#she is the only one who comes closer to what the khans made

[smittenwithsmoker]

she’s got oceans tucked away in her hair, poems swim under her skin -Sanober Khan

Sanji x fem mermaid!reader

The chef had many dreams. He would become the greatest chef in the world. He would find the All Blue and finally cook with ingredients from all four seas to create the most delicious dishes the world had ever known. He would travel around the Grand Line with his friends in pursuit of his dreams and theirs. But perhaps the dream he’d held even longer, a dream which graced him every night for as long as he could remember, was to meet a mermaid. In his sleep, an ethereal voice called out to him with a siren song, whispered his name in his ear so clearly that he awoke thinking she’d be right beside him. He could envision her silvery tail, the eyes as blue as the ocean she lived in, the long flowing hair that floated around her in the water entirely weightless. Despite having never met the woman in his dreams, Sanji was so entirely sure she was real and that she was calling out for him.

He met her in a storm. The Thousand Sunny was conquering waves that seemed impossibly large and navigating through the swells with ease. Sanji stood at the helm, following Nami’s directions until he saw a flash of silver in the water. At first, he thought it was a trick of the light, lightning reflecting oddly off the sea surface. However, Sanji knew at the second glance exactly what it was. So without a second thought, the chef yelled to his crew mates to take the helm and he dove off the side of the ship.

Sanji found her quickly, the silvery tail shimmering even in the murky, tumultuous waters. As he got closer, he heard his name being echoed through his head in a soft lilt, song like in its cadence. Her tail was caught in a net that had likely come undone from a fishing vessel in the storm and she was thrashing, trying to free herself but only becoming more tangled. She saw him approaching and he swore that when her eyes met his, that he knew her already. Her hands reached out to his and he clasped his larger ones around hers and held on as a current pushed against his body. Pulling himself closer to her, he reached for the small knife in his pocket and began to cut the net.

Once freed, her hands found his again. She looked at him, a soft smile on her face as one hand moved to caress his cheek. In his surprise, Sanji released the air from his chest and his lungs began to burn. A frown overtook her features and began to swim with him. A mermaid was the fastest creature in the ocean and within seconds, they were at the surface and approaching the Thousand Sunny.

Sanji gulped in breaths of air but did not let go of her hand as he made sure the woman of his dreams did not escape him. Her hand rested on his neck as she leaned in, first kissing both of his cheeks and then pressing her lips to his. As her lips moved with his, he could hear her voice in his head.

“You found me my love. My Sanji. My pirate. Thank you for saving me as I once saved you. I have to return to the sea but I shall find you again some day. Until then, we will meet in your dreams. I love you.”

Sanji stared at her as their lips parted and a wave crashed over the two of them. She held on so tight to him and his hands hurt from the biting cold of the water and how tightly he was grasping hers. Luffy reached down to him to pluck him from the water and his hands finally slipped from hers. She smiled up at him and blew him a final kiss before disappearing under the surface of the ocean, a swish of her silver tail the last thing he saw.

The crew thought he was hallucinating. They had seen no mermaid, only saw Sanji fall overboard and then surface before Luffy rescued him. It must’ve been a dream they told him. He almost believed them until he went to bed that evening. In his sleep, he heard the empyreal sound of her voice ringing through his head as she said his name before she appeared before him, silvery tail splashing as she made her way to where he sat on the beach.

“Who are you?” he asked the shimmering goddess before him. She smiled and reached out to clasp his hand.

“I am yours, Sanji Vinsmoke,” she retorted with a delicate smile. “I have been since I saved you when we were both children.” He remembered nearly drowning as a child and the months starving on that island with Zeff, but he doesn’t remember getting to that island. Had she saved him then? “Yes, that was me.” His eyes widened when she answered his thoughts and her hand moved to his cheek. “I know your every thought my love. I always will.” She pulled herself closer to him, resting her forehead against his. “Mermaids have only one mate in their lives and know them instantly. You are mine as I am yours.”

Sanji’s eyes widened again. Mates? He thought that was a myth but here was the woman of his dreams telling him it was true. She looked away from him and frowned as the horizon started to glow with the impending sunrise. Turning back to him, she pressed her lips to Sanji’s again and he melted against her, pulling her closer onto his lap. The apples of her cheeks flushed as she pulled away and tucked her face into Sanji’s neck. She nibbled there and he hissed as she bit into the flesh.

“I have to go,” she whispered and a sudden sadness had entered her tone. “I will always be near to you Sanji and if you need me, call out to me. In five years, I’ll be able to walk on land and I will never leave your side again. Wait for me my love.”

Sanji awoke with a start, breathing heavily and sweating in his bed. It was a dream. One that blurred the lines of fiction and reality and he had a difficult time understanding. Wandering to the bathroom to get ready to cook breakfast, Sanji gasped when he looked in the mirror. A small red mark in the shape of a mermaid’s tail had appeared on his neck in the same spot she had bit in his dream. A heavenly voice in his head whispering out, “Mine”, as Sanji realized his dreams might just all come true.

#Sanji x reader #sanji x fem reader #Sanji vinsmoke #mdni #this is so self indulgent #I just want to be a mermaid and be with sanji #is that so much to ask for? #one piece x reader #opla #opla sanji #Sanji vinsmoke x reader #one piece

[plentyoffandoms]

I want to see if you could do a Hook 4 part story where the Reader is William Regal daughter and she has knew Taz and his wife for years and hook is her best friend when her dad comes to Aew she comes with him and works backstage in the offices she is Tony's assistant and her and Hook get closer they help each other out, but one day Hook gets close to Paige VanZant and the Reader is upset but she doesn't say anything to Hook or even his dad or her dad, she doesn't hangout with Hook anymore she stays by herself, she doesn't leave her room the only time she gets out is for dinner with her dad Danielson and Moxley and Wheeler as a group or heading to work backstage, Wheeler doesn't like she is cutting everyone off because of Hook so he conference hook and puts him in his place and Hook goes to the reader and make it right between them, one thing leads to another and they get together as a couple.

Just a Friend to You

Hook x f/Reader

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Gifs & photos do not belong to me.

Warnings: swearing. Instead of 4 parts this will be one. Sorry

Word Count: 2352

Main Masterlist ♡ AEW Masterlist ♡ Hook Masterlist

Peter - Taz ☆ Tyler - Hook ☆ Paul - Wheeler Yuta

Summary: f/Reader is the daughter of William Regal & bestfriends with Hook. She ends up working for Tony Khan when her Dad joins AEW. She falls even more for Hook, but she thinks he doesn't like her like that & pushes everyone aside when she sees him with someone else.

YN'S POV:

Everything was going great at first. My Dad finally got to go back to the thing he loves the most, which is wrestling. He got to be surrounded by many of his friends and former colleagues, and I got to go along for the ride.

I started to accompany my Dad to the shows and the signings. I made sure my Dad was on time and organised and that caught the eye of the Tony Khan, one of the owners of AEW.

Tony asked me if I wanted to be his new assistant since his previous one got fired. After much consideration I took the job and I haven't looked back.

Tony is a good boss and he can be demanding but I have always loved a challenge.

The biggest challenge I face with being his assistant is that he leaves everything to the very last minute and then bombards me with a bunch of tasks, but I always get them done.

But in the mean time, I get to spend more time with my best friend, Tyler. I have known Tyler for years now as our Dad's both work in the wrestling business.

Growing up, it was hard to find friends who wanted to be just my friend and not just get close to me because of who my Dad is and Tyler understood that.

I remember calling him after going on a date with a guy when I was about 15 years old. The guy was nice and one of my friends hooked us up on a blind date.

He picked me up at my place and my Dad answered. I learned that evening was that my date was a massive fan of William Regal and I had to listen to him drone on and on about who he thought my Dad was.

The moment I got home, I called Tyler and he let me vent to him and would chime in here and there. Tyler would always tell me, "then he isn't worth your time. You will find someone YN." and that would instantly calm me down.

"Earth to YN?" Speaking of Tyler. I didn't notice that he is now standing infront of my desk.

"Oh shit, is it lunch time already?" I asked him as I looked at my watch.

"Yes, what has you so distracted?" He asked me.

"Just the finale details of the Pay-Per-View that I have to go over." Was the first lie that came to mind. I can't tell him I was thinking about him.

Not about how much I want us to be more than friends, but Tyler isn't one to settle down. He has told me before that he has no urge to be with just one person. That he enjoys being a free man and can sleep with whoever he wants too.

I knew from that moment on I could never let him know how I feel about him. I didn't want to ruin our friendship.

"Let's go. I'm starving." He isn't usually this pushy but I didn't question him as we started to walk.

He talked the whole way and I just listened. I could listen to him talk for days and never get tired of it.

He was talking and had a massive smile on his handsome face as he talked about what him and Dante did the other night.

As we were coming up to our destination, I saw that we were near a washroom. I told him to go on in without me and that I wouldn't be so long.

But Jade was in the washroom as well and as I was washing my hands, she started to ask me questions.

I answered every single one of them because it dealt with her wanting to know a bit more about what she needs to do in regards to get ready to defend her belt.

Once she was satisfied with all the answers, the two of us went our separate ways.

But as I stood at the entrance to the room, I noticed in the corner that Tyler was talking to Paige VanZant and the two of them looked awfully chummy.

I knew she was married but I also heard that her marriage has been sort of rocky lately.

I was about to walk towards the two of them to let Tyler know I was there, but then I saw him lean in to whisper something in her ear and she started to giggle and she slapped his chest in a teasing manner.

I didn't bother to stick around to see how this was going to go. I wasn't hungry anymore so I decided to just head back to the office and try and work. Maybe all the work I needed to still do would distract me enough.

But as I was leaving the room, I didn't notice the one pair of eyes looking between myself and Tyler.

Wheeler Yuta's POV:

I was just about to call YN's name when I saw walk into the room, but she was looking for someone. I saw the smile that cam over her face when she finally saw where that person was.

I already knew she was looking for Tyler, but I noticed the smile left her face and there seemed to be a bunch of different of emotions that came over her face.

I looked to where Tyler was and I saw why YN was upset. That guy is a damn fool that he can't see that YN is absolutely in love with him.

I looked back at YN and I saw her turn around and head back the same way she came. I wanted to follow her, but I knew she would be upset that I did that. So I went back to my conversation with Jon and Eddie, but I kept an eye on Tyler to see if he even noticed that YN wasn't there.

He never did.

Tyler's focus only seemed to be on Paige and for some reason that seemed to irk me.

Maybe it is because I look at YN and I see her like a sister to me. Ever since I started to work with her Dad, her and I have gotten close, so much so that the guys have started to tease me about her.

But I do not see YN like that. I really do only see her like a sister and seeing her hurt over some guy that clearly can't see what is right infront of him is killing me.

Hook's POV:

'Come on, pick up.' I thought as I waited for YN to pick up the phone, but once again it has gone straight to her voicemail. I groaned to myself and sent her another text, which I knew she would not answer.

I have been trying for days to get her to talk to me, but she has just been ignoring me and I have no idea what the hell I have done.

At first, she locked her office door and refused to open it for me. Next she ignored my text messages and now she isn't answering her phone. I know she has to be checking her voicemail because with how my voicemails I have left, her inbox would be full.

I tried to think about what I could of done to her to ignore me like this, but nothing came to mind.

But I did notice that Paul was giving me funny looks every single time I caught him looking at me. The two of us would make eye contact and he would just shake his head and look away from me.

He must know why YN is angry at me. I needed to ask him but I wanted to wait until he was alone.

Which was really hard to get him alone it seemed. He was always with someone, but then one day I saw him walking towards YN's office.

I stood around the corner and waited as he knocked on the door. I was expecting for him to be turned away like I have been lately, but to my shock, the door opened and he walked right on in and closed the door behind him.

I rushed to the door and put my ear against it, hoping I can something, but their voices were just muffled.

I must of looked crazy standing outside her door but I didn't care. I needed to know why she was ignoring me.

I waited and waited but I couldn't hear anything, only a few words here and there, but then I could hear his voice clearer. He must be coming to the door!

I quickly ran around the corner and waited for him there. I peaked around the corner and I could see him and her standing there, talking.

I am now too far away to hear anything but I could see the smile on her face but the smile did not reach her eyes.

Paul turned and started to walk in my direction so I leaned against the wall. Just as he walked past me, I spoke up.

"I see you and YN are getting awfully close." Paul stopped and looked at me. He looked me up and down before he answered.

"Not as close as you and Paige."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked him clearly confused.

"YN saw you and her getting close. You leaning in to whisper in her ear and her slapping your chest." Paul said to me.

"So? I was asking her for some boxing tips." Paul snorted at that. "Sure you were."

I took a few steps and now I am in his face. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you can only think with your dick and not realise that YN is in love with you and has been for a long ass time."

"Wait what?" I took a step back as I am confused by this. "YN isn't in love with me."

"Good thing you are pretty Tyler." I got offended at that but wanted to laugh because he just called me pretty.

"Look, YN saw you and Paige the other day and she is got upset and is still upset. She hasn't really been talking to anyone, not even her Dad, who by the way is getting worried about her."

"I didn't mean to hurt her." I told him truthfully.

"I know Tyler but you have to know this. YN has stood by as you have brought back woman after woman to your hotel room. She has listened as you tell us what you did to them. Seeing you flirt with someone just broke her."

"I need you to help me Paul. She won't answer the door for me. She won't answer her phone or any messages."

"I'll do what I can."

Tag List: if you would like to be added, please let me know. @lghockey @wwenhlimagines @damnnhausen @anaeve @crowleysqueenofhell @thenerdybaker523 @legit9thlunaticwarrior

~

I found myself standing a bit away from Paul as the two of us stood outside her door. He knocked and she asked her who it was. "Just me YN."

The two of us waited for her to unlock the door. Once she did, she opened it and she asked him to come in.

I heard her heels as she walked back to her desk. I quickly ran inside and closed the door behind me, loudly by mistake.

YN turned quickly and was just about to say something, but when she saw it was me, she closed her mouth.

For the first time in almost two weeks, I am in the same room alone with YN and I had no idea what to say.

I guess I always knew she liked me, but I was stupid once and told her I didn't want to date anyone. I just wanted to have a good time.

But I always came back to YN. She never once said anything to me when I would leave her standing alone in the club so I could get my dick wet.

She would clean off the lipstick marks off my neck or put makeup on the hickies and never once did she complain.

I started to think back on the women I could remember and they always seemed to have one thing in common, they always reminded me of YN.

Maybe the same eye colour, the same hair colour. Maybe the same dress, I don't know, but they always reminded me of her.

I had to stop myself a few times from saying her name, not wanting to offend the other person as I was thinking about YN.

"I'm sorry YN." I was the first one to talk.

"It's okay Tyler." I shook my head no at her as I started to walk towards her.

"It isn't. I should of told you why I talked to Paige that day. I wanted to get some boxing tips from her."

"Sure."

"It is the truth YN. I know it looked like I was flirting but I can't help that." I sure as hell will try harder now.

"If that is all, I have work I have to do."

"Just one more thing." I said as I am know standing infront of her.

"And that is?" YN whispered.

I didn't even answer her. I leaned in and gently kissed her lips, waiting for her to slap me or push me away....but she didn't.

YN and I deepened the kiss and I wrapped my arms around her waist and puked her flush against my body. Her hands were in my hair and was pulling it.

I needed air so I pulled back slightly and I looked at her face. YN as breathing heavy and her eyes were closed.

"I love you too YN. I always have." Her eyes opened real wide at my confession.

"What?"

"I love you YN. I was a fool to try and hide my feelings from you. I could of had you all these years."

"Yes you were a fool."

"Be mine?" I asked hopefully.

"Take me out to dinner and we will see." YN teased. I already knew she was going to be mine.

#aew #all elite wrestling #reader imagine #female reader #reader insert #hook aew imagine #hook imagine #hook x reader #hook #hook aew #aew hook #hook x y/n #hook x you #hook x female reader #wrestler imagine #wrestler x reader #wrestler x female reader

[murder-drones-writing]

Chains

Ngl the fact I was able to finish writing about Uzi being chained up but struggle to complete a wholesome work of N and Uzi being the chaos crew (still in progress) says something about me, and I'm not sure if I want to know.

Inspired by

Every part of Uzi's body hurt, her arms and hands were sore from the heavy shackles keeping her from using the AbsoluteSolver, bands on her wings to keep her from flying, and her tail tied in a knot to prevent her from using it to break her chains. And a chain around her body violently squeezing her torso.

The cell she was in was cold, damp, and dark. Moisture had begun to condensate on her metallic skin and her eyes were the only source of light. She could barely move, barely breathe (even though robots don't really have to breathe), and every movement she made was painful.

She couldn't even remember how long she had been there. It felt like years, even though in reality it was probably only days, a week at most. The day started to blend, the only way she knew when one day ended and the other began was when one of the WDF members would come to give her, breakfast.

And today the drone who gave her her food, was her father (if she could even call him that anymore), Khan. He stood in front of the cage, holding a bowl of oil with a few worker parts floating in it, his eyes in a look of fear and worry and his hands slightly shaking.

"Dad... " Uzi growled baring a few sharp metal fangs.

Khan said nothing, all he did was kneel and slide the bowl through a small hole in the bottom of the cage. Uzi tried to crawl to get her meal, only to get held back by the chain around her body. Khan noticed his daughter struggling so he grabbed a nearby pipe and pushed the bowl closer toward Uzi, allowing her to reach it.

Uzi looked down at the oil, seeing her scowling reflection, and back up at Khan, who couldn't even make eye contact with her.

"Well," Uzi asked, "Aren't you gonna get back to your precious doors now?" She asked with an eye roll. This remark caused kHan to cringe a bit. Uzi and Khan looked at each other for a few seconds, before Khan turned around. Uzi took this as a sign of he was about to leave and started to lap the oil out of the bowl. She always forgot how hungry she was, but eating always revived her appetite. From the moment she swallowed her meal's first mouthful, her body cried out for more.

Uzi sat up to wipe her mouth and was slightly shocked to see that Khan was still there, just staring into the cold darkness that surrounded her cell. Uzi looked at Khan and quietly shouted "Hey!" Causing Khan to jump a bit and turn his head slightly. Uzi just scowled, before looking back at her meal and gulping down about three more mouthfuls of oil. Before looking back up at Khan, whose eyes were in shocked expression before quickly turned his head away.

Uzi simply rolled her eyes and shouted "What, you just gonna stare at me like a sideshow freak?" uzi asked with a hand roll at the end. However Khan did not respond, all he did was look at Uzi from the corner of his visor. Uzi just glared for a moment, before returning to the oil. The bowl was almost way empty, with just a small pool of oil ad a few metal scraps in the bottom. Uzi looked back up at Khan with a bit of a scowl, before licking up the last bit of her food. She licked some of the oil off her face and shackled hands, before kicking the bowl to a pile of similar bowls.

She looked up at Khan, expecting him to spit or call her a freak as some of the other drones had done, but he just watched her. With digital tears forming at the corners of his animated eyes. Uzi simply scoffed before turning her back and pulling her knees up to her chest. She was about to close her eyes and try to sleep when she heard a sound she thought she never would, the sound of her cell door being opened. Uzi's robot adrenaline levels spiked and her eyes widened in a mixture of excitement and confusion.

