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countrymusiclover · 1 year

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11 - Sister Fights

Part 12

Other Hoyt’s Off Limits

Tag list- just ask to be added @stoneyggirl2 @dragonixfrye

Beau and I just froze in our places as I muttered under my breath wishing we had a way out of this. “Oh where’s Cassie with a phone call when you need her?” Because I knew my sister would be furious to hear our little secret.

Beau and I just were frozen where we stood with my sister standing in front of us. She had her arms crossed over her chest with a scowl of betrayal on her face. I knew I had messed up and I shouldn’t have kept it a secret because it would have avoided this exact moment. “Jenny before you get angry just let me explain that I have not hurt your sister since we started-“ Beau attempted to say calmly.

“Be quiet Beau!” She raised a hand cutting the sheriff off before he could say another word that she wouldn’t believe at this moment in time. “I can’t believe you went behind my back, Mallory. Was it all a load of crap that conversation we had that night after a few beers. Because I thought I was supposed to be the one helping you find love!”

Dropped my hands at my sides. I didn't know what the right thing to say was. That night I asked her to help me. I was in the most vulnerable state I had ever been in. “Jenny, I…I don’t know what to say. I was an emotional mess when I asked that of you. But now it is different. I have grown up since then. I can make the choice for myself and Beau has been nothing but a gentleman to me.”

“That’s the same thing you said about JW and we saw how that ended for you. But that isn’t important right now. You lied to me. You lied to your sister and here I thought we were always honest with each other.” She spat in my face before I turned my hands into fists at my sides.

“Is that this is coming too, Jen. Because you’ve had a fight with Cassie about sleeping with Cody and you forgave her. Then with Travis he freaking betrayed you and you still forgave him for that. So your track record is forgiving every liar on the planet.” I listed off my fingers seeing Beau give me a confused look because he assumed that she had taken care of Travis instead she let him run off to find whatever girl he was after.

Beau slowly raised his hands trying to calm down the situation before things got ugly between the two siblings. “Alright Hoyt let’s just hear her out before we jump to any conclusions about our relationship.”

“Oh I already have a conclusion you two are through. You need to stop whatever relationship this is because she isn’t someone you can just choose this job over or push around. She is my little sister and I will make sure that no low life country boy breaks her heart again!” My sister stomps her boots in the dirt getting in his face pointing her index finger harshly against his chest.

Stomping forward I grabbed my sister’s shoulder yanking her away from him not being able to take her yelling at him anymore. “Jenny, that's enough. Okay I really like him and I’m sorry I lied. Yet looking at you now maybe it was a good idea to keep it from you if this was going to happen. So you’ll just have to accept that I am not going to break up with him!”

“I can’t believe you are acting like a child over this. I am just doing what you asked me to do as your sister. And you clearly can’t see that so I’m gonna go!” She throws her hands up in the air getting in her car and drives off without another word.

I sucked in a shaky breath feeling tears starting to fall down my face watching her leave like this. My knees almost gave out from underneath me thankfully Beau noticed catching me before I could hit the ground. “Woah Mallory. Easy now I’ve got ya.” Wrapping my arms around his neck, our noses hit each other before he had me standing on my own feet.

“Thanks…I…I’m sorry for all this. I…I’m gonna go Beau.” I apologized to the sheriff, grabbing my coat and heading towards my truck. Since it would be awkward if I stayed here any longer since my sister had basically upset my whole evening.

Flinging my truck door opened I got in the driver seat about to close the door but he pressed his hand against it stopping my actions. “Hold up, Mal. Look I know you're upset and everything but - how about I take you out for some beers and cheese fries?”

“Beau…” Throwing my head back I slumped my shoulders wishing I hadn’t told him that I loved cheese fries with bacon at the bar we went to last time. Giving him a look he gives me those darn puppy dog eyes making me give in. “Fine. Hop in, I'll drive.”

He quickly snatched the keys from my hand before I could start the truck. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I made my emotional girlfriend drive? Plus I’m paying for your drinks.” He insisted so I slid over into the passenger seat letting him drive us to the place.

He held the door open for me while I got the beers and the fries, giving the bartender the money he had me seeing he had found an empty booth near the stage that usually had a band playing. Sliding in across him, taking a fry and popping it into my mouth smiling as he took two, throwing one in my direction. “Beau don’t waste the food.”

“It got you to smile, didn't it, Mallory.” He teased throwing some more until I threw some water in his face where he chuckled. By the end of this little food battle we were both covered in food and water but grinning ear to ear at the same time. Leaning back in the booth I giggled seeing Beau looking over his shoulder as some people were taking the stage.

“Alright everyone tonight we will be doing some karaoke. So if anyone has a suggestion, come up here. This is the song we will be starting with.” The announcer pulled up a song where I recognized the title Thinking Bout You.

Hitting my hands on the table I started tapping my boots on the wooden floor. “I love this song!”

“Then why don’t you go up there and sing?” He suggested tilting his head up towards the stage with a cheeky grin on his face.

Holding my hands up in the air I shook my head no feeling my face turning red like a tomato. I usually only sang when I was by myself. But otherwise I didn’t do it around others. “Hell no, Arlen. I don’t sing in front of crowds.”

“If I went up there would you do it then, Mallory.” He offered where I stayed silent until he got to his feet offering me his right hand. Slow putting mine in his he tugged me to my feet and up onto the stage with the two microphones. He took the first microphone looking in my direction when I picked up the second one sucking in a breath avoiding the gaze of the people in the audience. I never thought I would be doing something like this tonight but here we were. “Well, look who it is. Last call I thought I'd get. How's your mama, how you been? Girl, it's been too long. Saw your sister at the Circle K. Heard baby number two is on the way. Hadn't seen her since her wedding day. With you on my arm. It's good to hear from you again. Girl, what a coincidence. I was just thinking 'bout that weekend out on Cumberland Lake. And that one time in Baton Rouge when we made out in the rain. Where we went chasin' fallin' stars on a hill at your daddy's farm. Don't be sorry for callin' me up right outta the blue. I was just thinking 'bout you."

Closing my eyes I took a breath before reading the screen in front of me even though I knew all the words pretty well. "Hey, I just gotta say I heard your song the other day. And it put a smile on my face when I started reminiscing. I been on the edge of calling you. And I'm so glad I decided to…"

Beau and I turned to face one another smiling simply before we sang the duet part together. "I was just thinking 'bout that weekend out on Cumberland Lake. And that one time in Baton Rouge when we made out in the rain. Where we went chasin' fallin' stars on a hill at your daddy's farm. Don't be sorry for callin' me up right outta the blue. I was just thinking 'bout you. Oh, oh, I was just thinking 'bout you." I already enjoyed when he called me darling with that accent of his. So clearly he was good at singing.

