#I feel like I had conducted life long study | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ofjunemoment · 7 months

Text

getting even | lee haechan (P2)

synopsis — Haechan promises you that he wasn't the one behind the prank. But he also tells you that he likes you. You're torn between which one you want to believe more.

pairing - haechan x fem!reader

genre - university!au, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, very slice of life, eventual smut (MDNI)

Wc - 19k

content - camping, clubbing (again), smut (MDNI)

warnings: reader is drunk in one scene

a/n - YAYYYYYY here's the final part of getting even!! thank you for waiting patiently and I'm sorry it took this long,, thank you guys so much for your reactions and feedback on the first part, it definitely helped me finish this part quicker than I wouldve! i had so much fun with this haechan, and i hope you guys have fun with him <33 smut tags will be under the cut (not proofread sorry)

this is the second part of the getting even series! make sure to read the first part before reading this ^^

smut tags - fingering, unprotected sex (dont do this <3), oral (m receiving), praises, dirty talk?? like barely...., gets romantic and sappy in the middle sorry, lmk if I missed anything <3

“Is that everything?” Yubin scribbles at her clipboard as Juyeon closes the trunk of the van shut, clapping his hands together to rid of any excess dust.

“Seems like it,” Sohee speaks out softly, but her sigh is unmistakable. “But Jihoon is late. Again,” Everyone looks around for any sign of Jihoon, but it seems like your whole radio club is assembled but him.

“Ah, no worries. I just got a text from him saying he’s on the way. Something about Yubin wanting extra drinks…” Juyeon pipes up. Said club manager flushed as she got called out, waving her hand and scoffing in denial. “I didn’t say that! I just said, you know, that he should bring things to make the trip more… livelier?” For this semester's story scoop, your club had decided to make a trip to the rural farming areas just a few hour's drive south. Juyeon, the modern history major, had said that there was a grasshopper surge that he had decided to study for in his first year of course, which led to everyone being interested in how the farmers reacted to such a phenomenon. And so you all banded together and rented two vans and borrowed Yubin’s car, now filled with equipment and luggages, to stay in the town for two nights and conduct primary research on the topic.

Everyone seems excited one way or another for such an event, viewing this trip as a much-needed break from studying and assignments. Well, everyone except for your beloved friend, Naeun.

“I already feel sticky and we haven’t even started the trip,” Your selective germaphobic friend murmurs as she eyes the camping equipment that is being shoved at the back of the van by Minseok and Soyeon.

You roll your eyes at her dramatics. “You wouldn’t be complaining like this if Jeno was in the mix,” You lightly shove your shoulder against hers, giggling when she glares at you.

“Jokes on you, I would be saying the same thing. Just with different context,” You grimace at her suggestive brows fluttering at you. Still, before you can let your impulsive thoughts take over and strangle her, you hear the crunch of tires against asphalt. You are met with a car pulling up at the waiting area where your club is waiting.

Jihoon steps out of the car and daps up Juyeon and Minseok, while bowing politely and apologising for being late towards Sohee and Yubin.

“If it makes you feel better I bought a lot of alcoh—” Yubin's sharp laugh cuts off the rest of his sentence as she smacks at his shoulder a few times, her cackles bordering like a threat.

“You’re so young and dumb, running your mouth. Oh, to be youthful…now get your shit out of the car.” She pinches his shoulder before gesturing towards the vehicle he’d pulled up in.

“Actually, I was gonna ask for a favour too…” The rest of the sentence goes unnoticed by you as your attention catches on the car that Jihoon has just gotten out of. It seems like he wasn’t the only person, and you hadn’t realised that until the car doors had opened and out stepped Jeno and Haechan.

“No fucking way,” Naeun pales next to you, and the feeling is mutual as your eyes widen on reflex. “We should really try being scared of good grades instead,”

Jeno steps out of the car holding a box filled with what looks like alcohol and snacks that go along, his sleeveless shirt highlighting his flexed biceps as he carries the box towards where Jihoon is gesturing. Haechan, too, steps out with a box in his grip, adorning a simple shirt and summer shorts, and you can’t pull your eye away from him. Jihoon has his friends distract Yubin and Sohee from his late arrival (it works on the former, not much on the latter) as he guides Haechan and Jeno to shove the boxes in the back of the van you’re taking.

“I even brought extra sleeping bags, they’re new so you don’t have to worry,” His smile stays on even when Yubin pinches at his cheek. “Look at you trying. Hey, we have two extra seats in the vans if you two want to join?” She ignores the sharp look she receives from Sohee as she looks at Jeno and Haechan, who give a glance at each other and then Jihoon, and back to Yubin.

“Thanks for the offer, but I have a game to practice for,” Jeno smiles, and you feel Naeun grip at your wrist. He casts a glance at you, which sends you into a shock before a smile takes over his features. Everyone’s now looking at Haechan, and there’s only one way he can react when he has this much attention on him.

“How could I reject such an offer,” He bats his lashes as Jihoon grapples him into a friendly headlock.

“I’m done,” You mutter, as everyone bustles around you to get their items in the car, Juyeon and Haechan are discussing how to ration their clothes for the latter to use, while Jihoon pulls out a fully inflatable flamingo from the trunk of his car, trying to somehow persuade Sohee on bringing it along.

“There isn’t even a pool there!”

“But there’s a lake, no?”

Your shoulders slump in defeat. “Naeun, I’m so done,” Naeun relaxes his grip on your wrist when Jeno waves goodbye to everyone once Jihoon takes all his belongings out of the car. She pats your shoulder encouragingly, prioritising herself now that Jeno isn’t around to send her into a loop.

“You’ll be fine, I mean, he’s probably gonna be preoccupied with Jihoon. You probably won’t be able to even interact with him.”

True to her word, everything was fine. You didn’t even have to share an awkward greeting with him in front of everyone to save face and show that you get along well. Your tasks were assigned briefly by Sohee, and everything fit like it was planned to in the trunk of the vans.

You’re sitting in the back seat of one of the vehicles when the door opens and in comes Haechan. You do a mental check and realise that the only seats left are the two available ones next to you; although one was occupied by Juyeon’s massive skincare bag. As you were about to shove the bag in the middle seat and have Haechan sit on the opposite side, the bag was swiftly taken away by the owner himself.

“Ah, we need to make some space here for you to sit.” His sweet smile comes sinister in your eyes, as you see Haechan looking at the place before sparing a glance at you, the first of the day if anyone was keeping count. Not that you were.

Seeing the caution in your eyes, he goes to settle himself on the opposite side, leaving the middle space empty for your comfort. As Haechan is trying to settle into the car seat, Jihoon takes a moment to glance inside before disappearing for a quick moment and returning with a pool toy, which he promptly hands to his friend.

“There’s no more space at the trunk,” He shoves it even more at Haechan’s side, making the boy tumble and fall into the middle seat instead, his hand coming in contact with yours. As you flinch, you just manage to realize what is happening before Jihoon closes the car door and heads to the passenger seat. Yubin starts the drive, and you find Naeun and Minseok in the middle row, with Naeun looking back at you with concern evident in her eyes.

You try to wave her off the best you can without Haechan realising, but it seems like he’s too preoccupied battling with the inflatable flamingo. “Why don’t you deflate it and inflate it when we get there?” He calls towards the front of the car at his friend.

Jihoon spins around from his seat and tries to look at Haechan through the gaps from the overshadowing pool toy. “This one’s weird, it doesn’t easily inflate again, so might as well just take it there while it’s fully filled. It’s not a tight fit for you two, is it?”

Haechan gives the toy one more push and it’s angled in the least invasive way, yet his left side is pressed against you, and you can’t help but focus on the contact that his knee makes against yours, as the warmth of his skin travels easier with the skirt you’re wearing. You try your best to not look at the guy next to you, reminding yourself that it's only a two-hour drive, and you can probably try to sleep through most of it.

“No, we’re okay,” You ease Jihoon’s worries, who smiles brightly at you before turning back around.

Tucking yourself against the car, you try to find an angle that's most comfortable for you to fall asleep in, but while you’re shifting around something blankets your legs. When you open your eyes, you see Haechan placing a jacket on your leg. Where did he even pull this out from?

Looking at him, his gaze follows up from his jacket placed on your leg to your face, giving you a light smile as he tries his best to give you space even in the tight fit. Without a word, he folds himself against the flamingo toy and closes his eyes, ready to sleep. You want to thank him for his gesture, but as you see his breathing steady, you instead decide to follow his lead and shut your eyes, careful with his jacket against your legs. Soon, your eyelids begin to drift down, and your breaths become slower and deeper until you eventually slip into a restful sleep.

After what feels like a few hours, you awaken to find the van has stopped moving, and the rest of the club members have already gathered outside. You take the jacket in your hands and stretch your weary legs out before stepping outside, feeling the cool summer breeze against your face. Naeun’s the first person to realise that you’ve stepped out, waving her hand at you and gesturing you to join their circle.

“Good morning sleeping beauty,” She teases when you catch up, bumping her shoulder against yours.

“Alright guys, there are four tents, three of them fitting two people and one fitting three. You can pair up and grab them and set up at this area.” Sohee ticks off things on the clipboard, not taking her eyes off of it as she informs your group. “Try to be done by one, we’ll take a drive down to the village area and have lunch before we take a look around and see if there’s anyone who’s willing to be interviewed.” People have started to gather their bags from around their feet, ready to set up the tents. “And be careful about the space, we don’t want to be too crowded because it’s already hot enough. I know the lake is just a few minutes walk away from here, but refrain fro—”

“Let’s start setting up, yeah?” Yubin claps her hands together, effectively cutting her partner off and letting everyone disperse.

As you find an area to set up your tent, you’re not even done with hammering in the corners of the tent into the ground before you hear your friend groan.

"I never imagined they'd make us actually set up our own tents on this trip," Naeun sighs.

"Oh, come on, it's not that hard," you retort. "Besides, it's all part of the experience, isn't it?"

"Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that," Naeun laughs.

"Hey, I'm serious! This is meant to be fun," you reply with a smile. As you near the end of your process, you take a moment to look around the camping area. In the middle of a faux circle your tents are making is a general campfire and dock, where most of the snacks and drinks are placed, ready for consumption at later times in the day. Looking at everyone setting up their respective tents, you catch a glimpse of Haechan and Jihoon working diligently. Haechan’s back faces you as he hammers in the corner of his tents to the ground, and you’re only taken away from such a view when Naeun clears her throat.

“I’m innocent,” You don’t even look at her as you say this. Rolling her eyes at your helpless behaviour, your friend turns to the two of them setting up, before feigning a voice of interest. “Oh! Did you guys set up next to us? We’re neighbours now,” Jihoon looks up and smiles cheekily, indulging in your friends' reactions as he starts to talk about how excited he is about the trip. Meanwhile, Haechan merely glances at her, before his eyes shift past her figure and land on you.

You shift in place at his gaze, meekly lifting a hand to wave hello, unable to think of anything else. A gleaming smile breaks out on his features as the corner of his lips tilts up, laughing at your awkward behaviour. You break eye contact, not wanting to spend another second subjecting yourself to being ridiculed like this. When you do, your eyes fall into the lent jacket folded and perched on top of your bag, a reminder that you’re yet to give it back.

When you and Naeun shove your bags into the tent and zip the entry close halfway, you hear a clap echo from behind you, where Yubin stands in the middle of the dock.

“Is everyone done? Come around so we can do a quick brief before we go into the village,” When you all circle around her and the other club leader, a quick rundown is given to you of what is to expect when you head down to the village. You will all go around the village as a group, asking the residents about their knowledge of the grasshopper surge and if they’re willing to participate in a form of interview

The drive to the village was less squished as all the items you’ve packed have been unloaded, and you are able to view the beautiful scenery you had missed while asleep on the way here. Soyeon reaches over and tries to point at the best scenery for you to view, while Minseok tries to distract you by claiming to see a cow every few seconds.

You arrive at the village entrance, your windows rolled down to take in the fresh air and appreciate the charming farming fields spread out before you. The trees swing with the light summer breeze, while the shine of the sun highlights the bright-coloured fruits hanging off of the different gardens of each house. The houses are all clustered together, no doubt creating an easy atmosphere for friendliness between neighbours.

As you exit the van, your eyes slowly wander around to take in the sights of the village. Juyeon spots a few kids running around and playing with large hoola hoops, exchanging a friendly smile and wave with them. Both Yubin and Jihoon seem excited to wander around, quickly taking the opportunity to explore the quaint village by walking into the streets.

It’s quiet as you pass by the houses, with the people no doubt staying inside to have a nice lunch while staving off the heat. “I think there’s a good Naengmyeon store just a few minutes walk.” Sohee looks at both her phone and the clipboard alternatively, before starting her journey without a glance behind her.

As you follow Sohee, you and Naeun walk side by side, taking in the fields and their vacancy. “It’s so serene,” she chimes.

You hum, “It must be so relaxing to live here, even the weather is good,” You stretch your arms out to get a better feel. “If I was living here I wouldn’t have a single complaint. I bet they all must be nice too,”

“If I lived here,” Jihoon chimes, “I would be one of those old people that walks around with a stick I just found on the ground,”

“I would live here with you,” Haechan adds with a smile. “Just so I can break your stick and laugh when you fall,”

Jihoon jokingly goes to wrap his arms around Haechan, who tries to defend himself by delivering jabs into his friend’s waist. Your group laughs at their antics before suddenly being made to take a sharp left.

The quietness that existed two seconds before the turn is now all gone, as you’re met with the bustle of what you assume is the village centre. Market stalls litter around as kids run through their gaps. People gather around shaded decks, fanning themselves with various objects as middle-aged women gossip around. Even the two restaurants are bustling, but when Sohee goes to the one she had previously found, they miraculously provide tables for all nine of you, splitting into groups of four and five.

As fate would have it, you’re seated with Haechan and Jihoon, with the latter too oblivious to the stiff body language you and Naeun now harbour. Haechan provides a tight smile, but his friend goes on about how he’s starving. He calls for the owner of the place and orders your food.

The woman looks to be around sixty years old, and it’s obvious that you’re all thinking the same thoughts; she would be a good candidate to interview. “Anything else,” She jabs when you all silently look at her.

Jihoon, ever the extrovert, sacrifices himself. “Ah, actually ma’am, I hope this doesn’t sound rude, but how old are you?” You can’t help but wince at his choice of sentence, now looking anywhere but at either one of their directions. Haechan purses his lips while Naeun coughs and goes to cover her face with her hand.

You feel more than hear her anger radiating off of the poor woman, as she shoves her hand into her apron pockets defensively. “My, talk about ‘not wanting to sound rude’,” She mocks. “Might as well ask what my income is, or better yet, the size of my br—”

“Please don’t misunderstand! I was just curious because I’m here to—”

“Just wait for your food and eat it diligently before I decide to kick you out,” Jihoon shrinks back in his seat, nodding his head solemnly. She tsks one more time before sauntering off, groaning and muttering under her breath as she goes.

“That couldn’t have gone any better,” Haechan pats his friend's shoulder, before tucking his chair further away from him, his foot bumping against you in the process. You share brief eye contact, about to share some awkward niceties before Jihoon goes to strangle him, something that occurs constantly it seems. You turn to Naeun, who looks back at you at the same time, with what you guess is the same bewilderment evident in your eyes. You burst out into laughter, leaning into one another as you take in what had happened

When you’ve all licked your bowls clean and had Jihoon semi-formally apologise for offending the lady, the group decided to saunter around the centre in order to find people to interview.

“Okay, not a hard task.” Yubin looks at the clipboard that Sohee holds in her grasp, turning back to look at all of you. “We just need to be friendly, and boom, interview opportunity. But in case that doesn’t work, let’s have Jihoon-” The boy in question groans, “And Soyeon go around and try to conduct a mini questionnaire. Just simple questions like how long they’ve lived here, what their occupation is, and then find a leeway to ask about the grasshoppers.” Yubin clasps her hands together, and when no one budges, she starts shooing you off. Jihoon and Soyeon, the two clear extroverts of the group walk away, while Minseok starts dragging Juyon in the direction of a doughnut shop he wanted to try. Yubin and Sohee have their own way of handling things, which leaves you with Haechan and Naeun.

Naeun decides to be the icebreaker this time around, as she turns to both Haechan and you. “Yay! We’re our own trio now,” She makes some jazz hands as she says, “Just like old times in the Beehive club,” Your smile turns sour at the mention of the club.

You cross your hands in front of you in thought. “How can we approach someone about this?” You questioned out loud, but Haechan smiled at you before patting a hand on his chest.

“I can charm anyone over the age of fourty-five, it’s a hidden talent of mine. Alongside being able to juggle five things at the same time—”

“—There’s no way you can juggle five things at the same time.”

“... Do you want my help or not?” You and Naeun shove two thumbs up each in motivation before the boy takes a deep breath and starts scanning the area. With the bustle of lunchtime, there are a lot of people going around, some now setting up their dessert market stalls.

Haechan shoots his chance by going up to a grandpa who walks by, wearing long sleeves and pants to stave off the burn of the sunlight. “Hi, sorry to bother but do you think you would be… interested…” The man kept walking as if nothing had happened, barely blinking when Haechan had come up to him. “Okay, that’s okay. Maybe he was hard of hearing?” As if on cue, the man waves as someone calls his name, going up to them and maintaining a conversation.

Now you have to find someone else. Simultaneously, all of your gazes fall on this one old lady pushing her cart, with a bit of a struggle if the minute movements of the cart are anything to go by.

Haechan makes his way through to her. “Aye, it must be hard for you to carry all of this alone. Let me help you miss,” He flashes his charming smile and you can’t help but find him endearing. In the summer heat, his cheeks look warmer than usual, as the shine of the sun reflects off his skin gleamingly. He looks cute, and you suddenly feel a sort of ache bloom in you.

The grandma squints for a while as she looks up at Haechan’s figure looming over her, and you would too if you were in her position; he’s practically beaming. But when she lifts her hand off of the handles of the carriage, it isn’t to give the boy reign but rather to deliver a hard-hitting smack at his shoulder.

You flinch and Naeun lets out a shocked shriek, as Haechan’s eyes widen, hand coming up to his bicep as he steps back.

“Damn city boy, you’re in my way!” She trudges off, and you all can’t help but look at her retreating back, the ring of her cart mocking your attempts.

It was difficult to try again after those failed attempts (you found it cute as Haechan would pout every now and then while he rubbed at his shoulder), but when Minseok and Juyeon had come back with three successful participants, you had all suddenly felt extremely competitive.

And so you tried again, and again, and once more. Finally, a lady who was selling tanghulu had asked about your reason for visiting this town, to which she had nodded earnestly when finding out you were here to know more about the grasshopper surge. She later agreed enthusiastically when you had asked with your sweetest voice if she doesn’t mind being interviewed about it, going as far as to invite you to her house.

“Ah, we don’t wanna intrude on your privacy,” You had started shaking your hands about, but the lady merely tched at your behaviour. “Nonsense, if anything, you can do me a favour by coming in and keeping me company,” She gestured at her meek stall, and you couldn’t help but smile sweetly and nod.

With all of the interviews and mini-questionnaires secured, your group popped back into the van and ventured back to your camping grounds. Your village centre trip had taken a few hours to finish, and it was no surprise that by the time you had gone back, it was dark, and you were hungry once more.

Soyeon giggled next to you when she heard your stomach grumble. “I can make a mean shin ramen if you’d like,” You were about to bashfully thank her for offering before Juyeon loudly spoke up.

“You’re hungry too right? See Yubin, we should start the fire and barbeque now!” A bit more whining occurs before the fire pit is finally lit. In the dark of the summer night, a light breeze still comes around now and then. You drape a blanket stolen from your tent over your and Naeun’s legs, sitting on the log as everyone tends to a different part of the camping experience.

Yubin and Juyeon get busy with making the food, while Jihoon crowns himself as the bartender of the night, but instead of mixing drinks he merely passes them around and encourages everyone to take a sip before the food gets ready. Sohee quietly sets up a corner of the circle for smores to be made without risking the marshmallows from catching on fire, and a bit to her left sits Haechan, who sips at his bottle of beer while looking at the fire.

It seems like even the warm tone of the fire compliments his skin a lot, and you can’t help but look in his direction constantly, your eyes not wanting to look away. Naeun drones about a cute bag she had seen in the market earlier in the day, but your eyes are stuck on his features, pouted lips glistening after each sip of his drink, his fingers fiddling with one another against the bottle and then tapping at his knee.

The sounds around you muffle as you focus on the contrasts of the dark summer night and the orange-yellow flame of the fire against the boy. You feel your stomach fluttering as you come to realise that the nervous feeling you harbour around him is a result of your blooming affection for him.

Suddenly, you feel a warm gaze on you, and you turn to see Haechan's eyes fixed on you, with a gentle, understanding gaze. Your pulse quickens each moment you lock eyes, and it’s hard to bring yourself out of this reverie.

In the middle of enjoying this blissful moment with him, your heart fluttering and your eyes locked onto his, you startle as you feel someone tap on your shoulder.

You turn around to see Naeun looking at you, a slight frown on her face.

"What's wrong?" You ask her. Naeun shakes her head slightly and looks back in Haechan's direction.

"Have you been noticing Haechan's strange behaviour recently?" She whispers to you. Your brows furrow, but you can’t bring yourself to look at the boy anymore. “What makes you say that?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know, it kinda feels like he’s silently brewing something.” She taps her fingers against her chin as she thinks. “Or maybe I’m just making things up, I need a drink” She shrugs and quickly goes to stand up, heading towards Jihoon’s direction, who beams when your friend asks for a stronger drink.

The night continues with the food getting annihilated less than five minutes of it being cooked, and everyone mixing their spirits just to experience drunken fun quickly. A few impromptu singing sessions occur, and a very terrible round of truth or dare as Minseok decides to make everything hard by saying such as “I dare you to down two shots or give me fifty-thousand won”. No one was pleased with his low blow.

You know it’s time for you to head off to bed when your eyelids start drooping even when everyone is singing at the top of their lungs. You pat Naeun’s knee as you stand up, with her barely noticing as she tries to match her adlibs to the song.

“I’m gonna head off to bed now,” As she nods back at you, you tuck the blanket back on her knees before shuffling away and towards your tent. Retrieving some things from your bag inside your tent, you hear some shuffling to your left as you head back out. Haechan stands at his tent situated next to yours seemingly calling it a night too as his hands carry his toothbrush and toothpaste.

You’re not sure where you got the confidence to speak first, but Haechan’s soft gaze illuminated by the moonlight eases you. “You’re heading to bed too?”

“Yeah,” He exhales. “I don’t think I can handle two more hours of a Bruno Mars medley. Even I have my limits.” The smile on his face grows as he looks at you, cheeks full of adoration.

As you stand there, a thought tugs at the back of your mind, a memory that you almost missed amidst the camaraderie and laughter earlier. With a sudden realisation, you remember that you still have Haechan's jacket that he lent you earlier. Feeling a little guilty and nervous, you quickly retrieve it from your bag, tugging at the sleeves of the jacket and straightening any creases.

"Actually, speaking of limits," you start, your voice a touch sheepish, "I kind of borrowed your jacket when it got cold. Sorry, I didn't know exactly when I should give it back."

His eyes widen in mock surprise, a playful grin curving on his lips. "You mean you stole my jacket?" he teases, an eyebrow raised.

You roll your eyes playfully. "Borrowed, Haechan. Borrowed."

He chuckles, his gaze dropping to the jacket you're holding out. "Well, I guess I can let you off the hook this time."

You let out a relieved laugh, a weight lifting off your shoulders. Haechan's fingers brush against yours as he takes the jacket from you, his touch lingering and warm against you. His eyes, usually full of mischief, now seem to hold a depth of emotion that you can't quite decipher. The playful smile he wore has softened into something more sincere.

"Thank you," he says, his voice gentle as he folds the jacket over his arm. "But you know, you could have kept it if you wanted to."

Your stomach dips at the implication as you let out a nervous chuckle, fingers fidgeting slightly as you meet his gaze. "I know, but you have to give back what you’ve borrowed,"

He tilts his head, his expression thoughtful. "Well, I'm glad you're honest, even if it's about jacket theft," he says, a hint of a teasing smile returning to his lips.

A comfortable silence settles between you, the tension from before now replaced by a sense of connection that feels even stronger. The distant sounds of the campfire and the rustling of leaves create a soothing backdrop, and when you look at the boy in front of you once more, you’re suddenly brought back to the moment you shared at the festival.

“I thought you were rejecting me before I could even muster the courage to ask you out.” Was he joking again when he said this? Making some elaborate sick and twisted prank to make you feel better about the bucket of water that wasn’t even his own doing?

Your curiosity gets the best of you, and when you go to clear your throat and voice your thoughts, Haechan's lips curve into a warm smile. "Well, it's getting late," he says softly, glancing toward his tent.

You’re momentarily taken aback, now feeling lost on what to say. He takes your silence as a bid, zipping open his tent flaps and toes off his shoes.

“Wait, Haechan,” Your voice surprises the two of you still, as Haechan looks over his shoulder and back at you with a hum, his eyes scanning your features.

You shuffle in place, before bringing your hand up and waving at him timidly. “Sleep well,”

This time, his reaction is different. He purses his lips, as if restraining a more exuberant smile, his eyes glinting with something unspoken. His nod is gentle, and he avoids meeting your gaze directly. "Goodnight, Y/n,"

The following day, after you’ve all washed up and had something to eat, you gather around the cleared dock in a circle once more.

“Okay, so it seems like we have six willing participants. We’ve decided to split the teams as such,” With the crew only having access to three cameras, and today being the last day you all can visit the village, there will be three pairs conducting video-form interviews on three of the participants, while the rest do a one-on-one interview without any form of digital recording.

“These are the three pairs: Soyeon and Juyeon, you two will interview Mr Choi. Jihoon and Naeun, you’re on the Sim couple, and Haechan and Y/n can go to Mrs Kim,” You try your best to not seem as surprised as you really feel when you look at your partner, who beams back at you playfully.

Naeun raises her hand. “If my partner can’t shut his mouth and let the interviewees speak, do I have permission to smack across his head with the clipboard?”

“By all means,” Sohee replies without hesitation, while Jihoon raises his hand to his head protectively, looking warily at the clipboard that is being passed around to the groups.

You all depart at ten in the morning, hopping into the van and leaving your camping sanctuary. Yubin was kind enough to drive each of you to the houses of the interviewees, reminding all of you to meet at the village centre at three p.m. latest for dinner and then a drive back to the camp.

Looking at the scribble of the address that the lady gave you yesterday (you’re still shocked that she entrusted you with such information) you look at the gate in front of you which sports the same exact numbers. With one simple scan around, you find that there’s only a handle attached to the door to indicate your arrival.

Haechan steps forward and knocks twice, before you hear a slide of a door and a few grunts. “Give me a few seconds, I’m not as agile as I was a few years ago,” Opening the gate, you feel like you’ve been washed anew, as Mrs Kim smiles widely at you two. “Come on it, I prepared some fruits for you two to eat,”

“Oh, Mrs Kim you didn’t have to,”

“Nonsense,” She tchs. “It’s important for you young people to stay healthy.” As you enter, you see the beautiful exterior of her house and a mini deck that adorns the fruits she had mentioned.

Haechan adjusts the shoulder of the bag filled with equipment, his arm grazing yours briefly. “You have a very lovely estate, Mrs Kim,” He compliments, and his eyes squeeze shut when the woman reaches forward and pinches at his cheek. You can’t help yourself from laughing, as he contains his grunts.

“You flatter me too much young man,” She pats at his cheek once more, and you have to stop yourself from cooing when you see the red tone of his skin before he covers his cheek with his hand, rubbing it as a form of soothing remedy. “I have a few more things to bring. Did you guys have breakfast? Actually, doesn’t matter, even if you did you should eat more. It’s important to stock up on energy early in the morning.”

“Mrs Kim you don’t have t—”

“You guys can set up,” She shuffles back to her house, sliding the door open and shut behind her, gone before you could utter another word. Both of you look at the deck, which has a big bowl of fruits and three cushions for you to sit on.

Haechan is still rubbing at his cheek when he speaks, “I guess we can set up now, you wanna sit at the deck and I’ll adjust the camera?” The two of you work in harmony, with you adjusting the seats in order to achieve the best angle for the camera, while Haehcan looks at the viewfinder and asks you to shift when needed.

When you’re setting up the microphone and your clipboard with the provided questions, Mrs Kim comes back with two lines of kimbap lined on a plate and three sets of cutlery. Haechan lets out a sharp gasp in gratitude while your jaw slackens.