She turned her head to see Khan holding the keys to her cage, looking at her with fear in his eyes and the beginning of a proud smile. He walked inside the cage and kneeled next to Uzi. They both looked into each other's eyes for a few seconds, anger in Uzi's and regret in Khan's. Khan sighed and put his hand on Uzi's shoulder, causing Uzi to jump a little bit. That was the first time he had treated her like anything more than a disappointment.

Uzi was about to say something when she felt the pressure around her hands release. She looked down and saw the shackles around her hands were unlocked. Allowing her to move her fingers for what felt like the first time. She looked up at Khan, who was fiddling with the chains around her legs and torso. Uzi didn't know how to react. Her father, who was one of the reasons she was in these chains, to begin with, was freeing her. When Khan unlocked the chains around her body and legs Uzi almost immediately reached out and hugged Khan. Khan gasped a bit before returning to his senses and hugging Uzi back.

Khan and Uzi got out of their hug and looked each other in the eyes for a few seconds. Uzi could feel tears forming in the corners of her eyes, and she saw the same happening with her dad.

"Go, save your friend," Khan said.

Uzi was genuinely shocked. Her father had called N her friend, instead of "the murder drone". Uzi reached forward to quickly hug her dad one last time. Before getting up and running out of the cell, she was going to save N, she had to.

#murder drones #uzi doorman #uzi #khan doorman #khan #serial designation (mentioned) #n (mentioned) #au

[dilfdoctordoom]

Genuinely torn between my hatred for the Inhumans and my hatred for synergizing Kamala rn.

Like, I haven’t liked the Inhumans since I watched Agents of Shield back before I was a comics person. They were obvious replacements for the X Men but without their superpowers or physical forms being inherent, which was always less compelling to me as a metaphor for an oppressed people. Then I started reading comics, saw that they were a eugenics-based society that tried to genocide mutants via GASSING THEM and weren’t treated as the obvious villains, and for the first time understood why comics fans hated the movies. I genuinely despise these fuckers.

HOWEVER, none of that hate applies to Ms. Marvel. Kamala Khan was always an interesting character to me because she felt like an Inhuman having to deal with both IRL discrimination and the consequences of Unhumans VS X Men, especially with younger Cyclops on the Champions. Fridging her in the worst Spider-Man story since ODM is never going to be okay, and bringing her back as a mutant, even if it doesn’t retcon her Inhuman past, is obvious MCU synergy at best and actively trying to sweep her past characterization under the rug at worst.

TL;DR I hate all of this so much

Inhumans are always so complicated 'cause Marvel never knows what to do with them & it's ended up really funny... they were best used in the Disney Ultimate Spider-Man TV series like that's embarassing....

I don't like them as a concept, but I do love some of the individual characters. Black Bolt has had some amazing stories over the years, Crystal is my cheating awful terrible wife <3 & Kamala is just...

Kamala is one of the most groundbreaking characters made in the past twenty, maybe 30, years. She's also a very rare character in that, despite the numerous runs she's had, they've had a consistent basis of quality. Some of them are absolutely fucking amazing (GWW) while others are just okay -- but unlike Spider-Man, Green Lantern, Daredevil, Wonder Woman, Batman, etc, she hasn't gotten a run that made me wanna claw my eyes out.

Until now, of course. The MCU synergy beam hit her as we all knew it would, but it feels... worse, IDK. I'd worried it was coming with her Beyond the Limits mini (its release was a lot closer to her TV series) but it didn't, it's here now, and that is, again, much worse.

She got horrifically fridged in a nonsensical story. Her family bangles - of great personal importance to her Pakistani family -- have seemingly gone to Mary Jane Watson, of all fucking people. Her death's being used to further the redemption arc of Norman Osborn, a man that canonically idolizes Hitler. She died to continue the Peter Parker Is Sad jerk circle.

And now she gets to come back, having part of her identity stripped away in favor of a new one (I know what Iman Vellani has said-- I expect that to last this mini/however long she writes the character). Debuting her as a mutant at all isn't great, but right now is worse.

X-Comics are gearing up for Fall of X, their next big shift/event. The focus is going to be there, not on Kamala.

I genuinely believe that we'll be lucky if she's cameoing in background appearances by next year, only getting random minis to coincide with her MCU movies/shows.

There are just... no redeeming qualities here. I can't even be excited about Iman Vellani, somebody who so clearly adores everything about Ms Marvel, writing for her 'cause honestly? I don't think it matters how much you love a character over at Marvel. There's always going to be a stupid editorial mandate.

#q & a #im just really mad lmao fuck marvel they need to stay away from kamala khan forever

[hummingbird-of-light]

Against All Odds

Part 487

McCoy

McCoy could barely keep his eyes open as he and Scotty laid together in bed. They had been reading, but had finally set the book aside. The long afternoon of heightened emotions, the walk in the rain, the steamy shower together, and then a good meal afterwards had left McCoy drained.

He curled in closer against Scotty.

“Just sleep love,” Scotty chuckled softly, as McCoy tried again to keep his eyes open.

He had come awake more when they had stopped reading and got snuggled together, but now the warmth flowing over from Scotty was too much.

“‘Kay,” he mumbled sleepily. He felt Scotty stretch across him and turn the light out. Fingers rubbed his shoulder and then McCoy was out.

He woke in a panic with his heart racing. A cold sweat had broken out on his forehead. He took a deep breath to slow the pounding in his chest. McCoy looked around. Scotty was next to him still and the moon was sending beams across the floor from the windows.

His body sagged against the bed. He’d had a nightmare. Another deep breath, and he rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling.

They’d been in the forest at school. On the trail. Khan had suddenly stepped from the trees with Sural. McCoy had grabbed Scotty’s hand and they had begun to run, but it hadn’t been fast enough compared to the augment and the Romulan. They’d been caught. He’d been forced to watch as they hurt Scotty.

McCoy choked back a sob. He didn’t want to wake his fiancé. The sounds of pain Scotty had made in his dream were the sounds he had made in real life on the Romulan ship. McCoy could only hope someday the screams would leave his memory.

He blew out another deep breath. They were fine. They were home. They were safe. He repeated it over and over in his head. He rolled back onto his side and moved back tight against Scotty. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt his fiancé ever again. He laid an arm across Scotty as he tried to get comfortable.

McCoy was still warm as they sat down to breakfast. He wasn’t feeling very hungry. And he was tired. After he’d woken in the middle of the night he had struggled to stay asleep, rolling over and over trying to get comfortable.

“Ye alright love?” Scotty asked him quietly.

“Yeah, just not hungry,” he replied. He spread a thin layer of jam on a piece of toast.

Scotty made an acknowledging noise next to him.

“I didn’t sleep well,” McCoy admitted.

David and Dr. Boyce came in then. The doctor stopped as he looked at McCoy, and frowned.

“What?” McCoy asked reflexively.

“You’re flushed Leonard,” Dr. Boyce said.

“No…”

“Ye are a bit red Len,” Scotty said, turning to take a good look at him.

McCoy saw Dr. Boyce look down at his plate.

“And not hungry?”

“What is it Phil?” David asked.

“And you were out in the rain last night,” Dr. Boyce continued.

“So?” McCoy asked.

“Are you going to admit you don’t feel well?” Dr. Boyce asked with a smile.

“I’m fine,” McCoy frowned.

“Is Lenny sick?” Leah’s voice asked as she and Robbie sat down.

“No!” McCoy replied adamantly.

“He gets super grumpy when he’s sick, Scotty,” Leah warned.

“No I don’t. Shut up Leah!”

“See? It’s starting.” Leah turned and nodded wisely at Robbie.

“He’s only one denial in Princess,” Dr. Boyce said with a wink at Leah. “You know we have a few more to go.”

Leah laughed as McCoy turned towards the head of the table.

“Father!” he protested.

“Leah, Phil, it isn’t fair to poke fun at him when you know he’s sick.” David’s tone was serious, but his eyes betrayed his amusement.

“I’m not sick!” McCoy said again. Before anyone could say anything else he sneezed.

David and Dr. Boyce shared a glance while Leah giggled.

“I’m sorry Scotty,” she said between laughs. “He’s a terrible patient.”

McCoy let out an exasperated noise.

“I’m fine!” he said again. “Don’t listen to them,” he said to Scotty.

Part 488

Scotty

They were sitting in Dr. Boyce's office working on their schoolwork, but Scotty was having a hard time concentrating. His eyes kept gliding over to his fiancé, who was sniffling and sneezing in between.

He clearly had a cold. Even if he wouldn't admit it.

Leonard noticed Scotty looking over at him and he smiled with bleary eyes.

There were dark bags under his eyes and his face was mostly pale. Only his forehead and cheeks seemed to literally glow.

Scotty turned to their substitute teacher who was sitting at his desk working on something.

"Dr. Boyce?"

The doctor looked up.

"Huh? What is it, Scotty?"

"I have some Federation history tasks here. That... isn't exactly my specialty. Do ye mind if I work on these with Leonard?"

Dr. Boyce raised an eyebrow in surprise, but a smile quickly crept onto his lips. He seemed to realize what Scotty was planning.

"But of course. As long as you talk quietly and don't disturb Robbie and Spock."

Scotty nodded quickly, then moved closer to Leonard.

"How can I help you?"

The prince's voice sounded incredibly husky. He cleared his throat quickly.

"Len, shouldn't ye get some rest? I can see ye're not feeling well."

Leonard seemed to be trying his best not to groan. His look, however, said everything.

"I'm fine, leannan. I... I just didn't sleep well. That's all."

Scotty tilted his head and eyed Leonard critically.

"So, what do you need my help with?"

Quickly the prince tried to change the subject and he pulled Scotty's PADD over to him.

His eyes scanned the screen and Scotty immediately saw that Leonard was having trouble keeping them open.

"You... You'd best read the sixth chapter again. It's all in there."

Scotty nodded in understanding, but he only felt his assumption confirmed. If Leonard *really* were well, he would have explained the answer long and hard to Scotty. But even at the short answer, his voice broke away.

The Scotsman exchanged a glance with Dr. Boyce, who just shook his head. He seemed to know this behavior of Leonard's all too well.

Scotty shrugged helplessly. He could only try to get Leonard to bed somehow after class. Which... shouldn't be too difficult for him.

'It'll be fine,' Dr. Boyce assured him dumbly, and Scotty nodded in agreement.

"I've finished all my work. How about you?"

Leonard and Scotty walked together to the dining room, closely followed by Spock and Robbie.

"Aye, all done."

The prince smiled, somehow trying to mask his fatigue.

"I hardly think Lenny's tasks look good, though, given his state of health."

The boys turned and saw Leah coming toward them, grinning.

Leonard murmured in annoyance.

"I'm in great shape. I'm perfectly fine."

Leah hooked up with her brother and laughed.

"Of course you are. So... I know you always look like crap, brother mine, but today is especially bad."

Leonard quickly wrenched his arm free and glared angrily at his sister.

"Shut up, bitch!"

"Oi!" Robbie had stepped to Leah's side and immediately defended his girlfriend.

"I'm fine. End of useless discussion!"

With those words, Leonard quickened his pace, his nose raised snappishly.

Scotty exchanged a glance with Leah, who just grinned.

They took their seats at the table and only a short time later lunch was served.

Scotty couldn't help smiling as a familiar smell filled his nose.

The plates were quickly filled and Leonard cast an annoyed glance around the table.

"Come on. You guys aren't serious, are you? I'm not sick!"

A classic chicken soup steamed before them. A soup that looked very familiar to Scotty and brought back fond memories in him.

"I don't need stupid soup to get better!"

The prince crossed his arms sullenly. He really was like a defiant child.

"Leonard!" Eleanor gave her son an indignant look.

"Leonard Horatio McCoy, it is very rude to say such a thing in the presence of the grandiose cook."

David also looked sternly at Leonard. The prince's features immediately slipped.

"What's that supposed to mea-"

Leonard did not finish his question, for when his eyes met Francine's, it seemed clear to him.

The cheeks, which had already been red, only blushed more.

"It's an old family recipe. I used to make this soup when Monty and Robbie had colds."

Leonard stared awkwardly at the floor.

"I... um... thank you, Francine. That... is really very kind of you."

Francine just smiled, not seeming upset by Leonard's previous statement.

"But I don't have a cold!" the prince quickly added.

Leah rolled her eyes.

"And yet, now we all get to enjoy this great fragrant soup. Thank you, Lenny," she said with a wink.

"It... tastes good even if you don't have a cold," Francine said, gently squeezing Leonard's hand. The prince nodded.

"I can believe that."

"Well then... bon appétit."

#star trek #montgomery scott #leonard mccoy #scones #au #against all odds #grumpy leonard being grumpy

[samasmith23]

How Magnificent Ms. Marvel deconstructs the "Chosen One" archetype

One element of the Destined arc from Saladin Ahmed's run on Magnificent Ms. Marvel that I find interesting is that it actively subverts orientalist and imperialist tropes present in sci-fi "chosen one saves alien planet" narratives.

Specifically, the whole idea of a human being whisked away to rescue an entire alien civilization from their own despotic dictator was heavily popularized by the comic-strip/serial show Flash Gordon, which was infamous for its usage of racist Yellow Peril tropes. Like not only was the main antagonist of Flash Gordon, Ming the Merciless, an overtly Yellow-Face Fu-Manchu caricature, but even the name of the planet he ruled, "Mongo," sounds awfully similar to the real-life Asian country of Mongolia. And this is made even more uncomfortable by the fact that Flash Gordon himself is the stereotypically glorified blonde-haired blue-eyed white male, and both the strip and serials portray him as liberating and conquering the planet Mongo from the obviously Asian-coded villain.

So yeah, there are definitely some imperialist and orientalist trappings within the "human saves alien planet" narrative. However, while the Destined arc of Magnificent Ms. Marvel is clearly modeled after this archetypal narrative, there are plenty of ways in which it both subverts and deconstructs this type of plot IMO. Immediately right off the bat one of the key methods in which Destined avoids the same White Savior trapping as Flash Gordon does is through the fact that although the protagonist Kamala Khan is an American, she's simultaneously a brown Muslim Girl who comes from a first-generation Pakistani immigrant family. So that alone already subverts the traditional "chosen one/savior" archetype by having the main character be a woman of color instead of a white man. Plus the author of Magnificent Ms. Marvel, Saladin Ahmed, is a Lebanese-American Muslim, whereas Flash Gordon's creator, the late Alex Raymond, was a white man.

Furthermore, what also helps the Ms. Marvel arc is that even though the alien civilization of Saffa which Kamala and her parents visit is clearly modeled after Arabic and Middle Eastern cultures, it avoids the orientalist trappings since this coding reads much closer to Kamala's own Muslim identity and the story even draws direct parallels between the two. While of course Pakastini and Arabic cultures are not the same and bear distinctions between each other, there is still some overlap between them especially through shared Islamic traditions, which is a huge deviation and contrast from the clearly all-American Flash Gordon versus the obviously Yellow-Peril inspired Ming the Merciless.

Lastly, in an interesting twist it's actually not the theocratic dictator which Kamala saves the planet Saffa from, but rather from the invading hordes of a rival alien empire who were mentioned in the the "Destined One" legend that the Saffans' believed Kamala was a part of. And the Saffan dictator, Maliq Zeer, who was previously built up in the narrative as the traditional final boss ends up putting aside his own evil agendas in order to prevent his planet's annihilation.

Plus, the entire story is focused on deconstructing the chosen one trope by examining how various other characters view Kamala as a hero, as well as her own struggles with this sort of glorification whilst still trying to protect others simply because its the right thing to do.

And while I've seen some people argue that the Saffan's "magic = Islam" which therefore "intrinsically roots violence in their beliefs and has such messed up connotations," it's outright stated or heavily implied in the Destined arc that that Maliq Zeer and his priest's version of the "Destined One" legend was a perversion of the planet's normal belief system to amass their own political power, which said dictator is willing to put aside when the Beast Legions from the legend return in the arc's climax. Heck, even the aforementioned "call for prayer" that Cheb Hura (Maliq Zeer's son and the leader of a band of rebel freedom fighters) mentioned previously was coded as something positive rather than negative since it was banned by the theocratic dictator.

So overall, I personally felt that while Saladin Ahmed’s Destined arc was playing with the “human saves alien civilization” narrative that was typical in old sci-fi serials like Flash Gordon, he simultaneously avoids a lot of the problematic white-savior and imperialist/orientalist tropes which also predominated those older stories due to Kamala’s own status as a Pakistani-American Muslim girl, the subverting of the tropes found in these kinds of narratives, as well as the overall framing around the Arab-coded alien civilization.

#kamala khan #ms marvel #magnificent ms marvel #saladin ahmed #marvel #comics #minkyu jung #flash gordon #mini essay

[danwhobrowses]

Wrestle Kingdom 17 Quick Thoughts

So it's January which means Wrestle Kingdom day, singular this time though having strangely swapped mentality with WWE on forgoing a 2-Day main PPV

Nevertheless, we'll see what the show has to offer, I'm not gonna go in full depth like previous ones, just general thoughts I had during the show

Spoilers for those who didn't wanna know

I must admit I hate the KOPW Ranbo, it often just feels like the 'this is all the talent we don't have anything for right now' rumble and then you have to watch the likes of KENTA, Cobb, Great O Khan, Shingo Takagi, Ishii fight for it. There's some bright spots for comedy like ELP eliminating someone via a nipple cripple but overall it is something I could do without

Junior Tag Title was fun, but I probably would not have had the opener with cheering officially back end in a heel win via roll-up

I am also fuming that NJPW only gave KAIRI and Tam 6 minutes, sure there'd be aftermath but given how past Exhibition and Dark matches for Stardom went longer it's a huge disservice that the first Title Match (for the IWGP Women's Championship made to establish a stronger relation between Stardom and NJPW) is also Stardom's shortest entry in Wrestle Kingdom

Mercedes had a great look side for the fire hair which looked weird at angles, honestly I think her debut could've been done better; she was geared up but didn't wrestle, she botched that Gory Special/DDT move (which through experience watching the Tay-KO from Tay Melo is not easy to synchronize anyway) and her promo was a tad on the basic side, not bad but below expectation

FTR losing already felt like writing on the wall given how they dropped the ROH and AAA tag titles already, it was a decent match and Bishamon are a great tag team but we could've gone with a more refreshing choice, shame to hear that FTR had travel issues too

I will say though that dropping their titles is not 'clear indication' that they're going to WWE, they've had a busy as hell year so now they can rest up, Dax has noted that he's closer to the end of his career than the middle so they may prefer a lighter schedule, I've said it before but just because Triple H is doing okay in WWE does not mean every ex-WWE member is frothing to come back

ZSJ won the gingerbread biscuit title to nobody's surprise, but him replacing JONAH in TMDK is a strong choice

Makes me wonder who else will join now that Suzuki-Gun is no more, Archer and Despy are TMDK material but I could also see them in Bullet Club, a huge curveball would be Despy to LIJ

I actually really liked the Muta six-man, it had a good pace and showcase which still allowed Mutoh to shine, but in the end they used it to put over the younger talent by having Shooter get the pin

LIJ vs Kongoh has the potential to slap hard again, I did panic when they were saying 'backstage altercation' that there would be some shoot activity going on, flashbacks of All Out had me worried

I like Hiromu, but this win really started to grind on the 'nothing changes' critique I get every time I watch WK; the title always makes its way back to him, we did well to get people behind Master Wato and his Crucifix Hip Toss thing is actually pretty cool, but again we do need fresher faces in the title picture

Kenny out with the Sephiroth gear was cool but then Ospreay whipped out Elevated just when I was thinking 'I miss Will's old theme'

To nobody's surprise, the match was among the best, probably the best, it did start out like an Omega showcase but after the table spot it came to life, the ending was great as well; Ospreay bloody and defiant and Kenny using an absolutely brutal Kamigoye and OWA to win

You're best to bet on Death Triangle winning the best of 7 in AEW now that Kenny's US champion

*sigh* Okada's great we get it but god damn why does it always end with Okada winning? Jay's great too you know? Honestly I think Gedo needs help. Shingo challenges next but we all know this won't really end well for him.