"If you're ever back in town. Do what you're doin' right now. 'Cause I'm probably thinking 'bout you." Beau stared deeply into my eyes, taking my freehand in his twirling me underneath his arm, making me giggle up at the guy that was also my boss.

Squeezing my hand in his I spun him in and out of my chest before we got in the others face finishing the song together. Performing with him like this makes me forget how this evening started with an argument with my sister. "I was just thinking 'bout that weekend out on Cumberland Lake. And that one time in Baton Rouge when we made out in the rain. Where we went chasin' fallin' stars on a hill at your daddy's farm. Don't be sorry for callin' me up right outta the blue. I was just thinkin' 'bout you. Oh, oh, I was just thinkin' 'bout you. I was just thinkin' 'bout you. Oh, I was just thinkin' 'bout you." He wrapped his arms around my waist before I threw mine around his neck rushing back to our booth feeling like we were on cloud 9.

Unknown to either of us Jenny was sitting at the bar clutching a beer bottle in her hands watching the two of us before Cassie came and sat down beside her. "Jenny, I think you were wrong about Mallory." The blonde knew she wasn't leaving the bar anytime soon tonight.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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hope-for-olicity · 10 months

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The Consequences of Being an Unmarried Woman in her 40s in 2023

As a lover of historical romance I’m very familiar that the women had no choice to marry or be dependent on others in the past. I used to think I’m so glad that’s no longer the case! But have things changed that much?

I am a 45 year old unmarried woman with no dependents and a good job. In the government’s eyes I do not exist as I do not have a family, I’m not elderly or extremely poor.

I make good money - most of which goes to rent, food, student debt and books. I cannot afford a car as I can’t afford to park it - this has only recently become a bigger issue as I moved to a huge city with beyond terrible transit.

I do not qualify for a mortgage and have savings to travel but never enough for a down payment. I never really aspired to homeownership so it’s okay. I just want to be able to afford my rent.

There is a lot of talk in Canada and I’m sure elsewhere about affordable housing but what they are talking about is affordable housing for two income families. There is no real talk about affordable rent.

My rent went up $100 a month this year. I’m making it work but I don’t know if I can next year. I may need to move, which is also VERY EXPENSIVE. You need to pay for movers, have two months rent money. I’ve never in my life had two months rent. I have always been fortunate enough to have parents who can help but they won’t always be here.

So often when people hear about the high cost of living in the city - they say move or get a roommate. Moving somewhere I don’t have a job doesn’t seem like a smart choice and yes, I’ve applied and searched for jobs in smaller towns. I’m not against the roommates idea but it’s not easy to find a roommate as an older woman and apartments are just double the price to have two bedrooms.

For now, I’m okay. I have a nice apartment, filled with books. I’m able to pay my rent, for groceries and student loan. But I still feel very vulnerable as I never married. I’m grateful and very fortunate to have my parents support when necessary but that’s not a permanent situation.

I look at my married friends and family. I know most have debt but they also have houses, vehicles and grown up things. I went to Lowe’s recently to look for a fan - I’d never been there before. It’s a massive store filled with things I’ll never need to buy.

I know I’m in the minority. I don’t mind that. I just thought that women no longer needed to marry to get by. Now I’m not so sure.

#thoughts #single women

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benefits1986 · 11 months

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Dear Dad D

As Gemini szn starts, let this be our nth hello. Thank you for looking after me even when my default answer is no, always. You never gave up on me even when I failed you one too many times. I guess, after the death of Tito Taurus, I unconsciously looked for a father figure especially when I was lost and too shaken. It’s actually my first time to get this out of my system and saying this now feels really good. More than looking after me, I found answers to the questions I never spoke about because of my trust issues. After more than a decade, I can say that your purpose in my life is to let me see that life is not about running after the climb, but how one is able to make more sense of the journey. This journey is meant to have detours, dead ends, sudden turns, twisted roads and one too many secret spots. Perhaps, one of the best things I’ve learned from you is that age and time are but numbers. Thank you for letting me see your vulnerabilities and jagged edges. Your wins are not confined to the number of zeroes in your bank account; instead, how you are able to turn the life of your students who are underdogs. Speaking of underdogs, you always share stories of how you’re able to ignite students who are below bare minimum and walk with them as they build their folios. These folios are not about impressive projects. These are folios that came from humble skills backed with the right training. Funny how, I can say you’re a coach. Mala-Coach Anzai in Slam Dunk minus the flabs, the punggok look, the formal attire, and the glasses, because you’re too underrated and too low-key. During the pandemic, I remember that I prayed dearly for you as a senior citizen. Lo and behold, you shared that pandemic made you more focused about ensuring that your life is well-lived and that you are the kinder version of yourself. Some lessons that I got from our catch up yesterday are: 1 Money would never be the end-all, be-all solution to major health issues. This is one of my biggest what if’s during mom’s eight-year battle with GBS. You told me that I did a good job and that sabi mo nga, I won’t regret a thing, looking back. More so, career level up is NOT just transactional. It’s highly dependent on how your initiative is able to make a mark on people; no matter how tiny some marks make. While deadlines are hard to beat, inspiring people is tougher but really worthwhile. 2 Starting a career at 30 or 40 does not matter. Tawang-tawa ka sa akin yesterday when I brought this up. You teased me about how much tears I shed over pizza and beer because I was too naive, ages ago. And that, how I tried to marry realities and failed because, isa-isa lang talaga dapat. HAHAHAHA. Back when I was 24 until 28, I hated you when you told me to focus on mom. Feeling ko back then, you just threw a consuelo de bobo pep talk; and that, I’m too self-giving while loathing myself for choosing the shitty road less taken. Though I have a whole lot more ground to cover career-wise, thank you for always sending really awesome medical people to guide me and comfort me. I will never forget how you asked me to go to Manila Doctors to align with your trusted doctor the morning I had to decide about mom’s last breath. You told me that it’s okay to cry but I have to grow up and give my mom her last wish. You told me to calm down and that I got this and you got me, too. I remember you said sorry because you were on a business trip; but, you were sure as hell that I was in good hands. I can never thank you enough for this life chapter, Dad. Tinawanan mo lang ako kahapon sabay sabi: Sabi ko sa’yo e. ‘Di ba? 3 It’s okay to walk away from toxic spaces without having to explain yourself. Time is the ultimate truth bearer. Self-worth is a must. Do not mind the noise no matter who much pull you are getting. Never be shaken by things, people and events that do not matter. Get the right people and have the right attitude. All jobs require 10% IQ and 90% EQ. It’s easier said than done but can be done when you know how to strike the balance between being a lone wolf and being a part of a pack. While being a lone wolf is totally fine, a pack allows you to know more about yourself and how you can come together for goals that go beyond the numbers and the wins. 4 Life is a game of helping people with your gift and your curse, too. Talents always come with limits. While you ought to hone your talents, befriending your liabilities is more important. Your insecurities are your opportunities that need more time in the dark room. Your shame and vulnerabilities allow you to be in touch with your true strengths. You just have to pivot and get creative. Stay hungry and curious. It takes time and sometimes, you’d be surprised when these curses turn around. It’s okay to be dyslexic. It’s okay to have two left feet. It’s okay to be a simple girl in a big, big world. 5 South is the ultimate place to be. While the North is charming, South is where the heart, the home and the hood is. Enough said.