“Thank you, Mrs Kim,” You hum as you look at her, adoration no doubt filled in your irises. She waves shyly at you, before settling down at the cushion you had positioned for her. “Okay, there are a few questions that I have for you here, and it shouldn’t take more than fourty minutes if I don’t have any follow-ups.” You start explaining to her, and you look over at Haechan to check and see if your volume for the microphone is good or not. He gives you a thumbs up and a nod, which prompts you to continue with your debrief.

“We can take breaks as much as you like, and if there isn’t anything you’re comfortable with answering please tell us. We’re not trying to make you feel bad with this interview, we just want more people to know about this because there isn’t much recorded at the moment,” You list off, not wanting to miss a detail. Situated behind the camera, you miss the way Haechan smiles fondly at your focused expression, but Mrs Kim doesn’t as she lets her gaze flit between the two of you.

“Whenever you’re ready,” You smile at her, and she smiles back before giving you a confirmation.

“Please introduce yourself!” As you ask her question after question, you munch on a few fruits to stave off the heat in the outdoor summer weather. You fill up your cups using the water jug Mrs Kim had brought and subtly shove it to the corner of the deck where it is closest to Haechan, who would try his best to retrieve it with as little disturbance as possible, After thirty minutes, you had only gone through three questions, stuck with asking her follow up questions about her farming and harvesting upbringing with how invested you were. You pause the interview recording as Haechan mutters something about needing the bathroom, and you finally get to dig into the food that Mrs. Kim has prepared for you.

You’re munching on the food when Mrs. Kim asks you a question. “Did you two decide to come here together?”

You cover your mouth with your hand as you speak, “Oh, we’re part of a group at university and our project was to research this topic,” You pour another cup of water for her when you see her reach for the jug. “Which thank you for accepting our offer, it was hard getting someone …”

She laughs as she waves her hand at you. “The old people in this village are all grumpy because of the heat, don’t take it to heart sweetie,” Haechan struts back outside once more, and tampers with the camera to check the records. He brings it to you and asks about the angle which makes you two fall into a convo about the angles. You pick up a piece of kimbap and offer it to the boy, noticing he hasn’t had anything to eat as of yet.

You miss the fond look Mrs Kim holds, as Haechan shakes his head slightly with his mouth open, before engulfing the food and chewing, mumbling more about the camera settings.

“Mrs Kim, are you alright with changing the angle of the camera so it can focus on you?”

“You two are such a cute couple,” You almost get whiplash from how fast you turn your head to look at her, your utensils almost dropping the piece of strawberry you had picked up.

“Oh,” Haechan starts, and you’re not sure if the rouge colour of his cheeks is due to the sun or something else. “We’re—”

“And you’re such a gentleman too,” She gestures at Haechan before picking up an uncut fruit and peeling it. “I have five children, and a dozen of grandchildren. One of the younger ones is around the same age as you, so you remind me a lot of him.” She reminisces, and you can’t bring yourself to correct her statement when she gives you another piece of anecdote. “Although it’s been some time since I’ve seen them, I hope the next time I do they’ve grown as handsome and as kind as you are,”

Haechan grows flustered as he occupies himself with a bite of a fruit, before developing a sudden tenderness. He saunters up to his side and holds his arms wide for a hug, which the woman grows mockingly agitated with, before accepting it. He whines cutely, “Mrs Kim, you can’t go all soft on me with no warning,” He rubs at her shoulder gently. “If you’d like, I’m more than happy to come back again to visit you, in exchange for your world-class food,” He receives a soft smack on the shoulder before bursting into laughter, and you can’t help but feel a sense of adoration at his words.

“You’re only gonna be a nuisance at my side,” She grunts when Haechan goes back next to you, plopping himself down to indulge more in the food. “I’ll let you visit me only if you bring your lovely girlfriend too,”

You start coughing on the grape you were munching on, as Haechan tuts at you and gives you a glass of water. Gulping it down, you stop yourself from having another fit when Haechan says, “I’ll bring my lovely, precious girlfriend with me too. Promise,”

Your interview with Mrs Kim was done three hours after your arrival, as you left with a full stomach and a massive hug from the sweet woman.

“Have a safe trip back,” She waves, and you and Haechan navigate your way through the neighbourhood and towards the village centre.

Haechan gives a wistful sigh. “What a sweet lady, I thought every person over the age of sixty wanted to run us over in this town,”

“I think they just wanted to run you over.” You comment and are met with a light shove to your shoulder with his, a playful grin dancing on his lips. "Me? Come on, I'm nothing but a bundle of charm and charisma," he retorts while he stretches his arms out.

"Sure, if you say so," you reply with a smile, feeling the warm sensation before settling low in your stomach again.

As you both navigate through the village centre, the quaint streets bathed in the warm hues of the sun, Haechan's tone becomes a touch more serious. "You know, spending time with Mrs Kim was really nice," he admits, his expression softening.

You nod in agreement. "Absolutely. She's such a sweetheart. The way she talks about the village and its history, you can tell how much she loves it."

"True," Haechan agrees, his gaze distant for a moment before focusing back on you. "It's heartwarming to see how deeply connected she is to this place."

As you stroll along the cobbled path, a comfortable silence settles between you. The serene atmosphere of the village combined with Haechan's presence makes it feel like you're in a different world altogether, a world where worries and uncertainties can be set aside, even if only temporarily.

Eventually, the village begins to fade into the background as you approach your destination. With the fading light, the sounds of the evening grow softer, and you find yourselves in a quiet corner by the riverbank.

Haechan glances at you, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "You know," he begins, his tone softer now, "I’m glad you were my partner for today."

You meet his gaze, a warm smile forming on your lips as you feel heat gather at your cheeks. "Yeah, it was fun." You cut yourself off short, scared that if you keep talking you’ll say more than you’d want to.

He grins, a hint of his mischievousness returning. "And who knows, maybe next time Mrs Kim will have some more matchmaking plans for us," he says, his eyebrows wiggling playfully. You laugh, shaking your head at his antics, but feel a nervous flip in your stomach.

Before you can overthink and pick his words apart, you hear a honk from behind as a car drives up to the both of you. Yubin rolls down the window, gleaming at you from behind the wheel. “Great! You guys are done too, we were about to come pick you up. You guys had something to eat already?” You both nod your heads, now uncertain of Yubin’s enthusiasm.

“Perfect, because we aren’t heading to the centre for lunch anymore.” She tilts her head back to the van, urging you to get in. “We’re heading to the waterfall!”

It turns out that the man Yubin had been interviewing alone had mentioned a picturesque waterfall just a short drive from the town. The location came complete with a restaurant situated slightly downstream, but what had truly captured his nostalgic sentiment was his recollection of summers spent there during his youth. While she tells you all this, you don’t notice the passage of time. It's only when the car slows to a stop and Jihoon emerges from the trunk, his inflatable flamingo in tow and already sporting swim trunks, that you realize how far you've journeyed.

"Wait, are we actually going swimming?" Juyeon asks, his voice laced with surprise as Jihoon confidently strides towards the water, each step creating playful splashes. Sohee looks ahead at the water and Jihoon, expression blank once more. “We brought a few towels, some of them finished early so we drove back to the site and grabbed some things.” She shrugs her cardigan off, revealing her swimsuit from underneath. “You don’t have to swim if you don’t want to,” And she steps into the water, trailing behind Jihoon.

Naeun, who was one of the lucky ones to have finished early, is also wearing her swimsuit and is now trying to persuade you to join. “Just dip your feet in, you’re already wearing shorts! I brought some slippers for you too,” When she sees that you’re not budging, she huffs at your stubbornness before heading in. Even Miseok, who was fully clothed, went ahead and emerged himself into the water, squealing about the cold of the water.

You sigh in thought, looking down at your cladded feet, contemplating whether you should go in or not. You do feel the sweat built up from the whole day's work disappearing in the presence of the cold waterfall, but the body of water looks more and more tempting as droplets land at your feet, courtesy of Naeun and Soyeon declaring war against Minseok and drowning the guy with splashes of water, their laughter ringing through the air. Yubin clings to Sohee’s waist as she twirls her around in the water, and Haechan tries to coax Juyeong into making Jihoon sink by toppling him over the flamingo.

You sit by the edge of the water, your feet dangling in the cool stream, watching your friends enjoy themselves. Haechan, ever the observer, notices your conflicted expression. His eyes meet yours, and he saunters over with that signature mischievous grin that never fails to stir something in your chest.

“You coming in?” voice tinged with playful curiosity, he gets out to stand next to you, tousled hair dripping and his sun-kissed skin glistening. His shirt clings to his form, and it takes all of your willpower to look away from the dip in his waist.

“I don’t know, I’m still thinking…” The cold water looks exceptionally inviting, but you wouldn’t have a change of clothes, and you’re not sure if the white t-shirt you adorn would help in not exposing you.

“Hmm, I mean, you had a bucket of water dunked on you once, right?” He circles behind you as he says this. “So this time it shouldn’t be too bad,” Before you can turn to look at him and decipher what he means, you feel strong arms circle around your waist before you’re being trudged forward, a startled laugh escapes your lips as he carries you toward the water.

"H-Haechan, wait!" you protest, a mix of laughter and uncertainty in your tone.

He pays no heed to your objections, stepping in more and more into the cold and refreshing water. As the water reaches his waist, he takes another step forward, your laughter mingling with the splashes around you. The initial shock of the cold water is soon replaced by a rush of exhilaration as he swings you left and right quickly.

"See?" he grins at you when you turn to look at him, the playful spark in his eyes impossible to ignore. He takes another step forward, wanting to get the both of you close to the rest, but his foot gets caught momentarily as he leans forward more, making you squeal as you’re faced with your death for a few seconds.

Fortunately, you don’t fall in face first, as Haechan gathers himself just in time. His arms are gripped tighter around your waist, as he tries to fully regain his balance by grounding himself into you. You feel his chest against your back, and if it weren’t for the cool stream of water whizzing past your body, you would’ve been burning up.

“You almost killed us both,” Haechan loosens his hold around you as you say this, gently turning you around to face him instead, your grip going back to his forearm. Nothing could have prepared you for the view you’re met with, a smile gleaming across Haechan’s face, carefree and unfiltered as he revels in the summer sun and the cool water from the waterfall and riverbank. He looks like the embodiment of summer, and you’re slowly finding yourself wanting to bask in his light.

His smile slowly fades as his eyes start looking across your face, taking in your features one by one, from the corners of your eyes to the shine of the sun against your cheeks, and lastly your lips. You feel your breath hitch, the only thing grounding you being the grip you hold on the Haechan’s forearms, while his hands hover over your waits, before gently getting a hold on them, his fingers squeezing deftly. You’re not quite sure if you’re intently focusing in on his face, or if he’s slowly leaning in, but before you can figure out the air that hangs between the two of you, a deafening screech sounds in front of you, and in that suspended moment, your instincts kick in. Your arms reflexively rise to cushion the impact, and Haechan's body collides with yours.

For the second time this afternoon, you close your eyes as you brace yourself for impact, the world briefly becomes a blur of sensations. The water is just deep enough to soften your fall, but you know the skidding of the pebbles under your feet would inflict some sort of pain. Neither of you gets to find your footing this time round, as you fall into the water, refreshing coolness sliding down on you before engulfing the two of you.

As the world comes back into focus, you find yourself near Haechan once again, his laughter bubbling through the water. His mischievous grin is evident even underwater, and it's easy to imagine the triumphant sparkle in his eyes.

"You really can't catch a break today, huh?" he teases, his words echoing through the water.

You can't help but let out a laugh. "You could say that." Haechan surfaces beside you, water cascading from his hair, his wet shirt clinging to his form once more. As you two recover, you look up and towards the direction of the commotion that happened to send Haechan and you toppling over. There you see Minseok, a look of uncertainty cast on his face before it falls to a cheeky grin, his face stretching almost uncomfortably.

"Guess I misjudged the distance," Minseok calls out, his tone light as he shrugs his shoulders. Your brows furrow, but you don’t say anything when Haechan playfully splashes water in Minseok's direction. "Nice aim! You almost gave us a heart attack and had us follow the stream,” He points towards the flow of the water starting from your feet, and looking down at your soaked-through shirt you realise that you’re more exposed than what you had planned.

Haechan’s gaze catches on you crossing your arms over your shoulders, a weak attempt of you trying to cover yourself. Quickly scanning the bags and mats huddled together just on the floor next to the waterfall, he gently offers his hand for you to take, swishing through the currents and stepping out, helping you do the same before he grabs the only available towel he could find, wrapping it around your shoulders.

“There,” He pats your sides, helping you to dry. Your heart warms at his gesture, smitten eyes looking at his while he looks anywhere but directly at you.

People start getting out slowly too, some grumbling about being hungry from not having a chance to eat before coming to swim. When everyone grabs a towel, you realise that Haechan is the only one left without one. Everyone’s too busy tending to themselves to notice, and you see a faint shiver coarse through his body, the cold of the water relentless even in the heat of the summer.

You shoulder off your towel, handing it to him without saying much. He looks at your extended hand and you know he’s about to refuse when he sports a sheepish and teasing smile, ready to refute your attempts by making some sort of joke out of it, or claiming you need it more.

Somehow, you know that he won’t give in until you also have a towel or something similar to help you, so you decide to do something else. You place one end of the towel around his right shoulder, and you see him open his mouth to voice his protest, but his voice dies in his throat when you stick yourself by his left shoulder, wrapping the other end of the towel around yourself too. He looks at you incredulously, and you’re sure now that teh heat on your cheeks can’t be blamed on the heat of the weather anymore.

You try to will away your flustered expression, now refusing to meet his eye. “You wouldn’t take the towel, so I had to make do,” You mutter, now feeling somewhat ridiculous for your attempt at wanting him to use the towel. Haechan, having never met with this side of yours, gets a bit giddy as he grins widely at you, reaching out from under the jacket to pinch at you. You smack away his hand, before muttering something about wanting to find Naeun, separating yourself from the towel and quickly stepping away.

Back at the campsite, everyone takes turns rinsing off and helping to prepare for tonight's round of food. Although most of the drinks that Jihoon had brought were dwindling to a finish, he pulls out an extra bottle of emergency vodka, preparing shots for everyone to have.

As Jihoon’s tactics of making everyone drink to get drunk don’t go through, he tries something that never fails. “Okay, we’re playing never have I ever, and for every one finger you put down you have to take a shot,” Yubin immediately bites, saying “Never have I ever been named ‘Sohee’,”

Sohee's reaction is swift and accompanied by an indignant glare. Without missing a beat, she reaches for a shot glass and downs the vodka, setting it down with a determined clink. Jihoon grins, clearly delighted by the engagement he's sparked. "Only Yubin can pull something like that and not get torn in half,"

But Sohee doesn’t back down easily. “Never have I ever cut my own bangs,” Yubin purses her lips from laughing, lowering one finger as she looks at her shot glass in shame before downing it. A few other people drink too, with Haechan laughing at Jihoon who takes a hard-hitting shot.

“Why would you cut your bangs?” Naeun questions Jihoon as he recovers from the taste of vodka. “Sometimes times are tough,”

Haechan scoffs. “He saw a video of a guy thirst trapping and the girl he liked at the time had liked it. So he thought a haircut would be a quick fix,” Jihoon scowls at being called out so easily. Before he could strike back with a question, Minseok suddenly speaks up.

"Never have I ever accidentally spilled a secret that wasn't mine to spill," Minseok announces, his eyes locking onto Haechan's with a knowing glint. The question lands like a playful challenge, drawing amused glances and ripples of laughter from the group. Haechan's expression shifts from surprise to a grin, lifting a shot glass and downing it seamlessly. Your eyes catch on the side of his face as he tilts his head back, throat bobbing lightly as he downs the drink, and amid all the ruckus and noise of the group, you can’t help but find his expression hot.

Not right now, you can’t start salivating in the middle of a friendly gathering and so you turn to look away. Your gaze instead catches on Minseok, and his once playful expression has suddenly faded into a displeased one, as he pushes his glasses back up his nose bridge. You grow confused at his sudden shift of mood, but before you can further contemplate anything, Naeun shrieks at a question that Soyeon had asked bringing you back to the group.

The game shifts into story time, as people talk about how they’ve broken bones to the times they were caught masturbating. You can’t help but grimace at Juyeon’s story of how the person he was with had kicked out his pet cat from the room only for her other cat to pop out of the closet, as she cooed at her pet not even a full minute after they finished.

Someone reaches for a bottle of water and finds that the ones on the deck are all empty. “I’ll get some more from the van,” You volunteer, standing up and dusting yourself off. Yubin’s temple is resting against Sohee’s shoulder as she slurs, “Take s’meone witchu... Bottles heavy..” You glance around only to be met with Naeun excitedly asking Juyeon to tell her more about his embarrassing moments so she can exchange with him, while the rest egg him on. Your attention shifts to Haechan, his eyes already fixed on yours. With a subtle tilt of your head away from the campfire, a surge of confidence courses through you as you invite him to join you.

The walk to the van is quiet, save for the crunch of your shoes and sandals against the floor, as you look at the sky and the trees, anywhere but at him now that he’s actually by your side.

Haechan's voice breaks the silence, soft. "Was it fun for you so far?"

You turn your gaze to him, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I’m glad to have gotten away like this before the exams start up again." Subconsciously, you start treading closer to him, your shoulder now brushing against his every other step you take. “But I don’t think I can go to another social gathering until next year,”

He chuckles, a sound that seems to meld seamlessly with the night's tranquillity. "Tell me about it. Minseok’s been on a mission this whole trip, hasn't he?"

You nod, the playful note in his voice helping to ease the tension that had briefly gripped the atmosphere. “Your title is gonna be revoked soon if you don’t watch out,”

You arrive at the van, and you feel the weight of the key in your pocket, but you can’t bring yourself to fish it out, as you now stand face-to-face with Haechan. Even with the sun’s shine bringing out the warmth and glow in him, you’re just as mesmerised during the night, the moonlight turning him blurry at the edges, and you can feel yourself softening even more.

You’re brought back to the festival when Haechan had pulled you away and continued to laugh at you for being mad at him for pulling a prank on you. You’re still not entirely sure if he isn’t to blame, but that’s the last thing on your mind as you recall his words. “I thought you were rejecting me before I could even muster the courage to ask you out.”

He’s right in front of you again, looking at you patiently, gaze slowly flitting over your features, from your eyes to your cheeks, at your hair and fleetingly at your lips when you go to speak.

"Hey, about what you said earlier…” you begin, your voice steady but tinged with a hint of uncertainty as your hands fidget with one another. “Back at the festival, about asking me out,"

His eyes meet yours, searching for something in your expression. He seems to hold his breath, waiting for your words to unfold.

"Was that just... you know, another one of your jokes?" you ask, your tone light yet inquisitive.

Haechan's eyebrows knit together for a moment, a hint of surprise in his eyes as if he didn't expect you to bring up the topic, not like this. He then lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "No, I wasn't joking," he says, his voice gentle but earnest.

His second confession hangs in the air between you, a mixture of emotions swirling beneath the surface. You feel your heart racing, your mind racing even faster. Your next words are caught in your throat, wondering if now is the time.

“I…” But Haechan’s anything if patient and kind, as he steps closer and gently clasps your hand in his, both of your gazes falling on your now linked hands before travelling up to your faces. “I really like you,” You breathe, and your gaze zeroes in on his plush lips. “And I really want to kiss you now,”

Your cheeks heat up at your sudden bluntness, but a tender smile graces Haechan’s features and he takes a step closer. Your hands remain linked, his touch warm and reassuring against your palm. His head tilts a bit, breath mingling with yours as his eyes fall to look at your lips, gaze growing hooded in the dark of the night.

His lips meet yours gently, the plush skin enveloping you, and all you can feel and hear is him. The summer breeze and the crickets chirping now fades away, as you feel his fingers clasped through yours and the brush of his nose against you. He separates slightly, pulling back as he slowly opens his eyes, but you’re barely done.

Panic overtakes his features when you let go of his hand, but then it's replaced with a look of surprise when you quickly but gently clasp his face in your hands, leaning in and kissing him once more. He can’t help the slight smile that urges to overtake his features, but he grounds himself by clasping your waist, pulling your body closer to his. He pecks your lips, again and again, his palms squeezing your waist deftly, as if he can’t get enough. Your arms link around his shoulders when he pushes himself closer to you, shifting from caring pecks to heated kisses, pushing you two closer together.

Finally, when the soft breeze doesn’t help fight the heat, you separate from each other, but your bodies are still intertwined. You rest your forehead against his collarbone and he smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist now.

“Fuck,” You mutter, “Why was that so good?” He chuckles at your words, kissing the side of your head that’s still buried in his chest.

“Yeah?” He mumbles into your hair, and it takes all of your willpower to not collapse right then and there at his hot tone. “Can’t wait to show you more then,” He pecks at your cheek lightly before stepping back and towards the van, and you can’t help but silently mourn the loss of his touch.

When you get back to the campfire and sit next to Nauen, she comments on how warm your body is.

“Of course my body is warm, it’s summer. Did you forget?” Naeun looks at you with one of her eyes squinted shut, the other barely open as she tries analysing you through her drunken state.

“You’re right, I did forget. I just thought Haechan kissing you would’ve made yo—“ You smack your hand on her mouth as your wide eyes scan across the deck, scared that other people have caught on to her words. Naeun and her damn mouth, and really accurate drunk guesses.

After looking around, you’re relieved to find that everyone’s too busy with their own activities. Your eyes fall on Haechan, who must’ve felt your gaze as he quickly glances towards you, sending a wink and an air kiss. You roll your eyes, looking away quickly so he misses the fondness that overtakes your features.

Naeun leans on your shoulder as you two look at the blank space that once had your shared tent.

“I’ll miss this place,” She sniffles, and you can’t help but scoff.

“You were complaining just twenty minutes ago about how gross this trip made you feel.”

“Maybe the cleanliness of camping is the friends we made along the way,” She loses her footing when you move away from her, making her lose her position from being perched on you. Going to the van where everyone’s huddled at, you help give some of the items to be fitted into the truck.

Rubin tucks a strand of hair that’s sticking out from Sohee’s hair as the latter reads off of the clipboard in her hand. “Okay, everyone has their bearings?” Jihoon shuffles in with his flamingo plushie. “Wait, let me deflate this quickly and shove it at the back,”

“No!” You exclaim, and everyone looks at you with your sudden outburst. Without the flamingo, you wouldn’t have an excuse for wanting to squeeze closer to Haechan as you sit next to each other. You quickly gather yourself, clearing your throat and trying to seem nonchalant. “Uh, I mean like, don’t deflate it now. It’ll be hard to inflate it again.” You look away as you gesture your hand around. “There’s space at the back of the van anyway.”

You catch Haechan’s gaze, who is now covering his mouth with his hand to not burst out with laughter. Jihoon looks at Yubin with confusion, before the team leader shrugs, gesturing for the flamingo to fit into the van. When everyone shuffles into the van, Jihoon hands you the flamingo, which you happily grasp and tug at your left side, as you sit in the middle. Haechan fits himself at your right side, and you try your best to avoid Naeun’s suspicious yet knowing glare.

When the van roars to life, so does conversation between everyone, as Jihoon plays music through the aux cord, providing some background music. Now that you’ve achieved your goal of having Haechan sit next to you, you don’t know what to do, settling into your seat with the inflatable flamingo cradled in your arms. His thigh pressed against yours as the two of you relaxed back into your seats, and you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on anything but the warmth seeping through the fabric of your clothes, making it hard to concentrate on anything else.

As you steal a glance at Haechan, you find him already looking at you, a playful glint in his eyes and a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. You can never win.

He seems to find amusement in your flustered state, a knowing look passing between you as if sharing a secret language. And just when you expect him to tease you, he instead offers you an airpod of his (which you’re thankful for, you don’t know what suffices as an excuse for oggling him the way you did).

"Here," he says, his voice a soft undertone amidst the conversations. You're momentarily taken aback by his gesture, your fingers brushing against his as you accept the earbud.

It’s when you’re in the middle of choosing which decade of music to listen to when Minseok turns around and is met with your bickering. Naeun joins in, a smile on her lips as she enjoys the banter between you and Haechan.

Then, Minseok's voice cuts through the chatter, posing a question that catches you off guard. “Did you forgive him after his prank?” It takes a moment for you to realize that it’s directed at you. You glance between Naeun and Haechan, uncertain of how to respond to his unexpected query.

Quick to step in, Naeun's voice rises above the background noise as she takes charge of the situation. “The water bucket? Haechan wasn't behind that one,” Minseok now looks at Naeun with a confused tilt.

"But he was, right? I remember he was on his way to class and turned back at the last minute."

It’s now your turn to be confused. “How did you know he was heading to class then?” You see a bit of colour drain from his face as you ask him, and before he can say anything, Juyeon and Soyeon call for his attention, giving him an escape from the conversation.

A glance is exchanged between you, Haechan, and Naeun, a silent agreement passing between you all. Naeun waves off the topic, assuring you with a casual gesture. "Don't worry about it for now. Let's get back to what we were doing." With that, she turns her attention back to the ongoing activities, allowing you to enjoy your privacy once more.

As you listen to the calming music he plays, you lay your head on his shoulder, finding solace in the rhythmic hum of the van's journey. His voice drifts into a lively monologue about his evolving music preferences over the years—tales of the artists he favoured in his younger days and those who currently capture his admiration. You can’t help but feel warm as he tells you personal anecdotes of listening to his parents’ karaoke sessions, and how his mum especially used to love singing.

Watching him speak animatedly, a wave of endearment washes over you. Pouting as he sometimes speaks and moving his hands when he wants to emphasise a point, The surge of fondness overwhelms you and you let your urges take over, nipping lightly at his shoulder, not knowing how else to assert the cute aggression you feel so suddenly.

“What—” Haechan claps his hand over the spot you playfully bit, his mock protest making you roll your eyes at his dramatics. “That hurt!”

“It wasn’t even that hard! My teeth barely caught on.” You cross your arms. He suddenly wraps one arm around your shoulder, hand bumping against the barely alive flamingo as he pushes you closer to him. “Don’t go soft now. I didn’t say I didn’t like it. But just be careful now,” He leans into your ear, lips grazing your skin as he whispers. “I like biting too. Sometimes hard enough to leave a mark,”

You glare when he parts from you. “Is that a threat?”

He tilts his head in thought. “A threat for a good time? Maybe,”

You would be lying if you said the trip didn’t change anything. Naeun has been relentless, asking you every time she sees you smiling if it’s because of Haechan.

“You never smile for any other reason,” She barely misses the pillow that’s flung in her direction.

But as you return back, you’re suddenly met with your responsibilities you had momentarily forgotten about, as deadlines creep up. You’re only either at your classes, the library, at work or at home. So you don’t get to see Haechan, but you do text, which gives Naeun reasons to tease you. It hurts you to say that she’s right about you smiling because of him, so instead you deflect and threaten to spill the beans on her crush on Jeno. That stopped her for two weeks, and that’s all the time you needed to focus on your studies.

As everyone’s assignments and exams come to an end, a flurry of parties and gatherings are held, and people are ready to let loose before dispersing once the holidays start.

And so here you are, at the first party of the week, taking shots with Naeun as if they’re water. Usually, one of you would opt to be just a bit more coherent and sober than the other, just to make sure no one makes any mistakes they’ll regret later; but the exams were hard-hitting this semester, and what else do you talk about the day after these parties if not your fuck-ups?

It’s Sunwoo’s house that you’re raiding, and Naeun has somehow convinced the host to give them unlimited shots as compensation for when he made her talk about Haehcan’s prank.

“You really hold grudges don’t you?” He says as she pours you two another round, almost missing your cups with how much he’s also had himself. She giggles as he says this before her expression falls as he looks at him with a scowl. “Say that again and I’ll show you what a real grudge looks like,”

The night continues to be rowdy, as go around dancing to the music that’s being blasted and you stumbling yourselves into a game of truth or drink, where you would drink even with questions you were okay with answering. You’re now plastered to a couch, unable to move as your body feels unnaturally heavy.

“You know,” Naeun hiccups. “I love you, like, so much. You fucking bitch.” She slurs, tapping her hand against the couch in an attempt to find your hand. She gives up after three taps, hiccuping once more.

You nod against the back cushion of the couch. “I love you too, but,” You blink open your eyes, wanting to look at your best friend as you say this. “I just want you to know that you’re deserving of so much love.” You also try to move your hand to find hers, but you quickly realise that you can’t even find where your hand is.

