#(blurred lines)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Blurred Lines 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your boss takes an unpredictable turn.

Characters: Nick Fowler

Note: some more Nicky for the girlies.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Back to usual. 

You say goodbye to Joey with an especially clingy hug. She’ll be gone back to campus by the time you get home. Her short visits always leave you a bit sad.

You arrive at Nick’s place and let yourself in. The remnants of the prior day’s get together are still littered over the dining room table and throughout the front room. There’s more in the kitchen.

You gather the empty glasses and a few bottles with varying amounts of liquid still inside. You scrape plates into the pin and sweep napkins in after them. You fill the sink with warm soapy water to wash it all when you hear the soft but clumsy pad of feet on the stairs. They’re too light to be Nick.

You have the coffee brewing in anticipation of your boss’ hangover. The aroma wafts into the air as the machine clicks. A figure appears in the doorway and you turn to greet the woman in her sleek but wrinkled dress. This isn’t unexpected either.

“Good morning,” you greet her stunned eyes as she blanches.

“Um, I’m sorry, I was only–”

“Coffee?” You offer her as you open the cupboard, “look like you need it.”

“N-no, I… should go. Is there a Starbucks around here?” She croaks.

“No need, I can do lattes,” you offer, “he’s got this ridiculously expensive machine.”

“Er,” she looks down at the heels dangling from her hand then back to you, “sorry, are you… do you live…”

“I work for Mr. Fowler. Just the maid,” you assure her. Her assumption fills your chest with an unspent laugh. You’re far too old for Nick. Besides, the concept is ridiculous.

“Oh…” her single syllable dangles.

You pour her a cup and turn to offer it to her. Her mouth slants in a guilty smile. She shambles forward and accepts the mug.

“You take sugar, cream? Maybe some Advil?” You suggest.

“Oat milk? And yes please, my head is pounding.”

“Right, he has almond milk,” you open another cupboard and pluck out the ibuprofen, “or whole milk.”

“Almond is fine,” she accepts as you rattle the bottle.

“One or two, hon,” you ask as you approach her again.

“Two, please,” she inhales the scent of the coffee and sighs, rubbing her eye socket before extending her hand to take the tablet, “the whole bottle if I could.”

“Ugh, yeah, I don’t miss those days,” you hum and cap the bottle.

You put it away and go into the large fridge, taking out the carton of almond milk for the woman. You take it to her as she approaches the island to clink down the coffee. You watch as she adds the milk and takes a slender spoon from you to stir it in. She takes her first sip and moans before tossing back the pills.

“Coffee good?” You prompt proudly.

“Oh, yeah,” she looks up at you, “yeah, it’s great.”

“Took me a while to master the beast,” you point to the machine. “I finally got my ristretto down, too.”

She gives a nervous laugh and gulps again, wiping her lips with the back of her hand, “you’re nice… really nice. Why?”

You blink at her question. It makes you wonder, was Nick not nice? That’s not really any of your concern.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You shrug and turn to the full sink, “you’re a guest.” You plunge your hands in and scrub the porcelain, “plus, you kinda remind me of my daughter. I’d like someone to treat her nicely too.”

“Ah,” she accepts, “that’s really sweet.”

“It’s human, I hope,” you open up the dishwasher to slide in each plate.

“You really… didn’t have to make me coffee,” she murmurs.

You peek over at her as she stares into the depths. She seems sad but that might just be the hangover. You continue your work as you reply.

“It was already on. If you’re hungry–”

“Please, no, that’s okay,” she declines with a wave, “I think… I think I’ll just finish this and get an uber. Maybe go call my mom.”

“Well, you let me know if you need anything before you go,” you chime as you hook glasses into the top rack of the dishwasher.

You finish the dishes and grab a damp cloth to go wipe the table down. You stop by a few other surfaces to clear away rings from the finish and return to the kitchen. As you enter from the dining room, Nick appears in the other.

The woman faces him as she grabs her shoes, “hi.”

He growls and lumbers over to the coffee machine. He sees the mug waiting for him and peers into its empty body. You clutch the cloth in your hand as you watch his naked back tense. He wears nothing more than a pair of briefs. At most, you’ve seen him shirtless when he needs some stitches.

“More coffee?” You offer the woman.

“No, I should go,” she peeks at him nervously.

“Alright, well, you take care,” you bid her and take her cup.

“Thanks,” she says and skulks to the door, “bye, Nick.”

“Mmm,” he flicks his fingers at her as he pours himself a cup.

You narrow your eyes at his shoulder blades. That wasn’t very polite. Well, it isn’t your job to be his mother, even if it feels like it sometimes.

You put the almond milk away as he turns to lean in the corner of the counter. He presses the porcelain to his forehead and groans. You shake out the cloth over the sink and rinse it out.

“You have a daughter,” he states plainly. A question but not really.

“I do,” you answer evenly.

“I didn’t know that,” he says.

You shrug, “guess it never came up.”

"You’ve worked for me for three years…” he mutters.

“You never asked,” you say lightly, “it’s fine.”

He lowers the cup and slurps loudly. He swishes the coffee around before he swallows thickly.

“Your husband okay with you working twelves?”

You chuckle, “sir, really, it’s fine.”

His curiosity is not usual. You stick to the expected, the manageable. You don’t stray outside the lines. You’re friendly but you’re not overfamiliar. He always seemed to prefer that. He enjoyed talking about himself far more.

“You were busy yesterday,” he shifts his weight to one foot, his muscled chest rippling.

“I suppose as busy as you,” you roll in the racks of the dishwasher and add soap before closing it up.

“I… interrupted your plans?”

“Sir, it’s fine, I had a good day off and now I’m back,” you insist, “are there any other messes I need to worry about?”

He tilts his head and exhales deeply. His cheek dimples as he considers you. The cut on his head is exposed but not as bad as it was, though the bruise under his eyes has only gotten darker.

He scoffs as a smirk slants his lips, “sure. You could change my bed sheets.”

“Sure,” you accept breezily, repressing the glimmer of concern at the base of your skull. 

Something about his response seems trite, as if he means to insult you. You’re an adult, you’re less than shocked at his after hours play. By now, you’re quite used to it. He’s in his prime, he’s well off, and he’s handsome by anyone’s measure.

“You could try some witch hazel,” you touch your cheek then point at his, “for the bruising.”

“I can handle it,” he retorts and pushes himself away from the counter, “enough chattering. Get to work.”

🥃

You knock on the office door and wait for an answer. The little device you keep clipped to your belt is still buzzing with Nick’s demand. He calls to you from within and you enter.

“Sir?” You greet him.

“What took you so long?” He growls.

He’s in a foul mood. He has been all day. He can be gruff, you’re used to that, but today, he just seems prickly. His romp must not have been much fun. Come to think of it, his partner had been all too eager to flee.

You shake away the intrusive thoughts and clear your throat, “I was in the laundry room. Sorry.”

“My head is pounding,” he rubs his temples.

“Right, sir, I’ll bring you Advil and some water–”

“Don’t treat me like a child,” he snarls.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m sure I’m a lot older than your daughter, so cut it out.”

“I wasn’t– sir, I’m sorry.”

“Go, get the pills,” he shoos you, “and call Rhonda.”

You nod and leave him. Wow. You don’t think he’s ever spoken to you like that. The mention of Joey also puts you off. Why is he so concerned? Most people could look at you and assume you have a kid or too. At your age, with your hips…

You go downstairs to retrieve the Advil and a tall glass of water. You climb back upstairs and follow the airy hall down to your office. As you enter, he sits with his head in his hands, his elbows on the desk. You don’t say a word as you set down the glass and pills.

He doesn’t move. You back away slowly and pull out your cell phone. You’ll call the masseuse, she should be able to work out the tension.

As you get to the door, he growls and his chair squeaks.

“You said something, about witch hazel,” he snarls.

“Uh, yes,” you face him, “it’ll take down the bruising.”

He narrows his eyes, the gesture tweaking his swollen cheek. Even battered, he isn’t unattractive. And the woman in his kitchen was just as gorgeous. So you find it hard to fathom why he’s in such a mood.

“Would you like me to get it for you, sir?” You ask, trying not to sound too pandering.

“Sure, whatever.”

You sweep away and go down the hall to the cabinet. You keep everything stocked well. Part of your job is inventory. You’ll have to go through the liquor bottles later and see what needs replenishing too.

You return to him with the witch hazel and a bag of cotton balls. You place them on his desk as he leans his head against the chairback, his eyes closed. You step back on your heel and his eyes pop open.

“Would you mind?” He motions to his face.

“Sure,” you take the cotton balls and pull one out.

You uncap the dark bottle and dampen the cotton with the liquid. His eyes close again as you sidle closer and you dab gently along his cheek. He flinches, just once, then stills. It must be cold. 

His eyes flick open again and startle you as you retract your touch. Awkwardly, you move away and gather up the bottle and bag of cotton balls. He’s quiet as he leans forward to grab the bottle of pills.

“I should’ve guessed,” he says as he shakes two tablets out, “that’s what I do. I read people. You’re a mother, for sure. She’s older, isn’t she? College? You had her young–”

“Sir,” you sniff, uncomfortable.

“Just the one. And you didn’t answer me when I talked about your husband so he must be out of the picture. Divorced. About the time you came around here, huh? You need the job after the messy break up,” he suggests as he wags his finger with a knowing grin, “probably another woman, huh?”

You blink. You’ll let him think what he wants. His opinion of your marriage isn’t important. It won’t do to correct him anyway. He doesn’t really seem to care, he just wants to wound. You just can’t figure out what you’ve done to deserve it.