6 Walking is a session for brewing ideas. I’d be back to walking before throwing punches with a boxing coach. While boxing allows me to manage my anger better, truth is, walking allows me to think more intentionally. If only the beach is near me, this routine could have been more leisurely. Thank you, universe for the nearby park in my work hood. :) Not much, but very accessible, especially for the coming Juno szn. 7 Black coffee from a local farmer is best when shared. You shared that during your business and personal trips in far-flung places in Pinas, you always bring your own french press and your handpicked Sagada beans. I’d be back to Americano because sige na nga, coffee is the key. Basta in moderation lang. Was about to say that you’re OD-ing on coffee pero sige, I shall let that bit pass. HAHAHAHAHA. Matanda ka na. Kaya mo na ‘yan. 8 Wine gets better with the right company. Wine nights are best done with a specific goal in mind. :D Maipilit lang. Gusto ko pang maging poetic pero wala namang lusot dito. It is what it is.

9 Your shoulder can withstand the world’s wickedest weight and an unfathomable height. As a punggok na laging hirap mag-abot ng mga matataas na bagay, this is a constant mental and emotional note. You always tell me to focus on the tasks to be done even when I don’t want to, and feel like I can not do it. You remind me to just keep walking. The burden may seem unbearable and unthinkable, but your shoulder is made to carry any load. It’s just a matter of being a little too crazy and seeing the other side of things. It’s just a matter of being too hard-headed and accepting that everything is either a win or a lesson.

10 You understand things as you move forward, not backward. This is perhaps one of the things I love most about our talks. Back when you shared Steve Jobs’ line about connecting the dots backward, it struck me. Life is not meant to be a straight line. It’s not even a line but a series of points that may seem too scattered but that just how it really is. A well-lived life is never linear. A well-lived life is a spiral that has its unique ebbs and flows. Comparing your life line to others is not worthwhile. Comparing your timeline to your ideal timeline is a dead end. Comparing is the biggest sin of millennials and everyone else, too. _________ I wanted to hug you during our catch up but, syempre, we don’t do that. :D Hahahaha. We’re not that cheesy but, I really want to tell you that I am beyond blessed to have you, dad! Lagot ka sa akin sa Father’s Day x birthday mo kahit ayaw mong nigi-greet ka. :D Lels. Praying for your health and your happy old age with your apos, your wife, your kids and all the people you have meaningful connections with! May you continue to inspire and ignite more people, dragon! PS: Actually, eto dapat ‘yung entry ko last night but the previous thought fart was a test if I can still manage to write something even when I’ve finished a whole bottle of wine. :D Kalat pero saks lang. Raw ‘yung kagabi saka puweds naman na rin.

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thecpdiary · 1 year

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Mental Health Crisis at Terrifying Levels

Stats in England tell us the UK is lagging behind its European counterpart, when it comes to mental health. My blog stats tell me the same thing.

Writing helps minimise and place some of my thoughts brought about through anxiety, but external influences continue to play their part around my mental health, and I am sure I am not the only one.

The NHS is failing to treat 250,000 children with mental health problems. (Source: the guardian, 2023). 1 in 6 adults experience a mental health issue, such as depression and/or anxiety in England. (Source: myndup.com. 2023)

Mental health is hitting the most vulnerable. It's also hitting teens, the young, the cost-of-living crisis is also adding to our mental health problems. "The Rosena Allin-Khan Interview: "There is a mental health crisis and it’s only going to get worse" - (Source: politicshome)

We're not talking about or dealing with Mental Health

We're not talking about or dealing with mental health. Covid-19 has also changed the way we deal with mental health.

The NHS

The NHS is in crisis. In the last few years, the NHS has seen demand increases, while also coping with over a decade of prolonged underfunding. Earlier this year, many hospitals recorded the worst A&E wait times on record, with the president of the Royal College of Emergency Medicine, Dr Adrian Boyle, saying that up to 500 people were dying each week as a result of delays in emergency care.

NHS Staff Shortages

"Meanwhile, staff shortages within the NHS are increasing. Figures show that 400 workers leave the NHS every week and around 10% of posts are unfilled. I’ve never done a shift with a full team of staff and, often, we’re covering more than just our own job. This results in being overworked while putting patient safety at risk. Within the NHS, I have found that there is little support for those suffering mental health issues.

In the last 12 months, 52% of doctors have reported suffering poor mental health with burnout affecting more than three quarters of hospital doctors, on the frontline. There is now a National Physician Suicide Awareness Day as doctors are up to four times more likely to die by suicide compared to the general population." - Eloise Hart

The Research

Research has found that many struggling doctors do not seek help due to the stigma within the medical profession, feeling shame and guilt to take on the ‘patient’ role.

A 2-year qualified junior doctor, talks openly about her struggles:

"I know I’ve really struggled returning to work due to fear of how I’ll be perceived. I have to remind myself that healthcare workers are human too and it’s OK to admit when you’re struggling. I am due to return to work next month having been for four months. It will be difficult to return to work, but I am determined to speak openly about my mental health issues, particularly as the majority of us are facing the same." - Eloise Hart

Medical Staff signing off work, sick due to mental health

Eloise had to sign off from work due to mental health issues. Although she knew it would be hard for her to return to work, she was determined to speak openly about her mental health issues, understanding the majority will be experiencing the same. The virus isn't gone and many of us are still there. (Source: https://www.metro.co.uk)

Conclusion

The NHS has been in crisis for years now. In Covid-19 it's moved to critical status. I've been talking about mental health on and off my blog now for 13 years and even in the early days of writing, mental health, although it wasn't always being overlooked and people were reading my blog, I'm not sure how many were being proactive enough to deal with their mental health.

The bounce rate on my blog is very low, which means people are reading 'the blog of the day' but nothing else.

Also, in Covid-19 the world changed and mental health took an even bigger tumble. I wonder now what it's going to take for the world to wake up, for each of us to start dealing with our mental health. The stark reality is cancer rates have gone from 1 in 4 to 1 in 2, which means one in two people will get cancer in their lifetime. That has everything to do with mental health. I wonder just how many people will read this blog.

I've talked about mental health throughout my writing career. My blog spans mental health. I can't stress enough how important it is to start taking care of you, to start being proactive and to deal with your mental health. With 13 years of blogs covered, my website would be a good place to start, or check out and buy one of my books. They all deal with mental health. Our mental health, our lives are literally depending on us taking control and being proactive on mental health.