So you keep going. “Soo much love. And the fact that you’re still single? Crime, jail immediately,” Naeun starts tearing up, because she gets emotional easily after three shots. “You’re so right, like, how long has it been since I’ve had my back blown?”

You shake your head, “Not even that, you deserve someone who’s into puppy play as much as you are. You know what?” Somehow finding some strength, you push yourself up and place your hands on her shoulders to steady yourself, wanting to gaze into her eyes as you say this. “You deserve Jeno and you should confess to him; he would be a psychotic maniac to not want to date someone as hot and as pretty as you are.” You miss catching the tears falling from her face, but you don’t need to do much, as her expression contorts from sadness to realisation.

“You’r—” She hiccups briefly. “So right. You’re so right. You know what? I’m gonna go and confess now,” Naeun’s willpower comes back in full force, as she suddenly stands up, posture straight like never before. You’re flung off of her as she does this, collapsing onto the couch, not yet having found the same energy she has mustered.

You’re not sure if your cry of good luck reached your friend’s ears from where you’re squished against the couch, but you can’t bring yourself to care as grogginess starts to take over, your eyes barely staying open even in the rowdiness of the party.

You feel yourself fall asleep just a bit, but are brought back to the lights and music of the party when you feel a gentle tap against your forearm. Opening your eyes, you’re met with Haechan’s crouched form as he smiles fondly at you, eyes scanning your face.

“You okay?” He asks, and you give him your best smile and a thumbs up.

“Never... Never better.” You reach out your hand, wanting to have some sort of contact with the boy in front of you. “Actually, I’m way better now that Haechan is here,”

Haechan’s smile widens into a grin, as he sees you flailing your hand around his general direction. “Haechan is happy that he’s here. Come one, let’s get you to sit up.” He clasps your hand in his, before gently lifting you from your horizontal position. You lean towards him, wanting to bask in his presence more, but he hums at you, urging you to sit back. Your face makes contact with the back cushion of the couch once more, and you can’t help the pout that sports your face. With your ears no longer buffered, the loud noise from the party rushes back to you at full force.

“It’s so loud here,” You murmur, squeezing Haechan's hand, to which he responds with a gentle squeeze of his own “So loud, ‘s annoying. Everyone’s annoying, but you, and Naeun is wetting her dick right now,” You don’t even care if your words are coherent or not, and judging by Haechan’s warm gaze, it doesn’t seem like he cares either.

He cups one side of your face, covering your ear from the ruckus of the party while having you look at him. “You wanna go home, baby?”

You struggle just a bit to find his gaze, but smile at him anyway, pressing a gentle kiss against the palm of his hand that’s cupping your face. “Baby...yeah, wanna go home.” He pulls his hand back at your agreement, pecking his lips at the same spot you kissed him, before helping you to your feet. "Alright then, let's get you out of here."

[SATURDAY; 2:46 AM]

haechan <3: hope youre okay

haechan <3: drink lots of water when you wake up

[SATURDAY; 11:03 AM]

you: i wanna hibernate my life away

haechan <3: aw dont do that

haechan <3: maybe try a panadol first?

you: i will now

you: thank you for last night 🤍my prince charming

haechan <3: yours?

you: ..

you: anyways.

you: how can i repay u :(

haechan <3: dont gotta repay me for anything

you: let me have this one

haechan <3: if you insisttttt

haechan <3: come over to mine tmr

you: how would i be repaying u that way??

haechan <3: i get to see your pretty face

you: 😐

haechan <3: ik you’re kicking ur feet rn

you: stop stalking me omg

You shuffle on your feet as you wait for Haechan to come to the door, feeling a bit stiff as you stand in the hallway of the apartment he lives in. When you had used the excuse of not wanting to annoy his roommates by coming over, he had attempted to reassure you that you won’t need to worry, because they won’t be here.

The keyword is attempted. You feel far from reassured that it’ll just be the two of you for the rest of the day, afraid that the freedom of being home alone with him would lead to your mind jumping to places you’re not sure about.

As you fidget in the hallway, your mind races with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You've spent time with Haechan in various places, but this is the first time you'll be alone together, let alone in his apartment. The possibilities and implications of this newfound privacy make your heart race.

Finally, the door swings open, and Haechan stands there with a welcoming smile. He's dressed casually, the hem of his white t-shirt hanging just at the waist of his grey sweatpants. "Hey, come in." he greets, strolling aside to let you in. Stepping in, you can’t help but let your eyes wander around, curious about the space he lives in. You’re surprised to find it in a messy-clean state— there are no stains or food scattered around, but there are many things clustered upon one another, as if either Haechan or his two roommates, Renjun and Jeno, were too lazy to put them away or thought they might need it in the near future.

He sees you scanning his living space and starts scratching at his neck in embarrassment. “Ah, I thought we could just hang out in my room, that’s why I didn’t make an effort to clean here..” He points back towards his room, and you feel shame bubble in you when your mind wanders. Maybe he just didn’t want to mess with his friends’ belongings scattered in the living room. Or maybe he wanted you in his room and on his bed.

Before you can dwell too much on those thoughts, you offer a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, it's totally fine," you say, doing your best to sound nonchalant despite the butterflies in your stomach. "Your room sounds great."

He smiles at you warmly, before gently reaching forward and holding your hand in his, pulling you towards his kitchen. He pops open a cupboard, and in you see an abundance of snacks. “Wanted you to pick anything you like,” He chuckles when he sees your amazed appearance. “We spend, like, seventy percent of our monthly grocery funds on these things,” He grabs a few snacks to his liking, urging you to pick your faves too. Afterwards, you shuffle behind him towards his room, which you can’t help but study again. A single candle emits a soft, warm glow on his desk, and a few pillows, seemingly borrowed from the couch, are arranged neatly on his bed. You can’t help but feel warm at the prospect that he had gone out of his way to clean his room like this for you.

Heading towards his bed, you place the snacks down at the bedside table, curiously glancing around at Haechan as he roams around, switching on the TV that’s mounted opposite his bed, sitting at the edge of his bed where his laptop sits, trying to connect his streaming service. “Is there anything you want to watch?”

You hum in thought, “I’m fine with anything.” You settle at the edge of his bed, feeling a bit unsure of where to sit. Once Haechan puts a movie on, he smiles at your awkward demeanour, fiddling with your fingers as you look at his bedsheets. He goes up to the headboard of his bed and pats the space next to him, signalling for you to join him. Smiling at his initiative, you take a seat next to him, getting more comfortable against the pillows when he wraps his arm behind your back, sinking back into the pillows.

You truly did try your best; you looked at the subtitles and read them along with the voices of the actors on the screen, and tried to encapture the scenes and backgrounds, but you couldn’t, for the life of you, fully focus on the movie. Not with the warm contact that is spread at your back, your shoulders pressed against Haechan. It also doesn’t help that your eyes travel to the ripple of the fabric of his sweatpants when he readjusts himself to a more comfortable position, or that you envision his soft grunts of moving around as something else whispered deeper into your ear.

It doesn’t seem like you’re good at keeping your feelings at bay, though. Haechan playfully squeezes your side after noticing you lost in thought, your gaze lingering on the tantalizing glimpse of skin between his shirt and waistband. “Is the movie too boring?” Your eyes snap up to his face, now feeling a mix of shame and guilt for letting your mind travel elsewhere.

“No! It’s just…” You trail off as you try racking your brain for an excuse. “Sorry, was jus’ thinking.” You feel another squeeze at your side, and if you were standing at this very moment your knees would’ve given out on you. You find it unfair that he’s able to do all this and drive you up the wall so easily.

He hums at your words before his gaze goes back to the movie playing. You almost scoff at his indifference, but also go back to looking at the TV. Two can play that game.

But you fall short once more when you feel him squeeze your waist once more, this time with his finger sleeping under your shirt, his pinky in contact with your skin. You can feel your heart racing and your palms getting sweaty. You try to tame yourself, to appear calm and composed, but deep down you know you can't help it.

You let your hand drop casually on his thigh, turning yourself to lean more into his body, trying to gauge his reaction. But he remains unfazed, expression unchanged as he merely adjusts himself slightly to accommodate for your new position. You decide to take it a step further, subtly squeezing your body against his, making sure to somehow slot your boobs against him, wanting him to feel more of you.

This guy's got a thick skin, you think, his demeanour as unyielding as ever. He doesn't show that your touch gets to him as he looks at you shifting closer to him. But if you look closely, there's a little twinkle in his eyes, a quick hint that suggests you're getting to him.

"Can I hug you?" he asks, his voice a mix of curiosity and anticipation. He chuckles, clearly amused by your eagerness as you nod your head, and wraps both of his arms around your waist. You take this opportunity to finally feel more of him, and give him something to be distracted with. You straddle his thigh, accepting his embrace as you slot your head at his collarbone.

His hands stiffen at your back, no doubt from feeling the heat of your body against his so suddenly, but he doesn’t let anything else on, as he starts to stroke your lower back, now cooing at you. “What’s got your pretty head all occupied, hmm?”

You hate how easily he’s able to pin this on you, his hands against you and his words whispered in your ear making you feel hot all over. Another soft squeeze of his fingers at your side reminds you of his question, and you feel shame climb up your spine before you’ve even uttered your answer.

“You,” pulling back from him, you look directly at him when you say this, voice almost breathless. You feel his thigh against your core covered by your shorts, and you hope the light press of your heat against him goes unnoticed. “My heads full of you, has been. Thought about you, about this,” The drive of your hips against his leg is now done with purpose, as you feel him stiffen at your boldness, almost making you whimper when you rut down. “Can’t stop thinking about you,”

He lets out a soft sigh when you ground your hips against him again, brows furrowed as he looks at your desperate state. You see a blush spread across his cheeks and creep up his neck, while he tilts his head back slightly, breathing in deeply as if to find composure within himself. He’s both flustered at your sudden ramblings about him, all while feeling a swell in his chest that he’s the cause of your current desperate state. His hands now find claim at your waist, neither pushing you down on him stronger nor pulling you away, simply gripping you as if in need of something to ground him. His eyes are wispy when they look up at you, mouth parted open as he takes a shuddering breath in. “What did you think about?”

What didn’t you think about? His touch on you drives you further, urging you to feel more. You shift your knees to meet at his hips, as you settle yourself down at his groin. “Thought about kissing you,” Your hands splay themselves at his chest, your pupils no doubt dilated the way your gaze settles on his plump lips. He bites on them, no doubt teasing you for something so close yet so far from where you want it; on your lips, both the top and bottom ones.

When you lean in to embrace his lips with yours, his head swivels around as his lips land on your cheek, gaze casts down as his fingers hover over your stomach, before descending down to your clothed core, your loose shorts giving him easy access. His breath fans hot against your face when he swipes his fingers ever so lightly against you, nail catching on your clit through the fabric of your panties. A soft, pathetic sound leaves your lips, as you feel your hole clench on nothing with the brief contact that he’s had with you.

You go to grind yourself down against his fingers, wanting to feel more of him everywhere, but his hands travel to your hips, grip strong as he stops you from pressing against him. He tuts at you, hooded eyes travelling up your body, catching on your chest, where you pant lightly, breasts going up and down. When he finally lets his eyes go past your boobs, his grip turns harsh as he presses you back when you try to ground yourself against him once more.

“My pretty girl,” His tone is sweet, but you can’t help but feel like he’s mocking you. “I asked you a question,” When he sees your faraway gaze, he chuckles against you before leaning in, letting his lips graze against your collarbone now exposed by him pulling your collar aside for access, nipping at your skin before soothing it with a swipe of his tongue. You scramble through your brain as you try to remember the question he asked, too occupied with his fingernails digging into you.

As if he can sense what's running through your mind, he refreshes your memory.

“What,” another playful bite lands, harder this time at the junction between your neck and shoulder. “Did you think about, baby?”

Gathering your thoughts, you now realise that he won’t be giving you what you need unless you tell him. You feel your stomach burn low as you recall the moments you’ve let your mind wander.

“Thought about your fingers,” You start, looking earnestly at him as if to convince him of your burning need. “Your fingers in me, fucking into me.” You pant when his hand drops the grip it had on your waist, his digits swiping at your core through your panties. When he presses the pads of his fingers against you, he curses lightly under his breath at how wet you already are. Using his other hand to tuck the seat of your underwear aside, his fingers meet your bare pussy, swiping up and down against your folds, spreading your slick around.

“Fuck,” You sigh when he slowly presses his middle finger in, going till his knuckle meets your skin before pulling back out, his eyes seeking your face, wanting to see the pleasure in your expression. You squeak in surprise when he pushes another finger straight after, before building a slow rhythm against you. “Keep going pretty,” He sighs, his gaze captivated by your face. His hand that’s tucked against your underwear goes to your folds, thumb pushing against your clit in encouragement.

“Also,” You gulp down a breath of air. “Also thought of going down on my knees for you,”

“Fuck,” Haechan’s head falls back as you say this, his fingers quickening in speed. “Yeah? What else?” You whimper at his new pace and at his onslaught of touches against your sensitive clit, body clenching up when he taps at your bud quickly.

“Ab-about…about you fucking me,” You squeeze your body closer to him. “Fucking me until I can’t think,” You don’t realise that you’re moving now, grinding up and down against his fingers that are fucking into you.

Haechan groans at your words and actions, eyes squeezing shut as you start to chase your own pleasure. “That’s it baby, fuck. Wanted me to fuck my pretty girl dumb?” He hums against your cheek, placing a sweet peck against your skin, a stark contrast between his words and his grip on you.

You try to gather your wits, but Haechan lets his other hand wander up your body, shoving your shirt and bra away in favour of freeing your boobs. You moan when he pinches your nipple, your body shuddering at the different stimulations.

“Didn’t know my baby was so dirty,” He chuckles at your reaction, scratching his nail against your nipple before rolling it between his fingers. “When did you get like this?”

“In the car,” Your confession slows his movements, but you’re too busy chasing your high to realise. “On the drive when you were next to me. Your scent was jus’.. Everywhere.” Your hands clasp on his shoulder for support, thighs aching as you grind your core against his hand. “Wanted you to take me right there,”

You just miss the sharp intake of breath he takes, eyes going unfocused at your desperate form trying to find some sort of release, getting off only with his two fingers in you.

“Fuck,” He moans breathily, eyebrows furrowing. “Shit— so fucking dirty, thinking of wanting to take me where anyone can hear, can look.” He keeps his fingers still for longer, wanting to see how far you’d go to chase your own high, slick sounds tightening the knot in his stomach.

His eyes look mesmerised as he watches your every move, even when you move yourself up and off of his fingers. You start shaking your head, clawing at his clothes. “Can’t,” You groan, “Can’t finish like this.. Need you, so bad.”

Haechan moans at your desperate hands before copying your movements, shoving your shorts and underwear away before letting you do the same. His cock bobs against his stomach once you pull it out of its confines, and you feel drool gather at your mouth at the sight, tip adorned in a pretty shade of red and glistening with precum, leaving a spot of wetness against his skin, exposed by you pushing his shirt up, wanting to see more of him.

Once all your clothes are off and discarded, you don’t hesitate to reach forward and kiss him, lips parting against each other as you press your bodies together. Your hand travels to his chest, nail catching on his nipple as you let your fingers descend down, the scratch on his sensitive skin making his body jolt, hips bucking forward as a whine falls from his lips.

Your hand clasps his dick in your hold, separating from the kiss to look down as you pump him a few times. He moans against your cheek as his eyes fall shut, not being able to look at you pumping him for long, scared he’ll finish right then and there.

“Pretty doll,” He pants. “Love —fuck, love having you against me,” At the pet name, you can’t help but keen, wanting to hear more of his praises. Planting one more kiss against his plush lips, you let your mouth travel down against his figure, only stopping when you’re right at his groin. You arch your back for better leverage, before guiding the tip to your awaiting mouth. You press your tongue against him, kitten licking around the head as you gather his precum, before pressing an open mouth kiss.

“Fuck,” He hisses when you let his tip go past your lips. “So good, such a good girl for me,” You keen at his words, humming around his cock before going further down, wanting to take more of him. When your tongue swipes at the underside of his head, you feel his thighs tense around you, hip stuttering a bit from wanting to fuck against the tight heat of your mouth. Haechan tilts his head down as he squeezes open his eyes, wanting to see you take him in.

You don’t get to test your limit on his dick before you feel a hand settle at your cheek, pulling you up and off of him. He leans down, meeting you halfway to kiss you, tasting a bit of himself when your tongues swipe against each other.

“Couldn’t,” he pants when you pull away from each other, hands gripping your waist as he manoeuvres you to lay flat against the bed. “Wanted to fuck you, couldn’t handle not being in you any longer.”

You smile at his desperation, letting yourself be handled into the position he wants you in. His cock shines with a mix of your spit and his precum, tip sensitive and red as he grips at his base, giving it a few pumps before tapping it against you. You whimper when his head meets your clit, finally feeling the pressure again where you want it the most. Haechan can feel his composure slowly slipping away, the control he’s had before withering as he sees you laid before him, chest heaving up and down and you wait for his next move. So pliant and so ready, all for him.

He says just as much, as he leans over you, placing a hand near your head while the other repeatedly taps his dick against your folds. “Look so perfect, so needy. All for me, right?”

“Yours,” You drape your hands over his shoulders, wanting to feel him all over you. “All yours,”

“Yeah?” His voice is soft as he says this, eyes lilting up from your pussy hugging his cock, as he slides over your folds, gathering your wetness onto himself. “All mine.”

His eyes are now caught between your bodies, mesmerised by the way his dick looks between your folds. Straightening his back, you see him get hypnotised by the slide of your bodies together, keening into you further when you moan and writhe against him as his swollen tip brushes over your clit.

“Good for me,” he lets his hand slide down your body, gripping up and down your thigh before he grips himself at the base. Without another word, he slowly pushes himself into you, drowning in your moans as he bottoms out. You feel your walls clench tightly, sucking him in as you arch your body into him.

You curse when his pelvis stills at your hips, but he doesn’t move, staying fixed against you before dipping his head down, and landing a kiss on your lips. This time, his lips move with less fervour and more passion against you, suddenly slowing down the rush you feel buzzing in the air between you.

“Haechan, please,” You pant when he separates from you, hugging your legs around his waist and pushing your bodies together in lieu of wanting more. “Please move, want more,”

You don’t miss the shiver the throb of his cock inside you when you clench again, wanting to encourage him to do something. He presses a sweet kiss against your lips once more, and another against your cheek before pulling back; enough to be able to travel his gaze all over your face, taking in your dilated pupils and glistening lips.

His eyes locked onto yours with a sincerity that sent shivers down your spine. "I like you," Haechan confesses, breath warm against your skin. "I want us to be more than just this; than just this moment."

You’re taken aback by the sudden confession, yet you feel your body warm for reasons other than the heat that’s between your legs.

"I don't want this to end either." Your voice is barely above a whisper, but Haechan’s relieved smile lets you know that he’s heard you nevertheless. Diving down, he kisses you hard, teeth lightly clacking against one another as the both of you smile into each others’ mouths. He moves back a bit, before thrusting in and filling you once more, letting you feel him fully to the hilt over and over again. He moans low against your lips, and you feel your thighs shake around his waist, feeling overwhelmed by his touch and sounds.

“Can I,” He pants as he picks up the speed, his hand going to your leg before pulling it up to press flush against your chest. “Can I be yours?”

“Yes,” You whine. “Be mine, all mine.” You clench around his cock again, making him groan out against you. “Fuck, Haechan. I’m all yours. Please,” You aren’t sure what you’re begging for at this point, but it seems like Haechan is just a step ahead, knowing what you want before you can want it.

Pressing your legs against your chest, he goes to drive himself right flush against you, pressing you into a mating press. “S-shit—”

“Oh my god,” You sob as you feel him deep inside. “S’ deep,”

“You’re so pretty,” His eyes cast down between your linked bodies as he says this. “So pretty and hot, taking me so well.” He moves to clasp your leg over his shoulder, stretching you open for him, the pain in your body is nothing in comparison to the pleasure he delivers with each plough of his dick into you. “Can’t believe you wanted me to do this to you in front of everyone,”

“God—” Haechan’s words combined with the join of his finger against your clit send you into a fury, body clenching as your back arches off the bed. “Gonna—”

”Fuck you with my fingers where everyone can see,” His fingers tap incessantly against your bundle of nerves, hissing as you grip his bicep. “Would you let everyone hear you come? Show everyone who can make you feel this good,” He’s now mumbling to himself, hips snapping with a whimper falling from his lips when he feels your walls tighten against him. “Look at you, all fucked out and pretty. Who else makes you feel this good?”

“You,” you gasp, now panting, body wanting to writhe away from the overwhelming amount of feelings you’re filled with. “Only you can make me feel this good Haechan, fuck—”

“Are you close?” He hums, and a groan slips out from his lips at the nod of your head, watching the way you bounce on his cock, tits bouncing up and down from each drive of his hips. “You’ve been so good, let go, baby,” He leans in to plant a kiss on your lips and cheek, and with a few more targeted taps against your clit and a steady thrust of his hips, you feel hot white course through your body as you reach your peak. He peppers kisses down your face and into your neck, hips slowing down as he burrows his head in your neck, allowing you time to come down from your high.

As he goes to pull out and move away, you channel all your force to keep your legs locked behind his back, keeping him in place inside of you. “Inside,” Your voice is hoarse from feeling fucked out. “Come inside me, please Hyuckie,”

It seemed that your words were all he needed to push him over the edge, as his hips stutter once, twice, before you feel the twitch of his cock inside of you and spurts of cum fill your cunt. His whimper muffles against your neck, bodies running hot as sweat gathers on your skin.

“You good?” His voice is soft when he says this, hand coming to caress your hair and cheek, a stark contrast against teh harsh plough of his hips earlier. You smile dazedly as you lean against his palm, nodding and kissing his hand, which he pulls back gently and places a kiss at the exact spot your lips landed, before coming to kiss you directly.

“Bear with me,” He mumbles when he pushes himself up straight, and you wince when he slowly pulls himself out of you. You can feel the slow gush of his cum seeping outside of your hole, and Haechan’s eyes looked mesmerised once more as he looks at your cunt. Almost as if by reflex, his fingers reach out to your sensitive core, gathering the messy mix of your fluids before plunging his fingers back into you, plugging your pussy back full with his cum.

You whine loudly at the overstimulation, spent body twitching as you let Haechan do what he wants. “S-sorry,” He still seems dazed as he says this, eyes unable to stray away from your pulsing pussy. “Couldn’t help it…” He pulls out his fingers, spreading them and looking at the wet mixture of your sticky release.

“Haechan…” His eyes widen when you mumble his name, but soften when you reach out your hands weakly, gesturing him in for an embrace. “C’mere,”

Like a teddy bear, he cuddles into you without hesitation, body curving into you as he gently moves both of you around to lay comfortably. He kisses the crown of your head, cheek smushing against your forehead as he tries to get as close to you as possible. “Was that good?”

You hum. “Everything I wanted and more, you were so good to me.” Although you know he tried to hide it, you still feel the giddiness course through him, his skin now growing warm against you at your praise.

You can slowly feel the exhaustion catch up, the task of keeping your eyelids peeled open getting more difficult as time passes by.

“Thank you, Channie,” You mumble tiredly, feeling his skin rumble beneath you as he hums.

“Anything for my baby,” And before you know it, you slowly fall asleep.

It didn’t take long for people to realise the two of you are together, and it wasn’t even Naeun’s fault this time.

The one who makes it known to the whole campus that you’re together is Haechan, and you would be flattered that he can’t help but mention you every second sentence, always finding a way to say the phrase ‘my girlfriend’ in any given context, but you also can’t help but be embarrassed about the fact that he’s parading you around like this.

So, everyone knows you’re together. But they also know the water bucket prank, and how you both now know who it actually was.

Being the partner of the campus prankster and class clown means that everyone knows about the incident of you getting soaked right before your mandatory class. But when you had thought that it was Haechan to blame, the car ride back from the village had raised your suspicions of Minseok, when he had tried to convince you that it was, in fact, Haechan who pulled it; his source being.. gut feeling?

Jihoon had also confessed a week after the camping trip about how Minseok had drunkenly confessed to wanting to prank the prankster, setting up the water bucket thinking Haechan was to attend that class. Unfortunately, his plan fell through when you walked in instead.

You would’ve accepted Minseok’s apology for dunking the water on you, even if he didn’t intend to do that to you; but that’s the problem. He didn’t apologise and even tried to deny the fact that he had planned on doing that when you had brought it up to him. He had avoided both you and Haechan, which was such a petty thing to do. With the grudge you’ve been holding against Haechan when you thought he was the original pranker, you’re unable to tone it down with Minseok this time around. You don’t want to start with the fact that it was a simple, water bucket again.

So it goes without further saying that the party that’s being hosted by Sunwoo again is not one without purpose. Haechan had always had something up his sleeve when something like this happened (which, taking into account his reputation, this wouldn’t be his first rodeo). But unfortunately (but fortunate for one), you’re nowhere to be seen yet.

Minseok is bouncing his leg as he sits on the couch, hand gripping his cup which was been empty for more than twenty minutes, too nervous to move off of the couch and get himself more in case anything happens to him. When people come up to him, offering him a dance or a shot, he shakes his head no vehemently, not wanting to take the chance.

When Naeun drops down next to him on the couch, drink swiping around in his cup, his eyes widen in fright as his heart starts beating erratically. The girl giggles at his cautiousness, going to smack at his shoulder, which he effectively avoids just in case that was part of an act.

“It’s so funny—” Naeun’s giggle gets cut off by a hiccup. “Because, you’re so scared now. Did you plan on gluing yourself to the couch or is that what they pulled on you?” On her claim, Minseok’s bouncing leg immediately ceases any movement, as his body suddenly goes stiff, now looking at the girl beside him incredulously.

Naeun shrieks in the middle of her laughter at his expression, as Minseok suddenly shoots up from his sitting position, looking at the couch he was just perched on while his hands grasp at his ass, checking for any damage. Naeun almost falls to the floor with how hard she’s laughing now, heaving at Minseok’s expense.

“Not funny,” Minseok frowns at her toppled figure, now warily scanning around the place once more, feeling vulnerable now that he’s standing.

Naeun rubs at the corner of her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. “They’re not here tonight if that helps.” It took the wary man a few seconds to realise who she was talking about. “Haechan had a last-minute shift to cover or something early tomorrow morning, and so they both decided to skip out on this party.” She chuckles against her cup, taking a sip as she lets her eyes scan Minseok’s quivered stance. “So you can relax. For now. I'm gonna go find the love of my life.. I mean Jeno,”

The gleam in her eyes grows as she stands when Minseok scans around the party once more, before heading to the kitchen, deciding that he finally needs another drink.

Walking next to Haechan, you shush him when he suddenly starts talking loudly, animated expressions making you laugh while you shove at his shoulder with your own. You walk down the campus hallways, making your way towards the broadcast club room for today's meeting, with Haechan insisting on dropping you off.

When you’re shoving Haechan away from poking at you, nearing the door of the meeting room, your attention catches on to another person lingering in the stark empty hallway. When you look to you’re side, you’re met with Minseok, his expression shocked still as he, too, heads towards the room.

“Oh,” You’re a bit breathless from trying to avoid all of your boyfriend's onslaught attacks. “Hey Minseok,”

“W-what..” He starts, before clearing his throat, not wanting to come off as weak or scared. “What are you guys doing?”

Haechan’s arm is slung around your shoulder, squeezing you to his side. “Just dropping her off at the broadcast room.” Oh, of course. The same reason why he’s also situated in the hallway.

“Go on, Seok.” You motion towards the door, encouraging him to go ahead first. “I’ll say bye to Haechan and I’ll come i—”

“No!” Minseok exclaims with his hands stretched out, shaking them vehemently before dropping them down after realising how dramatic his actions were. “Uh, it’s okay. I’ll wait, and we can all go in together." He hopes his expression comes off as kind, but from the look on both of your faces, it seems to be more similar to a grimace than anything.

“Actually,” Haechan starts, wanting to get rid of the awkwardness swirling. “I’ll come in too. Jihoon needed my help with a sound system.” Even with Minseok closer to the door, it doesn’t seem like the boy is gonna make an effort to go in; not unless you two do, and prove to him that nothing is waiting for him on the other side.