It just never changes, I can go back to WK11 - when the era of the Rainmaker had its last WK defense before losing to Kenny at Dominion - and since then Okada had only lost twice at Wrestle Kingdom, and that was WK13 to Jay, right on the end of his red dye balloon phase, and WK14's Double Gold Dash - where he had beaten Ibushi for the world title on Day 1 just to lose correctly to Naito on Day 2.

It goes deeper too; since WK11 Hiromu has been in 6 out of 7 Junior Heavyweight title matches, he's only lost twice (to Despy at 16 and Ospreay at 12). Bishamon are 2 for 2 in winning the tag titles at WK having beaten Dangerous Tekkers last year, you have to go back to WK13 for Ospreay's last singles win (at least this time the United Empire wasn't swept this time), WK14 since Jay's last win (and it was a consolation win since he lost the IC title in the Double Gold Dash). Even just comparing to WK16 there are similarities in booking.

A lot of the time I watch Wrestle Kingdom and compare where wrestlers are now compared to last year, and each time I find that the ones I liked last year fall down while the ones who can take losses to put people over remain on top, of course there are exceptions - Master Wato and Shota Umino for instance - but most of the time it ends this way

The show was okay, I feel like a lot of things could've been better, if they did 2 days they'd have had more time for other things as well

#new japan pro wrestling #njpw #wrestle kingdom 17 #wk17 #elp #el phantasmo #KAIRI #kairi hojo #kairi sane #tam nakano #stardom #world wonder ring stardom #mercedes moné #sasha banks #mercedes varnado #FTR #dax harwood #cash wheeler #bishamon #hirooki goto #yoshi hashi #zack sabre jr #ren narita #tmdk #suzuki gun #los ingobernables de japon #kongoh #pro wrestling noah #keiji mutoh #great muta

[datauthorress]

The Deepest Part of Us [Chapter 5]

Pairing: Khan Noonien Singh/Original Female Character

Summary: Thrown through a teleportation portal gone wrong, Shelby finds herself on the rocky and dangerous planet of Qo’noS, hurt and far away from home. Upon meeting a man named Khan who’s on the run from Starfleet, she confides in him that he can get her home, but of course, not without trouble.

Rating: E

Warnings: Khan being Khan! An attempt at psychological manipulation done by Marcus.

Shelby jerked as the ship came to a sudden halt, not using to such a giant ship coming to a stop without warning. She lifted her head from Khan’s chest, and she heard him shush her gently.

“Easy, we’ve just arrived at Earth.” He assured her.

Shelby sighed softly and sat up slowly, running a hand through her hair. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes while she pushed the blanket off of her. “How long was I asleep?”

“One hour and thirty-seven minutes.” Khan replied, sitting up as well and maneuvering his leg from around her.

Shelby sat properly on the edge of the bed and fixed her shirt, not finding it in herself to be embarrassed because she slept on Khan. To think she was nervous around him before and now it just felt….

Normal.

As normal could ever be when you dream of getting together with a wanted man.

Shelby glanced up as Kirk and Spock came into the room and up to the forcefield of the cell. “The Admiral will be coming on board shortly. You will be taken into his custody,” Spock informed Khan.

“And what of Shelby?” Khan questioned.

“He did not say,”

That didn’t sound good.

“What you told me,” Kirk began, causing Khan to turn his attention to the captain. “If you’re right about Marcus, then how do we prove that he was going to do it?”

“Exactly as I said. Be quiet and don’t mention anything of the sort until I have what I need.” Khan replied.

Kirk and Spock exchanged glances between each other before they left to go back to the bridge.

It wasn’t long before Shelby saw an older man walking into the room with a group of armed guards. Shelby immediately deduced that she despised him, and knew she was going to want him dead.

“Harrison,” the Admiral said.

“I believe we’re past masks, Admiral.” Khan spoke.

Admiral Marcus’ jaw clenched a bit and Shelby could see the irritation in his body. His gaze slowly moved over to Shelby, and she narrowed her eyes at him, before she stepped closer to Khan, silently letting Marcus know that she vouched for him.

“This the girl?” Marcus questioned Spock.

“Yes, Admiral.” Spock replied.

“Good. Cuff them both and take them to my office.”

Shelby was startled by the order, and she glanced at Khan, who side-eyed her and shook his head, silently telling her not to struggle and not to fight. She flinched when her hands were taken roughly and cuffed together, as were Khan’s. “Sir, if I may,” Spock began. “Miss O’viere has no record of crimes in her file. She’s a successful author and was only on the planet due to a teleportation portal gone wrong. She’s no threat.”

“She’s aligned with this man, she’s just as guilty as he is.” Marcus replied.

“Admiral, she’s-,” Kirk began, but a hard gaze from Marcus made him shut up.

“That is all.” Marcus said, before walking out of the room.

~ ~

Shelby glanced out the window, fidgeting in her seat nervously as she and Khan waited in the Admiral’s office. There was a glass of water in front of them, to which Khan had tested it first to make sure it hadn’t been poisoned or contaminated with anything. It hadn’t been and deemed it safe to drink. There was no way out of the room either since they were high up in the Starfleet HQ and the door was locked from the outside.

“We’ve been in here for two hours,” Shelby said, snapping her fingers lightly to try and keep herself from being under stimulated.

“More than likely Marcus is attempting to come up with a charge for you,” Khan said. “Or he’s thinking about sending you home, or to attempt to use you against me.”

“That’s real comforting,” she huffed, leaning against the side of the chair.

“I won’t lie to you,” he told her.

“I may be the only person you extend that to,”

“Perhaps, but you’ve earned by trust.”

Shelby went quiet for a moment at the realization. He trusted her. Khan trusted her. That admittance made her heart do a leap and she glanced at him with a soft gaze. “You trust me?” she asked softly.

Khan turned slightly to face her, his gaze serious, but also softer than she thought it could be. “Yes, do you trust me?”

“Yes.” She replied without hesitation.

“Why?”

“Why? You…. you saved my life countless times. You protected me, even when you were dealing with Starfleet and you still are. I trust you because you trusted me to open up to me about what happened to you.” She explained and let out a soft sigh. “Kahn, I trust you because I-,”

Before Shelby could finish, the door opened, and Marcus walked into the room along with two guards. The door was shut behind him and Marcus took a seat behind his desk. He leaned forwards and slid over the cordless phone towards the corner where Shelby was sitting close by and she noticed there was a red light blinking on it.

“Answer it, Miss O’viere.” Marcus said.

Shelby stared at the phone for a moment before she reached forward and picked it up, putting it to her ear. “H…hello?” she asked.

“Sweetie?”

Her eyes widened as she heard the sweet voice of her mother on the other line.

“Mom?” she whispered.

“Oh honey! We’re so happy you’re okay!” her mother said between sobs.

Shelby could hear more crying on the other end, knowing it was her siblings and possibly her father, who never cried. “Hey, mom. Hey, I’m okay…...I’m okay, stop crying.” She said, feeling her own eyes welled up with hot tears.

“Sweetie, you’ve been gone for almost a week,” her father said on the other end of the line. “Admiral Marcus said you were sucked into a teleportation portal that had gone wrong. Is that true?”

“Yes, it’s true.” Shelby replied.

“Are you okay? We’re you hurt at all?”

“I had some burns and some Lichtenburg Figures, but I’m alright now.” Shelby answered, feeling a few tears rolling down her cheeks. “I landed on the Klingon planet.”

“Kronos?! How did you get back?” her oldest brother, Seth, exclaimed.

Shelby glanced over at Khan, who was watching her with curiosity and interest. “I was saved by someone. He took care of me while I was hurt and made sure I was safe. He protected me,”

“Oh honey, we’re so glad you’re okay. Do you know when you’re coming home? Should we come meet you?” her mother asked.

“I’m not sure yet, soon.” Shelby said and her gaze went to Marcus for a moment, to which she tightened her grip on the phone. God, she hated him. Hated him for what he did to Khan. “I still have some things to do here first, and I’ll be home soon.”

Marcus gestured his hand slightly, telling her to hurry up.

“Listen, I gotta go, okay? I’ll give you a call when I’m ready, okay?” Shelby said.

“Honey, please call us soon. We’re glad you’re safe, but we’re still worried. The Admiral said that the man who took care of you is a wanted man. Did he ever hurt you or put his hands on you?” her father asked, sounding protective.

“No dad, he never hurt me.” She replied, swallowing down a shaky sigh. “He protected me, I promise. He’s kind and….safe. I promise, I’ll let you guys know when I’m ready to come home.”

“Okay, honey. Okay. We love you, very much.”

“I love you guys, too.” She whispered. “Bye.”

Shelby hung up the phone and sniffled softly, reaching up to wipe at her eyes roughly. She despised crying in front of others.

“Kind?” Marcus questioned. “I wouldn’t call Khan kind. He’s a murderer and he killed my men.”

“You held his crew hostage and killed some of them when he refused to obey you,” Shelby spat back. “You’re the murderer here, Admiral. I’d rather believe Khan a million times over you. I’m not the one that tried to plan a war and kill innocents.”

“Oh, so he told you my plan, did he?” Marcus asked, sounding irritated.

“I won’t lie to her,” Khan said, unashamed of his answer and the way he seemed to be fond of Shelby.

“Okay, so here’s what we’re going to do. If you two are so loyal to each other,” Marcus began. “We’re going to perform a series of tests. The first one will be a polygraph. You better be ready because it starts in ten minutes.”

~ ~

“Miss O’viere? If you’re ready, we will begin.”

Shelby took a deep breath, calming herself down. “Yes.”

“We’ll start off easy. What is your full name?”

“Shelby Elizabeth O’viere.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-nine.”

“When is your birthday, month and day?”

“August 24th,”

“Where were you born?”

“Sails, Indiana.”

The woman gave a nod, indicating that Shelby was doing well. “Very good. Let’s next go on with psychological questions.”

“Okay.” She nodded.

“Do you have any mental illnesses?”

“Yes.”

“What are they?”

“Depression, General Anxiety Disorder, Panic Disorder and Insomnia.”

“When were you diagnosed with these mental disorders?”

Shelby had to think for a moment before she answered. “When I was 15-years old.”

“Why?”

“Because I….” she paused, hesitating. Shelby swallowed thickly before she answered. “I almost killed myself due to bullying. I couldn’t handle the pain anymore and I just wanted it to stop.”

The woman nodded, either unaware or ignoring the fact that Shelby’s eyes were brimmed with tears. “Your medical records state you were in the hospital at 16. What happened?”

“Car accident. I was impaled with a piece of rebar, and I had a complete hysterectomy because of it.”

The woman nodded once again. “You’re doing very well, Miss O’viere. We’re almost done. Just take a deep breath.”

Shelby took a deep breath before they moved onto the next part. “Are you sexually active?” the woman asked.

“No.”

“Have you ever been sexually active?”

“No.”

“So you’ve never had penetrative sex?”

“No.”

“So you are a virgin?”

“Yes.” She mumbled.

“Last section of questions.” The woman announced and Shelby took a deep breath once again. “You know exactly who John Harrison, also known as Khan Noonien Singh, is?”

“Yes.” Shelby replied.

“So you’re aware of what he has done?”

“Yes.”

“You’re aware that he has killed people and was once a terrorist?”

“Yes.”

“Do you believe, during your time with Mr. Singh, that you developed a condition called Stockholm Syndrome?”

Again with this question. “No,” Shelby replied with gritted teeth.

“Why do you say that?” the woman asked.

“He never took my freedom from me. He never hurt me, never put his hands on me. He protected me on the planet and kept me safe from harm. I know what Stockholm Syndrome is and this is not it.”

“Do you feel as though you’ve developed a relationship with him?”

Fuck.

“No.”

The machine beeped and she silently cursed to herself. “Answer the question, truthfully.” The woman said. “Do you feel as though you’ve developed a relationship with Mr. Singh?”

Shelby swallowed thickly, digging her nails into the arm of the chair. “Yes.” She mumbled.

“What kind of relationship do you believe it is?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you have romantic and/or sexual attraction to Mr. Singh?”

“No-,”

The machine beeped. “Miss O’viere, do you have romantic and/or sexual attraction to Mr. Singh?” the woman asked.

Shelby was quiet, knowing very well Marcus was watching on the other side of the two-way mirror. She replied after a long moment, softly. “Yes.”

There was a long silence before the machine beeped one last time. “We’re all done, Miss O’viere.” The woman announced.

Shelby took a deep, shaky breath, swallowing down her tears. She didn’t know if Khan was on the other side of the mirror, but she hoped to god he wasn’t, because this wasn’t the way she wanted him to find out that she was attracted to him. Marcus had clearly planned this.

“Fuck you, Marcus.” She whispered.

After going to the bathroom and getting a drink of water, Shelby was cuffed once more and taken back to Marcus’ office. Khan was there, and Marcus behind the desk. She sat down in her seat and felt Khan’s gaze on her.

“I’m going to play something, and afterwards, I’ll tell you how you both did.” Marcus said and pressed a button on the remote.

A transparent screen appeared between them, and Marcus and Shelby noticed it was a video of Khan’s polygraph test. It must’ve been done the same time as hers was. “I’m going to skip right to the formalities. Pay attention.” Marcus spoke and fast-forwarded to what Shelby assumed was near the end of the test.

“Did you, at any time, have thoughts of abandoning Miss O’viere to fend for herself?” the man doing the polygraph test asked.

“Yes, after she was nearly killed by Klingon patrol.” Khan replied without hesitation.

“What made you stay?”

“I saw potential and understanding in her.”

“So you stayed because you wanted to use her for your own benefit?”

“Yes.”

Ooof, damn. That kind of stung, but Shelby didn’t blame him.

“What made you change your mind?” the man asked.

“Her understanding of my kind and willingness to listen. She understood my hatred for Admiral Marcus. There was no pity for me, I didn’t want it. Kindness.”

          The machine didn’t beep at all, so Khan was absolutely telling the truth. Shelby was shocked, but she kept her expression hidden.

          “So you kept her for, say, a partnership?”

          “Companionship.”

          “Did you ever think of hurting her?”

          “No.”

          “Why not?”

          “She had done nothing to me, and only wanted to go home. I saw no malice in her.”

          “Do you now, or have you ever, had romantic and/or sexual attraction to Miss O’viere?”

          Shelby held her breath, her heart pounding in her chest.

          “Yes.”

          Her eyes widened once more.

          “So you care for her?”

          “Yes.”

          “If anything were to happen to her, what would you do?”

          “Make the person who did it, suffer.”

          “Like Admiral Marcus?”

          “Yes.”

          The man nodded and ended the test. The screen vanished and Marcus cleared his throat.

          “What was the purpose of the polygraph tests?” Khan demanded.

          “To test your loyalty to each other,” Marcus replied.

          Marcus gestured to one of the guards and Shelby felt the sense of impending doom coming down on her. She didn’t have time to turn as something hard and metal struck across the back of her head, and she fell out of the chair, landing hard on the floor. She watched with blurry vision as Khan leaped out of the chair and was caught by the other guard in the room.

          Shelby glanced up with blurry vision as Marcus walked around the desk, staring down at her. His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear what he said.

          Her vision faded to black as darkness welcomed her like an old friend.

#fic: the deepest part of us #khan noonien singh [star trek] #shelby o'viere [oc] #;relationships [khan/shelby] #tw // psychological manipulation

[bull-enterprise]

POV: Victoria Olgimskaya Time: Morning Day: 2 Status: @andrey-khan-taya

Capella had soothed as many children as she could while strolling around the town. The younger ones were scared of what was to come. They wished for new trains, new nuts and eventually asked about who would replace old Burakh. The latter was the only question she couldn’t fully answer. She had hopes that the younger Burakh could fill in the void that his father had left, but she had yet to meet him. And she wouldn’t meet him still for a while longer as for now she sought another.

In other circumstances, she wouldn’t have come near the polyhedron, but now she needed council, and to have a word with the doghead’s leader. His guards glared and snarled as she stepped closer, but didn’t hold their ground when Capella made her intent clear.

She was going to talk to Khan, whether he came down to her or she went up to him.

#PathologicRP #Capella #Victoria Olgimskaya

[timeandspacenovelist]

Kiss It Better

Rating: T Chapters: 1

Summary: With the Doctor sustaining a small injury while facing the Daleks, Yaz goes to help take care of her, which results in some uncomfortable conversations being had.

Read this story on another platform: Archive of Our Own

Another encounter with the Daleks, another brush with danger. This time, was too close for comfort. She had to push someone out of the way of a blast and it only just missed her. But the town was saved, the Daleks were sent packing, and she managed to do all of it, while Yaz and Dan were still in the Tardis asleep. After their last taxing adventure, she let them stay and sleep while she burned off her excess energy exploring another place… only to run into Daleks. But that was typical for her. She never found danger. Danger always found her.

But she was a bit tired herself now, if she was honest. Running from Dalek beams usually took a lot out of her. She eased off her coat and went to throw it on the Tardis steps before she took a good look at it. The now blackened hole towards the top wasn’t the most ideal thing in the world. She grumbled to herself. That was her favorite coat. The Tardis would definitely give her a talking to and keeping safe, but she did get away unscathed at least. Something she expected she wasn't sure she would do in the incoming future. So why not take the risks? Her time was ending soon anyway..

Nothing is forever. No regeneration, no life. Beware of the forces that mass against you… And their Master

Those words would replay over and over in her mind constantly. She had an idea of what they meant and if she was honest, she wasn’t ready, not yet. She had been through this over 12 times, even more times that she knew of. But last time, she at least felt…. satisfied.

Even when she refused to regenerate, it was out of an urge to stop always being someone else and changing so much. But after meeting her younger self and getting that sense of clarity, she was better. She could move on (from certain things, at least…). But now, her time felt incomplete. Like she still had so much more to do. Of course, whatever was coming for her could reach when she had lived a fulfilling life. But she couldn’t take that chance, and no matter how hard she tried, it remained on the front of her mind consistently. So she chose to finally stop putting her off…

Yasmin Khan. One of her main reasons for wanting to keep going. There was Dan, obviously, as well as the adventures and the travel and so much more. But it was Yaz who made it all worthwhile.