If you are interested in dealing with your mental health, my books are available to purchase on my website here https://www.thecpdiary.com/my-books/

For more inspirational, life-changing blogs, please check out my site https://www.thecpdiary.com

#thecpdiary #blog #MentalHealthCrisis #at #TerrifyingLevel #Emotions #MentalHealthMatters #MentalHealthAwareness #Anxiety #Depression #Autism #Bipolar #NHS #Teens #Youngpeople #BeProactive #Covid19

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creaturebehavior · 1 year

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damn. life hurts. i think i’ve been having a really hard time.

i feel like i will never get out of this hole because the world wasn’t designed for me. i get burnt out every time i try to do what everybody else is doing

all i want is to run away. i have no income and nowhere to run.

i wish i at least had money for drugs.

i can’t believe i’m alive. i don’t want to do this anymore. i can’t wake up to this anymore.

i wish i at least could afford to use drugs. i can’t believe how suicidal i feel today. i haven’t felt this way in a really long time.

i wish i could be more normal. all i want is to work a little job and to make enough to get my needs met but i can’t even hold a conversation with a human or barely leave my house

I feel trapped. and i know if i try to kill myself again i’ll just end up not getting the help i need like every other time and for some reason i can never fucking die like i just won’t die i always live no matter how many overdoses or seizures are car crashes or the whole town burning down while i’m driving through it in my car but for some cruel reason i just won’t die.

i have to find another way. i’m honestly kind of afraid to die but i’m also so afraid to keep on living. i think if i were to seriously attempt suicide again, i would try carbon monoxide poisoning in my car in the garage but i’m just afraid i would have too much time to change my mind. i always think a lot about hanging myself so that i can’t change my mind but i can’t find anywhere in my house to hang myself from.

idek. i’ve been having a really bizarre week, mentally. i lot of flashbacks. a lot of dreams. a lot of recent fumbled social interactions m, reinforcing my fear of interacting with people. a lot of awareness around my behavior, past and present and how toxic of a person i’ve always been. i don’t know how to heal from this or change. i’m in so much pain all the time i’m such a selfish person, i’m just like my dad, my whole life is about how much pain i’m in and making it every im else’s problem. This is the reason why i avoid people and isolate myself from everyone, because i don’t know how to behave. i don’t know how to not act out. i don’t know how to regulate my emotions. i don’t know how to filter my thoughts. even if it’s accidental, i am rude. i feel feral. i feel completely detached from the song and dance everyone does with each other. i have such low empathy. i find it hard to care about anybody. i’m so burnt out, i find it hard to continue to politely pretend i care about anybody.

i’m clearly very unwell. at least i’m aware of it now, right? i just can’t fathom how i’m gonna get better. i’m exhausted. i don’t know how to try to care i don’t know how to be better. i cut myself off from the world. i try so hard in my little interactions when i run my necessary errands and i try to be nice but i still am accidentally rude and i come off very strangely. whenever i’m stone cold sober i appear to be on drugs because i’m so out of touch with reality and i’m so mentally fucked in the head. don’t know what it is. severe dissociation and anxiety i guess. I have been having to confront my internalized ableism as i haven’t been this sick in awhile, and the older i get the slightly more self aware i’m becoming. I realize how visibly ill i am. and it’s been difficult to bring that around other people because i feel so much shame being as.. out of whack… as i am. i wish i could hold it in but i just can’t mask anymore. i got so burnt out and i’m so sick.

ugh. i don’t know how i’m gonna get past this. i know something obviously needs to change. clearly i need some kind of help but i’m scared to get vulnerable with more mental health professionals. i’ve had some bad experiences in recent history that really messed up my relationship with therapy and treatment. i’ve developed trust issues that i know i’m going to have to get over but they are very real. my last therapist made me feel worse at every session but i kept seeing her because i was convinced it was a me problem, because i have a really difficult time opening up to people already. we didn’t click but i saw her for like two years because i thought i just needed to warm up to her because i already have trouble trusting anybody. and now i’m all screwed up cuz we had so many bad sessions i can barley remember what it’s like to have a good therapy session and when i reflect on all the years i’ve been in therapy and i’ve only really connected with one therapist out of idek what feels like countless therapists i’ve tried. It’s so hard to find someone i feel i can be open with.

idek. i feel stuck

#processing

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tangerinesunbeam · 4 years

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#HELLO this is pathetic sadness so don’t read if that’s not your jazz #but i’ve been personally having a great year #i’ve focused on myself and taken care of myself in ways i never thought i would be capable of this year #like literally ever in my life #but i’ve done it #and it was so hard #but i broke some pretty u healthy habits #and i am So proud of that #and not 2 be fake deep but one of the main things i’ve got to look forward to and to let myself enjoy as a present from me to me #was h on tour #and this last werk or two i’ve accidentally fallen off the wagon a little bit #and i’m feeling really vulnerable and low and i’ve had enough of my job that i’ve cried when i got home like three days in a row #and to come on and see ‘lost tour visuals’#is really Not It #i’m like.....So indescribably sad #and i get it!!!!!!! i get it #and i was expecting it anyway #but to see it in a piece of official media really just hit me in ways i wasn’t expecting #so here i am in bed having a nice little cry again #Anyway pls ignore the typos i’m not retyping anything #sometimes i feel i should write in a journal but it always feels too formal #also i have perfectionist anxiety so it would never happen anyway lmao #but writing in the tags is just so perfect for trains of thought consciousness #how could anything else measure up?#Anyway i gotta go to sleep so goodnight everybody #s

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momobani · 2 years

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What’s *really* wrong with Secretary Kim? - chapter 5 (final)

Secretary!Mingyu x fem!reader / 3.6k

Sum: your happy ending.

chapter warnings: fluff, smut, sub!mingyu x softdom!femreader, oral (male receiving), edging, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (be safe!)

A/N: it’s the last chapter, it’s been a blast writing this, this fic really does feel like my magnum opus (magnus opum as Mingyu would say), I hope you like it! I’m working on some stuff so stay tuned!

If you have any thoughts on this, then feel free to use my inbox, I’m new at this so idk if I’m even doing it right lol, enjoy!

Taglist: @lavendersvt , @fav9yu

Chapter 5

It wasn’t until noon that Mingyu made an appearance in your kitchen. You’d been sitting on your couch, attempting to read a book but had been uncomfortably on edge, anticipating Mingyu coming down at any moment. You stayed there two hours, words floating in front of you, hieroglyphics that you had zero interest in. You heard his quiet shuffling down the stairs and took a deep breath.