“Well, okay..” You glance at your boyfriend with a questioning look, to which Haechan merely shrugs at you, his mouth turned downward. Stalking towards the door, you open it slowly stepping in while holding it open for the two men to get in. Minseok is still vigilant, looking at all corners of the open door for anything out of place, famously a bucket of something, maybe.

But when you head in and look back at him expectantly, he stalks in eventually, embarrassed at seeming so cautious about —seemingly— nothing in particular.

A chorus of greetings is shared, with you and Haechan waving hi to everyone and heading towards your friends, sitting down and starting conversation. Minseok doesn’t let up, getting a thorough look at the room he’s frequented a lot, scanning for any misplacements or outliers. He squats down to take a look below the table and cranes his neck to take a good look at the ceiling. He’s the last to realise the room going silent, as everyone looks at him expectantly, casting glances at each other at his odd behaviour.

It’s Sohee who breaks his quest. “Are you gonna take a seat or not?” At that, Minseok startles, before realising that everyone’s attention is caught on him. His cheeks warm up as he goes to his seat, tucking himself against the table before muttering a meek apology.

As the meeting commences, Minseok can’t help but look around the room restlessly, feeling on edge even when everyone sends him weird glances when he bounces his leg endlessly or takes a look to his left and right periodically.

But the meeting ends, and nothing out of the ordinary happens. Everyone gets out of their seats, and you head towards Haechan and Jihoon, who are huddled in a corner next to the stereo, fiddling around with it as they finish up their work. Minseok suddenly feels ashamed for suspecting the two of you; just because he was menacing enough to pull something doesn’t mean you would do the same. Packing his things from the table, he goes to stand up and heads towards you, repeating in his head how to apologise to you two. But even with a hand braced against the table to steady him, he couldn’t get to his feet.

“What—” He tries to stand up once more, both hands now braced against the chairs’ handles, but to no avail. The chair topples ever so slightly as he exerts all his force, and it's as if he’s glued to the chair.

“You—!” When you turn to look at him, you topple over with laughter, your hand finding Haechan’s shoulder to shake, wanting to bring his attention towards Minseok who’s struggling against the chair. Haechan grins, coming to a stand next to you and looking at the boy. Everyone else giggles along at the carried-out prank, slowly filling out the room but not before taking a quick picture and video.

“Oh no, are you okay Minseok?” Jihoon’s fake worry makes shame bubble in said person's stomach. “It seems like you’re stuck,”

Coming up to him, you place a pair of pants on the table near him, giving him a sweet smile. “I don’t think you’ll be able to come out in one piece, so here’s some emergency supply.” You give him a pat against his shoulder, before Haechan softly grabs your hand, bringing you towards the door before giving Minseok a wave goodbye.

thank you loads for reading till the end!! I'm sorry if there are any mistakes, its late rn and I'm not bothered to really go through it thoroughly once more. also, will I ever learn how to pace my fics after the two characters get together????? guess we wont ever know

if you liked this, please don't hesitate to let me know!

#nct dream fluff #haechan x reader #haechan fluff #haechan smut #nct haechan smut #haechan scenarios #nct smut #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct dream smut #7dreamnet

1K notes · View notes

likeastarstar · 1 year

Text

Needy- NAMJOON

"Hi baby."

Namjoon's deep voice rumbled in your ears, an almost pavlovian response triggered in your body.

You'd think by now, this far into your relationship, the crush you had on him would've worn off. Instead, it seems to have gotten even stronger- your mouth watered whenever he was in front of you, your entire body lit up with anticipation- hoping, wishing, begging for him to come closer to you.

Joon covered your body with his, wrapping you into a secure hug. A smile grew on your lips as you felt his long, strong arms wrap around you and his weight in your body. He put pressed on you as you pushed your face into his chest, breathing in his scent. His lips pressed to your cheek, then your jawline, then your neck- making his way down as he squeezed your body like a snake wrapping around its most precious prey-

"I missed you," He mumbled against your skin, breath sending goosebumps down your spine.

"It was only a couple hours-"

"And here I raced home for you," Joon tssked, "Thought about you the entire way, figured we could do date night here at home, yeah? Maybe watch a movie together, take a bath later? I'll wash your hair for you, remember how much you like that?"

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the memory of the last time your boyfriend washed your hair. A psychological study had to be conducted about the aphrodisiac properties to a head massage and lavender soap.

You exhaled slowly, Joon's eyes tracking yours with the upmost concentration. The heat of his gaze warmed your belly and you tilted your head at him, wondering what exactly it was that put him in this kind of a mood.

"What was Yoongi's show about again? Did it happen to involve something with alcohol maybe?" You hummed, feeling his hand dip under the hem of your shirt and massage your lower back.

His hand crept upwards, calloused fingers rubbing your soft skin with all the desperation in the world. The way he touched you was like a starved man, begging, aching for any crumb of you that he could get.

"What are you insinuating?" Namjoon said suspiciously, fingers fumbling with the clasp of your bra.

"That every time you drink you get needy," You teased, letting him wrap his other arm around your waist and hoist you into the air, carrying you with ease.

You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist and gripped his arms, face so close to his your lips grazed each others', teasing each other endlessly.

"Don't you need me baby?" Joon mumbled against your lips.

You held him there, close to you, where you could feel his body heat warm you up and smell him- that spicy, woody smell that was all his and now it was spiked with liquor.

"Of course I do," You assured quickly, "You know I do."

He smirked up at you, pressing his lips to yours in a possessive, greedy sort of way that made your head spin. It was like you were the one who was drunk, the way he set your body on fire as he set you down gently, spinning you around so fast you had to catch yourself against the wall, back arched as he pushed your legs apart roughly.

"Lemme go down on you, please? Can I please put my mouth on you?" He asked, large hand working your pussy through your pants.

You moaned, nodding half a second before he ripped your pants halfway down your legs, mouth kissing down the length of your spine almost immediately. He ate you out like that, chest shoved against the wall and holding on for dear life. His tongue was rough and thorough, leaving no part of you untouched.

You felt like a bolt of lightning had struck from your head to your toes, opening up for him as he thrusted in and out of your pussy. He added his fingers as if his tongue wasn't enough, thumb flicking and prodding at your clit until you were cumming against his face, back arched so sharply you were sure to feel sore tomorrow.

It was like all the air had been sucked from the room as he manhandled you, lifting you back up in his arms to take all the work away from you, "You still with me?" He asked, looking down at you with an exhilarated, chaotic look on his face.

You hummed in response, nodding at him as he gathered you in his arms. He gave you his cheekiest grin before you heard the clink of his belt hitting the floor, slamming his hips up into you in one fell thrust. You moaned loudly, raking your nails down his back so sharply it would've broke skin if he wasn't wearing a shirt still.

There was something so satisfyingly lust filled about the way your bodies moved against each others, rough and intense like you hadn't seen each other in ages. He fucked into you hard, filling you in every way possible and then some. The pace Namjoon set was ruthless, burying his head in the crook of your neck and sucking bruises into the skin that would last days.

You grabbed at his hair, tugging on thick black locks with no reservations as he pushed your legs even wider, one pinning your thigh out and the other keeping you half wrapped around him, ankle hooked against his lower back.

"I'm so c-close," You whined, your voice hoarse and dry from moaning out his name.

"Tell me how much you need me," Joon demanded, "Tell me how good you feel and I'll let you cum."

You obliged immediately, never turning down and opportunity to praise your boyfriend. You whined and begged and pleaded for him to make you cum, to touch you the way only he could, to cum inside of you so that you could be his and his only the way you knew you were.

He kept his eyes on your as he touched your clit, thrusts quickening as you came all over his cock, Namjoon finishing closely behind you. The two of you basked in the afterglow, your breathing synced as you floated back down to earth. He didn't bother setting you down, instead simply adjusting his grip on you so that he could carry you more securely.

"Time for that bath, huh?" He suggested, carrying you off towards the bathroom you shared.

It was going to be a long night...

masterlist.

#bts drabble #bts timestamps #bts fic #bts smut #namjoon x you #namjoon drabble #kim namjoon fanfiction #namjoon fluff #namjoon one shot #namjoon fic #namjoon fanfic #namjoon imagine #namjoon smut #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #namjoon x oc

1K notes · View notes

chrollohearttags · 4 months

Text

when the smoke clears • portgas d. ace

vice fire chief!ace helps comfort his subordinate after a rough call.

content + themes: fluff, comfort, ace being a sweetheart (and an asshole 😭), black fem reader, soft smut, oral kissing and hand holding, him + reader crying during 🥹, angst, mentions of arson + child death, so if that triggers anyone I’m sorry.

word count: 6.0K

📝: are y’all sick of me and my cheesy fire pun titles yet? 😁 sorry, I just really love this series and their dynamic. This was also longer than expected but I got carried away! 🫶🏾

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰───────✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰────

many things came with the responsibility of being a firefighter. It wasn’t an easy occupation by any stretch of the imagination. You saw and did things that the average person had the pleasure of not encountering..entire homes, entire families, generations and years worth of memories wiped out in an instant..you oftentimes risked your life with minimal reward whilst also being tasked with the heavy burden of saving others. But when you failed to do so, the weight of the world felt as if it were teeming on your shoulders and it was far too heavy to lift off on your own. Sure, there was therapy..perhaps even certain mechanisms to help you cope but there are some things you don’t forget. And all of that rang true for the newest recruit at Company Eight, (y/n) (l/n), who had just experienced your very first call that resulted in tragedy rather than a rescue. And needless…it had taken its toll…

“Oh!..Hi, Ace..so nice to see you.”

“Good evening, Miss Robin. How are we doing today?”

it was a chilly Wednesday evening..the impending onslaught of winter just around the corner for the big city. Snow had begun to fall, leaves wilting and turning to that beautiful rustic color that signified the turn of the season. It was such a delightful sight..but for you? The world seemed to be standing still, doused in gray and your heart may as well have turned black. Try as you might to hide it but the pain was still too sudden and fresh to just disappear so soon. Currently, you were home..the very spacious, four bedroom, high rise condo overlooking the city that you shared with your two best friends and roommates, Robin and Nami. Nami, who worked for The National Weather Center as a climatologist spent long hours helping to predict forecasts and track the weather patterns so that they can properly inform citizens of any impending storms. It was a rather unique and lucrative job..ideal for her! As for Robin, she was a professor at the local university, teaching archaeological studies and conducting research. She was a scholar; a woman of many academic achievements and just as your boss had arrived at the front doorstep of you guys home, she was preparing to head out for an overnight excavation, being led by other researchers in the field who needed the expertise and knowledge of someone like her. They were extraordinary, talented women who you were happy to call not only friends but sisters. Even so, with all of their intelligence, there was a topic that seemed too difficult to tackle, even for them…

handling grief. Grief that had accrued from your last call and perhaps the hardest one that the firehouse had seen in a while. It was weighing heavy on the hearts of everyone, even the more seasoned veterans but that didn’t make things any easier.

they had watched you traipse about the condo, in a stupor; spending your days off that would’ve been filled with productivity to do all of the things you couldn’t in your harrowing twenty four hour shifts to lie in bed, cry and sleep. It was awful and they couldn’t imagine what it was you were feeling at the moment. So they decided to call in someone with special expertise to help handle the situation. They had both met Ace prior through mutual friends at a gathering and they couldn’t understand why you held such resentment for such a kind, caring gentleman who seemed to really have a soft spot for you. Sure he gave you a hard time but only because your stubborn ass deserved it. If he didn’t put you in your place, who would?

“I’m doing wonderful. Please, come in.” So whilst the two of them were gone, they’d entrust your fate in the hands of the one person you probably preferred not to see but needed to. For the sake of your sanity and your job! With those deep set eyes, dark hair and signature grin, the vice fire chief made his way over the threshold, exchanging typical pleasantries with your roommate before she offered him warm coffee to help deter the cold and he’d happily accept. It was whilst they were at the table, drinking their beverage did the elephant in the room become addressed.

“So..how is she?”

“If you want my honest opinion? Not so great. We had to drag her out of bed for breakfast and a shower. I’ve never seen her like this before.” She’d also go on to explain how you’d woken up out of your sleep, screaming and reaching out to someone. Saying ‘take my hand’..only to slam back down to the mattress in a fit of tears. You’d laugh one moment, be angry the next and then a full sobbing mess afterwards..the realization was setting in for Robin, who was hurting for you. They were helpless and struggled to understand how it was you were feeling, less known to overcome it. Ace, however, had become accustomed to it and had a far better grasp on how to deal with this. Nodding his head, he’d take another sip before speaking.

“I see…y’know, it’s hard to imagine the girl who takes any opportunity she can to bite my head off actually crying. Just doesn’t seem like her..” but Robin could attest. What most mistook for anger or feistiness with you, your girls knew you were emotional at your core. You carried things much more intensely than everyone else. You felt it deeper than anyone else did and because of that, when instances like this happen, you didn’t exactly handle it well.

“She’s resilient..stronger than anyone I know but she’s also a lot more sensitive. (Y/N) has always had a knack for empathizing with others. It’s what I love about her..that kind heart. She always wants to help those around her..maybe that’s why she was adamant on becoming a firefighter. It’s strange..I wanted to stop her when she told us the news. To grab her and ask if she had gone crazy but…my fear didn’t stem from her rushing into burning buildings or an accident..it was something like this. Because she doesn’t just internalize their feelings..she internalizes their suffering, their pain. She tortures herself into believing that if she can’t help someone then she’s failed as a person. That tough exterior is nothing more than a facade, a mask to keep everyone from seeing just how fragile she is.”

it was then that Ace acquired a better understanding of not only your current mental state but you as a person as well. He knew now that the woman who hid behind these stoic faces and temperamental attitudes was actually a sad child who had never healed from past trauma. However, he couldn’t, in good faith..allow you to come back on shift until you were feeling better and if that never happened, then he’d be forced to resort to more permanent measures. Once the two finished up their coffee, Robin would gather her things and prepare to leave. “I'm going to go tell her goodnight and I’ll let her know you’re here..” With that, the tall, dark haired woman headed towards your bedroom. Her backpack, chocked full of exploration equipment and other necessities tossed over her shoulder along with a thermos in hand. She’d leave a faint knock for which you’d allow her in and that’s when she’d be met with the sight of you lying in bed, curled up in the blankets and cradling a stuffed animal. It was the only bit of comfort you’d had.

“Hey, sweet girl. How are we feeling?” Her deep and soothing tone brought you immediate peace as she sat at the edge of your bed, stroking along the side of your face. That nurturing touch was the only semblance of comfort you had felt in these past few days. Even so, you couldn’t bring yourself to admit the truth..the truth that would reveal the fact that you weren’t doing well in the slightest. Curled into a fetal-like position, (y/n) bundled the blanket up to your face. Almost too ashamed and frightened to face her. Abashed by the fact you were behaving this way. Although it couldn’t be helped..not when every time you shut your eyes, you’d relive the horrors of that night. Toiling with it over and over, thinking of what you could’ve done differently. It seemed as if no matter what scenario you went through in your head, it seemed as if the result would be the same. There was nothing that you or anyone else could do..even so, it didn’t stop you from shouldering the blame. However, you wouldn’t be sulking for long if he had anything to do with it. As Robin continued to console you, barely garnering a whisper from you, you’d proceed to tell her that you were okay. Which she knew was a lie but it was better than mere tears..

“C’mon, rookie. Are you really going to stay here sulking? It’s sad..”

Suddenly, your pity fest was soon interrupted by the very familiar and irritating voice of the last person you were hoping to see. Not only would he undoubtedly make you feel worse but you most certainly didn’t want him seeing you in such a state. Although he never voiced it, you had the sneaking suspicion that he thought little of you. That perhaps he bet on the fact that you’d one day succumb to the harsh conditions of this job and wouldn’t be able to handle it. Maybe you were proving him right. You’d feel the bed shift as Robin stood to her feet; only bending down to place a gentle kiss on your temple, telling you that she loved you and would see you later once she returned from her expedition. She’d also take Ace’s appearance as her cue to leave. She felt safe leaving you in his care. Today and any other day..

“..go away, Ace. I’m not in the mood..”

cradling the blanket into your fist, you’d slowly turn back over and avoid facing him. The last thing you wanted to be vexed with was his nonsense. But he wasn’t here to pick a fight or even argue with you. He was used to your anger, used to that foul mouth and bad attitude. What he couldn’t stomach the thought of was you being upset. Kneeling near the side of the bed, he’d press a hand to your covered hip and try to get a peak at your face. Hoping that he’d be able to soften you up. Although it’d be no easy task..that much he was aware of. Still, it wouldn’t stop him from trying his best to make you feel better.

“Yeah..I figured you’d say that.” releasing a heavy sigh, your superior would then rise back to his original posture, before doing something quite unexpected. Suddenly, you’d feel the weight of the bed shift drastically before you were greeted with the sight of him lying next to you! That same obnoxious smirk and deep tone that normally made your skin crawl. Without so much as a warning, he’d peel those covers back from you and reveal your gaze as well. “What are you?--” “There she is..that pretty face. Y’know, crying really doesn’t suit you. Neither does acting like a big ass baby.” As per usual, you wouldn’t get away unscathed without him taking jabs. But this was exactly what you needed. Someone to bring you back to reality! If anyone understood the gravity of the situation you were grappling with and how difficult it was, Ace was the one. He’d seen many tragedies since his time as a firefighter. From car accidents, crime scenes and horrible fires that had destroyed families in a matter of minutes. He had a sort of immunity to it and didn’t let many things phase him for his own mental state. That silly facade was his own coping mechanism. Otherwise, he’d be knee deep in a bottle again and that wasn’t a place he wanted to go back to. But even he could empathize with you on this. It was a brutal scene..one of the worst any of you had ever encountered..it was difficult but you were definitely taking it harder than anyone else.

“And what the hell would you know? Huh? Everything is always a joke to you. They died right in front of me..right in front of me, Ace and I couldn’t do shit!..Do you have any idea what that feels like?!” Just then, your voice would ascend into a higher pitch and you’d become hysterical. You’d become livid..just one of the many emotions you were experiencing. How dare he speak to you as if you were some petulant child throwing a fit? This wasn’t some small mistake you all could laugh off..a mere teaching moment. A family was broken apart at the seams, a mother burying their kids and a cowardly father who took his own life to avoid the consequences. And the only thing that you could do was stand there and watch the flames engulf them. See two innocent babies become swallowed after the support beams of their home fell in front of them. You’d try to run in and save them but were promptly held back by your fellow firefighters. You lacked the experience to tackle such a feat and the only thing your presence would’ve caused was another unfortunate casualty. You even sustained some injuries that hadn’t even hit you until after your adrenaline wore off. But none of that mattered..nothing compared to the pain of seeing two little kids yelling ‘help me’..only two feet away and there was nothing you could do to help them. Your other two teammates rushed in, barely escaping with their lives to assist them instead but by that time, smoke inhalation was what ultimately caused their demise.

“Who does that to their own kids?! What type of fucking monster would burn them up because he was mad at their mom?! Why couldn’t I help them, Ace? Why didn’t you let me?! Do you really hate me that fucking bad!—“

By this point, you were more than lively. A bit more than he anticipated and before he knew it, you were screaming, sobbing and slamming your fists into his chest. He expected this..hell, he blamed himself. As soon as he got the call, he should’ve told you to stay behind. But shielding you only would’ve felt like a slap in the face and he was doing you no favors by sugarcoating the severity of this job.

“Because I didn’t want to lose you too!” suddenly, you’d feel your wrists clutched in his grasp and him holding you close. But you’d also notice the welling tears brimming in his eyes. A true first! This was the very man you’d always catch with that stupid smug grin on his face and laughing. Yet here he was..mirroring your sentiment. He’d then try to feign them off and look away over his own shoulder. Trying not to let you see him in that state. “Damnit, rookie!..you think I did that to spite you? All of this, the whole situation fucking sucks and if there were anything I could do differently, I would. I failed, okay? As your superior and a firefighter..and I have to live with that. I have to face the consequences of my decisions but I couldn’t take it if something would’ve happened to you. I–...” it was only a matter of time before he crumbled and it was seconds later that you’d watch the once strong and upbeat chief fall apart. “I’m sorry, (y/n)..” but alas, his tears and apology didn’t sway your resolve. You were angry with him! Angry that he was yet again protecting you. Now face to face, the two of you sat there..only inches apart. His hand cradling your own and you refusing to let go. This was by far the most vulnerable that you had ever seen him and in a way, it almost made you feel sorry for him but you had to let him know exactly how you felt. Leaning forward, you’d move as if you were trying to kiss him but instead, went for a slap. Bringing him out of his self sulking trance.

“What the hell?!--” “If you’re really sorry, then stop treating me like a goddamned baby! Ace, this job means everything to me. I didn’t become a firefighter to sit on the sidelines and watch people die. And it seems like as of late, all you’ve done is try to coddle and try to shield me from it. I don’t get it..do you really think I’m that useless? How the hell do you think I feel? Everybody thinks I’m incompetent because of you. No matter what I say, I can never look that mom in the eyes and tell her how sorry I am. That I did the best I could because I didn’t. You took that from me, Ace..why do you insist on smothering me?!” and you wouldn’t believe him even if he told you the reason. It’d probably only make you even more irritable. But hell, now was as good of time as any to confess what was on his heart.

“..any man would want to protect the woman he loves, wouldn’t he?” You were still amid your rambling when the words seeped from his mouth. Just as flatly as any other phrase he had uttered before. Almost as if he were afraid to admit it but it was true..every bit of it. He had fallen for you over this past year or so and there was no way of denying it. All of his domineering overbearance was due to this blossoming crush..this deep seeded passion that had sprouted into pure adoration. “Fuck’s sake..swear you drive me crazy, rookie. Can’t believe I’m even telling you this..” That’s when he’d burst into laughter, now swiping the tears away from his puffy, dark eyes. There it was. That’s why he was acting this way..he didn’t want to tell you in fear of pushing you away or even be accused of showing favoritism just because you were a woman. He never once doubted or even questioned your skills. But his feelings? They had grown far stronger than he was ready to accept. He knew you could handle it but in that moment, his natural instinct was to grab you. Even at the expense of your own mental health and pride. Even if it meant you’d hate him for it. Hold you close and never let go..because he didn’t want his last memory of you to be walking to your death. Honestly, he wasn’t being entirely truthful because he knew it’d only make you feel worse but there was nothing that any of you could do. Even the most trained and skilled first responder would not have been able to change the outcome of this tragedy. You all went in and risked your lives for these children but it was to no avail. One step closer and it would’ve been a suicide mission.

“I know it’s selfish and honestly, you have every right to resent me for it but I can’t help myself. You’re a hell of a firefighter, I’ve said that a million times but you’re also the girl I can’t stop thinking about. The one I just want to keep safe and protect from it all but that’s not fair. I can’t ask you to hold back because of my sore feelings. You did everything right, rookie. This isn’t your burden to shoulder so stop sitting around here crying, worrying your friends. None of this is your fault, okay? Nobody blames you, not even that mother. She even came by the fire house to thank you for how quickly you rushed in to help her kids. I just..I can’t take knowing that you feel like this because of my fucking stupidity–”

Quite frankly, you’d heard enough of these pitiful excuses and half assed attempts at trying to do damage control. But most importantly, you couldn’t take anymore of this..no more of his heartfelt confession because then you’d be forced to confront your own emotions. The deep seeded truth that you loved him as well. After a year of intense, passionate hookups and going through arguably some of the worst scenarios together, you couldn’t help but to become close. Even if it went without the obvious mention. Amid his long winded rant, you’d gently cup his cheek into your palm before kissing his forehead and eventually, his lips.

“You’re right about one thing, you are very fucking stupid..”

Immediately sending the flustered chief into a pout. But it was obvious that he meant every word because his cheeks flushed red as he felt your touch. “You don’t mince words, do you?” “No, but I am thankful for you..even if you get on my fucking nerves.” To which he could only chuckle and place his head down. He wasn’t expecting some picture perfect, Hallmark moment with you. That was for certain but you were still just as crass as ever! Reaching over, you’d take his hand and gently caress his knuckles with your thumb pad. “Listen, Ace..I feel the same way you do. As bad as I didn’t want to admit it. Hell, I’d tell myself I was just being delusional but the truth is, you do make me happy..” he couldn’t ask for much more than that, honestly! He was expecting you to be utterly repulsed by his words and here you were saying exactly what he was hoping for. On the contrary though, there was still a tiny bit that he was missing.

“Still..love isn’t supposed to be suffocating or overbearing. I can’t ever grow or learn if you don’t let me. I don’t want to just be ‘the girl you love’, I wanna be your equal…I want you to acknowledge me as a capable firefighter. I don’t want to be coddled and held back. I don’t ever want to feel what I have been for these past few days ever again. I don’t think I can take it..” finally, you’d lean in and cup his cheek; flustered a bright red by your heartfelt words. “I learned from the best, didn’t I? So I think I deserve to prove it.” What more could he possibly say? You were so precious to not only him but everyone at Company Eight. You all were family and losses were never easy, especially when they were so young but you all should have been proud. Proud that they realized your weakness and held you back for your own safety. Proud that you all had done everything you could to rescue those children, even if the result wasn’t what you all hoped and proud that you were still standing here..as a vice chief and fellow friend, he was so grateful for each of you and as much as he wanted to internalize that burden as well, he did none of you any favors by pouting or feeling sorry for himself. The only thing any of you could do now was move forward and keep getting better. Keep training and learn from your mistakes. And if he wanted his team to continue to grow, he couldn’t allow his own fears and bias to cloud his judgment. Otherwise those feelings would swallow him whole and the only thing he’d do is push you away.

“You really are something else, rookie…I swear you make me want to be better than I was the day before..it’s crazy. But I promise I’ll become a chief worthy of your respect. I won’t ever hold you back ever again.”

For now though, he just wanted to be one with you. Be in this moment with you and not let go. To immerse himself in your skin, to touch you and know that he still had you by his side. “I love you, Ace..” tenderly reassuring him as the gap of distance slowly closed between the two of you. A gentle hand cradling his face and his tugging at your hip. There was no greater feeling in the world than this.

“Say that again, baby..tell me one more time.” By now, he had laid you back flat to the mattress and his lips honed in on your neck, suckling and slowly kissing your flesh. Around your earlobe and even your collarbone. You’d utter the words once more and like a wave of fresh water, you’d allow him to drown you in his affection. Giving you the comfort and warmth you so desperately needed. The kind you had been craving. The kind that only he could give you!

“Can you tell me it’s mine?..please?..”

“You sure are demanding today..”

in only a matter of moments, you’d find yourselves entangled in a passionate bliss. His arms wrapped around you and your hands scaled the curvature of his back. This was nice..the only thought that could cross your mind. A simple one but true nonetheless. This familiarity..the comfort of knowing, feeling something that you were used to was nice. A feeling you no longer wanted to fight..you wanted to give in, submit and let the overwhelming emotions swaddle you. Safety, affection, genuine care..they all felt so foreign until you met him. Despite the fighting, anger and resentment. They were the only false feelings you harbored. No matter how far you tried to push him away, he’d only find himself falling deeper.

“Yeah, but at least you’re smiling now so it's fine..” chuckling gently against your lips, causing a faint vibration as he brushed the side of your face. Right now, nothing else mattered. He wasn’t leaving this room until your mind was out of that dark, dreary place. And he knew just how to do the trick. Soon, you’d feel his tongue snake from his mouth and make a beeline from the starting point of your jugular, not letting up until he reached your belly button; pausing only briefly to rid you of the t-shirt that you had been sporting. Immediately sensing the tension in your body resolving by the second. Ace honed in on your very sensitive and erect nipples that seemed to draw forth and elicit the most lively reaction from you. Feeling you tremble, hearing those light huffs…it was all he needed. He'd then lean up to check on his beloved. Adorning your temple with a soft kiss..

“..can I make you feel better?”

and without hesitation..frazzled and with labored breathing, you’d nod your head and whimper. “Y-yes, please..”

from there, he knew exactly what needed to be done. From that point forward, he was at your mercy..in complete and total submission to bring you pleasure. To ensure that you were shrouded in nothing more than bliss. No pain, no tears..he missed that beautiful smile more than anything so he wouldn’t stop until it appeared again. Seconds later, you’d find your leg draped across his shoulder as he made haste in shuffling around to position himself flat on his stomach. It was then that your thighs would become parted and he’d expose your aroused core. Already dampened with warm slick from his previous teasing, he’d run a single finger down the center of your slit..brushing the pad over the surface of your swollen bud. With the liner of your panties still entangled around his digits, he’d keep the shield pulled back as he delved in to enjoy the scent and flavor of your essence. It was divine..just as amazing as always. He didn’t say a word..merely began to muffle his brims around your puffy lips. At this point, pure actions were the only atonement for his behavior. His failure as not only a leader but a lover as well. He hadn’t attended to your needs in any capacity and now, he was going to make it right.