The patience of a saint, someone who should have realized how much trouble falling in love with her would garner. But she never complained. Never about the danger, the locations she’d miss, the places they didn’t end up going to.

But she never cared about that, did she? She didn’t love the travels and the places and the adventures. She loved her, just for who she was. It was a weird feeling, but one she cherished. And one that kept her going and fighting, knowing that someone loved her with all their body and their soul for who she was, not what she could be. Though lately, she wondered what a woman like her wanted with a Timelord like her. ______________________________________________________________

As she eased down onto the steps to sit, she could feel her back stinging a bit. That fall to duck a swipe from a sword earlier on must have come back to bite her. She wanted to do the Matrix move, but evidently she forgot that that was from a movie and promptly fell hard onto the floor. But at least she ducked the blow! She could feel the pain, mostly at the top of her back, closer to her neck. So she peeled back her layer of shirts to check where it was and then she felt it…

It pained massively when she touched it without much caution and she instantly felt the mark. Then it hit her. She remembered where the mark on the coat was. She quickly took off the shirts, (which proved very difficult with the pain) leaving herself in her bra (that Yaz was nice enough to help buy for her a long time ago). She then traced her hand to where she first felt it and kept moving to the side.

The cut wasn’t that big, and it had seemingly already healed up slightly since she returned. Thank goodness for Time Lord biology. But it still basically hurt like hell. Guess that Dalek was a better shot than she thought. Still, could be worse. All she had to do was get to the bathroom, dress up the wound and just let it heal. She gingerly got up from the steps and went to walk out, but realized her coat and shirts were still there. The Tardis would hate if she just left them there. A slow retrieval was now in order. But when she stood back up, the clothing in hand, she froze like the statue she once was as she heard the one voice she did not want to hear right now. ______________________________________________________________

“Doctor?” Yaz called out from behind her.

Yaz was about to inquire what the Doctor was doing there, having assumed she was also sleeping in her room, but then she saw it. While not massive, it didn’t take binoculars to note the cut on her back. She rushed over to her, desperate to see what had happened.

“Doctor, what happened?!”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

Yaz touched the cut, and the Doctor winced in pain, revealing the fib.

“You’re obviously not. How did you get this?”

“Well, remember when I saw you off to bed and you said go to bed too?”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t go to bed. I still had a ton of energy, so I headed somewhere else, with impeccable Tardis landing skills, I must add. Found a place and ran into some Daleks. One of them shot at a woman. I went to save her and I...”

“Ended up with that...” Yaz said, inspecting the cut.

“Yeah...”

“Well, come on then. We’re getting you cleaned up.”

“Honestly, I’m good. I just..”

“Here, now!” Yaz said authoritatively, bringing back the voice she saved for her previous job.

She looked sternly at the Doctor who, alongside the loud voice, decided to not disobey what was a very pertinent order. The Doctor followed Yaz as the duo hurried to the bathroom.

Yaz could only internally shake her head as they made their way there. The Doctor was lucky. She’d seen what those Dalek blasts can do. She needed to be more careful sometimes. Ever since the stuff with the Flux, it’s felt like she’s been a lot less careful than she’d usually be. That she’d take more risks than before. She couldn’t figure out why, but she hoped she learned her lesson here.

Her mum would tease her about it, but she would always care so deeply about people she loved. Being so protective of them, making sure everything would be ok as best she could. It was why she became a police officer. She liked protecting and making sure people were ok. Dan and Jericho would protest constantly, but she’d still be the one on watch most nights while they slept.

She took the responsibility of making sure everything went right with the Doctor. She didn’t blame herself for this one, but she still felt it was up to her to get the Doctor’s cut cleaned up. She could do that much at least. ______________________________________________________________

“Hold still, will you?”

“I’m trying, but it hurts.”

Yaz doused another small cup of water over the cut as the Doctor winced in pain once again.

“It will for a bit. Just relax. Surely this isn’t the first time you’ve had to do this.”

“No.”

“So just keep calm. I won’t hurt you.”

Yaz then got a washcloth and, with some soap on it, cleaned up the skin around the cut. She slowly and softly did so, mindful of the Doctor’s yelps of pain earlier.

“Why are you doing this for me?”

“You’re my best friend and my girlfriend. I want to make sure you’re always safe. You deserve as much.”

“No, I don’t. I don’t deserve someone like you.” the Doctor said, her head beginning to droop.

“And who told you that?”

“No one did. I realized it. Look at what you’re doing for me right now.”

Yaz put away the cloth and got out the bandages, ready to close up the cut, content with how it’s been cleaned.

“Well, besides the fact that I’m literally trained to do this, I wanted to do it. Because I know you’d do the same for me. Because we love each other.”

The sentiment pushed the Doctor’s emotions forward, feeling an ever-growing sense of joy, but also sadness. It was always great to hear her use that word, but it only brought back up the realization and the fear of how long this would last. What was coming for her? With those thoughts and feelings at the forefront, the Doctor just blurted it out, not wanting to hide it anymore and increase the potential pain.

“When I... dealt with Swarm and Azure... Time met me. Like the actual manifestation of time. Looked like me too. Well, it took my form..in a really nice coat....But that’s not the point...”

“Then what is the point?”

She cut out a satisfactory piece to cover the cut adequately and placed it onto the Doctor’s back.

“My time is running out, Yaz. I need to beware of the forces that mass against me… And their Master. Whatever that means. I always knew the day would come. No life is forever, but it feels...so soon. I don’t think I’m ready yet...”

Tears pooled in the Doctor’s eyes.

“Yaz... I don’t wanna go.”

She then broke down as her tears hit the floor beneath her. It had been the first time she really let the reality hit her, and it hurt. It hurt so much.

Yaz watched on from behind her, thankful the Doctor couldn’t see her tears either. The Doctor was right, this was never gonna last forever, she knew that too. But she had reached a point where it was something she was at peace with. Having nearly lost her twice, it was a moment she had to prepare for. Knowing it was possibly coming true for real brought some kind of relief. ______________________________________________________________

But it still hurt seeing the Doctor like this. Scared, depressed and confused over what was coming next. She understood all of her pain, and while she could most likely do nothing to prevent the inevitable, she could comfort her right now.

The Doctor’s tears were temporarily stopped by what she felt was an odd sensation on her back. It was hard to describe. It felt good, but weird. As the sensation continued, it became more and more easy to figure it out. It was a pretty simple answer, but the shock over it happening at all was what managed to perplex her.

Yaz’s lips dotted the top of the Doctor’s back, around the area of the cut. She continued her kisses, this time moving to the back of the Doctor’s neck, seeking to reach one particular place. The Doctor could only softly emit sounds of pleasure at it, as it brought about a smile on her face.

Yaz would reach the front of the neck and kept going until she finally reached the Doctor’s lips, as the two shared a relatively long, but lingering kiss. The two finally stared at each other in the eyes, as Yaz continued her mission.

“If the time is coming soon, then so be it. We’ll both face it. You and I, we’re in this battle with each other, not alone. We do this together, or not at all.”

Yaz gave the Doctor a warm smile that she reciprocated, before she wrapped her arms around her in a hug, and the Doctor felt...safe.

One day she won’t be who she is now, but until then she can enjoy this life she has with the person she loves. And when that day comes, she’ll have her at her side.

#thasmin #doctor who #ao3 #fanfic #archive of our own #thirteenth doctor #cute #yaz khan #yasmin khan #13th doctor #hurt/comfort

[regenderate-fic]

Who You Pretend to Be (Who You Are): Chapter 3

Fandom: Doctor Who Ships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Yasmin Khan & Rose Tyler Characters: Thirteenth Doctor, Yasmin Khan, Rose Tyler, Jack Harkness, Dhawan!Master Rating: General Word Count: 4,167 Other Tags: Chameleon Arch, Bad Wolf Rose, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Wolf as Disability, Disabled Character, Reunions

Read on AO3

Summary: The Doctor, escaping a threat, turns herself human, leaving Yaz to look after her. Of course, it gets difficult when the human Doctor, or Penny, immediately thinks Yaz is her girlfriend. And it gets even more difficult when Penny drags Yaz to a lecture by one Rose Tyler-Noble, who’s brought a friend Yaz recognizes. Yaz starts putting the pieces together, befriending Rose along the way.

Written for the Doctor Who Creators Summer Exchange for SpaceBetweenGalaxies.

Rounding the corner into the alleyway where the TARDIS sat, Rose a few steps behind her, Yaz felt the same sense of anxiety mixed with belonging that she always did. It was heightened, today, with Rose there, all those feelings of love and worry and intimidation and care. 

And then she heard a gasp behind her, and she stopped walking, stepping back to let Rose catch up. Rose was standing, stock still, at the mouth of the alley, staring, mouth hanging open, at the TARDIS. Yaz watched as she took a slow step forward, still staring, and said, “It’s different.”

Yaz glanced at the TARDIS: the deep blue wood, the darker blue of the PULL TO OPEN plaque, the glowing POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX lettering. 

“Is it?” she asked. 

“That plaque used to be white,” Rose said. “Think the whole thing was a different shade of blue, too.” She shot Yaz a little smile. “Spent a lot of time in there, back in the day. Wonder if the inside’s changed.”

Yaz thought back to her first moments in the TARDIS— stepping into the shining chrome space as the Doctor said, You’ve redecorated .

“I think it has,” she said. She couldn’t help but smile. “It’s amazing in there. Dormant right now, sort of, ‘cause the Doctor and I aren’t exactly going anywhere. But I can wake it up for you.” She waved Rose closer. “Come on.”

Yaz had a key to the TARDIS perpetually around her neck; she lifted it over her head now and stepped towards the doors, inserting the key into the lock. The TARDIS put up no resistance; it never did, with Yaz. The door popped open easily, and Yaz stepped inside, holding it open so Rose could follow after. 

Rose stepped across the threshold, leaning on her cane as she stared out at the console room. The lights turned on before Yaz even made it to the console, flickering, illuminating the space— the TARDIS was welcoming Rose back.

Yaz loved the design of the console room, with its chrome and glowing crystals and saturated ever-changing light. She'd hoped Rose would too, and she wasn’t disappointed. The second the lights turned on, Rose was frozen in the doorway, staring around with her eyes wide, letting out an amazed exhale.

“She’s beautiful,” she murmured, and Yaz could see, feel , Rose’s connection to the TARDIS. It was familiar, and it was deep , stirring the currents of the air, sparking against Yaz’s skin. Yaz watched as Rose stepped forward, approaching the console, staring up at the central crystal. One of her hands fell onto a switch, and Yaz almost lunged forward, afraid Rose would launch them into the vortex— but Rose just stroked it the same way the Doctor would have, and Yaz understood. 

Rose turned, her eyes catching Yaz’s. She had a soft smile on her face, wonder still in her eyes.

“She’s in my mind,” she said. “I always wondered what it would be like, being back here. Now I know.”

“What do you mean, in your mind?” Yaz asked. “It’s never been in mine. The Doctor always says that’s the only thing stopping me from being a better pilot than her.”

Rose grinned. “As if she could ever pilot this thing.”

Yaz laughed.

“Anyway, it’s sort of a long story.” Rose glanced around. “Can we sit down? Used to be a seat in here.”

“Yeah, we can sit.” Yaz nodded to the steps. “We usually sit on those. Are they all right, or d’you want to find the library or something?”

“Steps are fine,” Rose said. She moved to lower herself onto one of them, and Yaz joined her, angling herself to face Rose. 

Rose closed her eyes, breathing deeply, leaning back.

“Something happened,” she said. “Back when I was traveling with the Doctor.” She opened her eyes, staring up at the domed ceiling. “The Doctor… we were with Jack on this satellite. There were Daleks.” She glanced at Yaz. “Have you met Daleks?”

Yaz nodded.

Rose grimaced. “Was hoping they’d’ve died out by now.”

“No such luck,” Yaz said.

“Right.” Rose stared back up at the ceiling, and Yaz watched as she spoke, slowly, into the air of the console room. “There were Daleks. They were taking over the satellite. There was no way out that wouldn’t kill us all. Me, the Doctor, and Jack.” She was speaking… not quite tonelessly, but distantly, separated from the experience. “Jack went down to the front lines. Died his first death down there. I didn’t find out for years after. And then the Doctor and I were making this thing— this delta wave— and it was going to wipe them out, except it was going to kill us too.” Now her voice was breaking: she looked at Yaz, and Yaz saw tears running down her face. “I didn’t want to go. I wasn’t going to let him send me back. But he tricked me into going into the TARDIS. Little hologram of him popped up, telling me what he’d done. He’d sent me home.”

“But you didn’t stay,” Yaz said. She’d been in this position. She knew what she’d tried to do. If she’d had the means— she would’ve been scouring the universe for the Doctor in a heartbeat.

There was the ghost of a smile on Rose’s face. “No. I didn’t. Lasted maybe a day annoying the hell out of my mum and my ex before I was trying to get back.” She took a shaky breath. “I knew that if I could open the TARDIS console, I’d get to the heart of the TARDIS. And I thought if I could do that, it might help me. The Doctor’d said it was telepathic. Could get into you, change you. We saw it happen.”

“Did it work?” Yaz already knew the answer, but she asked all the same.

“Yeah,” Rose said. “It worked.” She closed her eyes again. “The next bit’s all fuzzy for me. I don’t really remember it. The Doctor told me about it after. But it worked. The TARDIS took me back to the satellite. I manipulated time and space to get rid of the Daleks. I resurrected Jack. Saved the Doctor. But it was going to kill me. I knew it, and so did the Doctor.” Her eyes opened. “That’s the one bit I sort of remember. The Doctor kissing me, to take all that time and space away from me. Into himself. He was so… warm, I think.” She trailed off, lost in the memory, but after a couple seconds she got on track. “Anyway. It would’ve killed me. It did kill the Doctor. He regenerated right after. Grew a whole new body. Only reason I’m still here is the TARDIS went in and changed every part of my biology.” She nodded to the console. “I’m connected to her now. Connected to her, and I can’t die, and she messed with all my tissues.” She lifted her cane. “It’s why I use this. My body’s not super stable anymore. Price I pay for immortality, I guess.”

“Wow.” Yaz stared at the TARDIS console. “Jack mentioned something about that, when we met. But he just said you were the reason he couldn’t die.”

“Yeah.” Rose shook her head. “The Doctor didn’t tell me about that. Livid, I was, when I found out. ‘Course, by then I was in a parallel universe with his clone.” She glanced at Yaz. “That’s another long story.”

Yaz checked her watch. “I’ve still got a few hours before Penny gets home.”

“All right, then. Suppose I’ll tell it.” Rose smiled at her. “You’re good company, Yaz.”

Yaz smiled back. “You’re not half bad yourself.”

“The thing with the clone— his name was John, we called him John— I suppose it’s not that complicated, really, considering. The Doctor was about to regenerate, and he didn’t, and he siphoned off all the energy he would’ve used to regenerate into— well, it was his disembodied hand, which is another long story, really. He cut it off just after regenerating, and he managed to grow it back with the leftover energy.”

“The Doctor’s weird ,” Yaz said fervently.

“Yeah, but you love it,” Rose teased.

Yaz tried not to blush.

“The thing was,” Rose said, back to her story, “all that regeneration energy was bubbling up in the hand, and it sort of… came out. Combined with his friend’s human DNA and created a human version of the Doctor. One heart. Aged.” She glanced at Yaz. “We didn’t find out I wasn’t aging until a few years later. The Doctor stuck us both in this parallel universe. We got married. Lived our lives together. He got old, and then he died. And I found a way back here.”

“To Jack,” Yaz said.

“Yeah, and the Doctor, if I ever came across him.” Rose shrugged. “I tried looking for him. But he's hard to find. And I didn’t know if he’d want me back, or if he’d’ve moved on, or what. But it was nice. Knowing I was in a universe where he also was.”

“I’m sure she’ll want you,” Yaz said, trying to cover the lump in her throat as she said it. Of course the Doctor had someone else— she had three thousand years of being alive. Of course she had someone else. 

Rose looked at Yaz, her eyes seeming to pierce right through Yaz’s skin. “Even if she does. You know she wouldn’t teach just anyone to pilot the TARDIS, don’t you?”

Yaz stared. “What?”

“You said something earlier, about the Doctor saying you’d be better than her if you had telepathy.” Rose shrugged. “I never learned to pilot the TARDIS like that. I could probably do it now, but only because the TARDIS would show me.”

“Oh.” Yaz had never really thought about it before. Of course the Doctor had taught her to pilot the TARDIS— they were best friends. It was something for them to do in their free time. And, of course, they both remembered a wall covered in sticky notes, splashes of color in a sterile white space. “She only taught me because I almost went mad trying to teach myself one time.”

Rose shook her head. “The Doctor loves the TARDIS,” she said. “He’s had the TARDIS longer than he’s had any person. He never lets anyone touch it if he’s not looking. If the Doctor trusts you to pilot—” She cut off. “We'll just say you’ve earned my trust, just with that.”

A warm glow was expanding in Yaz’s chest, filling her throat with hope and tears. “I— she never said. She never tells me anything about herself.”

“Sounds like the Doctor,” Rose said ruefully. “But if she’s letting you pilot the TARDIS— she’s letting you in, in her own way.”

And now Yaz was crying again , silent tears spilling out of her eyes and onto her cheeks. Rose looked over at her.

“You’ll be all right,” she said. “You’ll get her back, yeah?”

“I know,” Yaz said helplessly. “I just miss her. Even when she’s there, sometimes.”

“Yeah.” Rose transferred herself onto Yaz’s step, wrapping an arm around Yaz’s shoulders. Yaz leaned into the touch. She couldn’t help it: she had been dealing with too much pent-up emotion for far too long, and it turned out all it took to release it was a modicum of kindness from someone who understood. To her mortification, her silent tears quickly turned into sobs— but Rose just sat with her, lending her quiet support. 

“Sorry,” Yaz said, as her sobs began to subside. She wiped at her face with her palms. “I didn’t mean to unload on you like that. You’ve probably got loads of more important things to do.”

Rose hesitated. “You’re important,” she said. “I mean, you clearly matter to the Doctor. But beyond that, I mean. My work is just to help people. And I don’t think there are a lot of people in the universe you can talk to about the Doctor, are there?”

“Suppose not.” Yaz sniffled. 

“So, important.” Rose nudged Yaz. “Anyway, I haven’t seen the TARDIS in— eighty years, maybe? I owe you one.”

Yaz laughed wetly. “Yeah, I guess we’re even now.” She glanced at Rose. “It’s going to be really funny when the Doctor comes back and realizes she knew you the whole time.”

“What I wouldn’t give to see that,” Rose said with a smile.

“You might,” Yaz replied, her hand absently landing on her jacket pocket, feeling the Doctor’s pocketwatch through the leather. “I’ll give you a call when I’m getting ready to turn her.” 

“Yeah, all right.” 

They fell into a comfortable silence, staring out at the TARDIS console.

“I’ve missed this place,” Rose said after a while. “Feels like home. Even if you ignore the telepathy.”

“Yeah,” Yaz breathed. “I get what you mean.”