He appeared, utterly dishevelled in last night’s clothes, hair fluffy and sticking up cutely. He seemed dazed and a little confused to find himself in your house, walking in as if he was walking into Narnia for the first time. Except there was no Mr Tumnus to greet him, but his tense boss sitting on the couch, staring at him.

“How did I get here?” He croaked.

“Seokmin dropped you off.” Mingyu muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like ‘that bastard’. You patted the seat next to you. “C’mere. Did you drink the water and painkillers?” He nodded and sat next to you, unsure how to face you. “Good boy. How’re you feeling?”

“Honestly, I’ve been worse.” He said quietly, fidgeting under your gaze. Seeing him this soft and vulnerable made your heart contract. You’d tried to recall another time when you’d felt like this; suddenly wanting to pull him into a hug, hold him close and pat his head, stroking his hair. But you came up short; you hadn’t let your feelings crystallise like you had now.

“Mingyu, we need to talk.” You kept your tone low and gentle so as not to frighten him. Classic Mingyu freaked out anyway. His head whipped towards you, alarmed and eyes shaking.

“No, please don’t quit! I know you’ve been stressed but didn’t your vacation help? If it didn’t I’ll clear your schedule and give some of your meetings to Mr Yoon. He has a lot more time on his hands than he lets on but he doesn’t bring it up ‘cause he doesn’t want to work over time like you do-” he stopped when he saw your face. You were tearing up as you watched him babble desperately. “No! Don’t cry, Bo-”

“I love you, Mango.” You sniffled, unable to keep it together anymore. You’d thought about it for the better part of the night, trying to figure your feelings out and what you wanted to do next, both with Mingyu and with your job. The time off had made you strangely serene and had given you time to relax enough to make proper, thought out decisions. You knew what your heart was saying and the rest came easily.

You thought Mingyu.exe stopped functioning. He was stuck, a still image on your couch, silent and barely breathing. You waved a hand in front of his face. “‘Gyu?” He finally blinked, at least.

“Am I still asleep?” He murmured to himself, brows furrowing pensively. You burst out laughing at his adorableness.

“Honey, you’re awake.” You assured him, taking one of his hands in both of yours and squeezing it gently. He was finally starting to get with the programme.

“You love me?” He asked, making big puppy eyes at you. How could it not melt your heart? You nodded.

“I do, so much.” you shuffled closer to him and adjusted yourself so you’re eye level with him. “You’re so sweet-” you reached to kiss his cheek. “Caring,” you kissed his other cheek. “So lovely,” kiss. “Kind,” kiss. “And so precious.” You finally pecked his lips, drawing back to see a light pink blush pepper his cheeks where you’d kissed him. A shy smile was blooming across his face, he hummed quietly. Then:

“I love you too.”

You felt a huge smile appear on your face as you tackled Mingyu into a hug, ignoring how his shirt reeked of alcohol for a moment, before reaching to kiss him again. This time he reciprocated enthusiastically following your lead. You didn’t care about the smell of his shirt but he tasted of day old alcohol and despair so you pulled away quickly.

“Baby, I love you but I can’t kiss you with that mouth.”

“Sorry,” he pursed his lips guiltily. You smiled at his cuteness and let your fingers wander to the buttons of his shirt and started popping each one. Mingyu gulped. “What a-are you doing?” He asked but made no objection. You popped the last one and looked at him.

“Putting your shirt in the laundry, now go take a damn shower, ‘Gyu.” You kissed his nose and prodded him away.

***

You stood alone in the laundry room, reflecting on everything as the machine clattered on; you’d put a bunch of things in with Mingyu’s shirt to economise as he took a shower. One part was done, but you still had to deal with all the work stuff - you hadn’t told Mingyu about your plans yet. You thought it would completely overwhelm him, so you didn’t.

It had been Friday night during your talk with Jeonghan that you’d sort of made the decision, pitching the idea to him to see if he was okay with it too. After all, it would affect him too eventually. He’d taken it surprisingly well, agreeing with the pros and cons and hypothetical scenarios that you listed to him. The whole conversation was a huge weight off your chest, finally feeling like a breakthrough for you.

You went to the sun room to hang out as you waited for Mingyu to finish.

Not five minutes later he reappeared, same jeans on and shirtless with a towel in hand as he dried his hair half-heartedly. Despite the towel in his possession, there were still some stray water droplets making their way over his shoulders and torso. Your eyes were glued to them, watching their progress as they rolled lower and lower…

“Are you checkin’ me out right now, Boss?” Mingyu asked teasingly, not missing an opportunity to flex the arm that was holding the towel as he caught you practically drooling over him. Maybe you had made him cocky after all, or he’s always been and waiting for the opportunity to let it shine. You narrowed your eyes and cocked up an eyebrow.

“Got a problem with that, honey?” You purred and stood up. In a heartbeat, Mingyu was tongue-tied, clutching the towel in front of him, wide-eyed as he watched you approach him. “I thought you liked the attention; didn’t you like it when I took pictures of you? And look at you now, trying to flex your big muscles for me.”

“I like it when you look at me.” He mumbled, cockiness gone in an instant. “I like it when you touch me too.” He added shyly. You cornered him against the wall, bringing your hands to rest on his hips.

The tall man in front of you shivered at your touch.

“Like this?” You trailed one hand up his torso, fingertips brushing against his body lightly, causing a wave of goosebumps to appear across his smooth skin. You leaned in to kiss him gently, keeping your hand between you as it found its way to one of his pecs, rolling over one hard nipple. Mingyu hummed into your mouth, body heating up.

“Hm, you like that, baby?” You whispered against his lips, free hand holding the back of his head towards you, playing with the short hair at the back of his neck.

“Y-yeah,” he breathed out, eyes half-closed as he looked at you. You smirked at how affected he was; you hadn’t even started playing properly yet.

“You’re so cute,” you trailed your thumb over his lips as you admired how beautiful he was like this, already half gone without you even doing anything. “Do you want more, darling?” You inquired, already pretty certain what the answer was going to be. He nodded vigorously.

“Yes, please.”

“Such a polite boy, too.” You remarked as you led him to the storage bench love seat. You made him sit down as you stood in front of him. You decided to tug off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing to reveal your bare torso, leaving you in just some sleep shorts. Mingyu’s eyes bugged out of his head as they roamed over the curves of you body, enticed at a glance.

You stepped towards him and went to kiss him again. His mouth followed yours hungrily, kissing you back with a passion. It was divine; just feeling his mouth against yours. A random thought popped into your head.

“Am I turning into one of those stereotypical CEOs who fucks their secretary?” You pulled away from the kiss, thinking out loud.

“I’m not objecting!” Mingyu grinned and bought your mouth back to his.