#nick fowler #dark nick fowler #dark!nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #blurred lines #the 355

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Copyright won't solve creators' Generative AI problem

The media spectacle of generative AI (in which AI companies’ breathless claims of their software’s sorcerous powers are endlessly repeated) has understandably alarmed many creative workers, a group that’s already traumatized by extractive abuse by media and tech companies.

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/09/ai-monkeys-paw/#bullied-schoolkids

Even though the claims about “AI” are overblown and overhyped, creators are right to be alarmed. Their bosses would like nothing more than to fire them and replace them with pliable software. The “creative” industries talk a lot about how audiences should be paying for creative works, but the companies that bring creators’ works to market treat their own payments to creators as a cost to be minimized.

Creative labor markets are primarily regulated through copyright: the exclusive rights that accrue to creators at the moment that their works are “fixated.” Media and tech companies then bargain to buy or license those rights. The theory goes that the more expansive those rights are, the more they’ll be worth to corporations, and the more they’ll pay creators for them.

That’s the theory. In practice, we’ve spent 40 years expanding copyright. We’ve made it last longer; expanded it to cover more works, hiked the statutory damages for infringements and made it easier to prove violations. This has made the entertainment industry larger and more profitable — but the share of those profits going to creators has declined, both in real terms and proportionately.

In other words, today creators have more copyright, the companies that buy creators’ copyrights have more profits, but creators are poorer than they were 40 years ago. How can this be so?

As Rebecca Giblin and I explain in our book Chokepoint Capitalism, the sums creators get from media and tech companies aren’t determined by how durable or far-reaching copyright is — rather, they’re determined by the structure of the creative market.

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

The market is concentrated into monopolies. We have five big publishers, four big studios, three big labels, two big ad-tech companies, and one gargantuan ebook/audiobook company. The internet has been degraded into “five giant websites, each filled with screenshots from the other four”:

https://twitter.com/tveastman/status/1069674780826071040

Under these conditions, giving a creator more copyright is like giving a bullied schoolkid extra lunch money. It doesn’t matter how much lunch money you give that kid — the bullies will take it all, and the kid will still go hungry (that’s still true even if the bullies spend some of that stolen lunch money on a PR campaign urging us all to think of the hungry children and give them even more lunch money):

https://doctorow.medium.com/what-is-chokepoint-capitalism-b885c4cb2719

But creative workers have been conditioned — by big media and tech companies — to reflexively turn to copyright as the cure-all for every pathology, and, predictably, there are loud, insistent calls (and a growing list of high-profile lawsuits) arguing that training a machine-learning system is a copyright infringement.

This is a bad theory. First, it’s bad as a matter of copyright law. Fundamentally, machine learning systems ingest a lot of works, analyze them, find statistical correlations between them, and then use those to make new works. It’s a math-heavy version of what every creator does: analyze how the works they admire are made, so they can make their own new works.

If you go through the pages of an art-book analyzing the color schemes or ratios of noses to foreheads in paintings you like, you are not infringing copyright. We should not create a new right to decide who is allowed to think hard about your creative works and learn from them — such a right would make it impossible for the next generation of creators to (lawfully) learn their craft:

https://www.oblomovka.com/wp/2022/12/12/on-stable-diffusion/

(Sometimes, ML systems will plagiarize their own training data; that could be copyright infringement; but a) ML systems will doubtless get guardrails that block this plagiarism; and, b) even after that happens, creators will still worry about being displaced by ML systems trained on their works.)

We should learn from our recent history here. When sampling became a part of commercial hiphop music, some creators clamored for the right to control who could sample their work and to get paid when that happened. The musicians who sampled argued that inserting a few bars from a recording was akin to a jazz trumpeter who works a few bars of a popular song into a solo. They lost that argument, and today, anyone who wants to release a song commercially will be required — by radio stations, labels, and distributors — the clear that sample.

This change didn’t make musicians better off. The Big Three labels — Sony, Warners, and Universal, who control 70% of the world’s recorded music — now require musicians to sign away the rights to samples from their works. The labels also refuse to sell sampling licenses to musicians unless they are signed to one of the Big Three.

Thus, producing music with a sample requires that you take whatever terms the Big Three impose on you, including giving up the right to control sampling of your music. We gave the schoolkids more lunch money and the bullies took that, too.

https://locusmag.com/2020/03/cory-doctorow-a-lever-without-a-fulcrum-is-just-a-stick/

The monopolists who control the creative industries are already getting ahead of the curve on this one. Companies that hire voice actors are requiring those actors to sign away the (as yet nonexistant) right to train a machine-learning model with their voices:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/5d37za/voice-actors-sign-away-rights-to-artificial-intelligence

The National Association of Voice Actors is (quite rightly) advising its members not to sign contracts that make this outrageous demand, and they note that union actors are having success getting these clauses struck, even retroactively:

https://navavoices.org/synth-ai/

That’s not surprising — labor unions have a much better track record of getting artists’ paid than giving creators copyright and expecting them to bargain individually for the best deal they can get. But for non-union creators — the majority of us — getting this language struck is going to be a lot harder. Indeed, we already sign contracts full of absurd, unconscionable nonsense that our publishers, labels and studios refuse to negotiate:

https://doctorow.medium.com/reasonable-agreement-ea8600a89ed7

Some of the loudest calls for exclusive rights over ML training are coming not from workers, but from media and tech companies. We creative workers can’t afford to let corporations create this right — and not just because they will use it against us. These corporations also have a track record of creating new exclusive rights that bite them in the ass.

For decades, media companies stretched copyright to cover works that were similar to existing works, trying to merge the idea of “inspired by” and “copied from,” assuming that they would be the ones preventing others from making “similar” new works.

But they failed to anticipate the (utterly predictable) rise of copyright trolls, who launched a string of lawsuits arguing that popular songs copied tiny phrases (or just the “feel”) of their clients’ songs. Pharrell Williams and Robin Thicke’s got sued into radioactive rubble by Marvin Gaye’s estate over their song “Blurred Lines” — which didn’t copy any of Gaye’s words or melodies, but rather, took its “feel”:

https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/robin-thicke-pharrell-lose-multi-million-dollar-blurred-lines-lawsuit-35975/

Today, every successful musician lives in dread of a multi-million-dollar lawsuit over incidental similarities to obscure tracks. Last spring, Ed Sheeran beat such a suit, but it was a hollow victory. As Sheeran said, with 60,000 new tracks being uploaded to Spotify every day, these similarities are inevitable:

https://twitter.com/edsheeran/status/1511631955238047751

The major labels are worried about this problem, too — but they are at a loss as to what to do about it. They are completely wedded to the idea that every part of music should be converted to property, so that they can expropriate it from creators and add it to their own bulging portfolios. Like a monkey trapped because it has reached through a hole into a hollow log to grab a banana that won’t fit back through the hole, the labels can’t bring themselves to let go.

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/08/oh-why/#two-notes-and-running

That’s the curse of the monkey’s paw: the entertainment giants argued for everything to be converted to a tradeable exclusive right — and now the industry is being threatened by trolls and ML creeps who are bent on acquiring their own vast troves of pseudo-property.

There’s a better way. As NAVA president Tim Friedlander told Motherboard’s Joseph Cox, “NAVA is not anti-synthetic voices or anti-AI, we are pro voice actor. We want to ensure that voice actors are actively and equally involved in the evolution of our industry and don’t lose their agency or ability to be compensated fairly for their work and talent.”

This is as good a distillation of the true Luddite ethic as you could ask for. After all, the Luddites didn’t oppose textile automation: rather, they wanted a stake in its rollout and a fair share of its dividends:

https://locusmag.com/2022/01/cory-doctorow-science-fiction-is-a-luddite-literature/

Turning every part of the creative process into “IP” hasn’t made creators better off. All that’s it’s accomplished is to make it harder to create without taking terms from a giant corporation, whose terms inevitably include forcing you to trade all your IP away to them. That’s something that Spider Robinson prophesied in his Hugo-winning 1982 story, “Melancholy Elephants”:

http://www.spiderrobinson.com/melancholyelephants.html

This week (Feb 8–17), I’ll be in Australia, touring my book Chokepoint Capitalism with my co-author, Rebecca Giblin. We’re doing a remote event for NZ on Feb 13. Next are Melbourne (Feb 14), Sydney (Feb 15) and Canberra (Feb 16/17). I hope to see you!

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[Image ID: A poster for the 1933 movie ‘The Monkey’s Paw.’ The fainting ingenue has been replaced by the glaring red eye of HAL9000 from 2001: A Space Odyssey.]

#pluralistic #luddie #chokepoint capitalism #generative ai #artificial intelligence #voice acting #labor #creative labor #exclusive rights regimes #copyright #copyfight #careful what you wish for #machine learning #ai #ml #blurred lines #melancholy elephants

[newblvotg]

#ambivert.geek #blurred lines #ghosts #siramas #gay artists #gay fantasy art #gayart #gay art #gay fantasy #newblvotg #gay #art #spooky season

[minimalphotographs]

street photography (abstract series).