Rose took her time getting home. She and Yaz walked together to the bus stop, exchanging easy words in the near-darkness: Yaz had almost been a stranger at the beginning of the day, but now Rose felt inextricably tied to her. After all, she knew intimately what it was like to fall in love with the Doctor, what it was like to not be sure he loved you back, how it felt to have all of time and space before you and only be able to look at one person. 

They said their goodbyes. Rose gave Yaz a hug as the bus pulled up, and then she got on, sitting with her head jostling against the window as she rode towards her flat. She always loved being out when it was getting dark: it was the best time to think. And Rose really did have a lot to think about.

She hadn’t expected to see the Doctor like this, for one thing. She hadn’t really expected to see him at all. She’d thought, abstractly, that she might see him again one day; their paths would cross, surely, and he’d see Rose, and she wouldn’t recognize him, but he’d recognize her, and they’d reunite. But she hadn’t considered the specifics of that situation, and she had sort of stopped preparing for it. She even more hadn’t prepared for a version of the Doctor who was human, didn’t recognize her, and whose entire memory was in the pocket of someone else’s leather jacket. 

And she really hadn’t prepared for recognizing the Doctor through her companion. 

She liked Yaz, though. Yaz seemed like exactly the sort of person the Doctor usually went for, which was a good thing, as far as Rose was concerned: she seemed competent and caring and intelligent. She knew the TARDIS inside and out, and she was bearing the responsibility of taking care of Penelope surprisingly well, considering everything. 

And then there was the TARDIS— the TARDIS. Rose hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the TARDIS. But stepping inside, she’d felt like she was breathing for the first time in years. A telepathic link had flared in the back of her mind— a link she hadn’t known was there. She’d known, of course, that she was somehow connected to the TARDIS, and that the TARDIS had changed her. But she had also known that she’d never know the true extent of the effects until she got back to the TARDIS, and she hadn’t really thought she’d ever get back to the TARDIS.

It was amazing, seeing it again. Seeing it, and knowing it was part of her now, part of the fabric of her body and her mind. 

The bus pulled up to Rose’s stop, and she disembarked, wandering down the sidewalk. There was a lot she had to think about. But in the meantime, she wondered if she could convince Jack to offer Penelope an internship of some kind. Just to keep in touch.

To Yaz’s relief, Penny wasn’t home when she got back. She walked in the door and immediately made her way to the bedroom, flopping down on the bed in exhaustion. Talking to Rose made her feel better, but it also made everything so much more complicated. Now there was a third person Yaz had to monitor— and a fourth, if she counted Jack.

It was a good thing Rose seemed trustworthy. Yaz wasn’t nearly as worried as she maybe should have been, with a stranger connected to the Doctor showing up in her life: Yaz was in charge of keeping the Doctor hidden in plain sight, and she’d officially failed the mission on some level. Thinking about it now, she was seized with fear— what if Rose was just pretending to be friendly to get to the Doctor? But… no. Yaz had seen Rose’s face when she stepped into the TARDIS. She’d seen the understanding in Rose’s eyes when she was talking about her relationship with the Doctor. 

Yaz’s phone buzzed. She rolled over, propping herself up on her elbows. The messages came in quick succession:

Rose Tyler-Noble: yaz- thoughts on getting jack to offer penelope a job here?

Rose Tyler-Noble: idk what we’d have her doing. nothing 2 hands on, promise

Rose Tyler-Noble: would b an excuse 2 keep in touch with u both

Rose Tyler-Noble: & she seems interested

And that was the other factor. Even if Yaz hadn’t figured out who Rose was, even if she and Rose hadn’t each seen the glimmer of a shared experience in the other’s eye, the Doctor would still be chasing after Rose’s research, trying to learn everything she could about alien life. Because, it seemed, the TARDIS’s defense mechanisms did not themselves have a defense mechanism against the force of nature known as the Doctor, human or not. 

Yaz: Yeah, okay

Yaz: Keep me updated

Yaz: Or I guess Penny probably will

Rose Tyler-Noble: yeah lol

Rose Tyler-Noble: i’ll keep in touch tho xx

Rose Tyler-Noble: & tell me if u need anything 

Yaz smiled. She hoped it wasn’t a horrible idea to trust Rose. She kind of liked having someone to talk to. 

Yaz: Will do

Yaz: Thanks.

Rose Tyler-Noble: ofc

Rose Tyler-Noble: ttyl xx

Yaz: 👋

Yaz switched her phone off and sat up. It was late, and she hadn’t eaten yet— and she didn’t feel like cooking, either. She pulled her jacket back on and walked outside, vaguely in the direction of Penny’s cafe. The air was cool on her face, and the short walk gave her time to try and clear her mind of the Doctor and Rose and Jack and the complex problem of keeping Penny safe. She was never able to completely rid herself of the fear and worry that came with her current position, but she’d gotten pretty good at compartmentalizing, putting the difficult emotions away in a corner of her brain, so that she could go on with what she needed to do. By the time she got to the cafe, she no longer felt like Yaz the Doctor’s companion: she was Yasmin Khan, regular Cardiff resident, here to see her girlfriend and have a bit of tea. 

Penny hadn’t been working at the cafe long, but it was still familiar to Yaz. She’d come around a time or two already, just for fun, and a little bit to see the grin on Penny’s face when she saw Yaz unexpectedly. It reminded her of the Doctor, the way she would look when Yaz wandered through the TARDIS and wound up leaning against the doorway in one room or another, watching as the Doctor worked on an experiment or scribbled on a scrap of paper or tinkered with the console. The Doctor always looked so happy to see Yaz, those times. She missed it. She knew Penny’s affection for her was just the TARDIS finding a way to let her in, but… sometimes she really wished it was real. 

Yaz asked the hostess if she could be seated in Penny’s section. She didn’t expect the hostess’s reaction: her eyes grew wide, and she said, “Oh, my God, are you the girlfriend? We’ve all heard so much about you.”

“Really?” Yaz asked, ignoring the pang of sadness that hit her stomach.

The hostess nodded. “She won’t shut up about you, you know. You’re a lucky woman.”

Yaz smiled, hoping it looked shy rather than pained. “Yeah, I know,” she said. 

“All right, come on, I’ll seat you over here.” The hostess led Yaz over to a table by the kitchen doors and handed her a menu. Yaz thanked her, and she left, leaving Yaz to read the menu alone.

Or, alone, until she heard the doors to the kitchen swing open, and then footsteps, and then Penny’s voice: “Yaz! Hi!”

Yaz looked up, and— yeah. There was the Doctor’s smile, out of place with the cafe uniform of black polo shirt and full-length trousers, frighteningly fitting with Penny’s new short hair. It hit Yaz right in the heart, a warmth blooming in her chest, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hiya,” she said. 

“Right.” Penny pulled a pen from behind her ear and held up her notepad. “Suppose I’d better do my job, hadn’t I? Can I start you off with something to drink?”

“Just water,” Yaz said. 

“Brilliant. Water for Yaz.” Penny grinned again. “Be right back.” 

She disappeared back into the kitchen, and Yaz felt colder for missing her smile. She let herself think, for a moment, about Rose’s suggestion that Penny’s love for her might reflect the Doctor’s. She still didn’t believe it. But she wished she could.

Penny came back moments later with the water. “Any idea what you want to eat?” she asked.

Yaz looked at the menu for another moment. “Fried egg sandwich?”

“Chips with that?”

“Yeah, sure,” Yaz decided. 

“Brilliant. I’ll put in your order.” Penny tucked her pen back behind her ear and disappeared into the kitchen, giving Yaz one last look over her shoulder as she went. Yaz couldn’t stop herself from smiling as the doors swung shut. She tried to imagine the Doctor doing this, working at a cafe to get by— she suppressed a laugh to think of the Doctor waiting tables, probably answering questions like “What’s your favorite thing on the menu?” with “Well, personally I like adding live crickets to the fried egg sandwich,” and then getting restless halfway through her first shift and quitting on the spot. Yaz was impressed Penny was managing to keep the job at all, actually, considering the traits she shared with the Doctor. But she seemed to be adapting marvelously— while waiting for her food, Yaz watched Penny attend to other tables, sweeping across the floor and greeting everyone with a plastered-on grin. She certainly had the charisma for the job, Yaz thought. 

Finally, Penny came out of the kitchen holding two plates. She set one in front of Yaz, and then she sat down across from Yaz with the other, saying, “I knew there was a reason I was saving my break.”

Yaz laughed. “How’s your shift?”

Penny pulled a face. “Boring. They won’t let me add anything new to the menu.” 

“What are you trying to add?” Yaz asked, affection bubbling up inside her.

“I just thought maybe a few of the sandwiches could use some marshmallow fluff!” Penny exclaimed. “It’s like a savory-sweet kind of thing.”

“No offense,” Yaz said, “but there’s a reason I don’t let you cook for me.”

Penny huffed. “How was your day, Yaz?”

“It’s all right.” Yaz scrambled for something to say that wasn’t about spending two hours with Rose Tyler-Noble. “Had a kid come through the museum today dead set on touching every single costume.”

“Is that allowed?” Penny asked.

Yaz shrugged. “Not really. Doesn't tend to stop the really determined ones, though.”

“I’ll bet it doesn’t.” Penny plucked a chip off Yaz’s plate, and Yaz swatted at her hand. 

“Hey. You’ve got your own.”

“Tastes better when it’s yours.”

Yaz rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stop another rush of affection from welling up in her chest and pushing her lips into a smile. “Yeah, all right,” she said fondly. She took a bite of her sandwich, absently glancing around the room. 

That was when she saw it. A familiar face, in the corner of her eye. In a flash, her composure dropped. She whipped her head to the side, her braid swinging behind her, to get a better look. 

“You all right?” Penny asked, her mouth full. 

Yaz looked back at her, suddenly remembering where she was and who she was with and what the stakes were.

“Sorry. Thought I saw someone I knew.” 

Penny frowned. “Who, Oliver? I told you about him. He’s the one who keeps taking my apron from the staff room. Proper annoying, really. He's got his own.”

Yaz glanced over again. Her heart was in her throat, fear seizing her. She knew what she’d seen— and it wasn’t just an annoying waiter. 

She’d recognize the Master anywhere. 

#doctor who #my fic #fanfiction #thirteenth doctor #rose tyler #thirteenrose #thirteen x rose #doctorrose #yasmin khan #thasmin #thirteen x yaz #who you pretend to be (who you are) #chameleon arch #bad wolf as disability #bad wolf rose #angst #reunions

[trampslikeusinthetardis]

Courier's Chronicle, Part II

Despite being very used to the Mojave, Paige still groaned and covered her eyes as she exited Doc Mitchell's house. Pulling her dad's hat down lower, she grimaced and made her way down into town towards Victor's house. She hadn't talked much with the old cowboy Securitron on her past visits, but... well, when it pulls you out of your shallow grave, you make an exception.

"Howdy partner! Might I say you're looking fit as a fiddle!" Victor said excitedly as the courier approached. "Yep, yep, thanks Vic," she replied, holding up one hand and wincing. "Mind turning your volume down just a smidge? Head's still trying to kill me here," she explained.

"Oh, I'm sorry, miss," Victor apologized, quieter than before. "I'm just glad to see you up and about, 'specially after what them varmints did t'ya." The robot rocked back and forth on its wheel, turning slightly to "look", as it were, up towards the graveyard. "If you've come t'ask me about 'em, well, 'fraid I'm not gonna be much help. Outside of one fancypants in a checkered suit and a couple of ruffians with him, I didn't get much of a good look at who they were or where they was goin'."

Paige nodded, sighing deeply. "Welp, anything's better than nothing. But if you'll excuse me, s'not every day you get to inspect your own grave," she quipped, putting on her sunglasses. "Thanks again, Vic. Mean it," she said, before turning and walking off up the hill.

"Happy trails!" Victor called after her, before turning to head deeper into town himself

--------

She never much cared for cemeteries. She got the whole "marking the place someone died", but having a whole spot dedicated to it always felt weird. And as she crested the hill and saw the upended earth, that feeling only intensified. "Welp, let's get this over with," she said to herself, forcing her feet to move towards the grave. The weirdest form of melancholy she'd ever felt washed over her, and for a moment, it honestly felt like something was wrong. Not the whole "here's your own grave" part, although that was weird. No, the fact that she had cheated death in the first place. There were many a time before this where she walked (or limped) away from something she probably shouldn't have, but this was different.

A bloatfly buzzed closer, intent on... well, whatever those weird little fuckers liked to do. Glad for the distraction, Paige pulled her revolver from its holster, pulled the hammer back, and shot the insect before it could launch an attack. The whole motion may not have been as smooth as she was accustomed to, but it was enough to ground her back in reality. Right, let's see if that checkered fuckwad left anything behind, she thought to herself, walking around her own grave. On the left side, there was a very tidy pile of dirt, presumably left behind by Victor. And on the right...

"Fuck, how much does this guy smoke?!?" she remarked aloud, looking at the near half dozen discarded cigarettes on the ground. She bent down and picked one up. OK, well, I don't smoke, but these don't look like normal cigs, so might as well, she thought to herself, before tucking three away into a small leather pouch on her belt.

Standing back up, she thought about her next move. "OK, so that asshole was absolutely from Vegas, probably a Chairman... I could head straight north, either past Sloan or through the back passageway... nah, that cuts through Khan territory. I'd rather not go the long way 'round, past-"

"You always talk to yourself like that?" A voice rang out from behind Paige, and she instinctively jumped and put a hand back on her revolver. "Easy now," Sunny Smiles said, holding up both hands. "Didn't mean to startle you, just wanted to make sure you were doin' OK." The courier took a deep breath and tried her best to relax her body. "Sorry, gonna be a bit jumpy for a while, I figure," she apologized. "In my line of work, it's not uncommon to encounter a lot of life and death situation, but it's rare that you actually get both sides of that coin," Paige quipped.

True to her name, Sunny smiled warmly. "Well, glad to see you're up and about now. How's about we head to the saloon, get you some proper food and company that ain't tryin' to kill ya."

Paige nodded. "That... that sounds-" Her stomach growled loudly, and Sunny tried to stifle a giggle. "Yep yep, that sounds good, let's go before it gets a mind of its own," she said, walking back down the hill with Sunny.

#my oc #Paige Orlowe #fallout: new vegas #new vegas #welp #managed to do a second one #courier's chronicle #WHOOPS IT'S SUPER LONG #AGAIN

[madhuricafe]

Best of the best Bollywood female actresses according to filmfare history. Focus closely on Madhuri Dixit’s column and there’s no need to explain further.

#she is the only one who comes closer to what the khans made #fact #no fiction #Madhuri Dixit #Bollywood #hindi Cinema #indian Cinema #indian film #nutan #vidya balan #priyanka chopra #anushka sharma #rani mukerji #rani mukherjee #kajol #sridevi #alia bhatt #deepika #mumtaz #nargis #aishwarya rai #aishwarya rai bachchan #madhuri dixit nene #karisma kapoor #karisma #smita patil #Rekha #dimple kapadia #waheeda rehman #vyjayanthimala

[hummingbird-of-light]

Against All Odds

Part 113

McCoy

McCoy followed Christine through the halls of the school and upstairs to an alcove with chairs McCoy hadn’t seen before.

“No one comes all the way up here if they don’t have to,” Christine said.

A window looked out over the back of the school and the sports fields.

“I come up here when I miss him. I write my best letters up here.” Christine smiled at McCoy with a touch of melancholy.

“Did you see each other while you were home?” he asked.

Christine shook her head with a sad look. “He’s out of town.”

“Next time then,” McCoy said, trying to cheer her up.

Christine gave a nod. “Ok, so what did I miss? Is Jim back yet? And where is he anyway? Have you heard?”

Had he heard? McCoy made a noise in the back of his throat. Of course he knew, he just wished he knew how it was going to turn out for the blond boy. McCoy lowered his voice.

“He got caught with drugs. But they aren’t his!” McCoy said it fast. Christine’s face had changed to surprise and she had opened her mouth to speak. “Last I knew he was maybe being sent home today.”

“Jim would never!”

“We think someone planted them on him. We went to Pike this morning and told him.”

“Who?” Christine asked. “Who would do that to Jim and how? Why? What did you tell Pike?”

McCoy leaned in closer.

“We saw Khan take something from a secret place at the cabin near the lake. We were hiding in the closet. Scotty confronted him after we heard what happened to Jim. Khan pretty much owned up to it, but threatened Scotty he’d find out who was with him.”

“Wow…” Christine said slowly.

“We had to go to Pike when we heard they were sending Jim away.”

“I hope they don’t. I hope it helps.”

Christine was quiet for a few minutes processing over what McCoy had said.

“How are things between you two? Good weekend otherwise?” she finally asked.

McCoy felt the warmth on his cheeks and it got warmer when Christine grinned at him. He nodded.

“We went to town. It was fun. Except the people who stare, but that’s my whole life isn’t it?” McCoy said the latter part bitterly.

Christine nodded sympathetically.

“Leah called last night. She had a chat with some of the others in the lounge, then with Scotty and me after.” McCoy paused. “We, umm, we said it to each other.” His cheeks got warmer.

Christine’s eyes got wide in understanding.

“Get out! You didn’t!”

“We did,” McCoy couldn’t help but grin.

“Oh that’s so wonderful!” Christine cried. “Congrats I guess.”

McCoy’s heart swelled with joy.

“Thanks,” he said with only a bit of awkwardness. “How was your mom’s birthday?”

There was a buzz in the air when McCoy and Christine returned to the student lounge. They sat down at a table with Sulu and Uhura. The pair were playing a card game. Christine frowned as she looked around the exited room.

“What’s going on in here?” she asked.

“What? Where were you?” Uhura said. “Khan confessed to framing Jim.”

“What?” McCoy choked out. He looked around to see what Scotty’s face could tell him. He didn’t see the other boy anywhere in the lounge. “I’ll be right back,” he said absently and walked over to Jaylah and Keenser.

“Where’s Scotty?”

“He went to find James T.,” Jaylah said, not looking up from their project. “He should be back by now. We need help.”

McCoy frowned. His stomach had just twisted for some reason. Why he felt sudden worry for Scotty he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to ignore it. He turned from the pair and their project and made for the student rooms to find Scotty and maybe Jim.

Part 114

Scotty

Of course. Khan just wanted to talk. That had to be the reason why he had pulled Scotty off to a darkened room for nobody to see.

A shiver ran down Scotty’s spine when he thought about what he knew about Augments. They were ten times stronger than humans. He wouldn’t stand a chance against Khan.

“Well? What do ye wanna talk about then?” Scotty finally got out, holding eye contact with the taller boy.

“I warned you Scotty. I told you I’d find out who was with you at the cabin,” Khan leaned forward to whisper into his ear, “and I did.”

A smug smile found its way onto Scotty’s lips. That was all Khan had to offer? He didn’t have more cards to play?

“So? Ye found out. And now ye will tell everyone? Ooo, I’m so scared.”

Khan furrowed his brows. Scotty had nearly laughed about the confused look on the Augment’s face, but he held it in.

“I wonder what the prince will say if I’ll tell everyone about your little liaison.”

Now Scotty just lost it. A laugh escaped his mouth.