You straddled Mingyu, lips locked and ran your fingers down the side of his face, down his neck, curling around his bare shoulder and snaking down his arm until you reached his hand. You grabbed it, brought up and pinned his wrist to the wall, leaning into him and making his back hit the wall too. He writhed under your touch, hips bucking up, erection grinding against your core as he whimpered when you bit his lip gently.

“Please, do something,” he whined into your kiss. You smiled at his patheticness, grinding down on him as you ignored his plea. You moved your searing kiss down to his jaw, free hand angling his face for access, nipping and pecking at the soft skin as he whined again. “Please!”

“Please what, honey?” You sucked a love bite on his neck as he struggled to answer, hips moving involuntarily against you, sending tingles to your lower abdomen.

“Please touch me, fuck me, anything!” He drew out the ‘anything’ as his voice trembled.

“But I am touching you, baby. And only good boys get fucked. Be a good boy and be patient for me, you got it?” You asked him, letting go of his face and wrist in favour of standing up. Mingyu’s arms shot up to hold on to your hips, as if he was scared you’d just leave him there, desperate and untouched. “I didn’t hear you, ‘Gyu?” You prompted him.

“Yes, I’ll be good, I p-promise.” He nodded, as if trying to convince himself more than you.

“Good boy.” You smiled at his cuteness before moving his legs to accommodate yourself between his thighs. “Here’s the deal; I’m going to suck you off and if you come without my permission, I won’t let you fuck my pussy, alright?”

“Yes, please, I need your mouth!” He whimpered miserably.

“Gosh, such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” You remarked as you kissed down his torso and tugged on the waistband of his jeans, making him lift his hips as you took down his boxers with the rest. His cock sprang free and smacked against his abs with a gentle thwack. You wasted no time drawing closer and starting to lick a stripe along the side of his shaft, from base to head as you held onto his thighs for leverage. Mingyu took a deep breath when your tongue made contact with his skin, exhaling when you repeated the action on the other side.

He sucked in a gulp of air when he felt you let a glob of spit fall onto the head of his cock, your hand following as you started to smear it around and down the shaft, mixing it with any pre-cum from the tip, beginning to jerk him off for a bit. You built a rhythm for a few moments, watching his face as he got used to it, only to take your hand away and replace it with your mouth around the head of his cock. You ran your tongue over the slit several times, keeping your eyes on the way Mingyu’s rolled to the back of his head, a breathy sigh leaving his lips. You took more of him into your mouth and started sucking, holding on to his thighs when he jolted at the sensation.

You let yourself breathe for a moment and switched to jerking him off, one hand on his shaft, the other moving from his thigh to his balls, to add to the sensation. He jolted again, eyes shooting open and whines increasing in volume.

“You close, honey?” you asked him, a little breathlessly.

“Fuck, yes, really close, please keep going!” He moaned. You smirked at how easy he was. You went back to sucking the head of his cock, getting ambitious and taking more of him and starting to deep throat him. Mingyu moaned loudly, one hand coming to rest on the side of you head, as you bobbed up and down. You hummed appreciatively around him and he almost yelped as a buzz of pleasure shot through him. He was starting to twitch so you let go of him and slid his cock out of your mouth with a slurpy pop.

The look of devastation on Mingyu’s face said it all, he whined at the loss of contact as you ripped his orgasm away.

“No fair,” he mumbled, a pout forming on his lips. You leaned up and kissed him, then bopped his nose.

“But you were so good for me, baby, now you get to fuck me.” You brushed some of the hair hanging in his eyes away and kissed his forehead softly, before standing once again to rid yourself of your remaining clothes. You straddled him like before, the two of you naked on the storage bench as you started to kiss him deeply and hungrily again. You’d been focused on Mingyu’s pleasure but that didn’t mean you weren’t starting to feel a gentle throbbing at your core for friction.

As you kissed him, you let the shaft of his cock slide against your folds, hitting your clit, a delicious thrum of pleasure coursing through you, wetness spreading over your slit and his cock. Without breaking the kiss, you lined yourself up and started to sink down his shaft, a duo of strangled moans echoing in your sun room, unsure of who was louder. You felt the head of his cock reaching deep inside of you and making you gasp at the fullness as his girth stretched you beautifully.

You started moving after a moment of adjustment, both for you and for him, hips moving back and forth, grinding down on his thighs. He was so deep inside and you couldn’t help the groans that formed at the back of your throat.

“L-love it when you sound like that.” He mumbled, face buried in your neck, unable to contain his own groan as you switched to bouncing up and down his cock. His hands had been resting on your hips but now started to support your rapid movement, helping you build up intensity.

“Shit, that’s so good, just like that.” You sighed, as you felt Mingyu’s hands guiding your hips as he bucked his to match your pace. Soon all you could focus on was the raw pleasure flowing through your body, letting your entangled moans bounce off each other and the walls as the sound of skin slapping skin lewdly echoed through the room. You held on to his meaty biceps and shoulders for balance, trying your best to stay upright and not slump against him.

Instead you pulled him impossibly closer, chest to chest and went to kiss him. His mouth found yours desperately as you continued your erratic pace, Mingyu whining into your mouth as he got closer to his end. You weren’t far behind him but your legs were starting to give out, so you went back to grinding down with a wiggle of your hips. By stroke of luck or stroke game (who knew really?), you found the perfect angle where you gasped and almost screamed at the way the head of his cock brushed against your walls.

Mingyu felt the new way you clenched around him and got inspired, moving his hips in sync with yours, the storage bench creaking underneath you Baby Don’t Like It style, as you put that IKEA furniture to the test. You couldn’t control your moans as you felt your impending orgasm build up, letting Mingyu help you keep up the intense pace.

Within a heartbeat you were coming, a droned groan escaping your throat as you felt Mingyu fuck you through it, hips stuttering as he followed you in moments. He moaned your name as he stilled during his orgasm, panting and leaning back against the wall, pulling you against him. You propped yourself up enough to kiss Mingyu’s forehead gently, the two of you coming down and stabilising again.

“Are you okay, baby?” You asked him, tired fingers brushing his hair out of his face. He nodded, eyes opening and adjusting to the light. “Are you hungry? You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday?”

“A little,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Let’s get cleaned up and I’ll make us something.” You started to get up but Mingyu caught your hand and pulled you back for a second.

“Let me make it.” You tried not to take offence but he was right; better for you and the well being of your kitchen.

“Fine.”

***

After cleaning up and eating, you spent the rest of the day in bed, doing nothing in particular and each other, being close and closer and enjoying each other’s company. It was some sort of bliss before you had to go back to work.

You’d discussed what you were going to do about your job with Mingyu as you lay down, his head on your chest and you played with his hair. It wasn’t quite as shocking to him as you thought it might be. Then again, he was good at psychically anticipating some of your moves, as he’d proven time and time again.

You’d decided not to quit after all, but you were only going to keep your CEO position until the end of the year then perhaps swap with Jeonghan or promote one of the senior directors like Seungcheol or Joshua to take the position, depending on how the board of directors took the news and voted.