©️minimalphotographs 2024

#minimalphotographs #lensblr #abstract #streetphotography #street frame #streetview #colours #blurred lines #blurred vision #photooftheday #photography #photographers on tumblr #original photography on tumblr #original photographers #original photography blog

[gyus-cheol]

BLURRED LINES : i miss him

synopsis : y/n isn’t over mingyu. mingyu isn’t over her. how will their tired friendship manage to get them back together..?

pairing : kim mingyu x afab!reader

genre/s : smau, angst, uni au, fluff, humour

previous : WHAT. THE. HELL

next : 03 : fuck him

blurred lines : masterlist

tag list : @kissesfrmwonwoo @minhui896 @haraethx @thia-aep @staurdvst @brrrkdslek @urdads @strwbwoo

previous | masterlist | next

#seventeen #blurred lines #seventeen smau #svt #svt smau #kim mingyu #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu smau

[its-all-coming-back-to-meme-now]

#polyamoury #polyamory #friends #platonic #kissing #platonic love #romantic love #blurred lines #more than friends

[black6mirror]

#aesthetic #grunge #blur #blurred lines #blurry #empty seats #empty spaces #emptycore #empty streets #hippyart #hipster #hippie #hippy aesthetic #grunge aesthetic #grungie #grungy blog #grungy aesthetic #window seats #artistic #artistic photography #not my photo #color coordinated #color coded #soft grunge #soft glow #cozy glow #glow in the night #glow in the dark #glow aesthetic #glowcore

[reallygroovyninja]

Under the Mistletoe

In the seclusion of her office, Lexa sat with her fingers steepled, staring at the softly glowing screen of her computer. The city outside was draped in festive lights, but her mind was far from festive. She was grappling with a surge of nerves, the kind that fluttered and twisted in her stomach. The company's Christmas party was approaching, a grand affair that, this year, held a significance far beyond corporate celebration.

Lexa and Clarke had come a long way from their initial arrangement. Over the past three months, what had started as a convenient façade had blossomed into something much deeper. They had acknowledged their feelings, stepping into the uncharted waters of a true relationship. Yet, despite this new understanding, Lexa found herself hesitating.

Asking Clarke to the party as her alpha, openly and without the safety net of their previous pretense, felt daunting. It was a public acknowledgement of their relationship, a declaration to her colleagues and the world. Lexa feared the scrutiny and the whispered judgments, but more than that, she feared what it might mean for Clarke.

Taking a deep breath, she reached for her phone. Her heart pounded in her ears as she dialed Clarke's number, each ring amplifying her anxiety.

"Hey, Lexa," Clarke's voice came through, strong and reassuring.

"Clarke, hi," Lexa's voice wavered slightly. "I was wondering if you… if you'd be my date for the company Christmas party. As my alpha," she added quickly, wanting to make her intentions clear.

There was a pause, and Lexa's heart sank a little. Had she been too forward? Had she misread their situation?

"Lexa," Clarke finally spoke, her voice calm and steady. "I'd love to. But are you sure? This is a big step for us."

Lexa exhaled, a wave of relief washing over her. "I am sure. I just… I'm nervous, Clarke. This will be the first time everyone will see us together, really together. And I'm worried about how it will be for you."

Clarke's chuckle came through the phone, warm and affectionate. "Lexa, being with you, openly, as your alpha, is exactly what I want. Don't worry about me. We'll face whatever comes together."

The tight knot of anxiety in Lexa's chest began to unravel. "Thank you, Clarke. That means everything to me. Having you there, not as a facade but as you… as us, it's more than I could ask for."

They talked a little more, finalizing the details, but Lexa's heart felt lighter with each word. As they ended the call, she leaned back in her chair, allowing herself a small smile. The party would be a turning point, the first of many, she hoped, where they could be themselves, an alpha and omega embarking on a journey together. The nerves were still there, but so was the excitement of a future with Clarke.

The evening air was filled with a crisp winter chill, but inside Lexa's apartment, a warm anticipation hung in the air. She stood, a figure of elegance in her cocktail dress, the soft fabric hugging her curves in all the right places. Her hair fell in gentle waves around her shoulders, and her makeup was done with impeccable taste, enhancing her natural beauty.

As Lexa opened the door, her breath caught in her throat. Clarke stood there, exuding a quiet confidence in a sleek, well-tailored tuxedo. The contrast of the dark suit against her strong frame and the gentle glint in her eyes made Lexa's heart race. Clarke was strikingly handsome, and in that moment, Lexa felt a surge of attraction stronger than she had ever experienced.

"Wow, Clarke… you look amazing," Lexa breathed out, her eyes wide with admiration.

A soft, knowing smile played on Clarke's lips as she stepped inside. "You're absolutely breathtaking, Lexa," she replied, her gaze lingering appreciatively.

For a moment, they stood in the doorway, the tension between them a palpable thing. Then, Clarke stepped closer, her eyes locked onto Lexa's. Gently, she cupped Lexa's cheek with her hand, leaning in. Lexa's heart pounded in her chest as Clarke's lips met hers in a kiss that was both tender and filled with unspoken passion.

The kiss was a spark that ignited a warmth in Lexa, chasing away any lingering nervousness. It felt like a confirmation of their connection, a seal on the new chapter they were beginning together. Lexa responded instinctively, her hands finding their way to Clarke's shoulders, pulling her closer.

As they parted, Lexa's eyes fluttered open to meet Clarke's, now sparkling with affection and a hint of playful mischief. "Ready to make our debut?" Clarke asked, her voice low and inviting.

Lexa nodded, a smile spreading across her face. "More than ready."

The night was alive with the spirit of the holidays as Clarke smoothly navigated her red sports car through the city streets. The car's engine hummed a low, steady rhythm, a counterpoint to the festive lights and decorations that adorned the city. Lexa sat beside her, the warmth and comfort of the car's interior providing a stark contrast to the bustling, chilly evening outside.

As they wove through the traffic, Lexa couldn't help but admire Clarke's effortless driving. Clarke's hands were steady on the wheel, each turn and maneuver executed with precision and confidence. The car seemed like an extension of herself, a testament to her control and poise.

Lexa glanced out the window, watching the blur of holiday lights and decorations that lined the streets. There was something inherently exciting about riding in Clarke's sports car. It wasn't just the luxury or the speed; it was the feeling of being in a space that was distinctly Clarke's. The interior of the car, from the sleek dashboard to the comfortable leather seats, seemed to reflect Clarke's personality – elegant, sophisticated, and just a bit daring.

Turning her gaze back to Clarke, Lexa found herself caught in the allure of the moment. Clarke's profile was illuminated by the soft glow of the dashboard lights, highlighting her strong jawline and the determined set of her eyes. Lexa's heart fluttered at the sight, and she felt a deep sense of contentment wash over her.

As they continued their drive, the city gradually gave way to the more open roads leading to the country club. The traffic thinned, and Clarke took the opportunity to gently accelerate, the car responding instantly to her touch. The smooth surge of speed brought a thrill that made Lexa's pulse quicken.

"You handle this car like a pro," Lexa commented, a note of admiration in her voice.

Clarke glanced at her with a grin. "I love driving it. It's not just about getting from point A to point B; it's about enjoying the ride."

Lexa smiled, feeling the truth of Clarke's words. The journey to the country club in Clarke's sports car was indeed an experience to savor. The sense of motion, the purr of the engine, and Clarke's confident presence beside her – it was exhilarating.

As they approached the country club, the elegant facade of the building came into view, its windows glowing warmly against the night sky. Clarke eased the car into the parking area, finding a spot with ease.

The engine fell silent, and for a moment, they remained seated, the quietness of the car enveloping them. Lexa looked over at Clarke, her heart full.

"I could definitely get used to this," Lexa said softly, "riding in this car with you."

Clarke reached over, taking Lexa's hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I hope you do," she replied, her voice tender.

Together, they exited the car, stepping into the crisp night air. The excitement of the evening lay ahead, but for Lexa, the journey there with Clarke had already made the night special. The car, the drive, Clarke's presence – it was a perfect beginning to what promised to be an unforgettable night.

The grandeur of the country club's interior, adorned with festive decorations and the soft melody of holiday music, provided a splendid backdrop as Lexa and Clarke made their entrance. Lexa, exuding elegance in her cocktail dress, felt a mix of excitement and nerves. Clarke, embodying the poised confidence of an alpha, was an anchor of strength beside her.

Their first encounter was with a group of division presidents, influential figures within the company. As Lexa approached, she felt their eyes on them, appraising and curious. She could sense their surprise at seeing her accompanied, a stark contrast to her usual solitary presence at such events.

"Good evening," Lexa greeted, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. Clarke's hand resting lightly on the small of her back was a reassuring presence.

"Lexa, we didn't expect you to bring someone," one of the presidents remarked, his attempt to mask his surprise only partially successful.

Lexa smiled, a touch of defiance in her eyes. "This is Clarke Griffin, my alpha," she introduced confidently. Clarke extended her hand, her demeanor both respectful and assertive.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," Clarke said, her voice carrying an undercurrent of confidence. Her handshake was firm, the grip of an alpha that spoke of strength and assurance.

The presidents exchanged brief looks, their surprise giving way to polite acceptance. The conversation quickly shifted to business, a terrain Lexa navigated with her usual acumen. Clarke listened attentively, chiming in occasionally with insightful comments that displayed her understanding of the industry.

Lexa noted with satisfaction the way Clarke's contributions were received – with nods of acknowledgment and interested follow-up questions. Clarke wasn't just her alpha; she was earning respect in her own right.

Amidst the glittering ambiance of the country club, Lexa and Clarke gracefully approached a group where the corporate echelon, including several board members and CEO Thelonious Jaha, stood conversing. The air around these influential figures was heavy with a mix of business and subtle power plays, the kind of atmosphere where every word and gesture mattered.

As they neared, Lexa’s demeanor was one of calm assurance, bolstered by Clarke’s steady alpha presence beside her. Clarke, familiar with the group from previous encounters, exuded a composed confidence.

"Mr. Jaha, good evening," Lexa greeted, offering a nod to the CEO and the other board members. "I hope you've been well."