“Liaison?! The hell are ye talking about? We just hid there because Archer told me to stay away from Leonard. He dinnae want us to be friends. Which is all we are.”

Khan didn’t believe him. Scotty could tell by the look on his face. But the Augment also knew that the other students would believe the Scotsman. Especially after the things Khan had confessed to them just now.

Khan nodded his head slowly, realizing that Scotty had the upper hand in this. And he was obviously pissed about it. Still, the Augment smiled.

“See? Ye have nothing against me.”

With that Scotty pushed one of Khan’s arms away to get back to the door, but the older boy quickly blocked his path again and suddenly there was a hand at Scotty’s throat.

“Don’t forget who you are talking to human.”

The hand started to choke him slightly and Scotty coughed.

“Kha-“

But he couldn’t talk. Scotty managed to look up into Khan’s face. There was a crazy look in his eyes.

“I could strangle you to death. I could snap your neck. I could tear out your throat.”

Scotty squeezed his eyes shut when Khan lifted his feet off the ground.

“Or I could do the same to your new friend.”

Leonard. Khan would hurt Leonard! He couldn’t! Leonard was a prince! A royal person!

Scotty shook his head and finally Khan released his throat.

“Or maybe your brother?”

Khan mused about it for a moment.

“Yes, I think he’s a good choice. It won’t make a difference if an unimportant scholarship student would disappear, would it?”

Scotty tried to lung for Khan but the Augment just caught his wrist.

“Tell Pike or anyone else about this talk and he’s dead. Trust me… I wouldn’t even have to do it myself. I know enough people.”

Scotty swallowed hard and nodded.

“Good boy,” Khan acknowledged with a satisfied grin before he left the store room, leaving a scared Scotty behind.

#star trek #montgomery scott #leonard mccoy #scones #au #against all odds #christine chapel #khan #khan is a horrible‚ horrible man

[missgeniality]

Opaline Moon (m)

“The Moon can never breathe, but it can take our breath away with the beauty of its cold, arid orb.” - Munia Khan

➺ Banner: @hobiandsprite​ 💕

➺ Pairing: Seokjin x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Friends to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11.2k

➺ Summary: You are ingrained to love Jin, right upto the blood that courses through your veins. Confessing, however, is a whole other game. So it’s a good thing you’re bad at keeping your hands to yourself, because happenstance can handle the rest. 

➺ Warnings: talks about dance floor fucking, making out in the bar bathroom, fingering, pussy slapping, passing out drunk, daydreams about thigh riding, reader masturbates, they make out A LOT, neck kissing, a hickey, nipple play, some biting, cum eating (kind of, you’ll see), blowjob, protected sex!, reader and jin are corny, the hurt is real but the sex is real-er

➺ Author’s Note: My lovely, lovely moots - @taegularities​, @kithtaehyung​ and @baepsaetan​, thank you so much for betaing this and hyping it up, your comments made this fic a hundred times better! As I mentioned on the teaser, this fic took a lot out of me, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing the angst and will write more whenever the story aligns! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing, and I hope this lovable Jin reaches your heart! (ngl, in usual fashion, I will come back and edit it again, so if you see a spelling mistake, your eyes are lying to you) Do let me know what you think, your asks and comments make my day!

This is the second part of my Dress Down series, find more at it’s masterlist!

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Sweltering heat. Blaring traffic. Little to no sleep. Through all things wrong, one man’s thoughts wrapped around you like a cooling breeze, a shield to protect you from the vicissitudes of reality, to draw you back into all of him. Unfortunately, your reality may never see that day come to light.

Kim Seokjin.

Kim Seokjin, the man who cooked you up a greasy break-up meal at three in the morning with not a sight of discomfort, putting your needs above all.

Kim Seokjin, whose puns make you roll your eyes heavenward, half awed at how he manages to pull one out of his collection at a moment's notice, and half irked by the untimely laugh it brings out of you.

Kim Seokjin, the man who will never be yours, and you have no one to blame but yourself. 

One could argue that the miscommunication that had caused this present condition was two-way. If you had stopped him, corrected him, let him know the truth… you wouldn’t have to resort to the extreme measures you’re currently entangled in. One would also say, you are trying to redeem your mistake by trying too hard. Surely, everyone and their mothers could see through your ruse. 

This is the fourth time you’re visiting Jin for his BE shoot - a shoot taking place two hours away from the city, disguised under various layers of secrecy to prevent any leakage of the album concept, or Jin in general. Of course, you had been made privy to such exclusive information, because you and Jin were ‘best friends’. 

Best. Friends.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Best friends. The term you coined for (and forced upon) the bond you had. The bond that was too close to sprouting into something new, something fresh, something that was filled with glimmering allure and dragged you in like quicksand. But also, it reeked of commitment, of shadows, of newness that you hadn’t felt in the longest time, and fear of already being far too deep in without even taking the first step. 

The loud thrum of some internet kid’s new hit pulses through the air of the club as bundles of couples occupy the dance floor, laughing and gyrating to a song that, in your opinion, most definitely does not suit gyrating. But with enough of the weekend happy hours intake combined with hormone-riddled minds, one could very well throw it back to a church choir. 

You weave through the drunken bodies, trying not to spill the precariously held three drinks in your hands, making your way to your inner circle, the only people to blame for dragging you to this slosh-fest.

“Y/N!” 

Somehow Hoseok’s voice can echo across the club, but you didn’t even need his addressal because Jin’s laughter is loud enough to navigate anyone to your table. Seeing you struggle with the glasses (and mostly the crowd, with some of them living their exhibitionist dreams), Hoseok gets up to assist you.

“I swear, if I see one more couple pretending to be dancing as they rub one off of each other’s thighs, the black market will have my eyes.”

“Oh yeah?” Jin’s breathy voice interjects your black-market dreams, still bursting in short laughs from whatever sent him rolling before your arrival. “Why don’t you go join them?”

“And whose thigh is she taking, yours?” Yeji snorts out, one hand holding her nebula blue drink, the other wrapped around Hoseok, urging him to come closer. Jin’s features scrunch into a cringe, and you’re thankful for the dim lighting because the disappointment in your features does not reach them.

“The only action these leather pants are getting is in the damned laundromat,” he points to his shiny trousers, “some jerk dropped his drink on it.”

“You could be the first person to give some chick an orgasm and a yeast infection.” Hoseok giddily adds, his fifth shot clearly making a mess of his brain cells. 

Jin claps and gets up to move away from the group. “Better than a pregnancy!” he yells, before zigzagging through the crowd, possibly to the restroom. He is on his third cocktail, and you’d think cocktails are lighter drinks. But in this bar, their taps just seem to flow with tequila, and it is very evident in the way Jin is currently walking.

His absence hits you harder than you think, but it might be the alcohol talking. Jin has always been the mood-maker of the group, the one who brings everyone together. Of late though, his magnetic persona has been an irritant in your life. Any outing you two take, any chance you have to come clean about the burgeoning crush you have on him, is effectively disrupted by one of his posse. And today, Hoseok and Yeji took that trophy. 

“Earth to Y/N. Has the cocktail finally broken you?”

You flutter your eyes in a manic fashion, to disperse the daydream you were indulging yourself in, and bring your attention back to the couple calling for you. Surprisingly, they have stood up, Yeji emptying the last of her neon drink. 

“What happened?”

“We are going to the club nearby, they have better stuff. And that’s code for ‘they actually add water to the drink and the surround sound doesn’t shatter your ear drum’.’” 

She isn’t wrong. The cocktails and music here are a 19-year-old frat party dream, not something the working class can digest. But you’re tired at this point, and don’t want to be smothered by someone else’s love life when your own is down the dumps.

“You guys carry on! I’ll tell Jin where you are and he’ll meet you there!”

You watch as Hoseok and Yeji lead each other to the exit, hands circling their partner’s waist. They giggle on and on, about nothing and everything, and it only hardens the emptiness you feel inside you. 

Why can’t you gather the balls to spit your feelings out? What could possibly go wrong? Yes, you may lose one of your closest friends, but is this friendship really worth the agony? The bitterness you feel when you see any couple enjoying themselves? The anger you harbor whenever Jin tells you about his dates? The heartache, when he hugs you and tells you that you’re the best thing that’s happened to him… as a friend? Is it? Your plastered brain tells you to not make any rash decisions, so you don’t, instead choosing to get up and search for your best friend. 

The corridor leading to the washrooms is dimly lit, throwing a merlot filter over your eyesight, making you squint in search of your friend. You being shitfaced does not help, and while relishing in your floating wooziness, you see Jin come out, and feelings you’ve held at bay for so long slither through your currently porous defenses. 

He has always been good-looking. He himself has said so a dozen times.

But wow.

His hair lays messily atop his beautiful face, unkempt, like a breeze of beauty swept across his mighty looks and displaced every strand, causing disarray, but even the disarray only frames his superior looks and adds to its potent charm. The black, patchy sweater hanging loose off his broad shoulders makes you feel things you shouldn’t feel as a friend. That stupid gut of yours is currently screaming, yelling for all hands on deck, trying to block all the feelings from gushing in and sending you into overdrive.

By the time you can gather yourself to stop from giving in to those dangerous thoughts, Jin has crossed the distance between you, coming close, too close. Chocolate-brown eyes peer into your soul, searching for whichever fantasy you chose to lose yourself in. His eyes flit down to notice your rumpled dress that has found its way a couple of inches above its designated spot. His gaze returns to yours, but not without a newfound hardness, an almost steely glaze over the kindness that you usually find in the chocolate pools, accentuated under the garnet lighting. 

“Hey, umm…” You beg for a reprieve, from your thoughts, from your filthy mind, from the way he is eyeing your cleavage, or just for the burning between your legs. You’re about to make some serious mistakes, you can feel it down to your bone.

You’re far too overdressed. 

You knew it when you were in the process of getting dressed, but right now, you feel it much more - you look like a shiny disco ball orbiting amidst the plethora of loose tees, leggings and flannels. Everything screams comfort, because the amount of work they’re putting into this begs for it. 

The strappy lace sundress you wear is extremely out of place, the halter-neck tie behind your neck fastened a little looser than necessary, giving your breasts the exposure they deserve, a nice valley view. Your dress skirt, adorned with pretty frills and dainty flowers, cut across your thigh to frame your petite hips. You are one floppy sun hat away from an extravagant Greek cruise - and in the moment you wish you had one to hide your face in shame. 

You’re just out here, trying to escape the zone. 

“Oh, would you look at the time, it’s tits out Tuesday already?”

Your eyes roll before Sanghoon even finishes his sentence, because you wouldn’t expect anything else from him. On the team of the set design, he is carrying a whole drapery worth of plush, mauve curtains, struggling with the slipping fabric. But apparently not struggling enough to stop him from getting his nose into your business, it seems.

“Literally not even a time you just mentioned. Can’t get one thing right.” You can’t stop yourself from stretching a hand out to feel the curtain fabric, the satiny sheets begging to be touched. Before you can though, Sanghoon moves away, not allowing you to shift the focus of the conversation.

“Don’t steer away from the facts. Your tits.”

“That’s the fact?”

“They’re out.” He bucks up, trying to point with the hand stuffed underneath all the cloth. “That’s the fact.”

“Ugh, can’t a girl dress up once in a while?” The pointed attention makes you uncomfortable, because everything he’s insinuating is true. With every passing staff member, you count a new shade of grey, interspersed with occasional blacks and greens, a stark contrast to your floral overtones. Amidst the thousand footsteps taken in your vicinity, only yours are pointed heels, echoing across the studio with every clack. But you’re a stubborn one, refusing to give in to his totally valid argument. “I just woke up early.”

“Girl.” Like light through frosted glass, he sees through your bullshit, but only partially. “You put an alarm to dress up? I have nightmares of the boss brandishing her whip and telling me to get into position, and even that doesn’t wake me up.” 

“Have you ever considered… not announcing your kinks to everyone and their sisters?”

“Ehh,” he simply shrugs, “nothing is new when you’ve serenaded your boss drunk in a karaoke bar and still managed to keep your job. Wait. Is that highlighter?”

“Stop staring into my tits!” You can’t believe you got caught, but also, who can you blame? After testing this outfit out from the crack of dawn, you decided your cleavage needed some extra help. Three YouTube tutorials and one TikTok lady - who make it look far easier than it is - down, the contouring brought out the swell of your breasts, and against the light fabric of your dress, it does look too good to be true.

Memories of that night in the bar come in billows and waves, of how enamored Jin was with the way your boobs looked at that time. Even under the dingy lighting, in the cramped space, under heavily inebriated scrutiny, you couldn’t miss the flicker of heat in his gaze every time it passed your chest. 

One thing led to another, and it was a cascade none of you could stop. The heat of attraction between you two does not help your wandering mind, and the fever drowns the knowledge that what you’re feeling is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, crossing some lines that can never be mended back again. With the proximity, his musky scent invades whatever defenses you were trying to patch, piercing through all your inhibitions and you pull him into you, claiming his lips to be yours. 

With his wobbly knees and your wobbly heels, you somehow find your way to the washroom - mostly he does, you give in halfway to wrap your legs around his lean waist, his sturdy legs balancing your weight on them as your back hits the wall, and his lips tear down your walls. 

“You look so fucking sexy today,” between bated breaths and indulgent sighs you confess, “just driving me nuts.” Letting your hands drag along his abdomen, feeling the ups and downs of his abs, you attempt to rid him of the sweater that’s been on your hit list all night. But to your dismay, your endeavor is blocked, when Jin gathers your wrists in his palm, turning you around to bend you over on the countertop, the smooth marble chill hitting your braless chest, perking your nipples under the cold. 

“And you?” Jin bends to give your earlobe a languid lick, progressing very slow, a complete contrast to the movement of his hips as he ruts against your ass, your already short dress bunching up with every move. “You think it’s smart to have your tits torment me like this?” Grabbing a handful from behind, he tests the weight of each fleshy mound, and by now you are certain your perked nubs can pierce his palm. 

His free hand, not yet torturing you, decides to get in on the action and disappears under the counter, swiftly crossing the bunched fabric of your dress, gaining easy access to your pussy. The cold touch of his pads sears against the heat of your core, finding your pleasure button and languidly fiddling with it, with no intention to cross you over the brink in sight. The only pleasure you can indulge in is the reflection of him abusing your nipples, pinching and tugging them down, whispering filthy words into your ear as he takes in your fucked out countenance. 

You feel lacking, weak hands balancing your dizzy self, finding purchase to keep you upright - but you’re both drunk on alcohol and hypnotized by his beauty to do much more than stare at his mirrored counterpart. “For fuck’s sake, kiss me.” 

How he understood your slurred words, you don’t know, but you are glad he did. In a moment you’ve been displaced, the hurried motion sending your neurons into a flurry. Once your back meets the hard marble, and your eyes have the privilege to see his, you pull him in closer, the force enough to hold you against the wall while your legs wrap around his lean waist. 

Originally not a fan of drunken misadventures, that side of yours is strangely mute to the going current onslaught. Well, you don’t have much breath left to say anything, because Jin is efficiently stealing it all, his teeth clashing with yours as you engage in the messiest kiss ever known to mankind (or at least, to you). He changes pace often, dragging his tongue leisurely against your lower lip, conveying tacit words, just to switch it up with a sharp bite and reel you in. 

One corner of your senses can feel his fingers messing around your cunt, and playing with the wetness your thong can barely contain. It makes you shudder, the damage that his fingers can cause solely circling around your hole. 

“Fuck me.” 

In your drunken stupor, you don’t know if the words leave you right, but you get confirmation when his long fingers finally penetrate your cunt, giving your walls something to clench on - although nothing could possibly compare to what you imagine you can get from his dick.

“God, you feel that grip,” he grunts, with two of his fingers in you, and Jin’s smile is the most sinister you’ve ever seen. “I think we should take this home,” is what his lips utter, but his fingers delve deeper, searching for the spot that crumbles you. The base of his palm grinds against your throbbing clit, and you are forced to bite down on this sweater, lest an embarrassingly loud moan escapes you and cues outsiders into your filthy doings. 

“Now,” you half-hiss, half-growl as you grab the cusp of his legs to feel his half-hard erection grow under the pressure of your hand. Your palm sliters up just to go down again, this time without the blockade of his pants, but you are stopped short of success when Jin’s fingers slip out of you to give you a sharp swat. 

“Stubborn, aren’t we? Can’t fucking wait,” he whispers into your ear, and as he envelops your lobe with his cushiony lips, he continues, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

No, no, no. 

Your brain rejects logic, chews and spits it out before any of the rationale seeps into you. You have wanted this for far too long. The need inside you for a meaningful relationship materializes in the form of recklessness, desperately looking for surface-level relief for the moment. A night of sewing sutures to your battle-worn heart, stitches that may come off at the slightest strain - but right now, that will do. 

“Please, Jin,” your tantalizing tone riles up his cock again, eagerly waiting for your next words, “can’t you feel me dripping? Come on, I can take you.”

“Fuck, hear that wetness.” He lets his palm slap against your sopping entrance, not stopping with one. With every slap, droplets of your arousal splash out, the insides of your thighs coated in the sticky sweetness, but your body is an endless reservoir producing plentiful more for Jin to play with. “Have you been sitting with this all this time?”

Two long fingers invade your channel again, leaving you with no response other than a gasp. They scissor incessantly, preparing you for what could be the railing of your lifetime. One curl inside and his fingertips hit the spot he was looking for, making you warp your body to take the pleasure coursing through your veins. His tongue seems to mimic the actions, looping around your earlobe as he sucks it inside, both ends of your body engulfed in all the attention he could provide. 

Your cunt is weeping against the assault of this man’s hands, tears of your cum flowing down your legs with every pump of his arm. You are getting there, the sweet swell of release inching closer and closer.

But something doesn’t feel right.

The tightness in your belly, that is to a point caused by Jin, is harboring other sensations that are not entirely pleasant. Maybe you’re anxious about the happenings. Maybe you haven’t had a good orgasm in a while and have just forgotten how this thing works.

Or maybe, the bar should have the water tap actually give out water.

Either your eyes close, or your brain does, but suddenly all you can see is darkness.

 Again, you are just trying to escape the zone.

“Step under those studio lights,” pointing at the too-bright stage lights being set up at the moment, Sanghoon continues, breaking your daydream, “I bet you could signal to aliens with the booby-reflection. Call them to Netflix and chill.”

“In about five seconds, my heel will be puncturing your eye. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” 

Sanghoon’s drivel was cut short, and so were your murder plans, with his entry. “Oh look, he’s on set. Gotta go!” 

It’s like the lights, earlier threatening to burn away your skin, dim down in reverence of the glow of his face. The twinkle of his eyes when they meet yours. The shine of his smile when he throws you one. The vibrance of his tone when he calls out your name. Everything he does now threatens to burn you whole and it’s a wonder you’re not scalding, but the singe hurts you deep inside.

“Y/N! How do I look?” It’s a bathrobe. Like satin, or silk. Fucking hell, your brain could explode with the adjectives coming up, a whole chunk of them very much inappropriate to utter out in the current scene. Your arms want to rise, engulf him into you, and you have to physically halt the muscles from doing anything stupid. Brain, quick! Say something snarky and spicy, as best friends do!