You’d become a director too, which meant that you wouldn’t necessarily need a secretary, but perhaps someone in your team depending on how management positions would change. It also meant that you’d have a little more time on your hands to spend on the things that you liked, like the photography hobby you’d picked up. It was crazy how much better you felt after returning to something you loved.

It was like Mingyu had told you: you don’t have to good at your hobbies to have them.

“Seokmin told me the other day there was an opening in the HR department under Mr Hong. I thought that maybe if you did go then I’d try that out.” Mingyu moved his head to peek up at you.

“Hmm, maybe it’s time for something new for the both of us, you should go for it.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I mean Human Resources isn’t bad, right? And as a human you’re very resourceful so…” you trailed off. Mingyu propped himself to face you properly.

“That’s the sort of bullshit I would try to say.” He pouted. “I’m rubbing off on you.” He said satisfaction clear in his voice. You laughed at his cuteness.

“Well, you are my favourite human, it makes sense.” You felt a sweet warmth blooming in your chest as you said it, feeling silly at all these cheesy things, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

Epilogue: several months later

You woke up to an empty bed and automatically assumed you were running late. Today was the first day that you weren’t going to be CEO any more and you needed to formally hand over everything to Jeonghan, who’d been voted CEO by the directors in the end. He’d been surprised that he’d been the choice but you hadn’t had any doubts about it, knowing that most of the directors were happy to have him in charge.

(You’d given a promotion to Wonwoo to senior director about a month ago, not only to keep an eye on and support Jeonghan but because he’d earned by helping you expand your deal with Wen Electronics in the past few months.)

“Babe, get up, breakfast is ready!” You heard Mingyu calling from the kitchen. The two of you had been spending more time together (if that was even possible) since he was staying over more and more often.

Somehow in record time you managed to get ready just as Harrison was pulling up to your house. You put your shoes on slowly, feeling a little mischievous. He’d insisted to give you one last ride to work after you’d declined to keep his services when you moved to your new position. You felt like finally buying your own car and driving it too. (You and Mingyu had already bought it together and decided to carpool and had even christened the car in an empty parking lot.)

When you sat down with Mingyu by your side, you saw the old man’s mouth gap open, clearly not expecting to see your gentleman caller getting into the car too.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, sir, we overslept.” You smiled innocently. He feigned clearing his throat, clearly a little embarrassed, and started the engine.That should teach him to nose about other people’s personal lives.

You took the elevator up to your old office one last time, Mingyu by your side as always and found Jeonghan’s newly hired secretary Seungkwan standing to attention at his new (Mingyu’s old) desk.

“Morning, Miss.” he seemed bright and fresh as a daisy. He clearly hadn’t started work yet.

“Morning,” you greeted him back. “Mr Boo, this is Mr Kim.” You introduced the two in passing, as you ducked into your office to look over the pile of paperwork awaiting your best friend.

“Excuse me, who are you?” You hear Seungkwan ask Mingyu. You forgot they hadn’t done their handover yet; Mingyu was doing it all today as per Jeonghan’s instruction.

“I’m you, but promoted.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “And taller. So you’re Mr Yoon’s new secretary?”

“Yes,” Seungkwan replied enthusiastically.

“Godspeed.”

***

#seventeen #kim mingyu #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #kim mingyu scenarios #kim mingyu imagines #seventeen x reader #kim mingyu x reader #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #seventeen fluff #kim mingyu fluff #sub!seventeen #sub!mingyu #sub!idol #momobani.writes

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

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Please say more abt how Martin fits the closed off trait I'm begging 👁👁

Okay, so I got a bit carried away with this and it got quite lengthy....

I've put a TLDR above the cut and the details, transcripts, and general discussion below the cut!

TLDR: Martin is at his core a closed-off character who keeps his vulnerable feelings hidden and close to his chest. He instead focuses on caring for others and considering their feelings above his own, particularly in the case of Jon, who he cares for (sometimes to the point of self-sacrifice) throughout the podcast. His arc with the Lonely in season four and his interactions with Jon in season five demonstrate this lack of emotional vulnerability, and it's really only during the moments he spends by himself that we get significant insight into Martin's emotional state and inner thoughts.

Martin, to me, is a character who is very used to hiding how he feels. He tends to care for others at the expense of himself, has low self-esteem, and has a predilection towards the Lonely, all of which go hand-in-hand with somebody who is very used to hiding their emotions--particularly the negative ones--because they either think they're not important or that they're inconvenient and inappropriate for the situation. On a textual level, that's probably due to growing up with a sick (and likely unsupportive) mother who he had to take care of, where there was 'no time' for his emotions to get in the way or for him to prioritize himself in any way, shape, or form.

Martin is self-destructive, dislikes moments of emotional vulnerability, and (I would argue) genuinely struggles when he doesn't have somebody else to prioritize over himself. (His mother at first, but as the series goes on, Jon settles comfortably into this role for him.) Additionally, the biggest way that we, the audience, know anything about Martin's emotional state is when he's alone and self-reflecting (such as in MAG 170 and 186 or when talking to the tapes) or when he's forced to talk about something vulnerable (such as when Jon confronted him about his CV).

We don't get much insight into Martin's character between seasons one and three (at least not as much as we get in four and five), but I find myself drawn to this bit in MAG 118, when Martin is talking to Elias:

MARTIN

So what? I don’t get to be angry? I don’t get to burn things? Just, just run around, making tea, while everyone else gets to actually have feelings?

I think two things are important to note here. The first is that Elias is surprised (or least intrigued) that Martin is acting in this way--specifically, acting on his emotions in such a dramatic way. (And given that Martin is doing this as a distraction, rather than actually acting out because of his own emotions, maybe he's right to be surprised.) The second is that this line very much implies that Martin doesn't talk about how he's feeling, not like 'everyone else' does. He doesn't talk about it, doesn't act on it--just 'runs around, making tea.' And when Melanie comes back in after Elias is done, Martin immediately focuses on the plan and whether it succeeded, ignoring Melanie when she asks if he's okay or not. He closes himself off, and as far as we know, doesn't talk about it at all after that.

And then Jon goes into his coma, and we reach season four.

Martin is incredibly closed-off during season four. He's self-isolating, self-sacrificial, and approaching a state of genuine emotional numbness by the time he's cast into the Lonely. There's a lot to unpack there, but I'm going to focus on a few main things, many of which can be drawn from this bit in MAG 158:

MARTIN

It’s not him! It’s not anybody. It’s just me. Always has been. I…

When I first came to you, I thought I had lost everything. Jon was dead, my mother was dead, the job I had put everything into trapped me into spreading evil and I… I really didn’t care what happened to me. I told myself I was trying to protect the others, but… honestly we didn’t even like each other. Maybe I just thought joining up with you would be a good way to get killed.