Thelonious Jaha, a figure of both respect and authority, turned with a welcoming smile. "Lexa, always a pleasure. And Clarke," he extended his greeting, his familiarity evident, "how’s the practice? Keeping you busy, I imagine?"

Clarke responded with a respectful nod and a warm smile. "Indeed, Mr. Jaha. It's thriving, and there's never a dull moment. It’s challenging but rewarding work."

Jaha nodded, his expression showing genuine interest. "That’s excellent to hear. It's important to have a pursuit that drives you. Keeps you grounded."

The conversation gently meandered from Clarke’s medical practice to more general topics, including recent advancements in healthcare. Clarke’s contributions were insightful, reflecting her deep understanding and passion for her work. The board members, some meeting Clarke in this context for the first time, listened intently, visibly impressed by her expertise and the eloquence with which she shared her views.

Lexa, observing the interactions, felt a deep sense of pride and admiration. Clarke, her partner, was shining in her element, effortlessly engaging with some of the most influential individuals in her professional world. The respect she commanded as an alpha, combined with her intellectual prowess, made her an undeniable presence in the room.

As the discussion eventually shifted back to company matters, Lexa seamlessly re-engaged with the conversation, her insights and leadership abilities coming to the forefront. Throughout their interaction, the partnership between Lexa and Clarke was evident – they were a team in every sense, complementing each other’s strengths and standing united in their personal and professional lives.

After some time, as they politely excused themselves to continue mingling, Jaha’s parting remark carried a tone of respect and acknowledgment. "Always good to see both of you. Lexa, your leadership continues to impress us, and Clarke, your accomplishments are commendable. You make a remarkable team."

Moving away from the group, Lexa felt a comforting sense of validation. The evening was not just an opportunity to socialize; it was a reaffirmation of her and Clarke's growing partnership. Together, they were more than just an alpha and an omega; they were a dynamic duo, respected and recognized for their individual strengths and their synergistic relationship.

As the evening wore on, the festive spirit of the Christmas party seemed to fill every corner of the country club. The soft sound of laughter and music mingled with the clinking of glasses, creating a warm and convivial atmosphere. Lexa and Clarke, having navigated the evening’s interactions with grace and poise, found themselves momentarily at the edge of the lively crowd, enjoying a brief respite.

They stood close to each other, engaged in a light-hearted conversation, when Anya approached with a playful grin on her face. "Well, well, look where you two have ended up," she said, her eyes glinting with amusement.

Lexa and Clarke followed Anya’s gaze upwards and found themselves standing under a sprig of mistletoe, its green leaves and red berries hanging innocuously from the ceiling. The realization brought a flush to Lexa's cheeks and a sparkle to Clarke’s eyes.

"Looks like tradition calls for some action," Anya teased, her smile widening as she observed their reaction.

Clarke, with a mischievous look in her eye, turned to Lexa. “What do you say? Shall we honor the tradition?” Her voice was low, tinged with a playful yet tender note.

Lexa, caught in the moment and the warmth of Clarke’s gaze, nodded shyly. The room around them seemed to blur into the background, the noise fading away as Clarke leaned in closer.

With a gentleness that contrasted with the mischief in her eyes, Clarke’s lips met Lexa’s in a sweet, tender kiss. It was a soft, affectionate gesture, yet it held within it the depth of their feelings for each other. The world around them seemed to stand still, the kiss a delicate seal on their bond.

As they parted, Lexa’s eyes fluttered open to meet Clarke’s, now soft with affection. A gentle blush colored her cheeks, a mix of joy and the slight embarrassment of the public display.

Anya, watching the scene, let out a delighted laugh. "That’s the spirit," she exclaimed, her tone warm with approval. "You two are absolutely adorable together."

Lexa smiled, her heart still racing from the kiss. Clarke’s arm slipped around her waist, a gesture of comfort and closeness. “Thank you, Anya,” Lexa replied, her voice steady but still tinged with the remnants of the moment’s magic.

The evening continued, with the partygoers moving around them, but for Lexa and Clarke, that brief moment under the mistletoe felt like a poignant affirmation of their relationship. They were more than just colleagues or friends; they were partners, united by a bond that was both tender and strong.

As they rejoined the festivities, hand in hand, Lexa couldn’t help but feel a sense of completeness. With Clarke by her side, she felt ready to face whatever challenges and joys the future might bring. The kiss under the mistletoe was a symbol of their love, a promise of all the days to come.

#this was meant to be a one shot #but it f'd my timeline so #call it a sneak peek at part of the sequel #blurred lines #zero edits #so its very rough #clexmas 23

[bakubunny]

blurred lines

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x Midoriya Izuku

WC: 1,280

Tags: hurt/comfort, sharing a bed, anxiety, dissociation, crying, one shot

Summary: Over the years they’ve spent at UA, Katsuki and Izuku have come to an understanding: they help each other sleep at night. What they have beyond that, they’re not sure. But they’re in it together.

Izuku sings Katsuki a song, and Katsuki tries to come to terms with his feelings.

Bonus: here’s the song cover that inspired this fic

1.

It’s silent, the understanding they’ve grown to accept.

It always has been.

A hand reaches up in the dark and knocks softly on the door in front of him.

Katsuki is met with green doe eyes and dark, messy hair.

Izuku is met with a husk of the person he knows.

“Hi, Kacchan,” he says with a small smile once the door is shut.

It’s a greeting and a litmus test.

Katsuki doesn’t answer, but stares blankly across the room, not meeting his gaze. He looks so far gone that Izuku’s not sure he’d recognize himself in a mirror, let alone anyone else.

Meaning he’s still going to be like this in the morning, or he’s on the verge of complete breakdown. Or both.

He leaves his shoes at the door and follows Izuku back to bed. Izuku wraps his arms around Katsuki, whose head is now buried in his neck. They don’t even bother with blankets, knowing they’ll keep each other warm.

Izuku softly hums a familiar tune. Katsuki doesn’t move or make a sound, but Izuku can feel the tears on his skin before eventually, he drifts off to sleep.

2.

With Izuku, he’s learned to stop locking his door at night. In fact, he deliberately unlocks it once the dorm lights are out, just in case. Izuku hates knocking. No, on nights like this, he slips in quietly. Eyes puffy, cheeks red and tear stained. Katsuki is still awake in bed and meets Izuku’s eyes the moment he walks in. He stands there silently with his hands in his pockets, and waits as the world crumbles around him.

Katsuki lifts his chin. “C’mere, nerd,” he says softly.

He’s already taking off his shirt anticipating that Izuku will do the same. Katsuki can tell by the panicked look on his face that Izuku needs skin contact, and while that always makes him too warm, he does it anyway because it’s the fastest way he’s found to calm Izuku down.

Izuku crawls into bed with Katsuki and clings to him like he’s the only one who can keep him from drowning. Katsuki pulls him in closer still, hoping he can do just that, if only for a moment.

3.

This time, it’s bad. Really bad.

Katsuki is already in tears when Izuku answers. He’s hit with a crushing hug as the door falls shut. Katsuki smells like fire and smoke. There’s a fresh cut on his cheek and a scrape that looks hastily bandaged on his upper bicep. Izuku reaches up and pulls Katsuki’s head into his shoulder.

“I fucking hate you. I hate you, you stupid fucking nerd. I hate you,” he says, angry and hushed, choking back a sob.

“That’s okay, Kacchan. It’s okay.”

When Katsuki says that, Izuku hears what he means.

“I’m hurting. I’m hurting and I’m sorry and I need you so fucking much I can’t stand it. Please just make it stop.”

“Fuck you,” Katsuki spits back.

“Nothing is okay.”

“I know,” Izuku says.

Katsuki pulls away and starts taking off his clothes. A rare occurrence, but soon enough he’s down to his boxers and Izuku follows suit. Izuku pulls him by the hand over to the bed. He lies down and Katsuki curls up on his chest, nestled against his body and laying between his legs. Izuku wraps his arms around Katsuki, one hand running through messy, knotted blonde hair that he’d clearly been pulling at before he arrived.

He doesn’t explain himself. Doesn’t want to. He rarely ever has. Katsuki just needs, and Izuku needs to be there.

“Please, ‘Zuku,” he whispers. “I need to hear it.”

Izuku. Not many nights warrant that name, but right now he’s not surprised. Izuku is grabbing his phone off the nightstand to play the song aloud, and-

“No. Just you. Please.”

His voice is small and almost pleading, and Izuku is sure his heart might break from the pain lacing his words. He sets his phone back down and returns his hand to Katsuki’s hair. Izuku sings softly in a key he can manage, pronouncing the foreign words as best he can from memory.

“When the rain is blowing in your face

And the whole world is on your case,

I could offer you a warm embrace

To make you feel my love.”

He’s shaking out quiet sobs in Izuku’s arms. Tears are streaming up his chest and down his neck. Katsuki’s hand is gripping his so tightly, Izuku wonders if his hand might break if it weren’t for him matching Katsuki’s strength. But he continues.

“When the evening shadows and the stars appear

And there is no one there to dry your tears,

I could hold you for a million years

To make you feel my love.”

It’s almost too much, hearing him cry like this. The soft, gut-wrenching sobs of a seventeen year old little boy begging the pain to stop. Begging the panic and guilt and fear to “shut the fuck up for thirty goddamn seconds.” Izuku can understand that much, at least. He’s had his own pain like that wrapped up tightly in the same arms that are in his now.

“I know you haven't made your mind up yet,

But I could never do you wrong.

I've known it from the moment that we met;

No doubt in my mind where you belong.”

It’s taken all Izuku has to hold back tears of his own. He hates to see someone who means so much to him hurt so deeply. But he doesn’t stop. He means every damn word. He always has. He doesn’t care anymore if the lines are blurred. Doesn’t care if they never figure out what the hell hurts so much, or if what they have stays exactly as it is for the rest of their lives.