“What’s the theme, unicorn puke?” The safest way to deflect is to attack. So you do just that. “You look like you dressed out of Hannah Montana’s closet. Which if it's true, I really need to see it. There’s a top that I’ve been eyeing for decades!”

“Don’t say decades.” Jin’s eyes crinkle in humor. “Makes me feel so old. Your dress is pretty cool too!” 

Cool.

You find out how difficult life can be when you count every single minute of yours. So far, you have counted 4,310 minutes. That is two days, twenty-three hours, and fifty minutes. Ten more minutes and it will be three whole days since you and Jin spoke. 

Yet again, you can’t blame him. When you came to the next day, you were in your bed, clad in the same shimmering silver bodycon that you had donned last night. The same one that had been privy to the colorful deeds you had committed in what was a dreary, colorless setting. 

One ibuProfen and ginger ale, downed with some severe recollections of the previous night, and you had been ready to throw it all up again. 

I don’t want to hurt you.

Words couldn’t describe what you were going through, and numbers weren’t invented to count the endless thoughts racing in your brain. You don’t know what is more upsetting. The fact that you actually had a chance to open your heart and you totally let your pussy think instead? Or that he was the one coherent enough to stop you from getting too far, and you let your desperation get the best of you? Everything about that night was wrong. And all the wrongs lie on your side. 

I don’t want to hurt you.

In the moment, it was physical, he had to have meant that. But there was a tremor in his voice, you can remember clear as day, a slightly shaken side of him had emerged through the intoxication, and the words he had breathed were not shallow. There was a gravity to them, that you’d stupidly ignored in the heat of the moment.

And now, here you are. Counting up till the last minute, after which you can effectively call the friendship ruined. Stirring your tea mindlessly, you try to focus on the show on TV, the variety show comedy not striking the usual funny bones that they could 4,311 minutes ago. 

The programmed ding of your phone bursts your thought bubble, a sound you have missed the past 72 hours. The ring you dedicated to Jin, that always had you running to receive because anything he sends brightens your day. But unlike those happier times, this ring has your gut fall into a pit of despair, struggling to choose between dispersing the suspense or remaining blissfully unaware of the damage you caused.

Jin: Free tmrw? We could grab coffee Jin: And talk

Talk. How? You barely remember what went down, save for fleeting moments that you recollected with great difficulty. Your fingers type back, trying to mimic the nonchalance in his text, that is very much absent in your actual demeanor.

Y/N: Sure. Paik’s at 1? Jin: Yup. See ya

Three texts, zero laughs. Of course, you’re not expecting him to land his jokes in this situation, even someone as talented as he can’t flip this tension. You’re just going to have to wait for tomorrow, when he decides whether you have a place in his life or not. 

The painstakingly worn outfit, accessorizing the whole look, the straps of your heels digging into your toes, the specks of makeup dust lying stale on your collar bones, the shine faints at that word. Cool. A perfectly normal phrase for a normal friendship. You are left maimed, while he absent-mindedly tends to the rope of his robe, blissfully unaware of the cyclonic emotions churning inside you. All you can possibly do is gulp it down. 

He runs his hands through his hair, beautiful locks coming out of place, and from one corner of the set, a groan of anguish emerges. 

“Oppa! Don’t play with your hair and face.” A masked lady runs forward waving combs that look like artillery, “We just got done setting it!”

Some finger guns, a happy apology, and some silly jokes later, all the stylists merrily round up to undo his doing, and Jin signals to you to catch up later. And as he walks away, the strings tugging at your heart reappear, as they do every time you come to meet him.

You have a masochistic streak in you, putting yourself through this every day, when he had made it clear, that you two never stood a chance. 

As if things aren’t already difficult, he looks like a dream. 

Soft, snowy skin gleaming like it has personal lighting wherever it goes, you get flashes of the rarely witnessed sweat on his skin, from the ferocity of last night. He’s blowing away the foam of his cappuccino, and tiny bubbles float into the air before falling flat on the table, like an animated shine that follows him along. God has His favorites, and God makes sure all the lighting in the world is perfect for these favorites. 

In no hurry, you wait at the counter to get your latte. After receiving it though, you can’t linger any longer and drag yourself to the table of doom.

“Hey.”

If the rasp in your voice is evident, he doesn’t show any recognition on his face. But you’ve learned to never trust an acting major. 

“Hi. How are you doing?”

Inadvertently, a snicker escapes your lips. “Are you interviewing me for a job?” you joke, trying to disperse the heavy air, filled with unspoken words. “If so, at least know that I’m very expensive.”

The familiar windshield wiper laugh does not greet you. Dead silence does. The half-smirk he painfully gives you is heavy, and the furrowed brows haven’t an inkling of joy. It shoots daggers in your heart, to know that you are the reason for this jolly man’s despondency. 

“Listen, I don’t think we should skirt around the issue too much. It happened, these things happen. You think Hoseok and Yeji didn’t have sex before making it official?”

His matter-of-fact nature isn’t new to you. Jin has always been a very practical man. Regardless of his inane sense of humor, his logical point of view has always been flawless. 

But right now, at this very moment, logic isn’t what you are looking for. You are looking for answers, but as far withdrawn from logic as possible, to take the edge off of the tension-laden air that surrounds your table.

“Yeah, but even… unofficially… we aren’t a thing, right?” 

Your abrupt question takes Jin unaware, almond eyes widening, like a toddler caught in an act. 

“No, no! Of course not! I would never!” 

His confession slips out with an ease that hurts you, digs deep to carve out the part of you that dreamt of anything more. Your eyes fall to your knees to avoid his perceptive gaze, the sting clear as the sky on a summer day. 

You force a smile and continue. “Then there’s no issue. Anyway,” you gulp your coffee down, burning your throat, but it's a distraction from the burning inside, “I need to get to work. Anything else?”

He’s still searching you, for what, you can’t possibly fathom. From the looks of it, he should be happy with this homeostasis; he doesn’t even know what this means for you. To still stay suspended in limbo, not being able to move up or down, to continue having thorns digging into your beating soul as you watch him like nothing bothers your already frail feelings. Scene by scene, you can visualize the future, him distancing himself from you as he finds the one he calls his, with you left in the shadows. Your knees tremble in fear of the impending future.

Seeing you in a tizzy, he calls out, the voice too loud for the cafe and your mind’s prison cage. 

“We’re still best friends, right?” If you knew better, you’d say his expression is that of sadness, of regret. But your judgment is clouded with your own bothers, and you interpret it as a look of pity. Like a lovesick puppy, kicked to the streets, with nowhere to call home. 

“Yeah! Always.” You give it as much enthusiasm as you can muster. 

Best friends.

Ropes wind around your heart, tugging and causing the deep ache that sets in as you walk back into your dreary building. Each string pulls you into a different dimension where you could move on, where you could be okay with the setting you had just agreed to. Where you would keep up your end of the promise and truly remain friends with him.

But no matter how strong the tug, your heart never yields, never lets go of the castle of dreams you built, staying steadfast in its own misery, choosing to hope, choosing to live the life of unrequited love.

“And that’s a wrap! Good job everyone!”

Applause and hurrays echo across the set to bring you back to the present. The shoot has officially concluded, which means it's time for your most favorite and least favorite part of the day - Jin and you doing best friend things, like grabbing lunch, gossiping about obnoxious coworkers, threatening to disembowel each other (in Mortal Kombat, of course) and other friendly activities. 

Ever so respectful, Jin takes his time thanking every member of the set, regardless of whether they moved a cushion or held the reflector screen for hours. All the women gush over his beauty, reminding him of how, even amidst the glowing ornaments, his face was the brightest. His responses vary, from quiet little giggles, to complimenting the crew for making it happen, to straight up owning his charisma like a boss. That’s your man. 

Well, not quite. Not one bit.

After exhausting the handshakes and hugs to be received, Jin walks to you, hands pushing his robe back to give it a cape like effect. You’re just glad that the man’s child persona still stays with him, no matter the situation.  He guides you to his green room, cracking his bones on the way, (very sexily, might you add).

“Holding a pose for that long gives me cramps! You’d think dancing breaks my back, and you’d be wrong.”

You’re desperately avoiding looking at his fingers, and keep your eyes below them - shoot! His ceaseless stretching gives you a glimpse under his shirt - it is dragging your memories back to the last time you saw them, and you’d rather not. It is hurting you in more ways than one. 

Eye contact is your safest bet. Looking up, you give him a lopsided grin. “Your grandfatherly days are approaching, Jinnie.” 

“Hey!” 

The rest of the conversation was less speaking, more yelling and chasing after each other to the green room, Jin taking mock-offence at your jab at his age, and his fingers reaching out to flick your forehead in retort. In your noisy, messy fashion, you both finally enter the room, dim gold light bulbs and shiny mirrors meeting your huffing self. 

One hand on your knee, you hold on to Jin’s arm with your other, gasping for breath. 

“Your grandmotherly days are already here, Y/N,” he snorts, and earns a kick on the shin, but that doesn’t stop him from bursting into snickers.

“Wow, why does one man need 4 mirrors?” You gape at his current green room, mouth wide open. It looks better than your entire apartment, with the counter carrying top-of-the-line makeup products. Only the best for this man. “So you can admire yourself from 4 different angles?”

Jin has disappeared into one of the inner rooms, but you can hear him snort at your comment. “Come on, I’m not that conceited. When the whole crew shoots together, the extra mirrors help.” The last part of that sentence is muffled, and that cues you into an important fact. 

Jin is currently changing into something more comfortable.

A process that includes him getting naked.

Well maybe he doesn’t get fully naked, top on, top off, bottom on, bottom of-

Still. You’re sweating like a whore in church. 

And things only get tougher when he finally comes out. 

The ocean blue sweater he dons is tucked in. Who tucks in sweaters? Kim Seokjin. Why does he tuck sweaters? Oh, because he’s got an amazing waistline that he should most definitely show off, and the heat between your thighs becoming increasingly potent is a testament to that. You pretend to adjust your heels, giving the right expressions to show you’re in pain, but in actuality you are bringing your legs closer to get you some relief, just any relief. 

Ripped jeans too. You get a peek of the thighs you were denied access to the night of the fuckening. Ridged and beautiful, not a speck in sight to mar his perfection. You are glad the facial expressions for pain and pleasure are not far apart, because your thighs, albeit very lacking, are helping the imagery in your head. Just Jin, seated on one of these leather chairs, and you straddling his thigh, clit aching against the strands of the rips in his denim, the fabric soaking up the wetness, with every push forwa-

“Now that you mention it, I do look dashing.”

And there goes that dream. 

You pinch his cheeks in adoration, the vulgarity of your thoughts getting whitewashed by his silliness and blooming heart-shaped flowers in their stance. You feel your own pinch in you, wondering if this scene would be the same had you blurted your feelings out that day at the cafe.

It's times like these when you remind yourself why you choose to quieten that side. This dynamic cannot reincarnate in any other form. Any imbalance to this equilibrium could cause a serious case of best-friends-turn-awkward-acquaintances, and you don’t know if that’ll hurt you more than you currently do. You don’t plan on finding out.

But on God, he tests that resolution every single day.

Jin doesn’t even hint that he knows of the turmoil blasting behind your eyes. He nonchalantly fixes his hair, gives you a one-over as you are mentally undressing him, nonchalantly as well. Then he moves to grab his cologne, and two spurts disintegrates all the whitewashing and takes you back into the obscenities you were unfolding. 

“So I’ll just go over the shoot photos, and then we can leave! You’re cool waiting here?”

“Hmmn, yeah!” You don’t let your mouth run any longer, fearing what might slip out. 

He gives you a wide, innocent smile. “Great! See you in a bit.” Poor guy. If only he knew how debase plans you were conjuring just from the aroma of his cologne. 

It is musky, like cedar or pine, perfectly suiting him. It is the same scent you remember inhaling, face stuffed in his sweater when he was fingering you to the tenth circle of hell. As he walks away, the fragrance diminishes, save for the slightest hint of lingering. You search for the source, and find the culprit strewn across the sofa.

The outfit Jin wore for the shoot held remnants of the perfume, and when you bring the shirt close and take a long, deep whiff, you transport yourself to the land of your dreams. You relish the fever smell of his cologne, mixed with his own natural scent, deciding that this is what you wish to smell like every waking morning.

Your longing for him has crossed way beyond physical boundaries. You longed for his love, longed for his attention. Longed to be the one that brings the light to his face. From morning rays to the darkness of the night, you wanted to experience it all by his side. To be his lone star, shining bright beside the moon. 

Your hands are moving without your control, disrobing you of your thirst trap of a dress and putting on Jin’s shirt instead. One look at the mirror and you let out a silent groan - it fits you just right. Just enough to cover your ass cheeks, loose enough to let the air conditioning hit your heated pussy. While well-fitting shirts have never been the cornerstone of a successful relationship, your delusional mind takes whatever wins it gets.

Adding layers to your pipe dream, you don the robe that gave you a tough time throughout the shoot. When you press the tails of the robe to your cheek, the softness of the material is soothing. Soft, like Jin’s eyes, like his hugs, like his smile. Like him.

Leaning against the counter, you steady yourself, mind split in titillation. Your fingers find their own path, drawing circles on your breasts over his shirt, imagining Jin’s long fingers in place. While teasing your nipple to pointed peaks, you slip your other hand under your panties, trying very hard to mimic his digits, twiddling your clit between your fingers. Alas, the effect isn’t achievable, because Jin seems to know how to play you better than yourself. 

The scent is getting stronger, without any provoking, and it is doing wonders for your immersion. You let out a loud moan when your fingers press inside, and you’re just glad no one can witness this.

“Y-Y/N?”

Fuck.

You are pulled away from your dreamland that was so impenetrable that you didn’t hear Jin step into the room. All the blood gushing to your nether regions has made a U-turn to flood your brain to think of a plausible explanation for this position. Instead it makes you giddy, and when you try to stand you wobble in your heels, to be rescued by what you think is a very scandalized Jin. 

Time stands still when your eyes meet, and what you see are blown out pupils trembling, many questions fluttering between you two. Jin crosses a tenth of the distance between you, lips flutter as they try to make a decision - do they want to part and give way to the voice of question? The voice of reason? The voice that will break this hush, burst this bubble where he has the one chance to give in to his longing?

You bring your lips closer, and cause immense disquiet in his dome, the way of his heart gathering speed against rationale. Your eyes dance between matching his gaze and finding his lips, every fraction of an inch you cross sending tremors through you. You can feel the shockwaves traverse through your body, making a pitstop at your lips, tingling them awake. They move downwards, passing your heart, beating it wildly against its cage, and then to the pit of your stomach to tighten in anticipation; finally reaching the tip of your toes, where you stand right now, a nanoscopic distance between you. Each one of you is afraid to cross the bridge, unaware of the other’s desires. 

Finally, Jin acqueises and meets you on your side. 

Atomic explosions ring through your head, clearing out every single thought that is not about Jin’s lips on yours. The ropes that held your heart from beating to the tune of your want, they’ve loosened their knots to give you the leeway to love freely. As your lips exchange positions, his teeth lightly drag across your plush petal, and it brings back the most important part of that night that you couldn’t recollect - the one where his lips sang wordless songs of adoration against yours. Blind as a bat, you were.

You dig your fingers into his hair, not minding your residual arousal coating his locks, and you feel his hands doing the same to you. With your eyes closed, you feel a rough edge to his cushiony soft lips, but Jin fixes that mistake - one stray strand of hair trapped in the middle of your indulgence - he pulls it away to give you all of the kiss. The hand tucked in your tresses pushes in, silently demanding more access, and you’re nothing but ready to give it.  

His tongue sneaks in to play a game with yours - when you seek it, it goes into hiding, finding perfect pleasure in soft, sweet kisses, but when you stay, it comes back in, awakening your tongue to deepen again. Everything he is doing is too much and not enough in one go, and you whine into his mouth in desperation, seeking some well-earned relief after months of holding back.

Amidst the flurry of your lips, your back hits the vanity countertop, and Jin pushes away everything on top to make space for you, not caring what expensive item flies down the counter to accommodate your ass.

As if you’ve made up for the months of holding back, the softness of the kisses erodes, teeth coming into play more and more, reminiscent of the night that went by in a blur. He swallows every mewl you give in return, blissed out beyond repair, your neediness making his cock strain against the denim. 

His hand snakes down, spreading his fingers to get a hold of your back to push you towards him, covering any gap that dared to intervene. Now unworried about the shoot, your hands have effectively ruined his perfectly placed locks and messed them up to resemble the craze he let you spin in.

Before he can glide his tongue back in, you break the kiss, lest you lose yourself in it to the point where you forget to breathe. With attached foreheads, you take deep drags of air, letting the oxygen flow to your brain before you make some ill-advised, unclarified decisions.

“I- I was jus-”

“Shhh. Wait,” he breathes out, wanting to take a second and fully savor the moment. You nod in return, making his head move along with yours.

After sufficient air fills his lungs, Jin starts. “Y/N, we should stop.”

Last time this had happened, you had tried to force your way through his barrier, without giving his feelings a second of consideration. So this time, you don’t repeat your mistakes. “Tell me why.”

“Because, I don’t know what you’re looking for, but I’m way deeper in this than you think.”

“Jin, I-”

“Let me finish.” He stops you before you can explain how much you reflect his emotions, possibly more. He doesn’t seem to want to listen now. “Let me finish, or else I’ll chicken out, for the millionth time.”

You’re dumbfounded. Millionth time? When was the first? Acting majors, by God. 

“I love you, Y/N.”

No, now you are dumbfounded. Your hands, holding his precious locks, drop down in shock, at sheer disbelief that all this time, he has been ready and waiting to return you the favor. Jin though, misinterprets it as a look of disdain. 

“I-I know I do, and I’m sorry that I do. I know you don’t feel the same way. You can hate me all you want, but this is the truth.”

“And yes,” he continues, refusing to halt for even half a second, afraid that the courage he mustered to confess would dissipate the moment he does, “I’m attracted to you, and I don’t know what went down here --” flicking his wrist to mention your (his) outfit, “--but I’m looking, okay? And I’m hard as fuck. But that’s not all there is to it.”

“I need all of you.” He takes an audible gulp, trying to stymy his emotions from overpowering him. “I want to take you out, I want to hold you hand, I want to bring you to all the places I love. I want to introduce you to people, not as my best friend, but so much more than that. It hurts me,” bringing his hand to his chest, he emphasizes the point of pain by clutching over his heart, “hurts to call you that because I’m lying through my fucking teeth.”

You break eye contact, because there are tears smarting your eyes at his heartfelt revelation. You can’t believe the idiot that you have been all this while. The man of your dreams stands in front of you, baring his soul, and you can’t even do him the decency of telling him what you felt yourself before jumping his bones.

And you love him, too. Maybe you haven’t said so, even to yourself, but you’ve known all this while.

You love him.

“If you are just looking for a fuck, or want any sort of a ‘benefits’ situation, we should stop. I can’t lie to myself anymore.”

“Jin, my God,” you half-sigh, half-laugh, feeling a burden lift off of you after months of pining.