“Ace…”

the words barely escaping above a decibel but he’d merely remain steadfast in his motions. Slowly and delicately tending to your folds. Running his tongue throughout the center of that sweet spot. His head burrowed deep between quaking flesh. Now wasn’t the time for snarky commentary or sarcastic retorts. He was going to prove that every bit of what he said was true. Without so much as a phrase uttered between the two of you, he’d give you the indication to keep grinding yourself against his mouth. Use him to your full advantage and derive all the pleasure you could from him. Ride out your orgasms and let him take away every ounce of your stress..right now, that was his only duty. Grasping for your hands, he’d keep you in place as you rolled and bucked those hips forward, nearly coming forth from the mattress. “Are you okay, baby? Tell me how you feel right now..” but if the faint ring of arousal around his lips and the way you were shaking was any indication, he had to guess that you were feeling pretty damn good! “I—so good..” that was the only thing he wanted to hear. To hear that you were okay. That you were feeling something..that you weren’t entirely numb.

“Thank goodness..here..” he didn’t want you to reach a climax just yet. That was something he wanted the two of you to achieve together. He truly wanted you to be one..

“Look at me..look me in my eyes, right now..” almost subconsciously, your head shifted to perfectly align with his own. Faces only mere inches apart as he bridged the space with slow, soft pecks. Ones that would undoubtedly leave you yearning for more once they concluded. But he wouldn’t dare to pause..dare put a stop to this sensual moment. Your energy meshed with his, your bodies so close and skin pressed directly atop one another’s…there wasn’t a single place he’d rather be than right here. This was more than just sex..a meager compensation for his shortcomings but rather, the birth of a new dynamic. Hoping to leave behind the days of trivial arguments and childish antics..he wanted to scream it from the rooftops that he belonged to you. No more the days of being immature to one another. From here on out, he wanted honest, effective communication. To be real with you in every aspect. To learn about you so that he could be attentive and love you even when it was impossible for you to do so on your own. In your weakest moments, on your bad days and roughest storms, he could be that brave protector you always needed.

“Hold my hands, baby. I’m right here, I promise…” you were barely speaking; eyes soaked and brimming with tears because you’d waited so long to feel this. For someone to come and take your worries away..

“Please..I need it. So bad..”

he dare not deny your request as he hastily removed those sweats, discarding them onto the floor, along with the pair of panties he glided down your calf until hit your foot..your body itself was more than a pleasure vessel. More than just the anatomy itself. Your breasts, your thighs, your center..it was more than that. This was home. Where he’d always come to find solace when he needed it most. Where he’d always return..so when he’d ease himself into you, one inch following the other..breathless moans ensued right behind it. The sensation of being sucked in and never wanting to let go. This is what true love making felt like. Eventually, you’d rope each of your limbs around his frame, coiling him in a tight embrace; mirroring the feeling of your insides around his shaft. Try as he might to push through, Ace was barely making headway..you were so tense still..almost as if you didn’t trust him. He’d heard your sentiments. The ‘I love you’ returned so sweetly but part of you still had reservations. Many nights had you given him your body, willingly without thought. Not searching for a thing other than menial pleasure..and he’d accepted! Selfishly taking you for his own needs and desires but could trust him with your heart? Could you trust him to hold something so fragile and protect it with his life? Would he truly love you the way you deserved?…

“..I’m sorry..”

just then, you’d hear him uttering in a shrill whimper. The warm dampness of his tears soaking your shoulder blades. He was crying!..for the first time ever, he had let go of all borders and barriers. He removed and shed all doubt he’d felt with other women. He was vulnerable..

“I’m so sorry, (y/n)..I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Still easing in and out. That member pushed through the sponge-like bundle of nerves as his words rolled off his quivering lips. Nipping at your earlobe with gentle kisses that sent chills coursing through your spine. He was so remorseful for allowing you to sit here in despair. What type of man was he? “But I’m here now…I’m here now and I promise I’ll never leave you again. You have my word, baby. I love you so much, (y/n)..”

He couldn’t change his past but he could atone right here and now..making a vow to not only you but himself. That he’d never desert you in your time of need..both entrapped in a bout of hysterics, you’d sob quietly whilst your bodies collided in a fit of bliss. The lewd movements became a mere afterthought. You were connected and ascending on a higher plane at the moment and nothing could take you down. “I..I forgive you…I love you too..please..don’t leave me.” Somewhere behind that tough exterior was that frightened girl..once too afraid after being harmed by so many, to confront this scary world was making her reappearance. She was no longer alone. She had friends, amazing coworkers and now? A man who adored her more than life itself. He’d instantly feel those constricting walls loosen at the mention of the apology and now he was swollen and pushing through. The bed would rock underneath your colliding frames and before long, those inevitable peaks drew near.

“So close, baby..just a little more.”

“Don’t stop..”

but he could hold out no longer and neither could you. The intense emotions proved to be too much and you’d succumb to those powerful feelings. The wave of climatic bliss washing over you both in only a few minutes of beginning. That sensitive core gushed with secretions and juices alike, signifying that you couldn’t hold back. And he wouldn’t make you.

“Let it out..there you go. I’m so proud of you, (y/n). That’s my girl..”

Coaching you through that orgasm before he even thought of reaching his own. You’d both release loud cries and tear filled pleas to follow. He’d hold you close and you’d cling to his skin as if you were mere seconds from crawling in. Reveling in the beautiful moment revered as afterglow. It was magical..a type of love that you wanted to experience until the end of time..

“And I’m yours. All yours..I belong to you.”

pain was a temporary sensation, meant to only last for a season. But love? It remained for a lifetime. And much like the flames of a burning fire, sparked from an ember, he’d fight through anything to ensure that what you had lasted. After the blaze was put out and the smoke cleared, no matter the circumstances or storm..he’d be right here. Forever and always!

@honeybleed 🫶🏾

290 notes · View notes

opossum-rights · 3 months

Text

The Way Things Happen

After being caught in a villain attack, your life is intertwined with those of the aspiring heroes that saved you.

<< Prologue - Next Part >>

Word Count, 3.5k

“How are we feeling? Your medication should’ve started kicking in by now,” says a nurse as she goes about conducting your checkup.

“I feel fine.” You give her the thumbs up, not really looking for any conversation. You appreciate how nice the nurses assigned to you are, but you think that’s partly because your parents haven’t visited other than to do paperwork, so they feel bad for you. They were always pretty distant, so you don’t mind them not showing up.

“Alright then, you know what button to press if you need anything.” She scribbles something down on her clipboard and leaves you be.

Back to staring at the ceiling again.

It was about a week after the incident and you were still in the hospital. You’re not sure what’s worse, the dull ache that washes over your body if you so much as squirm, or the boredom you’re faced with everyday. For a while, you were too out of it to realize how stuffy it was being stuck in a hospital bed, but after being taken off the stronger painkillers they had you on, you found yourself staring at the wall more often than not.

A classmate of yours brought your laptop, books, and some other things from your dorm to keep you entertained during your stay. They didn’t help much.

Looking at any type of artificial light for too long makes your head hurt, thanks to your concussion, and everytime you pick up a book you find your attention drifting before finishing the page.

You think it’s the lack of scenery and social interaction that’s making you go stir-crazy the most. Apart from that one classmate, you had no other visitors. The day after you got here a basket arrived from Best Jeanist’s agency, filled with treats and flowers and a card signed by your coworkers.

It makes you sad to think that by the time you’re discharged from the hospital, work studies will be over and it’s back to school. Though it’s nice to know that someone’s thinking of you.

There’s a knock at the door. You tell the person it’s okay to come in as you glance at the clock on the wall. It isn't the time they usually bring you dinner.

“Delivery!” A nurse enthusiastically calls out. You sit up, curious.

In her hands is another ‘get well’ basket, only instead of the sweets in the one you received from your colleagues, this one seems to have some over-the-counter medicine along with some other basic medical supplies, and what looks like a bag of takeout. Taking a closer look at the bag you realize it’s from a restaurant near the U.A. campus; a popular hang-out spot for students, especially after the move into the dorms.

“Who’s that from?” You ask, reaching out to grab it. The nurse shrugged.

“I’m not sure, it was dropped off at the front desk. Receptionist said it was a couple of U.A. boys. Maybe some classmates?”

You try to think of who it might be, but a single name can’t come to mind. You aren’t close with any of your classmates, even considering the one who grabbed your stuff only an acquaintance. Not that you particularly dislike any of them. It’s just that most have that ‘business student attending a prestigious school’ vibe.

“Well, whoever put this together definitely put some thought into it. Maybe they’ll come back.” The nurse sees your bewildered expression. She reminds you how much time there is until your next dosage of medication, then walks out and gently shuts the door behind her.

Despite how confused you are, the takeout has you feeling more upbeat than you’ve been in days. If you’re honest, any other non-hospital food would’ve brought out the same reaction.

You look inside the bag to see a little card on top of the containers. It’s plain white, ‘Get Well Soon’ printed on the front. In your hand, it’s a little warm from the food. On the other side of it is a brief handwritten note.

‘Hi there! I’m not sure if you remember, but we’re the ones who found you after the building collapsed. We’re relieved to hear that you’re doing okay! Always glad to help fellow U.A. student!’

Under the message are three signatures: Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki, and Todoroki Shouto. Going by handwriting, Midoriya was the one who wrote the message. You sort of remember them.

You smile to yourself as you place the card on the bedside table. No longer able to resist the smell, you dig into the takeout bag. What they got were safe choices, in other words kinda plain and not what you would’ve picked, but after days of hospital food, you’re about ready to cry from the flavor.

After you're finished, full and satisfied, you go to toss the bag away when you see a thin white sheet of paper. A receipt from the restaurant. Bakugou was apparently the one who bought it.

He must’ve ordered it from his phone, then gone to pick it up, going by a cell phone number listed. Would it be an invasion of privacy to call or text to thank him?

You decide to sit on it. Looking through the rest of the basket, you find over-the-counter pain relievers, an electric heating pad, some ointments, and some other minor things.

You’re flattered, to say the least.

This sways your decision to reach out, grabbing your phone and the receipt.

‘Hi, this is the student from the hospital. Thank you all so much for saving me and buying me stuff! Food was good.’

You’re not sure exactly what to type, so you decide on something short. Almost immediately after setting your phone in your lap, it pings to let you know you got a response.

‘You better be grateful.’

Huh, not what you were expecting.

‘I really am! The supplies are definitely going to make the next week I’m stuck here more bearable. Tell your friends I said thanks!’

‘Those two dumbasses aren’t my friends’

Ok, you’re getting a better idea of who this kid is. Now that you think about it, wasn’t he the one who had to be muzzled at the sports festival? You’re kinda surprised they let him into the hero course.

Not sure what to say to that, you set your phone down and go back to digging through the basket. All the while, a warm feeling in your chest.

…

It’s a couple of days later, and you’re still holding onto the feeling that popped up knowing those boys thought of you. Truthfully you expect nothing else. What they’ve done for you is more than enough. So it’s definitely a surprise when a nurse slides into your room saying that you have a visitor; a U.A. boy named Midoriya.

You tell her to send him in. Quickly, after she leaves the room, you sit up and brush your hair down. It’s the first time you’ve seen anyone but a nurse in a week, and you’ll admit you haven’t been putting as much thought into your appearance since you got here.

“Um, hello. Is this the right room?” The green-haired boy, who you now know is Midoriya Izuku, nervously steps into the room.

“Y-yeah, it is.” You mentally groan at your awkward response, but he doesn’t seem to mind it.

“It’s great to properly meet you! I’m Midoriya Izuku,” he says with a genuine smile on his face. He holds up another takeout bag in his hand.

“Kacchan, er-Bakugou said you liked the food he picked up last time, so I grabbed you some more.”

“You really didn’t have to, but thank you so much!” You properly introduce yourself, returning his enthusiasm, and gesture to a seat on the side of your bed.

“Since you’re here, let me pay you back at least.” You reach over the other side of your bed to grab your backpack on the floor.

“No, no you really don’t have to!” He shoots his hands up and rapidly shakes his head.

“If you’re sure…” you trail off. You sit back up quicker than you should’ve and feel a slight pain in your ribs. It must show on your face because Midoriya leans closer and looks you over.

“All you alright? Should I call a nurse?” You hurriedly tell him no, that you just moved too fast.

“Still not used to being so fragile,” you painfully chuckle and wave a hand at your leg.

He focuses on your leg, brows furrowing and seeming to be lost in thought. You feel your cheeks warm at the attention, and you ask the first thing that pops into your head to distract him.

“Do you wanna sign it?”

“Huh?” He turns to you with wide eyes.

“Well, you did save me after all. It’d be kinda cool having the autograph of a future pro hero. You can consider me one of your first fans.” Saying this makes him light up.

You grab a marker from your bedside table left by one of the nurses and hand it to him. He stutters out a ‘thank you’ and signs his hero name in neat characters in the space just over your knee.

“Deku, huh? I’ll be sure to remember it.”

After that conversation comes more easily. Both you and him seem more easygoing than when he first arrived. You chat about school, your respective courses, who you’re working under, and even more. Soon a nurse sticks her head in to announce that visiting hours are ending soon.

“Again, thank you for stopping by. Talking with you has been the most fun I’ve had in a while.” Your gratitude makes him blush as he bashfully scratches the back of his neck.

“Really, it’s no trouble at all. I’ve been thinking about you a lot since the incident. You seemed pretty frightened, so I wanted to check up on you.” Now it’s your turn for your face to warm up. You smile at each other.

“Would you mind if I came to visit you again?” He asks as he stands from his seat.

“Of course not, just no more buying me anything. Here,” you grab a napkin from the takeout bag, still sitting unopened, and scribble down your number. He takes it with a smile, and then soon enough he’s out the door.

Deku; you know for a fact that in ten years you’ll be hearing his name in the news all the time.

…

The next day rolls around and you’re in a way better mood than previously. Midoriya had texted wondering how you were, and you even made plans for him to visit later in the week. The uptick in your mood must’ve been obvious, as even the nurses were commenting on it. They were happy to see you so happy.

After your recent checkup, the doctor said that your concussion was healing nicely enough for you to watch some TV, but to turn it off the second your head starts to ache.

That’s where you are right now, getting caught up on the dramas you missed. In fact, you’re so into it that you don’t notice the loud footsteps stomping down the hallway.

You’re leaning in, anticipating the moment the lead confesses her love when your door blows open like an explosion took place in the hallway.

You jump away, watching as a spiky-haired blond boy walks in without saying anything. Again, in a U.A. uniform. It doesn’t take much thinking for you to piece together that this is Bakugou Katsuki.

“What?” He spits out when he sees you staring.

“Uh, what do you mean ‘what’? This is my room,” you point from yourself to the door. He looks at you like you’re an idiot.

“I know that, dumbass. I’m here to give you this.” He stomps up and thrusts a piece of paper at you.

You cautiously glance at him as you take it. You continue to look at him with it in your hand.

“Read it,” he grunts out, moving to the chair next to your bed.

You shrug at him then look at it. It’s a letter from Principal Nezu confirming that due to being injured from no fault of your own, you won’t need to make up for your missed time on your work study nor will you have any extra assignments. There’s even a note at the bottom from Best Jeanist, saying that what happened was tragic and that you’re welcome back to his agency the next time work studies roll around.

You’re touched, and it must show on your face as you hear a scoff from the boy next to you. You’ll be honest, you forgot he was there. Something else you forget was the harsh movements you made when he barged in. A dull pain sets in your leg, and you squirm around to try and get more comfortable.

“What happened?” He’s quieter now, though his words still have a bite to them.

“I just moved too harshly. I’m fine,” you say, and he gives a huff. Things taper off after that. You’re not exactly sure why he stayed past giving you the note.

“Thank you for the other day. You were one of the heroes that saved me from the rubble, right?”

“Damn right, I blew it away. Neither of the other two did jack,” he smirks, pride in his voice.

“Yeah? Well, thanks for the food too. I really like that place.”

“Hospital food tastes like shit. It’ll probably make ya even worse,” he looks away when he replies.

He takes a glance at your cast, more specifically the name on it.

“Deku…” He looks pissed off.

“You want to sign it too? You’re also one of my heroes,” you say as you grab the marker and hold it out to him.

Bakugou looks startled by your offer, but only for a moment. He roughly grabs that tool from you and gets to work. He signs his hero name in big, scratchy characters right above Midoriya’s. With an upward twitch of his lips, he caps the marker and throws it back onto the table.

“Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite…” You’re not sure if you were just pranked. Seeing the disbelief on your face as you look back at him, he scowls.

“Better remember it,” he’s serious. Not wanting to piss him off even more, you move on to flattery.

“Don’t think I could. Look forward to seeing it up on the charts!” This pleases him, you think. You’re sincere when you say it.

You make small talk for the rest of his time there. It’s mostly you egging him on. You talked about class, how he’s at the top of his both in academics and strength (you have no way of knowing if that’s true), and how he interned under Best Jeanist earlier in the year, that’s why he was the one to get the note.

Eventually, a text pops up on his phone and he glances at it, scowling once he sees who it is.

“Damn hag,” he mutters as he slings his bag over his shoulder and stands.

“Don’t die,” he’s blunt as he turns back at you in the doorway.

“Not planning on it,” you reply, giving him a little wave. He stomps back out the door, slamming it shut of course. It sounds like he pauses outside, then you can hear his footsteps move down the hall back to the elevators.

He sure has a strong presence, and you know how far that’ll take him in this industry.

…

Suddenly it’s a few days later, the day you planned for Midoriya to visit. You were excited, and a bit jumpy. Even with a preset time you found yourself hopping up everytime the door opened, only to be disappointed once it’s just a nurse.

You found yourself wanting to impress him, or at least not look like you’ve been stuck in the hospital for weeks. A nurse assisted you in taking a bath, and you put on a sweater over the top of your hospital gown. You’re afraid there’s no hiding how dead your skin looks with the lack of direct sunlight.

The time ticks on. You set your eyes to the clock set high in the corner of the room and watch as the hour and minute hands place themselves where they need to be, then past.

At first you can excuse it, his train probably got delayed or there was an emergency. You really didn’t want to blame him for it. He was a hero in training, after all, he probably didn’t have time to spend with a kid in the hospital.

There’s a lock at the door. You twist around, hope being brought back.

“Come in!” You try to play it cool and keep the excitement out of your voice.

There’s a pause on the other side. The door slowly opens to show not who you were expecting. It’s a boy with two-toned hair, and two different colored eyes. This is Todoroki Shouto if you remember correctly.

“Midoriya’s in the bathroom,” he stated as he stood in the doorway. You light up and smile at him, overjoyed to hear that he hasn’t ditched you.

“Thanks for letting me know. You can sit down, if you want,” you wave a hand to the chair at your bedside.

He nods, then moves to sit. As he does, he seems to realize something and briefly introduces himself. You do the same.

You had your fair share of awkward moments when Midoriya and Bakugou first came to visit, but they both did their part in providing small talk. This boy, on the other hand, is content with being quiet. You’re more intimidated by him than you were with Bakugou.

As you try and think of something to say, you hear a murmur.

“That’s what he picked?” You glance over to see he’s staring at your leg, where his teammates have written their hero names.

“Yeah, Bakugou’s sure is… something. It does fit him, though.” He agrees with that, not saying anything else. You decide to hurry things along and grab your trusty marker, pointing it at him between your fingers. He looks at you blankly.

“Go on, the other two did. You were also there to help me. Thank you for that, by the way,” you give him a smile as you shake your hand lightly.

“I’m a hero, it’s my job. You don’t have to thank me.” He takes the marker anyway. Under your knee, he writes his name in small, neat characters. When he’s finished he caps the pen and sets it back on the table.

“Shouto? Staying true to yourself, nice.” He gives you a barely there smile, and is about to say something when the door rushes open.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! Todoroki wanted to come with when I said I was visiting,” Midoriya slightly bows as he apologizes.

“It’s fine. I have nothing else to do other than wait.” You wave him off.

Looking around, you realize the only place to sit in the room is being taken up by Todoroki. You could call a nurse, but you’d feel bad making them leave their station just for a chair. Moving your good leg more towards you, you pat at the empty space. He looks unsure of it, but you pat it harder to get the point across that it’s fine. Hesitatingly he sits on the edge of the bed, being very conscious of your cast.

You all get to talking a bit more, mostly you and Midoriya, but sometimes Todoroki’s dragged in by one of you, but he doesn’t seem to mind it.

…

As they’re getting ready to leave you call out to them.

“I know I probably said it a thousand times, but really thank you guys. If it wasn’t for you I’d be in even worse shape, or maybe dead,” you blink away tears in your eyes as you tell them. They both freeze at your expression.

Todoroki doesn’t seem like he knows what to do, but Midoriya gently places a hand on your shoulder. You place a hand over his.

“You guys are already amazing heroes.” They both are happy to hear that.

“Thank you, that means a lot to hear,” Midoriya sounds genuine, the light in his eyes warms your chest.

“So, see you later?” You let go of his hand, and he backs up to where Todoroki is by the door.

“Of course, I’ll text you when I have a free day.”

“Is it alright if I visit again?” The quiet boy speaks up. You’re surprised, but glad he seemed to have a nice time.

“Definitely, you guys are the only people I see outside of the nurses. It keeps me from going crazy.” They have a strange look flash across their faces, but quickly go back to normal and make to leave when a nurse walks in with some of your medication.

You don’t know if you can consider them friends yet, but you have a feeling these boys will stick around.

#Bnha #mha #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki #izuku midoriya #midoriya x reader #deku x reader #katsuki bakugou #gn reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #my hero academia x reader #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #deku

144 notes · View notes

sophieinwonderland · 4 months

Text

Now, why would you dare me to embarrass you and your pals like that?

I appreciate how you wanted my attention so bad you posted me to not one, but two subreddits.

Makes a girl feel special! 🤣

I have actually never seen Wikipedia cited as a source about endogenic plurality. Though I do see anti-endos all the time, when asked for sources, telling people to just Google things.

Anyway, here's @guardianssystem's document filled with academic papers about endogenic plurality:

I've compiled my own, but honestly, theirs is better organized than mine.

And in the interest of fairness, here are all the anti-endo papers debunking endogenic plurality:

Sorry, I forgot. Those don't exist. Oops. 🤷‍♀️

Echo chamber? LOL!

Weren't you the one spouting a bunch of lies on Tumblr, got totally debunked, posted the people who debunked you to r/systemscringe to have a hugbox where fakeclaimers could assure you how the people who contradicted you are all fakers, and then blocked everyone who disagreed with you?

Weren't you also the one who, when shown a quote from an expert in dissociative disorders who worked on the DSM-5 saying that a disorder isn't a disorder if it doesn't cause distress, argued that the people who defined what disorder are must be wrong about that definition?

You're a misinformation machine who can only find support when huddled in cringe subreddits. Don't try to talk about people in echo chambers.

Also, you know most of psychology is just... listening to people? That's how it's been as long as the field existed. DID (or MPD at the time) was a recognized disorder since long before the first brain scans were conducted on DID patients. It's saying something though when basically every single scientist who has ever researched endogenic plurality has said they believe it's a real thing, or that it could be. While absolutely zero academic papers have expressed that it's fake.

There is also an fMRI study into tulpa systems that's been in the works, but results have yet to be published.

Sure, if that's what you'd like me to call you, Crazy. 😊

Anyway, Crazy, you should know that just because you personally find something scary doesn't mean everyone will or that the thing is bad. Personal preferences are a thing.

In a study of tulpamancers though, most generally reported their lives becoming better after the practice.

78% reported improvements in their mental health, and 91% on overall life.

There are many out there who would jump at the chance to have someone there with them that knows them intimately, and to never have to be alone again.

If it's not for you, then so be it.

But it's certainly not something to be afraid of.

And maybe, for those who are willing to commit to the practice while America struggles with an epidemic of loneliness, it's something worth being open to.

This is actually pretty fair.

But that's now, and I'm looking at course of history and trends of plural acceptance.

300 years ago, any plural would be viewed as demon possessed and end up tortured or killed for their plurality.

70 years ago, all plurality was seen as a mental illness, and it was common to force plurals, as well as anyone else associated with mental illnesses, into asylums.

30 years ago, the first real plural communities were able to connect on the internet and form in small numbers.

8 years ago, the first studies into endogenic plurality started being conducted. 4 years ago, the ICD-11 acknowledged that you could have multiple distinct personality states without a disorder. 2023 marked the first, but certainly not the last, time a system used their system name as an author of an academic paper.

Recently, new plural resources have been designed and put into use. More servers than ever are using Pluralkit. And Simply Plural went from 100k users at the end of 2021 to 210k at the end of 2022.

Progress is happening far more rapidly than you realize. And you had best be ready for it.

BOO! 👻

Oh, hey, I just realized... this is literal pluralphobia!

Liberté!

Egalité!

Fraternité!

And yes, The Future is Plural! 😜

124 notes · View notes

fatphobiabusters · 3 months

Note

so i have a question, recently my doctor has recommended i lose weight for some health reasons, if i choose to go with that and lose weight willingly, does that make me fatphobic?

I can't tell you what to do with your body. Those decisions are yours. Life is complicated and nuanced, and so is oppression. If a trans person willingly loses weight because that's the only way the bigoted medical system will allow them to have top surgery, does that make them fatphobic?

Ultimately, what matters to me most is ending fat people's systemic oppression. What an individual person decides to do with their body, I don't really have the energy to care about. All of my mental energy is going towards more important matters that I do have a say in, like ending the wage gap that fat people endure and supporting fat positive legislation.

So whether or not the decision you make is fatphobic, you have bodily autonomy. Now if you're doing this because you believe weight equals health, well, "weight equals health" is fatphobic rhetoric. If you decide to lose weight because you want to feel superior to fat people, yeah, I'd say that's probably fatphobic. But my lack of mental energy to dictate what someone should do with their body, plus how nuanced and unique every situation is, makes me want to answer this ask with a shrug ¯\_( ￣o￣ )_/¯

You do what you want to do. If someone had a terminal illness and was told they'd magically survive by losing weight, I don't think I could blame them for trying when they're in such a desperate situation. I think the more important question to ask yourself is "Will this actually improve my health? Or will this harm me?"

Some other good questions to ask yourself are:

"How permanent would this weight loss actually be?"

"Is my doctor telling me to lose weight as their only means of treatment for me? Did they even examine me? What quality of healthcare am I receiving?"

"Is it specifically weight loss that helps this condition? Or is it certain behaviors that help and happen to sometimes include weight loss as a side effect?"

"Is weight gain what caused this condition? Is the answer to the previous question scientifically proven, or is it correlation? Is weight gain actually a symptom?"

"What scientific research is my doctor using to justify their recommendation that I focus on weight loss? How long was the study conducted for? Are there conflicts of interest? Does this study contain validity errors?"

I hope these questions will help you with the decision-making process. Good luck

-Mod Worthy

#bodily autonomy #healthism #diet culture #fatphobia #medical fatphobia #Mod Worthy #ask #justaskingquestionstbh

135 notes · View notes

fincalinde · 5 months

Note

you’ve mentioned a few times in your meta that you view nmj as being hypocritical, and i’m inclined to agree with you! would you share some specific quotes from the text that you feel especially support this reading of his character? 👀

It is one of my favourite words to apply to him, isn’t it! I think that’s because a) it’s true, and b) NMJ’s reputation for righteousness (and his belief in his own righteousness) grant an in-universe illusion of consistency that often bleeds through to external readings of him. So I press the point, because it’s fundamental to his character and I usually see it elided or reduced to all-bark-and-no-bite-grumpy-bear-with-a-heart-of-gold fanon NMJ.

And oh yes, there’s an absolute wealth of quotes supporting this. As always, I use the EXR fan translation because I’m old school.

Christ, this got long. Click for more.

It’s all relative, man

First we need to establish what NMJ’s principles supposedly are.