And that’s what breaks him. Tears are rolling down, running onto his cheeks, into his hair, and they won’t stop. He swallows hard and takes a slow breath because he’s still not done.

“I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue.

I'd go crawling down the avenue.

No, there's nothing that I wouldn't do

To make you feel my love.”

Somewhere inside, Katsuki knows he means it. That’s why it hurts so fucking much. He knows that it doesn’t matter how long it takes, Izuku will be there. That this - safe in the arms of someone he loves - is where he belongs. And it fucking hurts like hell. He hates it. He hates that it makes him feel like he’s turning himself inside out, hates that it’s true. But all of that is still too big and scary to face. All he can do is weep until this feeling passes.

“The storms are raging on the rolling sea

And on the highway of regret.

The winds of change are blowing wild and free.

You ain't seen nothing like me yet.”

Neither of them really knows what this is anymore, this thing they have. If you ask Katsuki, he’d still say it’s hardly a friendship. It’s just “shitty Deku,” the one he needs to sleep at night, of course they’re not friends. Ask Izuku, and he might tell you something closer to the truth, but still insist that he and Kacchan aren’t that close, and no, they never really were.

“I could make you happy, make your dreams come true.

No, there’s nothing that I wouldn't do.

Go to the ends of the Earth for you

To make you feel my love.

To make you feel my love.”

They don’t know if what they have will change or stay the same, but tonight it doesn’t matter. Right here, right now, they have each other to weather the storm. And for now, that’s enough.

#bnha #bakugou katsuki #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bkdk #bnha bakugo katsuki #boku no hero #bakudeku #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #fanfic #hurt/comfort #oneshot #sharing a bed #millennialmagicalgirl #midoriya izuku #blurred lines

[biaswreckingfics]

Blurred Lines: Final

Pairing: Kim Sunwoo x Female Reader

Genre: Roommates AU, Acquaintances to Lovers AU, Fuckboy AU

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: None

Previous Chapter

The sound of the screen door banging against the wooden frame of the cabin forces you to blearily come to. Blinking, you glance over at the clock on the table and squint your eyes to read the time. Just past 11 in the morning. You must've slept like the dead because the last thing you remember is falling asleep in Sunwoo's arms. Turning your head, you take in the empty pillow beside you. A small frown forms when you realize your morning is starting off differently than yesterday, but when you think about last night, the frown is instantly washed away.

You stretch your body in the warm sheets cocooned around you and smile. Your entire being is sore but in the absolute best way possible. Flashes of last night replay in your mind, and you're instantly giddy to see the man behind it all. That's the only thing that gets you up and moving out of this bed. This blissful, wonderful bed is where half of your dreams came true last night.

Once you have your pile of clothes in hand - and yes, you picked out a cute outfit that doesn't necessarily make sense for spending the day in the woods - you peek your head out of the bedroom. When you realize you're the only one in the cabin, you leave your room and head straight for the bathroom. The first thing you need to do is hop in the shower and wash last night’s activities off of your body.

Admittedly, you zoom through your shower and getting ready because you're too excited to see Sunwoo. Though you're sad he left the bed before you - especially after… last night - you're still anxious to see him. A part of you is nervous too because now what? Are the two of you going to have "the talk" and become a couple? Will the two of you continue to just hook up? While you'd like to think you're strong enough to not fall into that pattern with him, after last night… you're not entirely sure. What if Sunwoo gets nervous about being this close to someone again and screws it all up? So many thoughts whirl through your mind that you don't even notice someone has entered the cabin until Sophia is standing in the bathroom doorway.

"Well, good morning to you," she smiles with a knowing look in her eyes.

You groan. Great, you haven't even gotten to the part where you dread seeing the rest of the group yet. Of course, they'd know what happened. Half of them have big mouths, and you're sure this particular information spread like wildfire.

"Don't worry. I've already talked to Eric, so he shouldn't be too obnoxious," she tells you with a slightly less than confident tone. "The others, though… Well, stay strong."

Her words cause you to laugh, and you step out of the bathroom after one more finishing fluff of your hair. "Thank you for trying to control your annoying boyfriend."

She knows your words are a joke, and she flashes you a rueful smile. "There's still Hyunjae… and Haknyeon… Let's just say he's less than thrilled to be sharing this cabin."

You grimace as you wonder how much Haknyeon wants to strangle the two of you. With a sigh, you move toward the cabin door to face the music, but Sophia stops you.

"Um? Where do you think you're going?" She asks with a raised brow. "I need details! I want to know everything!" She pauses, and a grossed-out look crosses her face. "Nevermind, not everything. Just the good stuff! How was it? How was he? Did he -"

The sound of your stomach growling cuts her off, and you both look down at the offending noise. Sophia tries not to laugh as you wrap your arms around your stomach.

"I didn't eat dinner last night."

"Oh, I know," she replies. "We all know."

You roll your eyes and exit the cabin with Sophia hot on your trail. As you approach the spot you'd normally find everyone, it's like you can see the smirks on their faces where you stand, and you know you're in for it. What you don't see is Sunwoo…

"Ohhohoho, there she is!" Hyunjae shouts, forcing the attention onto you.

The entire group looks over at you, and you do your best to keep yourself composed. You will not let them get to you. Even though you can feel your skin heating up. As you glance around the group for Sunwoo, you notice Haknyeon stand up and walk away. When his eyes avoid your direction completely, you hear a couple of the boys snicker.

"You traumatized poor Haknyeon," Kevin says with a laugh.

Normally, you'd ask what it was that traumatized him, but you have a feeling you don't want to know how much they know. Instead, you silently drop down on a chair next to Jacob and do your best to ignore it.

"I have so much I want to say, but I've already been yelled at," Eric shoots a glare at Sophia. "So, I'll keep my mouth shut."

"Small blessings," you mutter, causing the group to laugh.

"Well, I haven't been yelled at, so I'll say it all," Hyunjae grins wickedly and leans forward in his seat. "So, you and Sunwoo finally did the devil's tango?"

You laugh despite yourself and shake your head. He's never going to stop unless you give him what he wants. "Yes. We had sex. There. Are you happy?"

"Extremely," he grins. "It must've been really good too because we heard you all the way out here."

Panic causes your heart to crawl into your throat, but before you can really freak out, the rest of the group denies it.

"We didn't hear anything."

"Shut up, Hyunjae."

"They didn't hear anything, but some of us -" Eric cuts off when Sophia whacks him in the chest. A frustrated look crosses his face as he turns to face her. "For the love of god, woman. Stop hitting me."

Hyunjae tries to return to teasing, but Sangyeon immediately puts an end to it with one look. When he turns to face you with an awkward expression, you brace yourself. You silently watch Sangyeon compose himself and put on his "adult" face.

"Do we have to…" he pauses and waves a hand between the two of you. "You both know to be… safe, right?"

The rest of the group either gasps in horror or groans in dread, and you want your seat to swallow you whole. No way. There's no way.

"Are you trying to give her a safe sex talk right now?" Kevin asks incredulously. 

Before Sangyeon can say anything, Hyunjae gets out of his seat, announcing, "I'm removing myself from this situation."

Eric quickly gets up and follows, causing Sangyeon to yell, "Do you really want a bunch of little Sunwoo's running around?!"

"Oh my god," someone mutters while you disassociate from the situation. The two of you have had sex once. Once. Okay, twice, but you certainly didn't deserve this yet.

"Okay. Okay. I'll drop it," Sangyeon concedes. "Not like I wanted to talk about it anyway."

While the group turns to a more normal discussion - although the one prior is normal for them - you lean toward Jacob and lower your voice.

"Where is Sunwoo?"

"Oh, he had to go into town for something. He'll be back in a little while."

A bummed-out feeling enters your chest. What'd he have to go into town for, and how come he didn't leave you a note or something? Before you can let it take hold, you shove it aside. He'll be back later, and until then, you're starving.

An hour or so passes while you eat food and hang out with the group. Before you know it, Sunwoo is pulling down the drive, and a nervous excitement fills you. You stand up to greet him, but Chanhee intercepts you.

"Hey, can I get your help with something?"

Confusion runs through you as Chanhee pulls you to a secluded part of the beach. You look around curiously to see if you can figure out what he needs help with, but nothing catches your attention.

"What's up, Chanhee?"

He looks over your shoulder to see if anyone's around. "Well, Sangyeon's girlfriend's birthday is next week, but I figured since we're all together, we should celebrate it while we're here."

Your eyes light up. "We totally should! That'd be so nice."

"The thing is, I can't trust half of these idiots to stay quiet," he rolls his eyes. "Can I get you and Soph to come up with a plan while I distract the rest of them with something else?"

"Of course!" You immediately respond. Ideas of cakes and balloons are already dancing through your head.

Chanhee gives you a relieved smile before glancing over your shoulder again. "Thank you! You're the best."

You turn and watch as he walks away. When he makes a beeline straight for Sunwoo - who is watching the two of you - your heart jumps in your chest. Moving to go say hi to Sunwoo, your steps falter when he doesn't even glance back at you and instead walks away with Chanhee.

Okay. Weird, but maybe Chanhee recruited him too. He could've at least waved at you or something, though. Feeling a sour mood start to take over, you push it from your mind and focus on the task at hand. You need Sophia.

Spending the next five minutes searching for her, you finally find her in Sangyeon's cabin with the girl in question. You signal for her to follow you outside, and she quickly excuses herself. As you turn to leave their cabin, you spot Sunwoo and Sangyeon in Sangyeon's room. Before you can think anything else about it, the door is shut, closing you out. You stand there dumbfounded for a moment before following Sophia out of the cabin.