“You don’t have to pacify me, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” Even in this moment, he is looking out for you. His lips are curved upward to show you that he’s okay, but his pupils are shaky and restless, not in sync with his smile. You hope your next words can fix that for him.

“Pacify you? Hate you?” You shoot him an incredulous look, one you will explain to him very soon. “You are a much better person than I am, Jinnie. For months now, I’ve loved you, but even at this point, I didn’t stop to tell you.” The guilt of letting your hormones cloud your judgement for the second time lays heavily on your conscience. “I’m sorry for not making this clear earlier, but let me now. I love you, Kim Seokjin. I have for way too long. I want you, I need you. You have me, in every possible way.”

It feels unparalleled to get that off your chest. The leaden weight of your emotions immediately disappears - or the fact that it's shared, makes it much, much lighter. But then you look at Jin, and he still seems to have not put two and two together. You patiently wait for him to process all the information. 

When he finally recoups, he yells, “What?!”

You let out a loud guffaw, the first one with no inhibitions in the longest time. “What?”

“Why didn’t you say anything that day at the cafe?!” 

“You said you’d never date me, asshole!” You punch his chest softly, before slipping your hands behind him and pulling him closer. “I might not look like it, but I have some dignity.”

“I said that?” Jin brings one hand to pinch his nose in annoyance. “What an idiot. I think I was just inverting everything to make sure I don’t accidentally slip up.”

You lift your head to meet his eyes again, letting him see the tears you were hiding. You find a couple in his eyes, too. But the smile on your face is genuine, and that is all that matters. “I was blind too, so don’t beat yourself up about it.” 

Flitting your eyes down to find the contour of his cock against his jeans, you ask him innocently, “How about we make up for lost time?”

“Fuck, yes, please.” And with that, your lips are engulfed again.

When you have all your guards down, the kiss tastes sweeter than before. Mere moments ago, while thoroughly enjoying the kiss, a sense of reticence had clouded your pleasure, holding you back from luxuriating in the headiness. A series of what-ifs had plagued your subconscious without your realization, but with all that cleared, you wholly submit to the kiss, emptying your mind until nothing but his name remains.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Jin gasps out, when you bite into his pillowy lower lip, “I thought you looked the prettiest in the dress earlier but,” after pulling away, he drinks your current attire in, “you look the most beautiful in this.”

You snicker. “Even more than World Wide Handsome?”

His eyes bore into yours, no hint of the joking lilt he always carries in them. 

“So much more.”

Your hands find their place amidst his shaggy hair again, and you lodge his face into your neck - a command Jin acquiesces to with great pleasure. After a long, wet lick to your collarbone, he lays feather-soft kisses on the trail he left, starting from your shoulder and working inward, until he brushes against the back of your ear. You grasp at his sweater, because his lips feel so good. Your breaths are short, sucking in every time he allows your skin the luxury of a soft peck.  Once he lays a kiss on your forehead, he brings his gaze down to one of the main reasons that causes his cock to stir.

“Fuck, look at your nipples under my shirt.”

Gazing down, you can see the two pointed peaks that caught Jin’s eyes. 

“That tends to happen when I’m thinking of you.” 

He twists a nipple over the shirt, hardening it further, and you throw your head back in the satisfying pain. “Yeah, I remember.”

You are unraveling every second, the ache swishing amongst the bliss his fingers are bringing in you. He’s switched over to drawing circles around your nipple, until he snaps and tugs your shirt up, finally revealing the palmfulls of flesh awaiting his hands. 

“Ah that night, I didn’t get to do this. Take this off.” But then, he makes you put on his robe again. You throw him a questioning look, to which he responds with a sheepish smile, “Just so, you know… you don’t feel cold… or something.”

“Just say you like me in your clothes and move on.”

“I love you in my clothes,” he admits in a heartbeat, his expression that of anguish, “can we move on?”

“God, gladly.”

Unexpectedly, he bites the side of your boob - not hard at all, but feeling his teeth against your skin sends your head reeling backward. Your involuntary response is to wrap your legs around his waist, grinding your core against him. His teeth continue to nip you lightly across the expanse of your breasts, the trail of saliva he leaves cooling parts of your flushed body. Finally, finally, he latches onto your left nipple and gives it a long, pleasurable suck.

“Ahh, Jin - you’re too - God damn it - you’re too good at this.” 

Without stopping the onslaught he is unleashing on your breasts, his fingers begin to move - but soon, they stop, hesitation rippling off of their tips. His pace falters, and his mind is fighting on the next course of action.

“Can I-”

“Finish what you started that night?” you complete for him, already prepared with your answer. “Yes, please.”

All forms of uncertainty shoot out of his touch, and he confidently trudges forward. Playing with the band of your panties, he gives you a well-intended chuckle, murmuring, “As far as I remember, I was so good you passed out.”

“Boy,” You groan, intended in jest, but his teeth slide against your jaw and it mostly comes out more wanton than jovial, “let me see you have tequila for dinner and remember much the next day.”

“Fair fair,” he gives in, shifting to buss the valley of your cleavage, feeling your heart thud against your ribs holding it in place. “Well today,” he starts without moving his face, his nimble fingers moving past the barrier of your underwear, pressing two fingertips directly on your clit, and hissing like it's him at the receiving end, “I’ll give you enough to remember.”

You pull his sweater off and chuck it away, not wanting to be reminded of any blockades that kept you apart, and your hands roam the expanse of his back remembering the touch of his skin from the night at the bar. His body isn’t new to you, but the circumstances make it feel different. 

Finally, his fingers find their way inside you. 

Yes, this. This was what was missing from your drunken tryst. With your heads in place, your ardor intensifies, and you move his lips back to yours needing to release your animalistic desire into his mouth. Pleasure surges through both of you as you threaten to swallow him whole.

You can feel him being more present, and considering the merciless finger-fucking you had earned that night, this is taking it to a whole other degree. 

The night at the bar, his fingers did their best to ravish you, but now, Jin is paying attention, close attention to the way you respond. Every muscle movement is recorded in him as you struggle to accommodate three of his lengthy digits. Leaning close, he gives your peaked nipple the lightest feather lick - the suddenness sends shockwaves through you as he continues to tweeze the other, talented pianist hands performing his musical piece on both ends of you.

His fingers pump into you with determination, finding new depths to explore that he missed out on, and with a curl of his pointer, you blank out, screaming in the orgasm that is washing over you. Every skincell of your body feels the quiver of lust spreading, your cunt squeezing for an eternity, milking the orgasm out to the extent that you can. 

When you look down, your metaphorical orgasmic flood manifestes as a deluge of your arousal leaking on the table. And when you look back up, you can see the salacious ideas making their rounds in Jin’s head as he looks at the inundation you released. 

Hurried hands still convulsing from the intensity of your orgasm, you undo his belt, followed by his jeans and finally - getting the pleasure you were heartlessly denied of - his cock is out, in all its glory, twitching as the cool air hits its naked skin. Jin’s plans don’t go hand in hand with yours though.

“Are we just - holy fucking shit - just, umm, leave that to waste?” he lustfully looks down to your leaking core, and someway, through your hold on his dick, he tries to steer you into his plans.

“I don’t know about that,” you cheekily reply. You have the right idea to satisfy both of you, and get down to the task.

With the flat of your palm, you swipe across the droplets of cum you released, gathering them to transfer them onto his thick length. Jin thrusts into your hand, the wetness jolting him into attention, and he places an arm on your shoulder to steady himself. 

“You’re going to taste yourself?” he asks as you continue your vacillating motion, twisting at the base of his head with the wetness you graciously provided yourself. You give him a nonchalant look, something he is trying to do to you as well. 

“Who said I’m gonna suck you off?”

His look changes, and the one you get in return is cocky, arrogant, downright rude if you were honest. You expected him to play on with your banter, but one raised eyebrow and the lazy smirk he gives, to what he probably thinks is a joke - Zeus could land on earth and not be able to stop you from gobbling his meat. 

Your mouth is filled with his dick even before your knees hit the ground. Jin staggers back, but your suction on his dick is funnily strong enough to pull him back before falling.  You switch positions, having him balance himself against the counter, all while you refuse to leave his cock out. His giggle of endearment has you pouting, but it swells your heart and makes you want to give more, more of anything and everything. With your renewed vigor, you push yourself in until his pubes tickle your nose, and his tip tickles your throat. 

“Your-”, “I-”, “uhh-” 

Every new sentence Jin starts crumbles to your actions. You furrow your brows both in concentration on your blowing skills and trying to decode what he is trying to say. 

Jin takes a large gulp, adamant on making this one a coherent sentence. “You know, I used to imagine this, and in my dreams I used to be very sexy and suave, talking my way throug-oof-” You run your tongue over the tip of his leaking dick, emphasizing the point he is coming to, “Now I can’t even complete sentences here.”

“You being you is super sexy in itself.” And you curve your tongue to match the arch of his cock, letting the incoming saliva pool on it before letting it run down his shaft, dripping down from his balls. Strings of his precum connect to your lips, and you swipe your tongue through them, relishing the salty goodness before going back in for more. 

“Y/N, shit, did you just moan?”

How couldn’t you? The fact that he is horny for you, so much so that rivulets of precum don’t stop drizzling down your throat, has you preening. You hum your assent in response, not willing to let go even for a moment, but Jin pulls you off before you can get a chokehold on the base of his cock again. 

“Never had a woman moan while sucking me off. It’s sexy as fuck,” Jin breathes into your lips as he dives in for a kiss.

Your chest is heaving, catching the breaths you lost when you were down. “Then why’d you stop me?”

“Are you kidding me? I was about to lose it right there.”

“Jinnie, come on,” you break the fragmentary kiss you were sharing, looking into his glassy eyes, “let me feel you come on my tongue.” To emphasize your conviction, you lick his lips, persuading him of the sinful deeds your tongue is capable of doing if he’d just let you.

“Oh man, stop. What’s worse than busting a nut in your mouth? Busting it while you’re kissing me. Making me feel like a teenager.” You erupt into a loud laugh, soon followed by Jin as well. It is so him to joke about this. 

“And babe,” all hints of embarrassment vanishing from his tone, “I’m only going to come inside you.”

“Fuck, fuck, yes. You got a condom on you?”

“Yeah, let me grab my wallet.” The instant he moves away, you feel naked, shivering from the comfort stolen away from you. But then you hear Jin grumble, “I hope I don’t have the bacon-flavored one.” And the absurdity of it all puts you at ease again.

“Ew, stop, even you can’t make that sexy. My lady boner is dying.”

He envelops you again, and you can feel the laughter echoing in his lungs before making it out to your ears. He brings your attention to the familiar rustle of foil wrapper. “Thankfully, we got chocolate.”

“Mmmh, gotta love chocolate.”

You take the condom out of his hands, and roll it onto his stiff length, flattered that he’s holding his erection for so long. 

“Okay, stick it in me!” And you smack your ass in readiness, and a very flabbergasted Jin breaks out chortling.

“Y/N, stop being my best friend for like, five minutes!” His brows are furrowed in pretense exasperation, but you can see his lips holding back a genuine smile through the grimace, just happy that your dynamics haven’t changed the slightest, even though everything else has shifted.

“Okay okay,” you try and suppress your own laughter, before continuing, “how do you want me, baby?”

“Bend over on the vanity. And keep your eyes on the mirror.” And as you move into position, his palms grab your ass and squeeze it hard, feeling your glutes push back against his grip, and he pushes you forward till you're on the tips of your toes. You watch him through the mirror, watch him admire the way your ass curves over the table edge, how your toes struggle to keep you up, and how the dimples of your back are deepened by the arch, peeking under the bunched up robe tails, just waiting for him.

“Jin.” Your hushed whisper puts him in action.

Pushing the head in is anguish and relief at the same time. His bulbous head stretches your entrance; even with your preparation, you feel it sting. The searing gets better and better with every inch slipping in, and when he finally lodges inside, you let out a heavy breath, still panting and keeping yourself from screaming bloody murder in pleasure. Jin bends forward to paint the back of your neck, sucking the flesh till the circular bruise comes to surface. 

“Can you- can you-fuck, no, wait-” Your brain is at war with itself, battling between adjusting to his girth and having him pump you into adjustment. 

You can feel Jin’s snicker from behind you, and he finally makes the decision for you. “I’ll wait, I have things to do here,” he says before playing around the patch of skin, spreading from the base of your hair to the expanse of your back, his teasing licks relaxing your walls and accommodating his girth. The pain is almost gone, expect for the lingering ache that only helps you.

“You can move now, babe.”

“Okay, okay.” Your words snap him out of the painter’s dream he was in, and he twitches inside you. Something about the ease at which you both have adopted nicknames for each other softens his heart and hardens his cock. 

Pulling out till only the head rests inside, Jin himself struggles against the third degree grip your pussy has on him. As he is thrusting inside again, your walls tense up, making it harder and harder for him to hold back. 

“Y/N, sweetie, relax. I got you.”

“Jin, I’m-” You have tears running down your eyes, the pleasure and unsurmountable happiness rolling out in fat hot drops. “Fuck me harder. I won’t last.”

“Shit. Okay, hold on then.”

To what? Is what you’re going to ask before Jin unleashes his carnality onto you. Your breasts, dripping in sweat and saliva, are plastered to the countertop, which in itself is jiggling to the beat of Jin’s thrusts. His dick is curving inside to hit you repeatedly, and you have to gather the satin fabric to wipe your eyes to keep your gaze fixed on him. 

He looks majestic. Forehead embellished with beads of sweat, his hair coiffed up, lips sanguine red after your vicious kisses - you swipe your tongue along your own lips to find them battered in response. His honey chest is heaving with every push, and a particular one hits you just right. 

You let out a guttural groan, and Jin takes note of it immediately. 

“Up,” he commands, and loops an arm under your belly to you pull you up and closer and now every thrust hits deeper into that spot he has found in you, your back connected to his chest as the two of you move in tandem; this is the most together you’ve ever felt with anyone. This moment is to be etched in your memories forever.

You scream into your fist to muffle the sounds, the edge of the table digging into your hip bone as you feel yourself getting closer to the brink. One swipe to the clit is all you have left to bring you to your release. 

And from some telepathic force, or from the clutch your pussy has on him, Jin beats you to it. His fingers come down and carefully find your swollen nub, pinching it between his fingers. If he thought you’d shown him your hardest clench, he was wrong, because right now your dam has broken, and the iron-clad grip you give his cock sends him reeling, too.

You are gushing on his dick, the rubber dripping with your wetness. Jin too releases into the condom in stuttered gasps, his thrusts becoming shorter and shallower as he comes down from his high. 

Petal-like kisses fall on your back as the two of you regain your breaths. The mirror that served you two well is covered in a fog of hot breath and perspiration, blearing your vision of yourself, but somehow, it sparkles with Jin’s reflection. His nobility-esque visuals use the haze as a valance for his appearance, framing them to make him look like you’re among the clouds. And in some way, you actually are.

“Ah, let me go.” You jiggle your shoulders back to make the man above you move. “Fuck, can you check if my spine is in place? I think you dislodged it.”

“Shut up and come hug me, I’ll squeeze it back in place.”

Now this is something you could get used to.

As he ties and throws away the used condom, you flip over to face him and fall back into his embrace, broad shoulders promising to protect you, making you feel safe in his care. Jin on the other hand is simply ecstatic to feel you on him, feeling your thumping heart beat for him, after months of pining and pondering whether anything would become of the seed of your tumultuous friendship. Now, it has blossomed to a garden of prospect and promise, every petal of every flower here reading a new opportunity to tell you how much he adores you, cherishes you, treasures you. How much he loves you.  An opportunity he doesn’t wait to use. 

“I love you.”

The pink tinge of your cheeks either comes from the sex, or from his comment, but either way, he is glad its from him. 

“I love you too, Jin. So, so very much.”

If your heart could leap out of your chest, it would do so, to find its way to his and fuse into one. But for now, your entwined bodies give you all you want. 

You hear Jin stifle a laugh, and pull back in question. He points to something odd on the countertop.

“What is that?”

The cream white surface of the table, that was maligned by your ignoble deeds, now sports two glistening, wheatish semi circles that look very similar to the sizes of one person who was splayed on top of it just moments ago. 

“Is that…” Jin is trying to contort his lips and halt the looming snicker, and he brings his eyes down to your chest (trying not to get hard again), “Did you have makeup on your chest?”

“Shut up.” All you can do is fall closer into his arms, hopefully masking the tint of embarrassment highlighting the apples of your cheeks. “I wanted to make them look extra good for you.”

He’s given up on holding back, the full-bellied laugh that resonated from him echoing across the room. But it dwindles down fast, coming to small chuckles of tenderness, and he slips his digits beneath your chin to have you meet his gaze.

“They always look good,” he whispers, his admittance setting your chest aflame, “trust me, I’d know.”

Taglist 💛:  @little7bitchh​, @afangirllikeme-blog​, @h34rt1lly, @marpotterhead​

Thank you so much for making it to the end! I hope you enjoyed the fic, my ask box is always open for your lovely opinions. To read more of my work, find my main masterlist here. :)

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[ravencatroleplay]

(This roleplay is based off my story that I am currently writing call Khan Into Moonlight, names and some plots belong to me. Please do not steal but please do enjoy the story. It will be uploaded on my Wattpad and Ao3 soon) roleplay with @khan-stid

Luna had been called to section 31, a floating space station not far from earth. Her father admiral Marcus wanted her to come watch over a man name John Harrison. From what she understands that Harrison was injured during a mission and had lost his memory. He didn't know who he is or what he did. Everything of his memory is gone and Marcus had to fill in most of the blanks but he couldn't be there with John all day and night. So that is why Luna was on her way there, to help him maybe to try to get his memory back. Maybe she could get something to snap.

Though Luna may look like a normal human her appearance drawed many strangers attention. Her snow white hair was not very common and her striking bright blue eyes that pierced people. But behind closed doors she was not just human. Only Marcus and close admirals know what she really is. She was made for war, a weapon to destroy anything and anyone that was set for her target.

Marcus had told her many times not to get to close to people who would find out her secret and use her or steal her to continue the process with her. So growing up Luna always watched her back. Also because of her strength and abilities many people thought she was to be fear or weird. She didn't grow up with friends and just stayed to her self wich was fine with her.

Joining the starfleet when she was old enough she went on mission to help with their 100 percent success rate. She had gotten close with a Vulcan name Spock and James Kirk.

Now here she is on her way to meet a stranger that barely has his memory and she has to live there to help him. Luna was excited and nervous to meet Harrison. To her it was time for new friends since spock was always around kirk and kirk being annoying. She was nervous thinking he was going to treat her like everyone else and toss her off to the side.

Luna had made her trip to the station as she walked her way to her father's office. When she entered Marcus had suddenly looked up to her. "Ahh Luna you made it. Please come in. I want you to meet the man you will watching over." She looked to the man sitting with his back to her. Seeing his raven colored hair and straighten back then watched him turn to look at her. "John Harrison meet my daughter Luna Luciel. She will be here to help with your memory."

Harrison stood up seeing that he stop a foot taller than her as she walked over closer to him staring into his cyan eyes as he watched into her bright blue ones.

#khan #khan noonien singh #khan star trek #khan into darkness #khan into moonlight #khan roleplay #khan and luna