[Nie Huaisang’s] brother, Nie Mingjue, was extremely resolute when carrying out orders, quite renowned in the cultivation world. […] Nie Mingjue had always taught his younger brother with extreme harshness, particularly caring for his studies. (Chapter 13)

[…] he took over the Nie Sect before he even reached twenty, doing everything in a direct, forceful fashion. (Chapter 21)

When he lived, Nie Mingjue was often exasperated by the fact that his brother didn’t meet expectations, so he disciplined him strictly. (Chapter 21)

In spite of Nie Mingjue being a junior to Jin Guangshan, he conducted himself in a strict manner and refused to tolerate Xue Yang no matter what. (Chapter 30)

Without any hesitation, Nie Mingjue scolded, “Drinking the water he brought you while speaking such spiteful words! Did you join my forces not to kill the Wen-dogs but to make idle talk?!” (Chapter 48)

“A proper man should carry himself with proud righteousness. There’s no need to care for the talk of those idlers.” (Chapter 48)

As we can see, NMJ is all about righteousness, but we don’t get too many details confirming what that righteousness entails. We’re expected to make assumptions based on context: that his values are in line with the ideal values of his society, and that he’s living his life according to those principles (and enforcing said principles on others).

This is worth keeping in mind. We know NMJ is ‘righteous’. We know, in a general sense, what societal standards for morality are in this setting and we see the tension between society’s theoretical standards, its actual standards, and the moral frameworks of characters such as WWX and LXC. And there’s tension between those standards and NMJ’s moral framework, too. But though WWX attempts (and fails) to opt out and LXC attempts (and fails) to find a better way through open conversation and consideration of context, their failures are not due to hypocrisy but instead larger forces at play. In other words, they go up against society and society wins.

NMJ has a problem with society too, but for him the problem is not with its rules and assumptions—it’s with the individuals who make it up. He has no problem with the system. To NMJ, the system is a good thing. If only the people in it would rigidly conform to the rules, everything would be fine. And an outlook like that can only ever lead to hypocrisy, not just because human beings and their actions don’t fit into rigid categories, but because by not attempting to navigate the system (LXC, JGY, JC) or even attempting to opt out (WWX, LWJ, XY), NMJ positions himself above society, as a moral arbiter.

This is why he feels entitled to upbraid JGS, who is a generation above him. It’s why he feels entitled to harass and attempt to murder JGY for not being loyal to NMJ over and above his filial duty to his father. These actions are after he’s reached the point of no return with the sabre spirit, yes, but they didn’t come out of nowhere. It’s just the nadir of a path he’s been on presumably his entire life.

All the information is on the task

NMJ is very good at bending his supposedly rigid principles when it’s convenient for him, while not offering any grace or understanding to others who do the same. And ‘others’, let’s be real, usually equates to JGY. The horror vortex of NMJ’s obsession with controlling JGY really cannot be escaped.

Let’s start with the biggie. JGY is naturally the one who calls NMJ out, because he’s the only one who can see the emperor has no clothes, and by clothes I mean leg to stand on.

“But, Brother, I have always wanted to ask you something—the lives under your hands are in any regard more than those under mine, so why is it that I only killed a few cultivators out of desperation and you keep on bringing it up, even until now?” (Chapter 48)

“Are you saying that all of the people you killed deserved their deaths? […] Then, may I ask, just how do you decide if someone deserves death? Are your standards absolutely correct? If I kill one but save hundreds, would the good outweigh the bad, or would I still deserve death? To do great things, sacrifices must happen.” (Chapter 48)

Chifeng-zun, my man, he has nailed you. The point is not to start drawing equivalences in quite the way JGY is doing—I would certainly argue that if you’re killing undeserving people for the greater good you’d better have one hell of a greater good to be aiming for, even in the crapsack world of MDZS. JGY’s argument is partly a numbers game, but I want to set that aside, because it’s a distraction from his core point, to which numbers are irrelevant: can NMJ truly justify every single murder he has ever committed? Because if he can’t, he’s condemned by his own supposed standards. Note JGY’s use of the word ‘absolute’. NMJ is a moral absolutist! Is he absolutely sure? And if he is sure, does it matter that he’s sure? Why is his certainty more important than anyone else’s?

NMJ never once grapples with these questions. If he did, he might be able to pull the teeth of his own hypocrisy by acknowledging it and engaging with it. But of course he’s not capable of that, certainly not by the time of this scene.

And speaking of NMJ’s hypocrisy re: who does and doesn’t deserve to die…

“Very well! I’ll kill myself after I kill you!” (Chapter 49)

But Roquen, you cry! NMJ says such an utterly mad thing because he’s battered and beaten and not thinking clearly, not to mention past the point of no return with the sabre spirit as he’s been cultivating with resentful energy intensely throughout the war! That’s why he walks it back after LXC intervenes!

To which I say: it is almost as though context matters!

And yes, I’m aware of the context. I’m aware that just before this bit of dialogue the narrative claims JGY pointing out ‘if I hadn’t killed them you’d be dead’ is a subtle way of saying ‘you can’t kill me because you owe me your life’ as though that’s purely manipulative rather than being, you know, true. ‘Even if you refuse to accept I acted for the best, please don’t kill me and I’m going to subtly remind you that you owe me to maximise my chances of getting you to not kill me (after I just risked my life to save yours when it would have been 100x better for me personally if you died)’ is hardly an outrageous position.

It’s interesting, though, isn’t it, that NMJ never again mentions taking his own life as a matter of principle, despite the fact that he subsequently attempts to murder JGY again for the apparently unforgivable crime of … not being able to overrule his abusive father about XY, and then having the temerity to complain to LXC about NMJ’s attempt to murder him.

Obviously the Jin are a huge threat after the war, but these are all pretty feeble reasons for piling on JGY. Sure, maybe JGY would also have tried to protect XY if JGS weren’t around, but the fact is that JGS is around and he’s calling the shots. Besides, once JGS is out of the picture JGY has no issue disposing of XY (with Dr Evil levels of ineptness, apparently), so that’s a fairly decent indicator he’s not ride or die. As for the fact that JGY is making nice to NMJ’s face but complaining behind his back, well. Regardless of any genuine desire to vent to his only friend, I have no doubt he was indeed trying to drive a wedge between NMJ and LXC as a strategic move. But is it wrong of him to do so, considering NMJ is a genuine and present threat to his life and LXC is just not getting it? And does any of the above, including his struggle to maintain his position and all the other work he does for his father mean he deserves death—immediate, extrajudicial and violent death?

Let me put it this way. NMJ is making JGY responsible for his father’s actions and his father’s orders—the question of whether JGY is on board with his father’s instructions is academic, because he has no choice in the matter. JGY cannot opt out of his situation. The only opt out is death, and that is not a meaningful choice because no one else is getting vilified for having the audacity to fight for their place in their world rather than lie down and die. And even if JGY really were a cackling supervillain 100% on board with his father’s diabolical plans, NMJ’s focus on him to the exclusion of JGS is driven by emotion and not by a rational evaluation of the morality and logistics of the situation.

And when he’s insisting that JGY deserves death (and trying to mete it out to him) NMJ never again considers for a moment whether, if JGY really deserves to die, then maybe he does too.

As a third example, to make it a hat trick, we have this:

However, Jin Guangyao wasn’t his subordinate anymore. Only after they became sworn brothers would he have the status and the position to urge Jin Guangyao, like how he disciplined his younger brother, Nie Huaisang. (Chapter 49)

“Brother, it really was my father’s orders. I couldn’t refuse. Now. if you want me to take care of Xue Yang, what would I say to him?” (Chapter 49)

NMJ is perfectly aware that according to the rules of their society and the moral framework he himself subscribes to, JGY’s highest authority is his father. But NMJ can’t accept that. He thinks he should be the ultimate authority over JGY, and though he couches it in moral terms about wanting JGY to follow the correct path, what he really means is what he himself considers to be the correct path. As always, he doesn’t listen to JGY’s perfectly valid points about how it’s not possible for him to do the ‘right’ thing as he just doesn’t have that kind of authority and will only end up making his own life worse. I don’t have a quote demonstrating this, but considering everything we know about NMJ, I think we can infer he would not take kindly to JGY ordering NHS to do something futile and self-destructive in the name of the correct path, purely on the grounds that JGY is now his elder brother.

I’ll acknowledge again that JGY is absolutely an accomplice in his father’s schemes, and the originator of a fair few of them since he’s politically gifted. But it’s just not possible to untangle JGY’s complicity from his need (and his right!) to survive. NMJ is correct to be concerned about JGY as a risk, because he’s a huge asset to JGS. But once again, making JGY a target is not the moral or even the sensible thing to do. We know JGY enjoys aspects of what his father asks him to do. We also know that once his father is out of the picture he gets rid of XY, purges the Jin of corruption and pushes through the watchtower project. When he has agency as a clan leader he doesn’t follow his father’s political agenda to the letter, to say the least! So there is certainly a large dollop of truth in his claims that he has no choice and he’s unhappy and vulnerable.

And then a bonus, something not linked to JGY to demonstrate that NMJ’s hypocrisy extends beyond his personal vendetta.

Nie Mingjue spoke coldly. “If she responded with only silence and not opposition when the Wen Sect was causing mayhem, it’s the same as indifference. She shouldn’t have been so disillusioned as to hope that she could be treated with respect when the Wen Sect was doing evil and be unwilling to suffer the consequences and pay the price when the Wen Sect was wiped out.” (Chapter 73)

Charming. Funny how NMJ says this after spending the war fighting on the same side as the guy who invented demonic cultivation and controls an army of desecrated corpses, violating every possible social and cultural principle they have. But the Sunshot Campaign would have failed without WWX’s contributions, so I suppose NMJ thought that compromise was acceptable. It’s all right for him to stay silent and not oppose WWX, since WWX has been useful to his own agenda. What’s not acceptable is staying silent when the consequence is your own violent death and literally no good whatsoever being achieved thereby.

Aside from being a hypocrite, NMJ is also pathologically incapable of self-reflection.

Finish him!

At the end of the day, NMJ’s principles are inherently contradictory because he’s living in morally relative world where the narrative expects us to take context into account and root for a protagonist who brutally tortures his enemies to death and a romantic lead who find+replaces his ethical framework with ‘Wei Ying’.

It is simply not possible for NMJ to be both righteous and rigid, so when he chooses to be rigid he foregoes being righteous. Even in his moments of flexibility, he continues to apply harsh standards to others that he refuses to apply to himself. That’s what makes him a hypocrite. He isn’t a bastion of absolute morality in a sea of corruption. He’s in denial about the nuanced reality he’s living in, and placing himself on high as a moral authority with no actual mandate. Hypocrisy inevitably results, and the consequences are hugely damaging to everyone around him.

#ask #thatswhatsushesaid #roquen meta #like i said he is FASCINATING #but in a horrifying kind of way #i should also sling in the tags a clarification #that i literally do not care that wwx has an army of desecrated corpses #i'm just pointing out that like you know #it's relevant #if i applied my actual real life moral standards to this text #i wouldn't be able to engage with it all #bc everyone is a walking war crime

111 notes · View notes

chicgeekgirl89 · 3 months

Text

Rating: T Words: 6,934 Summary: In the hours after their wedding Carlos struggles to balance his joy with his grief. A/N: Please accept this in lieu of Seven Sentence Sunday! Thanks for the tags @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @kiwichaeng, @carlos-in-glasses, and @strandnreyes! Read on AO3

The reception has been in full swing for three hours.

Carlos smiles softly as he watches Ana swing his nephew around on the dance floor to Kanye West’s “Gold Digger;” a song that he’d definitely put on the no-play list and apparently T.K. had taken right back off again.

In the end, the hours they spent agonizing over the playlist for the DJ, the color of the napkins, and the font for the invitations don’t even matter. They’re not what he’ll remember from tonight.

When he thinks of this night for the rest of his life he’ll remember the tears in T.K.’s eyes as he said his vows, the way it felt to hold him during their first dance, and the joy on their friends’ faces as they smeared cake all over each other. He’ll feel the ache in his heart over the way his mother’s eyes had gone glassy while she pinned on his boutonniere, the way Luisa had clung just a little tighter than normal to her husband’s hand, the way he kept looking for his father in the crowd only to remember that he’ll never see him again.

The joy and the grief are twined together in his soul in a way that he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to separate. And he can only hope that one day they bloom into something that feels like peace.

The day hasn’t been perfect; he’s not sure anything is ever going to feel perfect again. But it has been good. Their family, their friends, their love, it’s all so, incredibly good.

What’s not good is that he hasn’t laid eyes on his husband in nearly thirty minutes. Having T.K. by his side is the only thing that has made today bearable, and now that he’s not here Carlos feels adrift and exhausted.

His eyes search the crowd, taking in Nancy and Mateo who are slow dancing and both more than a little tipsy, his mom talking with one of the caterers about what to do with the leftover cake, Owen chatting with his brother and their family. But T.K.’s sweet face still eludes him.

He’s about to get up and go conduct a physical search of the premises, but then a hand, its weight familiar even if the gold band on the third finger is still slightly foreign, squeezes his shoulder and T.K. drops into the seat next to him, a plate in his hands.

His jacket and tie are gone, the top few buttons of his shirt open so that Carlos can see his medallion gleaming in the soft lights that illuminate the dance floor. His hair is a wreck, sweaty and all over the place, and there’s this glow about him, like the joy of the day has lit up his body from the inside out.

He’s never looked more beautiful.

“How many pieces of cake have you had?” Carlos asks, a fond smile on his lips.

“Three? Four? No idea babe,” T.K. says spearing another forkful. “It’s our wedding day, the calories don’t count. Want a bite?”

He extends his hand, but Carlos shakes his head. “I’m good thanks.”

Instead of eating it T.K. sets the plate and fork on the table then leans forward and puts a hand on Carlos’ knee, studying his face. “You’re tired,” he says softly.

“I’m okay,” Carlos assures him. “I’m—I’m so happy T.K.”

“I know you are. But you’ve barely slept this week,” T.K. says. “It’s okay to be happy and want today to be over.”

Leave it to T.K. to put what he’s feeling into words. He doesn’t want this day to end; he wants to stay here and dance and laugh and feel the sparkling joy of forever with those he loves. But he also wants to curl up in bed with T.K., wrapped in the quiet softness of his arms, and be alone together.

Sometimes his husband knows him better than he knows himself.

He must stay quiet for too long, because T.K. squeezes his knee. “Let’s leave.”

“We can’t leave,” Carlos tells him, checking his watch. “We still have another hour of the reception.”

“Is there a rule that says we have to stay for the whole thing?”

“Well we paid for the whole thing, so we probably should.” He looks out at the crowd again. Paul and Marjan are yucking it up on the dance floor while Asha laughs, Judd and Grace cheering them on. His mom is bringing drinks to his sisters who are watching the kids play with a bunch of glow sticks the staff just provided. It’s beautiful and bright and there’s no way they can leave it behind.

“It’s our wedding,” T.K. says. “We can do whatever we want.”

Carlos hesitates. It’s so tempting. It’s what he really wants. But T.K. is here, eating cake, and clearly having the time of his life. He can’t pull his new husband away just because he’s tired. “I’m really okay,” he says again. “Go back out there and dance.”

T.K. stands, but he doesn’t head back toward their family and friends. Instead he holds out a hand. “Come on.”

Carlos takes it and T.K. pulls him to his feet and then toward the building, away from where the party is. “T.K. where are we going?” he asks.

“We’re leaving,” T.K. says. “And before you say anything,” he continues, cutting off Carlos’ protest, “this is what I want. This day has been…it has been everything I dreamed it would be and more Carlos. But our marriage isn’t about today, it’s about the rest of our lives. And taking care of you is the most important thing I’ll ever do. So we’re leaving. Okay?”

He gives Carlos’ hand a squeeze and tugs him along down the hallway toward the rooms where they’d gotten ready this morning. It takes only minutes for Carlos to pack up his things. Everything is neat and tidy, just the way he left it. T.K.’s room on the other hand is a bit of a wreck and Carlos would tease him about it if he wasn’t so ready to get out of here.

Instead he helps T.K. hunt for a missing sneaker, fetches his toiletry kit from the bathroom, and waits patiently as T.K. stuffs the clothes he came in into a duffel bag.

He’s zipping it closed when the door opens and Ana walks in. She immediately yelps and claps a hand over her eyes, then drops it just as suddenly. “Sorry, sorry! I saw you two and assumed I was walking in on reception sex, but you’re both fully clothed so, obviously not. Or you were about to have reception sex and I interrupted. In which case sorry again.”

“Ana what are you doing down here?” Carlos asks.

“The kids and I are playing hide and seek. So far I’m winning,” she says. “Why are you fully clothed? And packing a duffel bag? Are you about to make an Irish exit from your own wedding?”

Carlos looks at T.K. then back at his sister. “Yes,” he says.

Her eyes go soft with understanding. “Good. I’ll cover for you with Mom, okay?”

He opens his arms and she walks into them. She’s his big sister, but he’s been taller than her for years and he easily envelopes her in a hug. “Love you,” he mumbles into her hair.

“Love you too Carlitos,” she says, her voice a little rough, like she’s holding back tears. “And you T.K.,” she says when they pull apart, going in to hug him too. “Now go. Get out of here. Go start your life together.”

The Camaro is still where he parked it twelve hours ago and just remembering how long the day has been has Carlos sagging a little with fatigue. “I’ll drive,” T.K. offers, and Carlos hands over the keys without resistance.

They’re married now, the Camaro is half his anyway.

Funny how he thinks of everything they own as half T.K.’s except for his heart. That’s belonged to him fully since day one.

“Are you hungry?” T.K. asks as he starts the car. “We can stop and pick something up.”

“Not really,” Carlos says. “We can always order room service at the hotel when we get there.”

Owen booked them a room at some swanky place in downtown Austin where they’re staying for a couple nights before they leave for their honeymoon. They have the honeymoon suite which boasts a jacuzzi, a balcony, a king size bed, access to the hotel’s spa, and a butler. It’s incredibly generous of his father-in-law, and if it were any other time, Carlos would be looking forward to all the things they’re about to do in that hotel room. But tonight? He’s just so. damn. tired.

He must fall asleep on the drive because the next thing he knows T.K. is squeezing his bicep gently and he’s blinking gritty eyes open. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep or the emotions of the day, but he doesn’t recognize where they are until he stumbles blearily out of the car. He turns and looks at T.K. in confusion over the Camaro’s hood.

“My dad called the hotel and asked them to push the reservation to tomorrow,” T.K. says. “After he explained, they were more than willing to accommodate us. I thought tonight—“ He looks up at the brick building in front of them, “—it felt like you might just want to be home.”

This is what finally breaks him.

It’s as if the center of his chest rips open and he caves inward, wrapping his arms around his ribs to try and hold himself together. How is it possible to feel so elated and so anguished at the same time?

T.K. is there, his hands coming up to cradle Carlos’ face. “It’s okay baby,” he says. “You’re okay.”

“Thank you,” Carlos manages, his voice cracking over the words. “T.K. I—“

“Shh,” T.K. soothes. He presses a kiss to Carlos’ forehead. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

Carlos leans heavily against T.K. in the elevator. They’re halfway up before he realizes they didn’t bring in their bags and says as much to T.K. “We’ll get them tomorrow,” T.K. tells him gently. “There’s nothing in there that can’t wait until morning.”

Carlos clings to him like a child, tears still streaming freely as T.K. rubs his arm and murmurs sweet things into is curls while they wait for the elevator to reach their floor.

“Why don’t you go take a shower?” T.K. suggests once they’re inside the loft. “I’ll make us some tea.”

It’s ridiculous, but the thought of being separated from T.K. for even as long as cleaning himself up feels impossible to bear. “Come with me?” Carlos asks. “Please?”

“Yeah, baby. Of course.” T.K. brings Carlos’ knuckles to his lips for a kiss and then guides him toward the bathroom.

Carlos doesn’t realize his hands are shaking until he starts trying to undo the buttons on his shirt. He only manages a few before T.K. takes over, strong, capable, and steady. When he finishes Carlos slides it off, letting it drop to the floor without caring that it’s not anywhere close to their laundry basket. His undershirt, pants, boxer briefs, and socks join it as T.K. turns on the spray of the shower.

Carlos steps in, the water hitting him in the face, not fully warm yet. He closes his eyes and lets it pour down, holding his breath until his lungs feel like they might burst. He only releases it when he feels T.K. step in behind him, his husband’s hand finding the small of his back. Carlos leans into him as T.K. presses a soft kiss into the skin of his shoulder before reaching around Carlos for the shampoo.

“I can do it,” Carlos tells him.

“It’s okay,” T.K. says softly. “I got it.”

T.K.’s hands work through his curls first, soft and gentle, and then down the rest of his body. The water washes away the sweat and the tears, but not the ache that now lives permanently between Carlos’ ribs. It hurts more with every breath and he struggles to try and push past it. He doesn’t want to feel this. Not tonight.

“Go dry off,” T.K. says when all the suds have been rinsed away. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Carlos towels off, pulling on a pair of sweatpants before sinking down on the edge of their bed. He should do something. It’s their wedding night. He should pour sparkling cider or sprinkle rose petals or find the leftover chocolate covered strawberries his sisters brought to their family dinner that are somewhere in the back of the fridge. But he can’t make himself move. All he can do is sit and try to remind himself how to breathe. In, out. In, out. In…

T.K. steps out of the bathroom in a clean pair of boxer briefs, the scent of their shower swirling around him. He’s gathered up their soiled clothes from the bathroom floor and Carlos watches as he sorts them out according to their laundry system. It’s this small act of love that causes tears to well and begin falling silently all over again. He’s married someone so good, so tender hearted. A man who takes the time to care for the pieces that Carlos can’t right now.

“I love you,” Carlos says, the words somewhere between a croak and whisper. He wishes for all the world that there were better words. Love is not strong enough for the feeling that lives inside him because T.K. Strand is his.

T.K. closes up the hamper and comes to him, his hands cupping Carlos’ face and wiping the tears away. “I love you too.” He looks into Carlos’ eyes, searching for something, though Carlos doesn’t know what. “Do you want tea?”

Carlos shakes his head and tilts his chin up. T.K. understands his wordless request and meets him, their lips coming together in a brief kiss. “Let’s go to bed,” T.K. says softly, brushing his thumb over Carlos’ cheek one more time before leaving him to slide beneath the covers on his own side of the bed.

Carlos joins him in the middle of the mattress, hands reaching to pull T.K.’s body into his. He’s desperate to close his eyes and succumb to the oblivion of sleep, but his husband deserves something more. Something better.

He kisses T.K. once, then again, trying to say without words what he’s feeling, like maybe if T.K. can feel it too he’ll be able to help Carlos make some sense of the tangled emotions knotting themselves around his heart.

T.K. kisses him back, his hand coming up to rest on Carlos’ side, unusually still, just his thumb moving back and forth in a soothing motion. Carlos takes a breath and pulls him closer, deepening the kiss, the warmth of T.K.’s mouth a familiar comfort against his own.

He finds the waistband of T.K.’s briefs and begins to slide them down his hip, but T.K. covers Carlos’ hand with his own breaking their kiss. “Baby no, not tonight,” he says quietly.

Carlos feels like he’s grasping at straws. There’s a script for how a wedding day is supposed to go, and T.K. has been nothing but gracious as they’ve improvised the whole thing instead. But there are expectations about how the night is supposed to end and Carlos can’t stand the thought of T.K. being disappointed if it doesn’t. “But it’s our wedding night. It should be special. You deserve to feel special.”

His voice breaks as he says it, the words coming out almost like a whimper.

“Oh Carlos. You are in the midst of unspeakable grief and you chose me anyway. That is,” T.K. swallows hard, his eyes growing bright with tears, “that is more than I could ever have asked for. I don’t need your body to make me feel special tonight.”

Carlos inhales a shaky, uncertain breath. “Are you sure?”

“You’re exhausted and grieving. This isn’t the moment. It will be. But not tonight. Tonight we both need to rest.” He gives Carlos a watery smile. “I’m not exactly in the right headspace either.”

Carlos’ heart squeezes in his chest. He’s spent the last few hours so overwhelmed with his own pain that he hasn’t thought of T.K.’s. “Your mom?” he asks.

T.K. nods, his mouth twisting a little, like he’s trying not to cry. “I miss her.”

“I miss her too,” Carlos tells him. “I wish she could see you. She’d be so proud.”

“I thinks she can,” T.K. says. “I hope she knows that I chose right. That you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I hope she knows how incredibly happy you make me.”

Carlos absorbs his words and feels them touch on a something he’s been feeling for the last week but hasn’t quite had the words for. “I’m sorry,” he says.

T.K. furrows his brow and brushes a hand through Carlos’ damp curls. “For what?”

“When your mom died, I thought…I thought I understood. I thought I knew how deep your pain was and that I could be a part of fixing it for you. I didn’t know,” he swallows down a sob that gets stuck in his chest where it aches and aches, “I didn’t know that it’s unfixable. I didn’t know how deeply losing someone breaks you. I wasn’t enough for you then. I didn’t do the right things or say the right things and I—“

“Carlos, Carlos stop,” T.K. soothes. “You were enough. You were everything I needed, even though you couldn’t understand.” He bites his lip, his soft gaze full of compassion and sorrow. “And I’m sorry that you do now.”

“It’s too much,” he says, his voice cracking. “I don’t know—god everything hurts. I don’t know how I can hurt so badly and feel so much love for you at the same time.”

“It’s okay,” T.K. tells him. “Don’t try to figure it out. It will ease.”

“It doesn’t feel like it will,” Carlos tells him, giving voice to the fear that’s eating inside him. He doesn’t want to be like this forever and he’s terrified that he’s just forced T.K. into marriage with a grief stricken monster.

“It will,” T.K. says. “You can trust me, it will.” He kisses Carlos’ knuckles. “Turn over. Let me rub your back.”

He’s too tired and sad to protest, so he does as his husband asks. T.K. moves his fingers slowly up and down Carlos’ spine. Carlos turns his head so he can see him, focusing on the feel of T.K.’s fingers against his skin and his eyes immediately begin to slide shut. “I love you,” T.K. tells him again and again and again, the only weapon he has to wield against Carlos’ exhausted grief. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Carlos says, his words slurring with sleep. “I love you.”

When Carlos wakes in the morning he feels rested for the first time in days. His head aches, his eyes feel gritty, and his face is stinging and raw from the salt of last night’s tears, but he doesn’t have that spinning, dizziness that comes with lack of sleep or the immediate feeling his gut that something is wrong. He remembers within seconds, he always does, that his father is gone. But it’s immediately followed by a second, much more welcome thought; he has a husband.

He shifts a little and reaches out blindly, his hand landing on T.K.’s thigh. When he manages to blink his eyes open he finds T.K. sitting up against the headboard, smiling fondly down at him. “Good morning husband,” he says softly, brushing his fingers through Carlos’ curls.

“Good morning,” Carlos says, smiling back. He rolls onto his back and captures T.K.’s hand, staring at the gold band encircling his finger. “You’re happy?” he asks, looking up to meet T.K.’s eyes.

“So happy,” T.K. assures him. “So, blissfully happy.”

“Me too,” Carlos says. He shifts a little, brow furrowing when he sees what’s in T.K.’s lap. “Are you reading my book?”

“I am,” T.K. says.

Carlos furrows his brow. “You don’t read. And you definitely don’t read my smutty romance novels.”

“That’s true. But you’ve been asleep for a long time and I needed a way to entertain myself because you seemed very reluctant to let me go last night. I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

It’s crazy how T.K.’s words can light him up from the inside out. The level of care T.K. lavishes on him is unparalleled. “Thank you,” Carlos says softly. “What time is it?”

T.K. glances at the clock. “A little after eleven.”

“Eleven!” Carlos startles. “I slept for twelve hours?!”

“It’s good babe. You’ve barely gotten any sleep this week. You needed the rest.”

Carlos is still shocked. “How long have you been awake?”

“Since like eight.”

“You sat here with me for three hours?”

“I did get up and go to the bathroom,” T.K. admits. “But I was very quick. I wanted to get back and find out why Alex hates Henry so much.”

Carlos snorts. “He doesn’t hate him.”

“Oh I got that,” T.K. says. “The blatant horniness practically leaps off the page.”

“Don’t make fun of my book.”

“I’m not! I’m not!” T.K. chuckles. “It’s sweet the way they want each other.”

“That’s why I picked it,” Carlos says. “It felt like it might be fun to read before our wedding. Two young men falling desperately in love.”

“Just like us,” T.K. says, locking their fingers together. “I am desperately, desperately in love with you Carlos Reyes. Always have been. Always will be.”

“Soulmates,” Carlos says softly.

T.K. nods. “Soulmates.”

He pushes himself up so they can kiss, long and sweet. When he pulls back he grimaces. “Sorry. Morning breath. I didn’t brush my teeth last night.”