While you fill her in on the plan, your mind wanders back to Sangyeon's room. Maybe Chanhee was in there with them, and they were filling Sangyeon in on the plan. Of course, they'd shut the door if his girlfriend is right there.

Sophia is just as excited as you, and the two of you come up with ideas for presents and decorations for the next hour. Thoughts of Sunwoo disappear as you focus on coming up with something brilliant for the girl who's been nothing but welcoming to you.

When it's time for the two of you to go to the store and get some supplies, your first thought is Sunwoo and his car. You're going to need to borrow it if you're going to pull this off. Plus, it's past time to talk to him. You start looking for him at your cabin, and luck is on your side when you find him there.

"Sunwoo!" You happily shout as you come up behind him. 

He jumps, startled, before looking back at you and composing himself. "Oh, hey… What's up?"

Some of your happiness slips away at his casual demeanor, but you ignore it. You just… surprised him. That's all.

Noticing your unease, he comes up to you and plants a soft kiss on your forehead. Your eyes fall shut at the sweet gesture, and you give yourself a moment to appreciate it. When he pulls away, he gives you a gentle smile.

"I'm sorry. What I should've said is, 'Hello, beautiful. How did you sleep?'"

A small part of you loosens as he rubs his hand up and down your arm. You smile at him. "Good. I was out like a light."

"I know," he laughs. "You didn't even move when I woke up. I tried to kiss your face like yesterday, but you didn't even twitch."

The rest of your unease melts away, and you relax. This is how it's supposed to be between you. This is the Sunwoo you've come to know.

You pout. "I was sad not waking up next to you. Especially after…"

"Last night," he raises his brows with a cocky grin on his face.

You give his smug look a blank stare before drily replying, "Nevermind."

He laughs when you turn away from him and wraps his arms around you, effectively trapping you against him. He playfully asks, "Where do you think you're going?"

"Oh! That actually reminds me that I came in here for something!" You turn in his arms and wrap yours around his waist in return. "Can Soph and I borrow your car?"

His hand comes up to brush some of your hair behind your ears. "Trying to run away already?"

"If I was running away, I wouldn't have used the term borrow," you tease. "We're just gonna run and get a cake and decorations for the party."

"Party?" He asks in confusion. 

"For Sangyeon's girlfriend!"

When his face scrunches up, and he looks at you like he has no idea what you're talking about, you furrow your brows. "I thought Chanhee told you?"

The moment you mention Chanhee's name, Sunwoo's eyes light up. "Oh! The party! I forgot Chanhee mentioned that."

You eye him for a moment, suspicions rising. Is that not what he was talking to Chanhee and Sangyeon about?

His hand drops into his pocket and he pulls out the car keys. He hands them to you without another word before reaching into his pocket again and pulling out his wallet. "How much do you think you'll spend?"

"Oh, don't worry about it," you tell him as you drop your arms and step away. "I don't mind paying."

"Well, let me help pay for some," he insists, taking out a couple of bills and tucking them into your hand. He's leaving no room for arguing, so you shrug and accept the money.

"If you insist."

He tucks the wallet back into his pocket and steps toward you. When he places his fingers under your chin and tips your head up, you could melt. He lightly brushes his lips against yours before giving you a proper kiss. He whispers the words "hurry back" and you nod.

The moment you get into Sunwoo's car with Sophia, you explode.

"Somethings going on with Sunwoo."

She looks at you with wide eyes. Her body isn't even all the way in the vehicle yet. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," you shove the keys into the ignition and start the car while she puts on her seatbelt. "He's acting weird. I'm getting weird vibes."

You glance over at her as you pull the car out of its parking spot and start to move down the drive. When she just quietly stares back at you, you elaborate. "Well, first. He left this morning without saying a word. Fine, whatever. I was sleeping. Then when he comes back, he doesn't even acknowledge my presence. He immediately goes to Chanhee to talk. I assumed they were talking about the party, but when I mentioned it to him, he had no clue what I was talking about."

"Take a breath," she gets in before you can start the next sentence.

You take a deep breath and try to collect your thoughts. "I thought after last night, we'd be closer, but I feel like he's more distant than ever? I don't know. Maybe it's just me…"

When you look back at Sophia, you see her face is carefully blank, and you become frustrated. "It is me, isn't it? I'm making something out of nothing."

"I wouldn't say that," she finally says.

"Then, what would you say?"

She bites her lip like she's searching for an answer. "Maybe he just doesn't know how to act? I mean, this is the first time he's slept with someone and kept them around in how long? He could be freaking out just as much as you are."

Her words don't sit well with you. Not because they hurt you, but because it just doesn't feel like the truth. Sure, there's truth behind them, but that just doesn't feel like what's happening. 

"How about we focus on getting a yummy cake, and when we get back, you talk to him?" She suggests.

It leaves a hurt feeling in your heart because you expected more out of this conversation. Honestly, you kind of expected her to offer to beat him up or something. Instead, you just feel more confused.

When you eventually get back to the cabins, party supplies and cake in tow, Jacob and Kevin - who are apparently now aware of the party - come help you carry in the bags before Sangyeon's girlfriend can see them.

Apparently, Chanhee is right. None of them can keep a secret. Though, you don't know why that surprises you, considering how your morning went.

Speaking of Chanhee, you see him, Sangyeon, and Sunwoo off at the edge of the woods talking. Before you can go over there and figure out what is going on, Sophia drags you into a cabin to start setting things up.

You distract yourself by blowing up balloons and helping Sophia decorate Sangyeon's cabin. The rest of the group keeps his girlfriend busy while also running into the cabin and grabbing whatever she needs to keep her out. It's almost laughable how obvious it is. However, when Chanhee steps through the door, you quickly abandon your tasks and zero in on him.

"Is there something going on with Sunwoo?"

He stares at you for a long moment before letting out a "nope" and moving on. He looks over the decorations and the cake before saying, "This place looks great. Are we ready for her to come in?"

Sophia confirms that all we have to do is light the candles. You continue to stand in the same place, feeling like you've been dismissed. Letting out a frustrated sigh, you watch Chanhee leave to get everyone while Sophia lights the candles. When she glances over at you, you plaster a happy expression on your face that doesn't feel real even to you. 

Sophia gives you a gentle smile and quietly says, "It'll all make sense soon."

Your eyes laser in on her and her confirmation that she basically knows what's happening. "What does that mean?"

"Shh! They're coming!"

"No, Soph. What are -"

The cabin door opens, revealing Sangyeon's girlfriend and the rest of the group behind her on the deck. You all shout "surprise" nearly startling the poor girl out of her skin. Her eyes trail over the balloons and streamers before landing on the cake, and a giant grin breaks out on her face.

"Is this all for me?"

"Happy early birthday, babe," Sangyeon wraps his arms around her and gives her a kiss on the cheek.

"Well, thank you…" she says happily, but confusion also rests on her face. "You know my birthday isn't for a few weeks, though?"

Your brows furrow. Didn't Chanhee say next week when you talked earlier? 

"I know, but I figured we could celebrate it now while we're all together," Sangyeon tells her. The look he's giving her makes it seem like he's trying to will her to understand something. Like if he tries hard enough, they'll suddenly become telepathic and can communicate without words. The entire thing is odd to you, but then someone shouts the word "cake" and everyone is back to normal again.

You move back, so you don't get trampled when the boys stampede for the cake. Sophia immediately starts threatening people about what'll happen if they make her drop it, and that causes them to calm down. Somewhat. 

A hand comes to rest on the small of your back and you glance over to find Sunwoo next to you. He looks at you, and you can see the nervousness in his eyes as he asks, "Can we go talk?"

Instantly, your stomach drops down to your butt, and your palms get sweaty, but you nod yes. You follow him out of the cabin, not noticing a few sets of eyes following you out. Once you step out into the fresh air, you take a deep breath and try to relax. 

"Walk with me?" Sunwoo cocks his head away from the cabin, and you wordlessly follow.

Your mind is racing 100 miles a minute. This can't be good, can it? But why would it be bad? Does he regret last night? Has he realized that he's actually not ready for a relationship, and that's why he's been acting weird? You quickly stop yourself. Why are you instantly thinking the worst?

Deep down, you know it's because you're scared. You've fallen so hard for this man that it's taken you by surprise. You can't recall a time when you've felt this deeply about someone. Where you like them so much, you just enjoy watching them exist. You like seeing their eyes dart around a room as they take everything in or seeing the little moments where they're deep in thought and not paying attention to the world around them. That's how deep you are for Sunwoo, and his nervous silence has your heart crawling up your throat.

Once Sunwoo starts heading for a small path into the woods that you've never noticed, you begin to slow down. "You're taking me into the woods?"

He looks back and notices your hesitancy. "There's something I want to show you."

You thought he wanted to talk? Regardless, you slip your hand into his when he holds it out and let him pull you into the line of trees. His thumb traces a path back and forth across the back of your hand, and the light touch calms you.

"What do you want to show me?"

He squeezes your hand. "It's a surprise."

The two of you walk for a couple of minutes through the dense trees. You wonder how and when Sunwoo had the opportunity to explore the woods. Maybe one of the others found whatever it is and just showed it to him while you were setting up for the party. You did see him, Chanhee, and Sangyeon near the path entrance earlier.

Up ahead, lights catch your attention, and you move your head to try and get a better view. When you see a break through the trees, you notice there's a small clearing up ahead. As you approach, the sight before you becomes clear and your heart starts to hammer in your chest.