“Yeah I knew you were out of it because you skipped that and the seven step skincare routine,” T.K. teases lightly.

“Is this what marriage is going to be? You making fun of my books and my self care routine?”

“Absolutely,” T.K. says immediately. “It was a footnote in my vows. I vow to take care and nurture you heart for the rest of my life and also mock you mercilessly as is my right as your husband.”

“Damn,” Carlos snaps his fingers. “I knew I should have read the fine print.”

“Too late. You’re stuck with me,” T.K. says.

“Stuck with someone who puts off our hotel reservation and stays with me in bed all morning. Not a bad way to be stuck,” Carlos says, partly to T.K. and partly to himself.

“How do you feel this morning?” T.K. asks.

Carlos considers this. “Better,” he says. “Lighter.”

“We don’t have to go to the hotel,” T.K. tells him. “We don’t even have to go on our honeymoon if you’re not feeling up to it. We can cancel the whole thing and just stay here.”

It feels overwhelming to try and make that decision. He feels okay now, in control of the grief instead of letting it consume him the way it had last night. But his hold on it feels tentative and he’s not sure what tomorrow or even the next few hours will bring.

T.K. seems to sense this. “One thing at a time,” he says. “Do you want to go to the hotel?”

“Yes.” Carlos is a little surprised by how quickly the answer comes, but the thought of spending time with T.K. in such an incredible space feels safe enough. They’ll be close to home, they can always come back if he falls apart. “Yes I want to.”

T.K. beams at him. “Me too. Let’s go.”

Their bags are still packed and in the car, they hadn’t planned on coming back home after the wedding at all, so they’re ready to go in a matter of hours.

Carlos drives this time, T.K.’s hand tucked into his most of the way. He keeps rubbing his fingers over the cool metal of T.K.’s wedding band. In so many ways it feels like they’ve been married since the day T.K. came home to the loft, but having this tangible, visible reminder of their love feels so incredibly special.

They pull up to the valet and Carlos brings T.K.’s hand up to his lips, kissing his knuckles. “All right, save it for the jacuzzi,” T.K. teases, making him smile.

The joy he’d felt yesterday during the ceremony and the beginning of the reception feels like it’s rekindling in his chest. He’s married. For real this time. To a man who holds his heart and his body with care and love. It’s more than he ever could have dreamed of.

They check in and are immediately swept into five diamond luxury. Their bags are whisked away and they’re given fresh, fruit flavored water before being ushered upstairs by their personal butler Victor. It feels slightly ridiculous, they’re a paramedic and a police officer, not the Kardashians, and he catches T.K.’s eye more than once in the elevator, his husband looking like he’s about to burst into laughter at the poshness of it all. This absolutely feels like something Owen Strand would enjoy and is far too rich for the two of them.

“Mr. and Mr. Strand-Reyes,” Victor says as they reach the penthouse floor and Carlos bites back a laugh because of course Owen made sure the reservation went his way on the hyphenation, “welcome to your suite.”

The door slides open and they walk into a room so big the loft could fit in it three times over. There are floor to ceiling windows that highlight the downtown world of Austin, along with a king size bed covered in rose petals, a freaking chandelier hanging from the ceiling, a bottle of sparkling cider on ice, and a tray of handcrafted pastry treats. They can’t see the bathroom from where they’re standing, but Carlos has a feeling it’s equally as grand as the rest of the room.

Victor explains the call button to them and gives them a tour of the space (the bathroom is indeed huge and Carlos feels T.K. squeeze his hand when Vincenzo shows them how to work the jacuzzi), while a second hotel employee delivers their bags and begins to unpack for them.

It’s everything last night should have been and Carlos resolves to make up for ending their wedding night in tears. Tonight? Tonight things are going to be perfect.

“Well, your dad really outdid himself,” Carlos says when Victor takes his leave. “If Owen Strand was a hotel room, this is what he’d be.”

“My dad does enjoy going overboard,” T.K. says, hopping up onto the bed and bouncing a little. “How much do you think it’s going to cost if we break that chair over there?”

“More money than we’ll ever make in our lifetime,” Carlos says.

“That’s what I thought.” T.K. flops all the way down onto the comforter, rose petals fluttering around him. “Oh my god this bed is amazing. Babe, come here.”

He wiggles a hand and Carlos huffs a fond chuckle as he walks over to join him. They lie flat on their backs staring up at the crystals of the chandelier, sparkling with tiny rainbows as they catch the light of the late afternoon Austin sunlight. “We’re married,” T.K. says softly. He turns his head and looks at Carlos. “You kissed me in a honky tonk bathroom and then you married me.”

That night seems like a million years ago and yet Carlos can still feel every second of it in his bones. The instant he’d looked into those green eyes he should have known this was where they’d end up. It was inevitable. “This is a little nicer than that bathroom,” he says, his eyes dropping to T.K.’s lips.

“It is,” T.K. agrees, leaning closer, that half lidded, wanting look on his face.

The kiss is soft, the perfume of the rose petals filling the air as they’re crushed beneath their bodies. Carlos doesn’t wait long before rolling so that he’s hovering over T.K. There’s an urgency thrumming through his veins, but he refuses to give into it. He doesn’t want to rush this moment. He wants it to be like that first night, so bright and sharp that it writes itself on his very soul so he can relive it over and over again in the years to come.

“Let’s get this off,” Carlos murmurs, sitting back so that T.K. can push himself upward. They work together to remove his shirt and then he lays back down again while Carlos makes quick work of his sneakers and then undoes the button on his pants, slowly sliding them down his legs.

T.K. puts his hands behind his head, his eyes following Carlos’ every move. “Yours too,” he says when Carlos goes to rejoin him, still fully clothed.

Carlos shakes his head. “Let me take care of you first.”

But T.K. sits up again, his hands coming to rest on Carlos’ hips. “If you’re taking care of me, then you should give me what I want,” he says, tilting his head to the side and looking up at Carlos from underneath his lashes. When Carlos doesn’t move T.K. lifts the hem of his shirt with one hand and presses a kiss into the softness below his navel, causing the muscles in Carlos’ stomach to clench with want. He drops one hand into T.K.’s hair, tightening it when T.K.’s teeth scrape gently across his skin. “Okay,” he breathes. “You win.”

T.K. smirks up at him. “I usually do.”

Bastard. He always does.

Carlos pulls off his shirt and throws it somewhere to be found later and then lets his pants join it. “Better,” T.K. says as he reclines once more, his eyes going dark as he drinks in the miles of bare skin Carlos has exposed.

Carlos presses his knees into the mattress, straddling T.K.’s hips. He gazes down, memorizing the sight of him with a halo of rose petals scattered around his head. T.K.’s lips are already pink from their kisses, his cheeks flushed with desire even though they’ve barely started. He’s so achingly gorgeous that it takes Carlos’ breath away.

T.K. reaches up to cradle his face. “You’re my husband,” he says. “We take care of each other.”

Husband. Carlos lowers his head and kisses T.K. once, then again. He breathes the word into his mouth, marks it into his skin with his teeth, paints it with his tongue into the lines of his stomach and hips until not a single part of him is unclaimed. Nothing about them has changed physically, but those two syllables make everything feel different. His mind knows and he ensures T.K.’s body does too.

It’s soft and slow, the minutes melting into hours as they take their time finding their way through this new level of intimacy.

In between, when they’re catching their breath, they drink the sparkling cider and feed each other pastries in a tangle of bedsheets before falling back into each other’s arms again. By the time the sky turns pink with dusk Carlos feels boneless with pleasure. He never wants to leave this bed. He never wants to be separated from T.K. again.

“I’m hungry,” T.K. says from where his head is pillowed on Carlos’ chest. He’s stroking his fingers slowly up and down in the space between Carlos’ hip and his ribs. “Let’s order room service.”

Carlos’ stomach rumbles in agreement, putting an end to his plans to stay in this bed forever. “Good idea,” he says, pressing a kiss to T.K.’s hair. “Go ahead and grab the menu.”

T.K. props himself up so he can look at Carlos. “Oh I have to be the one to leave the bed?”

“Well you’re on top right now,” Carlos reminds him. “And you did say you wanted to take care of me.”

“I believe I said we take care of each other,” T.K. reminds him, poking a finger into his stomach.

“Well if you get up I promise I will take care of you any way you want when you get back,” Carlos says with a grin.

T.K. huffs but rolls off the bed, walking across the room without bothering to put any clothes on. Carlos sits up against the pillows, watching as his husband walks across the room and grabs the menu off the table. He smirks when he turns around and catches Carlos staring. “Like what you see?”

“Always,” Carlos says.

T.K. plops back onto the bed, turning the menu over and reading through it. “How do we feel about duck confit tacos? Or strawberry goat cheese crostini?” He looks up at Carlos. “Let’s get both. It is on my dad after all.”

“Whatever you want,” Carlos says and means it. God he would do anything for this man, his heart is so full he feels like he could burst.

T.K. orders half the menu in the end and insists on a glass of wine for Carlos even though he says he doesn’t need it. “We’re celebrating,” T.K. says firmly. “You should drink the fancy wine.”

“Okay,” Carlos agrees. “If it will make you happy I will drink the wine.”

“Good,” T.K. says. He sits back and looks at Carlos. “How are you feeling?”

Carlos’ heart twinges and he tries to push it away. He doesn’t want anything to poke at their little bubble of happiness. “I’m fine,” he says, smiling and settling back beneath the sheets. “I’m happy T.K. Really. I’m not…last night won’t happen again.”

“It would be okay,” T.K. says softly, “if it did.”

Carlos swallows hard. “I don’t want to feel like that anymore.”

“I know,” T.K. says, his face compassionate. He squeezes Carlos’ knee through the sheets. “I wish I could tell you that you won’t. That the worst of it is over.”

“I know you can’t,” Carlos says. “I know it’s…I know it’s going to take time.”

T.K. nods and then leans over and reaches into his suitcase. “I got you something.”

Carlos holds out his hand and T.K. drops a silver chain into it. It coils in his palm and Carlos looks up at him questioningly. “When I’m on shift,” T.K. says, “I’m going to wear my ring on the chain with my medallion. I thought you might want a way to keep our ring and your dad’s ring close too.”

Carlos looks down to where both rings rest on his fingers, one of them a blessing, the other a reminder of his loss. Tears clog his throat at the thoughtfulness of his husband. “Thank you,” he says. “God, I love you so much, you know that?”

Instead of answering T.K. leans forward and kisses him. “I know,” he murmurs against Carlos’ lips. “Always and forever I know.”

The warmth and weight of their bodies pressing together makes Carlos thrum with want all over again and he pulls back reluctantly. “We should wait,” he says. “Victor will be here soon and we don’t want to give him a show.”

“Are you sure?” T.K. asks, ever the bad influence in their relationship.

“Later,” Carlos says, giving him another firm peck on the lips to finish it.

“Fine,” T.K. says with a roll of his eyes as he slides off the bed. “I have to go to the bathroom. Don’t do anything fun without me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Carlos says as he disappears behind the bathroom door.

His phone chirps and he picks it up, his heart immediately squeezing with a lightning flash of pain. It’s a reminder about their flights tomorrow. They’re supposed to be on a two fifteen flight to Mexico. And they still haven’t decided if they’re going.

A second reminder pings onto the screen about their hotel reservation. He taps it and watches as it opens up to the hotel’s home page. His eyes drink in the sight of blue water, white sand, gorgeous pools, and stunning sunsets. It’s beautiful. The stuff honeymoon dreams are made of.

He hears the toilet flush and the water run in the sink before T.K. reappears, now dressed in a massively fluffy white robe with the hotel’s logo embroidered over his heart. “I’m never taking this off,” T.K. says, holding out his arms so Carlos can get the full effect. “This is the softest thing I’ve ever put on. I feel like a WASPy woman from New England.”

He catches sight of Carlos’ face and cocks his head. “You okay?”

“Will you be disappointed if we don’t go to Mexico?”

“No,” he says immediately. “We can do it another time. Or never. It doesn’t matter to me. All that I care about is you feeling safe. If that means staying home then that’s what we’ll do.”

“T.K. the entire last week has been about me and what I need,” Carlos says softly. “What do you need? What do you want?”

“I want to do what’s best for you.”

“T.K.”

T.K. shakes his head and sits down on the edge of the bed. “Sorry babe. It’s all about you this time.” He flashes a smile. “Don’t worry, it will be all about me again someday.”

Carlos snorts. “I’m sure it will.”

“But for now you have to make the call. And if you can’t, then I’ll just tell you, we’re not going. I’m not taking you out of the country when you’re uncertain about it. If you barely made it through a vacation with your family out of state, we’re definitely not going somewhere that requires a passport to get back.”

Carlos’ heart tears a little bit. Hearing T.K. talk about them not going hurts. They’ve both used up so much vacation time, there’s no chance they’ll be able to go again in the next calendar year. “I think we should go,” he says, testing the words out to see how they feel.

T.K. looks at him intently. “Are you sure?”

Carlos glances down at the pictures again. “So much about the last few months has been us trying to scramble and fix things. We had to rush to plan the wedding and then we barely made it to the altar at all. This is one thing we can do that fits the script of getting married. I think it might feel good to do something normal. We need a break. We need time and space. I think,” he swallows, “I think that’s what my dad would want for us.”

“I think so too,” T.K. says.

It feels right. “Then we’re going.”

T.K.’s face breaks into that sunshine filled, elated grin that took Carlos’ breath away on that honky tonk dance floor three years ago. “Baby! We’re going to Mexico!”

He launches himself at Carlos, tackling him into the mattress and kissing whatever part of him is closest to his mouth. Carlos laughs and pushes him off. “Stop! Victor’s going to be here any minute.” He looks around and winces. “Maybe we should clean up a little.”

The room looks like they’ve been having a sex marathon. Their clothes are everywhere, the sheets and duvet are practically on the floor, and somehow they’ve knocked over the fake potted plant in the corner.

T.K. rolls his eyes. “I’m pretty sure Victor knows what people get up to in here. It’s fine.”

Carlos starts to get up. “I’m just going to move—“

T.K. grabs his hand and forces him to stay. “Do not get out of this bed. We only have so many hours left and we are not wasting time cleaning up.”

Carlos gives him a look. “Fine then. What do you want to do while we wait that doesn’t involve sex or cleaning?”

T.K. flops onto his side of the bed. “Read me some more of your smutty book.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes seriously. I want to know what happens on New Year’s Eve.”

Carlos laughs as he reaches down beside the bed and retrieves the book from his bag. “I’ll make a romance reader out of you yet,” he says as T.K. snuggles into his side.

“One book,” T.K. says. “I’m not committing to liking an entire genre. Don’t invite me to your book club.”

“That’s how it starts. One book and then another and then another…”

“Not happening babe.”

Carlos smiles fondly. “Good thing I have the rest of our lives to try and convince you.”

#Crowd Me With Love #Tarlos #Post Wedding Fic #Husband Era #Tarlos Husbands #Tarlos Wedding #911 Lone Star #911lsfic #911 Lone Star Fic #Tarlos Fic

36 notes · View notes

cinnamaow · 10 months

Text

☆ team chris is really, really, really, really hot incorrect quotes ☆

——————————————————

tyler: I’ve done a lot of dumb stuff. noah: I witnessed the dumb stuff. owen: I recorded the dumb stuff. izzy: I joined in on the dumb stuff. alejandro: I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF!!!

noah: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything?  owen: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies  tyler: Socks are Feetie Heaties  izzy: Forks are Stabby Grabbies  owen: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties  tyler: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies  izzy: Stamps are Lickie Stickies  alejandro, annoyed: You are disappointments

alejandro: Anyone d-  noah: Depressed?  izzy: Drained?  owen: Dumb?  tyler: Disliked?  alejandro: -done with their work... what is wrong with you people ...

izzy: We’ve been conducting an ongoing study to see what owen will and will not eat. noah: Grass? Yes! izzy: Moss? Yes!! noah: Leaves? Ohh, yes! izzy: Shoelaces? Strange but true! noah: Worms? Sometimes! izzy: Rocks? Usually nah. noah: Twigs? Usually! izzy: tyler's cooking? Inconclusive! alejandro: How did you… test this? izzy: You just hand them stuff and say ‘eat this’ and if they eat it, they eat it. alejandro: ... I don’t know how to feel about this. tyler: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SPARE SHOELACES WENT?

tyler: The floor is lava!  izzy: *helps duncan onto the counter*  alejandro: *kicks owen off the sofa*  noah: *lays on the floor*  tyler: ...Are you okay?  noah: No.

izzy: So, did everyone learn their lesson?

noah: No.

owen: I did not.

tyler: I may have actually forgotten one.

duncan : Also no.

izzy: Oh good, neither did I.

alejandro: *Exhausted sigh*

owen: Just be yourself! alejandro: Really? owen, I have one day to win over tyler’s parents.  alejandro: How long did it take for you guys to like me?  duncan: Couple of weeks.  izzy: Six months.  noah: Jury’s still out.  alejandro: See owen? ‘Just be yourself,’ what kind of garbage advice is that?!

alejandro: Are you trying to give me a fucking aneurysm?  izzy: Pretty sure we all are.  owen: I wasn't.  noah: I was.  duncan: I was trying to stop them, for your consideration.  tyler: I just cause aneurysms naturally.

alejandro: Bye tyler! Bye noah! Bye owen! Bye duncan! Bye tyler!  noah: You said ‘bye tyler’ twice.  alejandro: I like tyler.

alejandro: noah, can you help me? All of my clothes keep disappearing for some reason.

noah, wearing a hoodie that’s way too big for him: Spooky.

izzy: oooh bisexual lighting!

duncan: nope! that is the cops! :)

duncan: That's greatly offensive to my people.  noah: College dropouts?

alejandro: We have fun, don’t we, owen?  owen: I have never been more stressed out in my entire life.

alejandro: Are we really going to let noah keep owen?  izzy: We kept tyler.

tyler: Is the pink panther a lion?  noah: Say that again but slower.  tyler: I don’t get it.  noah: He’s a PANTHER.  tyler: Is that a type of lion?  noah: No, it’s a fucking panther.  tyler: *googles panther* They aren’t pink?  noah: AND LIONS ARE?!

owen: I’m so excited!  izzy: We’re gonna have the best costumes, get the most candy...  owen: And have the biggest stomach aches ever!  izzy: Yeah!

owen: Isn’t it a bit dangerous?  izzy: owen, please. We’ve in a lot of unexpected predicaments before and we always escape unhurt.  owen: ...  izzy: Okay, we sometimes escape unhurt.  owen: ...  izzy: Alright, we escaped unhurt once... Then we hurt ourselves on the way home.

noah: Wow, this parking is as straight as I am.  alejandro : I know I should be focused on the fact that you just came out, but HOW DARE YOU INSULT MY PARKING!

noah: If I had a face like yours, I'd put it on a wall and throw a brick at it.

alejandro : If I had a face like YOURS, I'd put it on a brick and throw a wall at it.

owen: Hey, noah? I need advice.  noah: I’m pretty useless at giving advice. Can I interest you in a sarcastic comment instead?

alejandro : What are you eating?  noah: You wouldn't like it, it's really salty.  alejandro: I like you, don't I?

alejandro : Ew. What kind of tea is this?  duncan: I boiled gatorade.

noah: WHOEVER CAUSED THIS MESS IS GOING TO-

owen: It was me...  noah: ...Is going to be forgiven because everyone deserves a second chance.

izzy: I’ve only had owen for a day and a half but if anything happened to them I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.

noah: I have to say, I'm a little embarrassed for you.  tyler: This is a sports-related injury. It makes me look cool!  noah: Tripping over a basketball on your way to the bathroom is not cool.

duncan: I typed "bitch" into my GPS and guess what? I'm in your driveway.  noah:  duncan: Vroom vroom, come out already.

izzy, to noah: When was the last time you let someone hug you?  noah: *thinking*  noah: 2012.  duncan : 2012…?  noah: Yeah. I almost died and it really freaked owen out so I let him hug me.

#i was bored #and feeling silly #i honest love tcirrrrh…#they r the silliest ever :)#total drama #td alejandro #td noah #td owen #td izzy #td tyler #td duncan #team chris is really really really really hot #incorrect total drama quotes #incorrect quotes

97 notes · View notes

chaifootsteps · 4 months

Note

Hi, hi! I've been a longtime follower of your blog, but this is my first time sending in an ask because of anxiety. You're the most consistent blog that keeps up to date with Viv and her work. As someone who first saw Viv through the Die Young animation, and watched the HH pilot when it was first released, I grew disillusioned as s1 of Helluva Boss slowly aired. It was mostly because I didn't really enjoy the Stolitz ship and I believe the Erin Frost drama had come out (god bless Erin - she, Ken and everyone else deserved so much better). Plus the world-building and character development was just so off.

I know people have said this before: the concept Viv has is good, but the execution sucks. There's a vision but the product is so damn juvenile. I'm ace, and I became attached to Alastor due to him being ace as well, but we all know how Viv responded when the ship wars were happening. I couldn't stand the constant sex jokes or swearing in HB since when was it required for an "adult" show to have that?

Thank you for the episode leaks. Only got to see ep 1 before they were removed. The only thing that made me laugh out loud was the Niffty gag where she stared dead into the camera. I also liked Adam a bit? Sure the "original dick" thing went on way too long, but he was funny too. I surprising enjoyed his song - the lil fist bump he did with Lute was cute, and I like Lute but knowing Viv's record... eh. There was this cool shot where Adam flew up and Lute and those golden angels go behind him and spread their wings making Adam look like the biblically accurate angel. Except Adam himself ruins the effect because what the ever-loving heck is he wearing? I hate it.

In terms of shipping, I wasn't into the Huskerdust interactions. Angel wasn't flirting, that was sexual harassment. In the pilot it was okay because their interaction was brief and Husk pushed Angel off. Chaggie was... something. I genuinely feel that Chaggie could've worked had they not been established as a couple in the first place. The reason why Charlastor (and I guess Charlentious?) happened is because they had chemistry and their interactions could be read as a romantic interest. Since Chaggie was already established, there was an expectation for them to have those, but they weren't delivered and we know well that they weren't supposed to be a thing in the first place. Have Vaggie still be her bff and bodyguard, but show those moments where she genuinely cares for Charlie's well-being that indicates she's in love with her, yet Charlie is completely oblivious to everything. Actually, reverse harem Charlie sounds pretty funny to me.

Btw, armchair psychology anon, as a person studying psychology in my final year of college, dw about people taking issues with your speculations. NPD and other personality disorders are ego-syntonic, which means that the individual's behaviours line up with their beliefs, hence why PDs are only diagnosed during adulthood once brain maturation and personality development is reached. The only exception to this is ASPD (which NPD shares a category with called Cluster B along with histrionic and BPD) as you can diagnose a child with conduct disorder that can become ASPD when they're adults. Cluster B PDs are terribly demonised by media and the public despite the volume of research (I blame misunderstanding and ignorance). Viv could have it or could not; it's just that she shows signs of having it, and that's it. Even if she doesn't, she's still an awful person. Idk what happened in her childhood or some point in her life for her to become like this, but it doesn't excuse treating people like crap - oh wait, ain't this her characters in a nutshell?

That's all I gotta say for now. I hope it's okay to send more like this in the future; I'd love to be a specific anon but idk what's already taken lol. Take care, Chai, and I hope you have a good day/evening.

By all means, send as many as you've got! Because this was a delight to read.

Let me know when you come up with a name. I'll give you a placeholder one for now.

#Anonymous #to be named anon #viv stuff #actual blog post #vivziepop critical

36 notes · View notes

sneakyparsnipslicer · 6 months

Text

A New Lease On Life

Have you ever felt like being yourself limits you in a way? Like being born to a particular family or culture limits your potential and often how the world views you?

My name is Dr. Kurpreet Singh. I'm 27, single and longing for a life other than my own.

It's a well-known fact that Indian culture gives little freedom to the children. Great expectations from parents, often using the success to flaunt in others' faces. Despite being a well-studied and successful man of medicine, I must be causing my mother and father a great deal of disappointment. They keep setting me up for arranged marriages, but I know it's all for their gain, and whilst I've been introduced to some absolutely beautiful women, they're not exactly what I'm looking for.

During my education, I was envious of the other boys, they could laze about, talk anything they'd like, date anyone they'd like. My life was pre-determined, focus on my studies, ace every test. I love my parents, but the life they forced upon me doesn't exactly offer the freedoms that many of my peers take for granted. It seems clear to me my life was mapped out in their eyes even from conception; create a child prodigy, marry him into a wealthy family, have some beautiful children, die securing a promising future for their grandchildren. A noble plan I guess, but what about what I want?

It took some persuasion, but I was able to move from my parents' home into my own flat. My mother of course always hit with the obvious comments. 'Why are you settling for a flat? You need a mortgage for raising your family!' 'A single bed? No, you need a big bed to share with the right lady when you find her!' 'I don't like this place, too small. Where is the family supposed to sit for Diwali?' 'This is not a nice neighbourhood. You don't know anyone on your street. What you need is a good community, please come back and live with us Kurpreet, you'll be happier!'

Honestly she's not been happy with my flat since Day 1, saying I need to change this and that, chastising me on finding the slightest speck of dust. At least she never stays. When I'm alone, that's when I truly feel free of the pressure and expectations I have had placed on me.

Now, in the time I've had in my flat, I've been able to enjoy all kinds of freedoms, particularly conducting my own research into arcane topics. It's crazy to think that some things we dream of can infact be reality, through the right methods of course. My researches led me to discovering the likes of body possession and bodysuits, methods to change a person's entire likeness! There were stories of people documenting their transformations from their old bodies into new ones and I wondered if I could do the same. Through a few contacts I was able to obtain a small glass container of powder.

To anyone it looked like some kind of seasoning, it really wouldn't have looked to out of place on a spice rack. According to my supplier, it was a powder that numbed the nerves and extracted the soul. More or less, anyone I sprinkled the powder on would become a bodysuit, and I'd also be able to undergo a transformation much like the stories I'd become enamoured by. I kept the container on me, you never know when I might find the right person to become the vessel I need. Of course I went about my usual life at the local clinic as the kindly Dr. Singh, but beneath the surface, an almost inhuman hunger was growing inside me.

It happened on one evening, as I drove home from the clinic, I parked my car in my usual spot in the carpark and made my way towards my flat's front door. Even as I locked my car door I could hear people talking from the direction of my door. Sounded like a bunch of rowdy men. I got my briefcase out of my car's boot, cautiously pocketing my glass container as a precaution. 'I'm just going into my flat' I told myself under my breath. Taking a deep breath I began to make my way to my door. The voices seemed to be sluggishly singing some chant. Maybe they were on their way back from a pub after a football match. I turned the corner and saw four men in tracksuits sitting on the steps leading up to my door, beer cans littered all over the floor. I stopped in my tracks looking slack-jawed at the sight.

'Oi, the fuck you looking at?' demanded one of them when he noticed me looking. The rest stopped singing and turned their attention on me. I cleared my throat. 'Pardon me, Gentlemen. Could I possibly get to my front door?' I asked politely. It took a moment then they started laughing. 'Did you boys get any of that?' asked the one closest to my door. 'Nah man, all I heard was 'Oh deary, deary me!'' said another one imitating an Indian accent. 'Welcome to my Kwik-E-Mart, please come again!' said the one that addressed me at first, and they all broke into outrageous laughter. I wasn't about to let a bunch of racists make me lose my cool. 'Look, you're in my doorway, haven't you all got somewhere better to be?' I demanded sternly, folding my arms. It was at that point the one who hadn't said a word yet stood up. He glared at me and began to walk menacingly over. He was a fair bit taller than I am, quite bulky too. I backed away a few steps, subtley reaching for my little glass container. 'Why don't you fuck off back to India, Curry-In-A-Hurry?' asked the man, staring me down. The other men started laughing again. I mustered up my courage, removing the cork behind my back. 'I was born here in England, my family's been living here two generations' I replied smartly, looking him in the eyes. The man lifted his head from my breathing space, seemingly impressed. 'Well look at that boys, guess he's one of us!' he shouted, turning to the others. I was stunned. 'What, really?' I asked curiously. 'Nah, fuck off!' he said, turning back and aiming a punch at me. I anticipated this and ducked to the side, spraying the contents of the container in his face. He coughed and shook his head, wiping the powder out of his eyes. 'You dirty little…little…' he slurred, gradually losing consciousness and slumping down on the ground. His friends looked on shocked. 'Terry?' asked one of them, getting up to get a better look. 'Guess your friend has had too much to drink' I said shrugging. 'Nah nah nah, you threw something on him!' cried another one, standing up and pointing accusingly at me. The first one approached Terry's body and shook his shoulder. Terry's whole body wobbled like jelly. 'Shit, you've killed him!' he said, looking at me. At this point I looked darkly into his eyes. 'You wanna take your chances with me or are you gonna go?' I asked calmly. The guy shook his head, inching along the wall. 'Fuck no! Let's get away from this Voodoo creep!' he yelled staggering off. The other two ran off after him, leaving me and Terry alone. I gave his body a little kick with my boot, then lifted his arm up, which flopped back down as I let go. 'Well then Terry, looks like your check-up's due!' I chuckled, unlocking my front door and hoisting him over my right shoulder.

Getting into my living room, I placed Terry on my sofa and placed my belongings on the counter to the side. Getting a better look at the man, he looked to be roughly the same age as me, short brown hair, clean-shaven. Dare I say kinda cute. I removed his clothes to get a better look at what was on offer, I was met with the sight of some nice biceps and muscles, a very nice chest and abs. I had no doubt this guy probably could have actually knocked me out if he'd had a decent shot. 'Nice body Terry! Shame about your awful mouth and problematic mind' I said tutting condescendingly. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and took a good, long look at myself. Slim built, soft black hair, a tidy goatee and the glasses I always wore. Not bad, but there was room for improvement. It occurred to me this might just be the last time I see my face like this, but I was ready to give it all up. Staring at myself I began to unbutton my shirt, revealing my flat chest and stomach, my skinny arms and slightly hairy chest. I began to smile, this was like a dream come true. I undid my belt, unlaced my boots, pulled off my trousers, socks and boxers and stood there fully nude. I looked at myself one last time and nodded, turning my attention to Terry. I pulled him off the sofa and placed him carefully on the rug. Nervously, I prised open his mouth, the stretching sound of elastic filling the room. My cock twitched and a grin spread across my face as I looked down into the darkness within his body. It was time.

I began by placing my right foot into his mouth, pushing down my foot and shin began to disappear past his lips. I thought it best to sit down for this, so I did just that. Placing my left foot inside, the rubbery squeaking continued as I pushed my legs down, Terry's mouth seemingly consuming my kneecaps and upper legs. Looking further down his body, I could see his own legs were swelling and darkening slightly, going from pale white a delightful tan. I could only imagine what the outcome was going to look like and my dick began to harden in delight. I began to move my thighs inside, I took care to push my erectifying penis into Terry's mouth too, seeing it further down stretching his length out and amazingly restoring my foreskin. I'd been circumcised as a child, so I'd never really known what it was like to have an uncut cock, but I guess that was going to be something for me to explore in good time. Hands on the floor, I began to slide my belly and chest into the mouth, seeing them firm up and darken Terry's body, I moved my arms inside too and they filled out his arms and hands too. I let my new hands explore my body, this was nice. Like REALLY nice. I stood up and walked over to the mirror, checking it out. Abs, ass, I had it all going on. I bit my lip and locked eyes with my reflection. My old face atop this new body looked back. I took off my glasses and put them on the counter, and through blurred vision I matched up Terry's lower jaw with my own and pulled his head over mine. I could feel my face contorting as I stood there for a moment, eyes shut, letting the transformation finish. I felt my face and hair, with one hesitant breath I opened my eyes. My new reflection looked back at me, clear as day. Terry must have had good eyesight, I could kiss those glasses goodbye. My black hair was still there, my goatee had survived the transformation too. I looked good, Terry and I had created one gorgeous guy. I gave my new cock a playful tug with my left hand and my new ass a squeeze with the right. I could finally leave my old life behind and enjoy any man I wanted, be anything I wanted. Ruffling up my hair and massaging my biceps I remembered, I had kept an outfit aside for this occasion. I hurried to my bedroom and flung open the doors, searching through my coat hangers I found it; a plaid shirt, skinny jeans with chains on them, a G-string to perk up everything on offer, and a leather harness, for later. I'd see about officially leaving the flat tomorrow, for tonight I'm hitting every gay bar in town and getting me some long-desired action. Dr. Kurpreet was gone, any remnants are getting fucked out tonight. From here on out, I am Hari, a cute guy in a big town with big dreams of being the most lustful male stripper around!

#transformation #bodysuit #gay

33 notes · View notes

rhaenella · 28 days

Text

You & Me - Rhys Montrose x Reader - Part 22

Part 21 | Masterlist

Summary: What happens when reader assassin is tasked with killing the possible future mayor of London; Rhys Montrose. Politician by day, Eat the Rich Killer by night. But he isn’t the only person wearing different masks.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Violence, murder, immoral sociopathic behaviour, mentions of alcoholism, drug abuse and neglect, smut

Word count: 4.7k

A/N: another Rhys pov! (to make up for the long hiatus lolol) Enjoy <3

Song: And so It Begins – Klergy

“The disappearance of Tom Lockwood, sir.”

Bloody hell.

Even in death, the bastard managed to find a way to disrupt Rhys’ life and well-crafted plans one way or another.

He felt a surge of adrenaline, but whereas most other people would succumb to the nerves, start sweating and rambling, make mistakes. Rhys didn’t. Instead, it only sharpened his focus, making him that much more dangerous.

The reporter had used the word disappearance, meaning Lockwood’s body hadn’t been found, meaning there was no physical evidence that could potentially link him to the crime, which ultimately meant that he was in the clear. At least for now. If he played it right, perhaps Rhys could even turn this little hiccup into a story that would reflect him positively in the press.

The mob of journalists and cameramen were waiting with baited breath for him to comment, silence befalling the crowd once more. The only sounds that could be heard were that of the bustling city around them—the honking of a double-decker bus, London’s never-ending construction noises, and the screeching of a police siren a mere two blocks away.

Rhys allowed a mixture of emotions to pass over his features. Initial shock—which hadn’t involved much acting—followed by a hint of grieving sadness, before he settled on a more calm, compassionate look. Because, like any good psychopath who studied the intricacies of human emotion, Rhys knew that that’s what the public needed to see in a leading figure. Someone who showed the appropriate level of feelings and compassion, but ultimately was able to offer reassurance and take action if need be.

“Mr. Lockwood…” Rhys shook his head, unfolding his clasped hands to convey a subliminal message of openness and sympathy. “I must say that I am deeply shocked by this news. Is there any more information regarding his disappearance?”

“News surfaced after an anonymous tip was made to The London Dispatch, a spokesperson for the T.R. Lockwood Corporation has just released a statement that they are and have been aware of the circumstances and are working on an internal investigation, the Met Police have also just reported they are launching their own investigation,” the same reporter summarised, reading off of his phone. “Any thoughts on what could have happened, Mr. Montrose?”

Any thoughts… Oh, he had plenty, alright.

An anonymous tip. To The London Dispatch. That could only be from one man: Jonathan.

Did he seriously have the balls to go to the press, knowing full well that Lockwood’s disappearance could be traced back to him? Rhys hadn’t thought he would raise the alarm after revealing that detail to him, but it seemed Jonathan was keen to call his bluff.

On the upside, Lockwood’s employees had tried to keep the whole thing under wraps, just like you and Rhys had predicted. But now that it had come out, the peace and quiet would come to an end, especially with the police’s involvement as well.

“I could not say at this time, I’m afraid,” Rhys stated, schooling his actual thoughts. “I think, as of now, the best course of action is to allow all parties involved to conduct their investigations without adding unnecessary speculation that could potentially hinder their job.”

That prompted an immediate response from the crowd.

“You don’t think Lockwood’s partners should’ve been upfront about their CEO going missing?”

“Lockwood was last spotted in Prague–”

“Hasn't his staff already been hindering the police?”

“–over two weeks ago, what are the chances that–”

“Considering these suspicious circumstances–”

“–could this be another murder?”

“I understand,” Rhys interrupted, raising his hands in an attempt to quiet the masses. “I understand the demand for answers. I do. But we have to let them do their jobs. The Met Police will get to the bottom of this and find Mr. Lockwood, I have every faith.”

Lukas stepped up to the press then, drawing their attention with a wave of his hand. “That will be all for today, everyone. Please, step aside to let Mr. Montrose pass.”

They did so begrudgingly, some ignoring his campaign manager as they kept shouting questions left and right. Rhys walked past them, thanking them for their time. His head of security met him halfway, guiding him the last couple of metres to the car.

“Where’s Y/N?” Rhys asked.

“She’s waiting in the car, sir,” Reggie answered.

“Mr. Montrose!”

“One final question, please!”

Rhys easily picked up on the thinly veiled exasperation in Lukas’ voice as he tried to reason with The Telegraph. “No can do, sir. Mr. Montrose is already late for his next commitment. If you have any follow-up questions, please feel free to send them to our office.”

But the seasoned reporter wouldn’t just let it go, following Rhys all the way to the kerb.

“Mr. Montrose! What about his family?”

Reggie had already opened the passenger door, but Rhys paused, turning back around. He had to give it to the guy, no politician in their right mind could ignore that type of question.

He wetted his lips, a mournful smile flickering across his face. “Ofcourse, I give my deepest sympathies to Mr. Lockwood’s family during these uncertain times. I hope he will soon return in good health, and be reunited with his loved ones.”

Rhys dipped his head, pouring all the sympathy he did not actually feel into a final smile before he slid into the back of the car, where he was greeted by you, sending him an amused but troubled look.

Reggie shut the door as Rhys leaned forward to speak to the driver. “Take us back to Primrose.”

“Yes, sir,” the driver nodded. “We might hit some traffic, though. There’s been an accident on Holborn and City Road.”

“That’s alright. Nothing we can do about it. Get us there as quickly as you’re able.”

“Straight away, sir.”

Rhys raised the soundproof, glass divider between the front and back of the car, giving you the privacy to talk about all that had just transpired without the driver being able to eavesdrop.

You turned to face each other as the car pulled into the stream of ongoing traffic.

“So. Deepest sympathies, huh?”

“Why yes, ofcourse, darling,” he grinned.

You snorted. “Liar.”

He was about to retort when his phone started ringing. Rhys checked the caller ID, and sighed. “Excuse me, this won’t take long,” he said, accepting the call.

“I don’t want to hear a word about Cynthia, Luke,” Rhys announced, wanting to move past his indisputable error in judgement quickly. “Go back to the office, coordinate from there. We need to get an official written statement out ASAP, one that is based on all the facts known at present.”

“Agreed, sir. I’ll fetch Brian to–”

“No. No, have Sam write it, she’ll need the experience. Just make sure to double check it before you post it online.”

“You don’t want to read it yourself? Are you not coming to the office?”

“No, I’ll meet you there later. There’s another pressing matter that requires my attention first. I trust you to handle the situation while I’m out.”

“Yes, Mr. Montrose.”

Rhys ended the call and pocketed his phone before resting his head against the headrest. What a day this was turning out to be. And it wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.

He must have involuntarily let out another sigh, for he felt the softness of your touch, your slender fingers wrapping around his hand.

“How is that patience of yours doing?”

“I won’t lie, it’s hanging by a thread.”

“Figures,” you smiled, squeezing his hand.

Your smile was quickly overshadowed by that same troubling look from before, one which you didn’t have to hide anymore.

“That anonymous tip… it must be–”

“Jonathan? Yes, I think so, too,” Rhys finished. “Unless you called The London Dispatch and failed to inform me of a new tactical move.”

You shook your head no as the car slowed to a stop, now officially stuck in the busy rerouted traffic. “Nope, it definitely wasn’t me,” you said, looking out the window to catch a glimpse of St. Paul’s looming presence.

It was a cloudy day, ten a penny for London, even during the summer time. The storm front may have passed, but the uncertainty of what was coming still lingered in the air.

“Whilst you were giving your statement to the press, I kept thinking, why?” You looked back to Rhys. “Why would Jonathan do this now? He knows that we put the account that was used to bribe the pilots in his name. That was supposed to keep him quiet, at least for a little while longer. So, what’s his angle?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, the same question dominating his thoughts. “Jonathan’s calculated. But also rash, and unpredictable, as today has clearly demonstrated… We need to act quickly before he goes from being a liability to a full-blown threat.”

You chewed your lip. “You know who else can become a threat?”

His eyes flickered between yours, trying to find an answer there as he mentally went down the long list of possible enemies he made along the way. The ones that were still able to draw breath, that is.

Only one name came to mind.

“Marcus Atkinson.”

The man who conspired with Lockwood to have Rhys removed from the upcoming elections, by categorically trying to erase him from the face of the earth.

“Atkinson,” you agreed. “So far, he’s been quiet, but there’s no telling what he’ll do now that the news of Lockwood’s disappearance has been made public.”

Rhys hummed, affirmative. “You’re right. We need to prepare for every possibility.”

“Is that why we’re going home?”

“No,” he said, a little reluctant.

You frowned, not following. “Then why did you tell the driver to take us back to Primrose Hill?”

He sighed. “Because you’re going home, whilst I go and pay dear old Jonathan a visit.”

You paused, slowly letting go of his hand as the meaning of his words landed.

“You’re what?”

“You heard me.”

Rhys set his jaw, his decision already made and final, but that didn’t stop you from glaring at him.

“And you’re sidelining me because…?”

He looked away, something flicking over his expression. “It’s the only way I know how to keep you safe.”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed. “What about me and what I do for a living gives you the impression that you need to keep me safe?”

Rhys winced. He’d anticipated this reaction from you. But there was no way in hell he would allow you and Jonathan in the same room ever again. It wasn’t that he didn’t think you could fend for yourself, because, as more than one occasion had attested, you certainly knew how to throw a punch or two. And make it hurt. He himself was privy to the knowledge.

However, he didn’t trust Jonathan and what he would do… Especially now. Besides, as far as Rhys could tell, Jonathan still didn’t know anything about your true identity. And he’d very much liked to keep it that way.

“He’s a psychopath, Y/N,” Rhys stressed.

“Right,” you drawled. “Do you want me to look up the exact definition? Because I’m pretty sure it would also include present company.”

He smiled, bitter. “I’m not planning on hurting you. Jonathan might. You know the things he was mixed up in across the pond. If he figures out how important you are to me…”

His forehead creased with genuine concern, and even in your anger, your eyes softened a little at the admission.

“I know you can take care of yourself,” he amended. “But that doesn’t take away from the fact that I want to keep you as far away from him as I possibly can.”

You nodded thoughtfully, still far from happy with his decision. But Rhys wasn’t going to change his mind, and you knew it as well.

Once again, the sound of a phone pinging interrupted your conversation. Privately, Rhys hoped it would put an end to it as well, although you quickly relieved him of that illusion. “We’re not done talking about this.”

“A man can hope,” he muttered.

You shot him a warning look as you retrieved your phone, effectively making him shut up.

He looked around, noticing they were still motionless. No. That wasn’t right. They had moved about three car lengths in the last five minutes. Progress, he thought, clocking his inner voice’s sarcasm with a wry smile. At least the extended travel time would give him a little more time to prepare for his surprise attack on Jonathan. Although, that twat was likely already waiting for Rhys to show up after the shit he pulled earlier today…

Rhys gritted his teeth as he thought of Jonathan. How he must have watched the press interview live on tele, probably thinking he’d won this game… Well, Rhys would make damn sure that his victory would be short lived.

A startled noise came from your side of the car, and his eyes shot back to you, jerking him from those thoughts.

Your wide eyes were scanning whatever message had appeared on your phone’s screen, four times over, as if making sure your eyes weren’t deceiving you. A wave of worry careened through him as he watched the colour drain from your face.

“Y/N?” he said, alarmed.

“Oh my god…”

Frantically tapping the screen, you brought the phone closer to your face. “Oh my god.”

Before Rhys even got a chance to ask what the hell was going on, you’d already pressed the device to your ear, fingers now tapping restlessly against the car’s interior door.

“Y/N,” he said, firmer this time, clasping your hand in his. You looked at him, panicked, uncertain… terrified. Rhys felt his own stomach drop. “What happened?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out.

The call went straight to voicemail, and you groaned in frustration. “Damnit, she’s not answering her phone.”

“Is it Zoe? Sadie?” Rhys tried, concern slipping into his voice.

He softly squeezed your hand to garner your attention. It worked. You refocused on him, visibly swallowing a tang of adrenaline before shoving your phone into his hands. Rhys read the ID: Zoe. He was right—there were only so many people that could pull this type of reaction from you. He could probably count them on one hand.

His eyes slid down to read the most recent incoming texts, and he sucked in a breath, immediately understanding your nervousness.

>>> mum’s back

>>> please come

Your mother…

Alarm bells went off inside of him, his concern slowly getting replaced by something sharper, harder.

You’d both known the day would come, yet the words on the screen still shocked him to silence, the only thing he could muster a feeble, “Fuck…”

“Yeah…”

Rhys closed his eyes. Another person who had completely disappeared—albeit not by your doing—resurfacing. It had been quite the mystery as to what had happened to her, and you had spent many a night trying to figure out where she could have possibly gone. Without much success. But now she had seemingly returned.

The timing could also not have been better. Apparently Murphy’s Law always lurked around the corner somewhere.

“Where did she come from all of a sudden?”

“From hell, likely.”

He huffed a strained laugh. That was certainly one possibility. Rhys met your gaze, then. The initial shock had lifted, and now the fire he’d grown to love glowed bright in your eyes.

“I’ll kill her,” you whispered, unyielding. “I swear to god, if she’s hurt them… I will kill her.”

You snatched your phone from his hands, your thumbs flying over the keyboard as you typed out a series of messages in quick succession.

“Hey,” Rhys said, pitching his voice into a soothing range. “They’re gonna be okay. Just like their big sister, they can fend for themselves.”

“I know they can,” you said, still holding your phone in an iron grip. “But after what happened last time, I can’t help but worry.”

He couldn’t stop himself. “I know the feeling...”

You dropped your phone, turning to him with a look that made it abundantly clear that now was not the time to test you.

“Rhys,” you warned.

“Sorry…” he muttered, squeezing your hand again. “How do you wanna tackle this?”

“I’m going over there.”

“Right now?”

“Yes. Right now. I have to make sure they’re okay. Besides, it’s not like I have anything better to do,” you shot back, eyes narrowing.

Rhys pursed his lips. Yep. He deserved that.

You looked outside to find that you were, still, stuck near St. Paul’s. And it didn’t look like that was going to change anytime soon. Sighing, you clasped the door handle, but before you could sprint out, Rhys tugged you back to him.

“Whoa, wait a second,” he said, worry seeping back into his voice. He didn’t want to part like this. “Are you sure you want to do this by yourself? I can help.”

You looked at him evenly. “This can’t wait. And neither can the Jonathan situation.”

Damnit.

No, it couldn’t.

“I’ll take care of my mother while you take care of our professor,” you offered, running your thumb over his hand in an attempt to persuade him. However the grim look on your face wasn’t helping.

He held your gaze for a long moment, equally grim, before nodding once. There was no other way.

“Be careful, and call me when you need me,” Rhys implored, already cursing himself for agreeing to this plan. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” you said, purposeful, determined.

And with that, you were off, shutting the car door with force.

Rhys watched you go, worry now mixing with guilt. By trying to protect you from one situation, he was now the sole reason you were diving head-first into unknown danger all by yourself.

Although, you would have gone either way. No matter the circumstances. You were just like him in that respect. Once you’d made up your mind, there was nothing anyone could do to dissuade you. Rhys had to let you go. Leaving you the space to deal with problems the way you saw fit. He didn’t like it, but if he wanted to keep you by his side, there was no other choice.

As far as he was aware, your mother wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. But even so, she’d come pretty close to manslaughter with the Hackney house fire. Rhys also knew for a fact that you hadn’t yet told him about all of the harrowing things you’d endured during your childhood. Some details, yes. But definitely not all. He hadn’t wanted to push you too hard, you would tell him when you were ready. Just like with everything else.

Rhys shook himself. Dwelling on this wasn’t going to do him much good either. He had his own headache to deal with. After that, he would work to make things right with you.

He pressed a button, lowering the glass divider. “Change of plans. I need you to take me to South Kensington.”

—

An hour later, after trudging through London’s busy traffic, the car parked in front of Kynance Mews. The driver hastened to open his door, and Rhys slid out, glancing left and right.

“Give me twenty minutes,” he said, adjusting his suit.

“Yes, sir.”

The ride over had given him plenty of time to consider his options, which in the end boiled down to two simple objectives: kill Jonathan, or not.

As tempting as the first option was, Rhys had to accept that it wasn’t the most prudent one. Now that Lockwood’s disappearance had become a public affair, and the police were conducting their own investigation, there would be a lot of heat bearing down on the case. Sooner or later, the police would find out about the bribe money, and once they’d successfully trace the money and start making connections, ‘Professor Jonathan Moore’ would be the subject of a lot of scrutiny.

Like with Atkinson, the risk would be too great. If either of those two were killed right now, people would surely start asking questions. Questions Rhys didn’t want to be asked.

Therefore, with a tinge of annoyance, he opted that the best course of action was to keep the professor alive a little longer.

However, Jonathan couldn’t continue on like this. He had to be reined in—reminded of who was in control here. Good thing Rhys had one more trick up his sleeve, and now was the time to use it.

He made his way inside the building, taking the stairs two at a time, determination edged in his pace. Once he made it to number ten, he lifted his fist, landing a series of powerful knocks on Jonathan’s front door. He didn’t have to wait long before it swung open.

Rhys bursted into the flat, the door nearly hitting Jonathan in the face.

“You’ve been busy, mate.”

Jonathan recovered quickly. “So have you.”

His dark eyes tracked Rhys as he strode around the flat, making sure there were no unwanted third parties present. Once he made sure there wasn’t, he stopped in front of Jonathan, meeting his gaze.

Rhys took a breath and nodded. “Tell me about it. It’s hard work, winning these elections—making sure all possible threats are dealt with accordingly.”

Jonathan looked him up and down, measured. “Is that why you’re here?”

“Among other things... I was starting to miss our fun little chats.”

“I wasn’t,” the professor sneered.

“Oh, pray tell,” Rhys said, light.

Jonathan appeared calm, but the tightness around his eyes told Rhys all he needed to know. A single, disdainful head-tilt cinched it.

So, this would be fun.

“You’re a cold-blooded psycho.”

His mouth twitched. “Ah, one that needs to be taken down? Is that why you tipped the press?”

“I’m done with your bullshit and your fucking mindgames,” he hissed. “And I’m not going down for your sins whilst you become mayor of this godforsaken town.”

“And yet here you are,” Rhys snickered, waving a hand at him. “Digging your own grave. Or did you forget that Joe Goldberg helped cover-up Lockwood’s murder?”

“I’ll tell them the truth about you,” Jonathan promised. “You’re not getting away with this.”

“And who do you think they’ll believe?” Rhys returned, tilting his head, a challenge. “A suspected murderer who faked his own death, or the man that’s working tirelessly to strengthen their police force—making sure their kids will have access to a higher education, someone who’s battling corruption and fighting for what’s right. You tell me.”

Jonathan shook his head. “No… No, you will go down for your crimes.”

Rhys couldn’t help but laugh. “And what crimes are those? Do you have any proof? Or will this be another case of your word against mine?” he taunted, stepping up to the fuming American.

Jonathan stood rigid, frowning in contemplation. He took a moment to mull over whatever thoughts held him before he looked at Rhys askance.

“There has to be proof. People always seem to mysteriously disappear or die around you. Like last night.”

Rhys remained entirely unfazed. “That Fernsby bloke, you mean? Well, if you’d listened to the news, you would know he died of natural causes. Very unfortunate but it happens,” he said, inscrutable, picking a piece of lint off of his suit. “Besides, I have an alibi.”

“Of course you do,” Jonathan mumbled, more to himself. “Your girlfriend?”

Anger simmered under Rhys’ cool facade at the mention. But he couldn’t let Jonathan see it.

“She serves many purposes,” he smirked, lewd.

Jonathan’s face twisted in disgust. “You’re using her.”

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “It’s all she’s good for anyway. A pretty face for the cameras, and an excellent shag at night.”

Jonathan looked away, uncomfortable despite his own nature. He took a beat, his eyes locked in an endless stare, seeing seemingly nothing. Then he blinked, once, and looked up to Rhys again.

Something in his eyes had changed. Like he’d made up his mind about something. Rhys couldn’t tell what it was, but it didn’t sit well with him, at all. That much was clear.

His smile faded, it was time to get down to business.

“Alright,” he exclaimed, delightfully startling Jonathan in the process. “Enough chit-chat. I think it’s about time I remind you of a few things…”

Jonathan stiffened, but didn’t respond. Rhys sauntered over to the window, the one providing a perfect view into the flat of one Miss Kate Galvin. The flat was dark, and it didn’t look like anyone was home.

“Do you know where she is?” Rhys asked, peering through the window.

He didn’t need to specify who he was referring to. Not to a seasoned stalker like him.

“At work,” Jonathan said, clipped.

Rhys glanced back over his shoulder, clocking Jonathan still standing in the exact same spot, shooting daggers at his back. Rhys’ lips curled.

“Remember this feeling, Jonathan,” he said as he zeroed in on the fireplace, bending to pick up the fire iron. “Remember how it feels to know where she is. To know she’s safe…”

He twisted the metal object leisurely, feeling the weight of it in his palms. “But above all, remember how I can take all of that away, in the blink of an eye.”

If possible, Jonathan stiffened even more, nails digging into his palms as he clenched his fists.

Rhys’ eyes sparked with amusement. Jonathan hadn’t wanted to play any more of his ‘mindgames’, but unfortunately for the professor, he was only just getting started.

“Now, we wouldn’t want her to meet the same fate as her father, would we?” Rhys mused, using the metal tool to prod at some charcoal remains. “Because speaking of unfortunate things, I’d say that would definitely qualify as such.”

Jonathan glared at him, not even attempting to cover the hatred he felt for the man daring to enter his home like he owned the place—and threaten him, his girlfriend, and everything he had tried to rebuild for himself.

“Stay away from her,” he said, voice as cold as ice.

“Come now, Jonathan. There’s no need to get snippy,” Rhys tutted, eyes flicking to him. “You and I both know that whatever happens to her, it’s entirely up to you.”

The sound of metal scraping against the fireplace's stone surface caught Jonathan’s attention, his eyes flying to where Rhys was still playing around with the rod. He relished the look on Jonathan’s face, a sweet mixture of trepidation and rage. It meant he was listening carefully.

“Fun fact about fire,” Rhys went on, off-kilter. “Which, correct me if I’m wrong, I believe you may be familiar with,” he added jokingly, stabbing at a larger fragment of unburned wood.

“Nothing ever truly vanishes. There’s always something that remains. And what’s so amusing about this fact is that you never know which pieces are left behind… or when they might resurface.”

This was it. The last card Rhys could play to keep Jonathan silent—short from killing him, ofcourse.

To threaten him to complete the framejob by planting Lockwood’s other hand that you and Rhys had kept as a backup, and call in the cavalry. Physical evidence tying Jonathan to the crime, in combination with the paper trail already set up in his name, would ensure Jonathan’s arrest and indictment. And he knew it.

Jonathan swallowed. “Lockwood?”

Rhys walked up to him, eyeing him steadily. “You better stick to our first agreement, and keep quiet,” he warned, tapping the fire iron against Jonathan’s chest. “Otherwise, I’ll make sure you’re going down for all of it.”

Defeat flashed over Jonathan’s face. He was still angry, no, livid would be the better term… But the growing apprehension and doubt was unmistakable.

Satisfied that his message was received loud and clear, Rhys dropped the metal rod to the floor. The loud clang of the object hitting the wooden floor caused Jonathan to flinch back, much to Rhys’ pleasure.

He turned his back on the American, gleefully making his way towards the front door where he paused, resting one hand on the handle, the corner of his mouth lifting.

“It’s all about who holds the power, mate,” Rhys smirked, looking back to Jonathan, whose jaw was clenched tight. “And at present, that isn’t you.”

––––

A/N: FINALLY a Joe and Rhys meet… I know it’s been a long time coming 🙈 I had a lot of fun writing this particular scene, I hope you enjoyed it as well. Now let’s see if Jonathan will heed Rhys’ warning or… not. hehe

––

Tags: @artaxerxesthegreat

#rhys montrose x reader #rhys montrose x female reader #rhys montrose fanfic #rhys montrose fic #rhys montrose #you netflix #you season 4 #you season 4 canon divergence #jonathan moore #joe goldberg #goldrose #ed speleers #rhys montrose x original female character #on ao3 #you and me

14 notes · View notes