Fairy lights twinkle, wrapping around wooden poles stuck in the ground and crisscrossing overhead of a small sitting area. Blankets are draped underneath with big, fluffy throw pillows sprinkled around. A wicker picnic basket rests off to the side of the blankets, along with a bucket and a bottle of champagne that's being chilled. Your steps falter as you take in the magical sight in front of you.

When you finally look up at Sunwoo in shock, you notice him watching you. He nibbles on his lower lip nervously as he lets you take it all in. Finally, when his voice reaches your ears, you can hear the hope within it.

"Do you like it?"

Your mouth opens and closes a few times as your eyes flash between the scene ahead of you and him. "I- You did this for me?"

He nods and searches your face. "I've been working on it for most of the day."

So, that's why he's been so weird today! He'd been coming up with and preparing all of this for you… Your throat gets thick with emotion. Nobody has ever done anything like this for you… This moment is going to stick with you for the rest of your life.

"Sunwoo… I love it," you meet his gaze, feeling a burning start behind your eyes. "This is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for me."

A brilliant smile lights up his face, and he slowly pulls you with him as he walks over to the blankets. You're too stunned to do much besides stare at all of his hard work. This man… This amazing, wonderful, beautiful man has officially stolen your heart. He held it before, but now you realize that you're never getting it back. It's his.

He stops you at the edge of the blankets and reaches down behind the basket. When he stands up, he offers you a bouquet of colorful flowers. Gingerly, you take them, and as you admire them, you realize they're the same flowers dotted throughout the clearing. 

Sunwoo handpicked you flowers. 

Your eyes flash up to his, and you convey as many emotions as you can in them. You're not entirely sure you can talk with the way your throat is completely closed. If you open your mouth, you might burst into tears.

Sunwoo looks more nervous than you've ever seen him, but you know he's understanding everything you can't find the words to say. He's always been able to read you like a book.

When Sunwoo kicks off his shoes and steps on the blanket, you follow suit. The two of you sit down next to each other while you attempt to find the right words to say.

"Thank you," your voice comes out hoarse, and you clear it. "I don't even know how to describe the way I'm feeling right now."

He offers you a small smile. "It's okay. I can see it."

"I had no idea you were planning any of this…"

He shrugs. "I had some help."

Everything falls into place for you. Him avoiding you and being gone when you woke up, Chanhee being there nearly every time you turned around…

"Chanhee?"

"Chanhee, Sophia, Sangyeon…" he nods before a curious expression takes over his face. "Though, I'm still not entirely sure how it turned into a birthday party for his girlfriend."

You laugh, knowing how you dove head first into that without question. Reaching for his hand, you look down and play with his fingers while you get your thoughts in order.

"Nobody has ever done anything like this for me… I've always seen it in movies and wondered what it would be like, but I don't think anything could ever compare to this moment."

He squeezes your hand, causing you to look up at him. "Well, I'm glad it's me that's giving it to you."

He sits up straight and turns until he's facing you, but he never lets go of your hands. Instead, he brings his other one up and holds both of yours with his. "I like you. Any fool with eyes can see how completely head over heels I am for you… From the moment I met you, I knew you were gonna be someone important to me, and the more time we spent together, the more I could see myself giving you my entire heart."

When your chest squeezes painfully, you realize you're not even breathing anymore. You take a shaky breath but stay quiet because you know Sunwoo isn't done yet.

"You've helped me realize that I can have something beautiful again. That I can give my all to someone, and they'll give me theirs in return. You make me feel like I can take on the world and that you'll be there whether I fail or succeed. You just make me… feel, and I want to do the same for you. I want to make you feel valid and important, and safe. I want to cheer you on and explore a new hobby with you every day, even if I think it's stupid." He cracks a smile, and you laugh even though tears are filling your eyes. You remember saying those words to him that first night at the bonfire, and you swear you can feel your insides melting.

"I want to cherish you and root for you in every single thing you do because… I love you. I love everything about you, and I want to be with you more than anything in this world."

A tear spills down your cheek, and you do that weird laugh-cry thing. Sunwoo fights back a smile and lets go of one of your hands. He lightly brushes the tears from your face and leans in to kiss you on the forehead, breathing the words "I love you" onto your skin.

"I love you too, Sunwoo," you finally force the words out. Sunwoo pulls back to look at your face, his own eyes shining. "I love everything about you, and I've never felt so understood and cared about before. It's unfair because I think you stole all the good ways to say it, but I want all of those things too. I want to be with you, and I want to give you my everything, even though you already have it. You already have my mind, body, and soul, Sunwoo, and there's no one else I'd rather give it to."

Sunwoo smiles before leaning in to kiss you. When his hand comes up to caress your jawline, you swear this moment couldn't get any more perfect. This is all you want, and you're finally ready to have it.

Suddenly, a couple of cheers sound out from the woods, and you and Sunwoo are startled apart. You blink at each other in disbelief as it dawns on you that your stupid friends are watching from the woods. When you look over at the sound, you see a few of their faces poking out from the foliage. 

"Are you guys together now?" Eric yells.

"Did he propose?" You hear Hyunjae ask someone, only to gasp in pain when that person hits him in response.

A laugh is ripped out of you, even though a part of you is annoyed. However, why would you expect anything else? They've been like this from day one, and now this chaotic group of people is forever entwined in your life.

Sunwoo takes a deep breath before yelling, "If all of you aren't gone in the next 30 seconds, I'm going to stick hair removal cream in your shampoo!"

The woods suddenly get really quiet, and you lose it when you hear the group start to sneak away. A few seconds later, Sunwoo joins in.

"I hope you realize what you've gotten yourself into," he smirks.

You do, and you feel yourself glowing as you reply, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Tagging: @wooya1224 @lilyujin @brie02 @itbtoblikethatsometimes @internetmemeofficial @timedoesliketolisten @jungkooksworld18 @ja-jjangmyeon @noempathyy @sunwoosclouds @cowboyjaehyun @sanghak-enthusiast @simpforsunwoo @en-boyz @lavayeon @rindomo @kunxcii @love-svt @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @ilovechanhee @jisungsleftcheek @sunwoahkim @allorysayshi @thethreekims @dontflailmenow @sunwoossunflowers @flwrtbz @cloudsficrecs @ohgeezitsbreadgenie @glxwingstar @asjkdk @maybeifyoutrieddd @auroraichimaru @sawadabegum

#blurred lines #deobiwritersnet #sunwoo x you #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo x y/n #kim sunwoo x reader #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo fic #sunwoo fanfic #kim sunwoo fic #kim sunwoo fluff #sunwoo au #sunwoo angst #kim sunwoo angst #kim sunwoo au #sunwoo scenarios #sunwoo series #kim sunwoo scenarios #kim sunwoo series #the boyz fanfic #the boyz fluff #the boyz fic #the boyz ff #the boyz au #the boyz angst #the boyz scenarios #the boyz series #the boyz stories

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Blurred Lines 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your boss takes an unpredictable turn.

Characters: Nick Fowler

Note: double chapter day! Thank you to @alicedopey for the ask! I see you girl.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Cotton drags over tinted skin, flecks it red catching along with the new blood trickling from the split. A hiss passes through clenched teeth despite your gentleness. The act reminds you of when your daughter was only six, crying over a scraped knee as you covered it with a Spongebob bandaid. You don't have any of the yellow strips now, just the roll of gauze and medical tape.

"Ah," Nick clenches his jaw again.

"Sorry," you murmur, "it needs pressure."

You push your thumb against the cotton and he winces, forcing a smile as he crackles out a chuckle.

"I can handle it, honey," he assures you as you hold the cotton above his brow, his other brilliant eye looking up at you. "Just like you handle me so well."

You don't respond. Your boss is a mercurial man. One moment, charming, the next rigid and ignitable. You've learned it's better to just go along with whatever mood he's chosen.

"Other guy looks worse," he remarks as you lift the cotton.

You nod, "I'm sure, sir."

He laughs again, closing his eyes with a sigh. He sits reclined in one of the leather armchair, his head tilted as you tend to him. It's after midnight. You're supposed to be at home sleeping. Your daughter's coming back from college for the weekend, you planned on brunch.

You sift out the box of slender steri-strips and bend over him, carefully sealing the gash above his brow. He's a handsome man. Objectively, you must admit it. Dangerous, too, but you don't wonder about the cuts and bruises. He has a shining badge that tells you more than enough.

"Hands of a goddess," he purrs as he opens his other eye again.

You stand and gather up the waste, packing away the medkit. You thank him plainly and fight the urge to look at the clock. You wad up the used gauze in your fist.

"Sir, is there anything else tonight?"

He lifts his head, both eyes on you now. He considers you as he sits straight and grips his knees. He stands and shrugs, spinning on his heel and striding to the mirror hung on the wall, just above the low table decorated with brass and oak.

"Did I interrupt you?" He asks as he checks his reflection. His left cheekbone is purpled and scraped.

"No, I was only sleeping," you say. You try not to let on that it doesn't come easy or often for you. It's not his concern.

"Mmm," he squints at himself and winces as it tugs at his wound. "Well, you can find an extra room here, drive back in the morning."

"That's kind, sir, but I'm okay," you back up, "I'll clean this up and go if there's nothing else."

"You'll just be back tomorrow," he turns and crosses his arms.

"Um, it's my day off, sir."

He clicks his tongue and nods, "forgot."

You force a small smile. No big deal.

"Got big plans then?"

You hesitate. He doesn't usually ask. You shake your head. You don't think he really cares.

"Would you like some scotch before I go then?"

He inhales, chest rising deeply before falling again. He drops his arms and slips his hands into his pockets. One tail of his shirt is untucked and his jacket is splotched with dark stains. He is sauvely unkempt.

"Sure," he grumbles as he paces before the artificial fireplace.

You dip your chin and leave him. You toss away the garbage and tuck away the kit. You wash your hands before you return to the den and take the thick-bodied decanter from the cabinet. He stands with one hand on the mantle as he stares at the floor.

You pour him a glass and bring it to him. He accepts it without looking up. You ask him if he wants the rest left out for him. He says it doesn't matter.

You bid him good night as he resumes his pensive trance. The adrenaline slakes away and now he's coming down. He'll be in for a good sleep, a lot better than your own. You'll be lucky to get a few hours before you're due to meet Josephine.

🥃

You smile across at your daughter. Every time you see her, she seems more grown up than the last. She has a pretty flower pin in her hair and her lips are glossed the perfect shade of rose. She reminds you of your age, both in a good way and a bad way.

You don't fail to notice the other looks in Josephine's direction. Joey, she corrected you when you picked her up. The changes in her make you feel stagnant. You suppose that comes with age too. You're done blossoming, you only have the wilting ahead of you.

"So, exciting," you say as you pinch the stem of your glass, a pair of mimosas between you as you await your entrees, "you got an internship."

"Um, yeah, it's not bad," she pushes her shoulders up, "my boss is okay, I guess."

"That's good, most bosses don't earn much more than 'eh' as a rating," you kid, "sorry, kiddo."

"Mom," she warns.

"I know, sorry," you correct yourself, "I'll try not to do it again."

You remember being her age. Caught in between adulthood and childhood, not wanting to be reminded of the latter.

"It's fine," she sighs, "I just... I'm trying to be a grown-up, you know?"

"Oh, you've got lots of time for that, Miss Lawyer," you trill, "you are very grown up. You know that, don't you? I'm so proud of you."

"Still got a far way to go," she sips from her own glass. You couldn't have ever imagined your daughter with prosecco sparkling in her hand, but there she is. You almost can't believe she's yours. "Let's talk about you. That's a lot less stressful."

"Ha, but boring," you roll your eyes. "You know, same old."

"Oh, trust, I could tell by the dark circles."

"Oof, you did not," you cackle, "Josephine-- Joey."

"You should try some vitamin C cream--"

"Don't," you warn her with a point across the table.

She giggles and her eyes flit around. There's something else. Something she's not telling you. But she wants to.

"What's going on?" you prompt.

"This is such a nice place," she looks at the table and fidgets, "thanks for breakfast, mom..."

"But..." you add on.

"I... hate to ask but..."

"You need money," you utter, "that's okay. We can make it work. What's it for?"

"Books," she says, "I kinda ran out before I could buy them all, so..."

"That's okay. I'll see if I can't get a few extra hours at work then."

As if he could hear the very allusion to his existence, your phone flashes with a private caller. It's Nick. It's only ever him. You flip the phone down to hid the call.

"Take it," your daughter insists, "it's fine."

"No, it isn't. It's my day off. It's our day," you say, "it can wait."

She smiles. She's so pretty. You can't help but feel inadequate next to her; your own daughter. She's young and vibrant and you're wearing a blouse you bought a decade ago that squeezes your middle a bit too tight.

"Like I said, I'm boring," you sit forward, "tell me about the good stuff. The juicy stuff. Any boys-- or, men?"

"Mom," she snipes.

"What? I gotta live vicariously through you."

She rolls her eyes, "no."

You laugh. You always loved teasing her. She's hard-nosed and too focused to worry about the piddly troubles caused by boys. Or...

"Any girls?"

She looks at you with fire in her eyes. Ah, that's it.

"What's her name?" You goad.

"No, it's nothing. We're not even-- I mean, there's no one," she takes another gulp of her mimosa.

"Sureeee," you drag out the word teasingly, "how many more of those to spill?"

"Enough," she warns, "what about you, huh? You seeing anyone besides your soap operas?"

Now it's your turn to frown, "no," you answer evenly, "I... don't think that's in the cards for me, honey."

"Mom, it's okay," she softens her voice, "dad wouldn't... he would want you to be happy."

"Mm, he would, but he was my happy," you bat your lashes against the singeing heat. "I'm okay, really."

"You deserve someone," she says. "You don't have to be alone."

"I am alone, doesn't mean I'm lonely," you deflect. "Anyway, let's enjoy this. I don't get enough of you."

"Alright, twist my arm, I'll settle for free mimosas and a breakfast bowl," she gives a snarky grin.

You smile. She's the hope you have left. You hope that she never goes through the same pain again. One loss is enough for both of you.

🥃

Joey orders and Uber and you sidle in next to her. You clutch your phone over your purse as the haze of the mimosas fogs in your vision. You may have indulged a bit much.

Your phone shines and you look down. 'Private'.

"I see what you mean about bosses," Joey chides.

"It's not-- not a big deal," you dismiss the call.

"Mom, maybe it's an emergency," she sniffs, "he's been calling a lot."

"He's an adult, I just sweep up his crumbs," you wave her off.

Your phone lights up once more. You're starting to get paranoid. Still, you have to maintain boundaries. Today is your day off.

You exhale and sit back. You watch the city smear by and yawn. The restless night tingles on your eyelids.

Finally, you get to your apartment and slump out of the Uber. You stop as Joey helps you tip the driver with the app and you carry on into the lobby of your building. The feeling of the world passing you by lingers beyond the car ride.

Upstairs, you get Joey settled into the room you haven't changed since she left. She puts her bag on the bed and hangs out in the living room as you put on a pot of coffee. It's too early to be this tipsy. You yawn and your phone once more comes to life.

You swipe it up and tell Joey to help herself to the coffee as you sweep out of the room. You head down the hall and step into your bedroom as you answer, "Mr. Fowler."

"You're busy?" Nick asks.

"It's my day off," you say firmly.

"Yes, we talked about that."

You're quiet. Confused. You try to recall the last time he bothered you outside of work. When you're not being paid for it, you never really hear from him.

"Is something going--" you stop and suppress a hiccup. It's more dehydration than the alcohol. "On?"

"I have guests coming," he says, "thought you might like some overtime."

"Oh, sir, I'm sorry, but--"

"Clearly you're disposed," he says tersely. Is he mad?

"I wasn't expecting--"

"It's fine. It was an offer. I can manage on my own."

"Of course, sir, I wouldn't--"

You flinch as the line cuts and the call goes dead with a bloop. You pull the phone away from your face and furrow your brow. Really? He hung up on you.

You toss your phone on the bed. Whatever. Forget him. Even if you weren't three glasses deep, you wouldn't leave Joey just to kowtow to his pretentious friends.

#nick fowler #dark nick fowler #dark!nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #the 355 #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #blurred lines

[doctorkinktraveller]

Blurred lines...

#mia malkova #adult actress #adult model #adult entertainment #blurred lines

[storytimewriting]

blurred lines

This piece is written about an experience of mine a few years back. It is extremely dark and touches on themes of S/A and S/H, so if that is triggering for you, I suggest skipping this one.

While this piece is in my poetry book, Transparent Mirror, I never thought it would be one that I would put out so publicly on a social media of mine. These are very raw experiences and emotions, so please practice kindness in your responses.

I have healed and come a long way since this experience.

This is a piece I am really proud of. It was difficult to write, but I do believe writing about my experiences has helped me grow.

Let me know what you think!

xx gwen <3

________

blurred lines

your friend looks at you with soft eyes and a smile on his face as he holds his hand out, passing the torch to you. you inhale his false promises and hidden agendas with ease, blind to his true intentions.

it's dark in the room, he dims the red lights as red flags flash through your head. slide across the bed, he follows, then his hands hold you still. did you know he liked you as more than a friend?

soft rejections and subtle separation are met with counteroffers and pleas. he would swear he never hurt you, never forced you to do anything you didn’t want to do. don’t you dare say he crossed a line you never drew.

as guilt pulled your legs apart and tears coated your vision, the line was too blurred even for you to see. determined to never repeat that night, you carve stop signs into your skin, ensuring no one will ever accuse you of not drawing that line again.

#author #writing #poetry #poem #stories #blurred #blurred lines #lines #sad poem #poetic #poets on tumblr #dark writing #dark stories #dark aesthetic #dark thoughts #dark themes #dark poetry #dark poem #original poem #writers and poets #short poem #sad thoughts #sad stories #sadgirl #sad poetry #sad quotes #sad #aesthetic #self h@rm #writer

[minimalphotographs]

winter feels.

©️minimalphotographs 2023

#minimalphotographs #lensblr #naturfotografie #nature photo #naturephotography #bokeh and blur #blurredphoto #blurred lines #winter landscape #winter #photooftheday #photography #photographers on tumblr #original photography on tumblr #original photography blog #original photographers

[gyus-cheol]

BLURRED LINES : fuck him

synopsis : y/n isn’t over mingyu. mingyu isn’t over her. how will their tired friendship manage to get them back together..?

pairing : kim mingyu x afab!reader

genre/s : smau, angst, uni au, fluff, humour

previous : i miss him

next : 04 : who is she

blurred lines : masterlist

tag list: @kissesfrmwonwoo @minhui896 @haraethx @thia-aep @staurdvst @brrrkdslek @urdads @strwbwoo @yearnoclock @dinonuguaegi

previous | masterlist | next

#seventeen #blurred lines #seventeen smau #svt #svt smau #kim mingyu #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu smau #mingyu x you

[uzi-doorknob]

when i say i hate blurred lines i mean captchas, which are the work of robo satan. if we had the song on the ship computer i know V would have tortured me with it but so far i've escaped that fate

#murder drones #shitpost #blurred lines