And then… Jon came back, and… and suddenly I had a reason I had to keep your attention on me. Make you feel in control so you didn’t take it out on him. And if that meant drifting further away, so what? I’d already grieved for him. And if it meant now saving him, it was worth it.

When you started talking about the Extinction, though… you had me actually, then, for a while. But then – (laughs sardonically) then, you tried to make me the hero. Tried to sell me on the idea that I was the only one who could stop it. And that I’ve never sat right with me. I mean, I mean, look – look at me, I’m not exactly a – a chosen one. But by then I was in too deep. So I played along. Waited to see what your end game was, and here we are.

Funny. Looks like I was right the first time. It’s probably still a good way to get killed?

This monologue is a big insight into Martin's thought process during this season, and I'm mostly going to focus on two parts: the self-sacrifice and the prioritization of Jon.

Self-sacrifice

There's quite a bit of discussion about Jon's self-sacrificial tendencies, but less so about Martin's, both in this season and in season five. In my opinion, Jon's self-sacrificial tendencies originate from (among other things) survivor's guilt from his traumatic childhood experience with Mr. Spider, his increasing belief that he's less than human, and the fact that he prioritizes the lives of others over his own. Martin's self-sacrificial tendencies, while very similar, come from the fact that he thinks he only has worth if he can help and care for someone else and the fact that he doesn't think he's important enough to live. (For example, he says in MAG 158 that he's 'not exactly a chosen one' and says in MAG 198 that he's 'not important enough to kill.')

It's a subtle difference between these two things, and I would argue that while Jon's tendencies are more rooted in the 'help' (ie, 'I want to help other people and I will sacrifice myself to do it'), Martin's tendencies are more rooted in the 'hurt' (ie, 'I will sacrifice myself and other people will be helped in the process'). There is, of course, overlap, and it's not a black-and-white distinction between the two, but ultimately, I think Martin is so used to prioritizing others' emotions and needs above his own that when he's left mostly alone as he is at the end of season three, with the only person left to hold onto being in a coma (possibly forever), he falls back into the same patterns of self-destruction and closed-offness, only without the 'help' to go along with the 'hurt' because there is nobody left to help (especially after his mother dies). Ultimately, he joins up with Peter because he thinks it 'would be a good way to get killed.'

Prioritization of Jon

But then Jon wakes up from his coma, and now Martin has justification for his self-sacrifice again, because he can protect Jon by continuing to work with Peter!

... Maybe.

Jon isn't harmed by Peter during season four, sure, but he does climb into the coffin and visits Ny-Ålesund and is tracked down by Julia and Trevor and struggles emotionally and morally with his own humanity and is hurt, in a way, by the distance Martin puts between them. And I hesitate to place blame for the apocalypse on anybody but Jonah, but if we're going to argue in-canon that Jon was responsible for the apocalypse (he wasn't, but that's not the point of this post), then Martin contributed to that blame and responsibility because it was his actions and decisions that ultimately drew Jon into the Lonely and resulted in him getting the 14th and final mark. (Again, I don't think Jon or Martin are at fault for the apocalypse, but if we were to blame Jon, we could blame Martin as well.) It was only after getting that mark that Jonah was able to use Jon to end the world, something that was hugely hurtful for Jon. So did Martin really protect Jon at all by staying away from him and continuing to work with Peter? Or was that just a convenient excuse to keep self-destructing?

Jon and Martin, in my opinion, had very similar arcs in season four. Martin was sinking further into the Lonely and Jon was sinking further into the Eye. We hear a lot more about Jon's emotional struggle with this given that he's the POV character, sure, but Jon also talks about this with other people. He talks about it to Helen (MAG 152):

JON

…

When does it stop?

HELEN

(impatient) What?

JON

The guilt. The misery. All the others I’ve met, they’ve been – cold, cruel. They’ve enjoyed what they do. When does the Eye (inhale) make me monstrous?

And to Daisy (MAG 136):

JON

My – (large sigh) My memories of the coma are not clear, but I know I made a choice; I made a choice to become… something else. Because I was afraid to die. But ever since then, I – I don’t know if I made the right decision; I’m stronger now, tougher, I can – (he cuts himself off) If I do die, now, or get sealed away somewhere forever? I don’t know if that’s a bad thing. And I don’t want to lose anyone else, so if I can maybe – stop that happening, and the only danger is to me, I – I’ll do it in a heartbeat; worst case scenario, the universe loses another monster.

But all we really get from Martin are the things he tells the tapes when he's alone and the monologue he gives in MAG 158. It makes sense that he wouldn't be as open, yes, given the nature of the Lonely, but I can't help but think of (MAG 154):

JON

The Lonely’s really got you, hasn’t it?

MARTIN

(no hesitation) You know, I think it always did.

Jon was always curious and hungry for knowledge; the Eye amplified it. Martin was always closed-off and isolated; the Lonely amplified that as well.

But then Jon pulls Martin out of the Lonely, they flee to the safehouse, and three weeks later, the apocalypse begins. Martin isn't as consumed by the Lonely as he was in season four, he's with Jon--the person he loves--for extended periods of time, and they're in an extremely stressful situation that's sure to be incredibly emotionally charged. There's a lot to be said about Jon's emotional vulnerability during season five and how Martin both pressures him for it and rejects it in different ways, but for the purposes of this post, I won't go too far into detail about the motivations behind how Jon is feeling and acting.

I will say, however, that in season five, Martin still continues to place a lot of focus on asking Jon how he's feeling, encouraging (or pressuring) him to share, and getting frustrated when Jon can't or doesn't (MAG 167):

MARTIN

Okay, so how exactly would you describe your current emotional state regarding all of this?

JON

I –

MARTIN

(overlapping) Go on, I’m all ears.

JON

I feel…

MARTIN

(go on) Mhm.

JON

(sigh) I feel… sad.

[Brief pause.] MARTIN

(flat) Sad.

JON

Very sad.

MARTIN

(*very* flat) Very sad.

[He sighs slightly as he says it. Their bags jangle.]

A few moments prior to this, Martin expresses displeasure that Jon is Knowing things about him, specifically pointing out his emotions (MAG 167):

MARTIN

It’s just – it’s weird knowing that you can know literally everything I think and feel. E-Especially since you’re not exactly the most open of people – emotionally, I mean.

I think Martin is making an effort to open up more to Jon. But I still think it's difficult for him to talk about how he feels so openly, and while he is completely in the right for not wanting Jon to Know things about him without his permission, I think it's interesting that the focus is on his feelings and that he brings up how Jon isn't emotionally open immediately after. It scares Martin to think that Jon could know, at any given moment, how he's feeling, and I think it's partially because he's not used to that level of vulnerability. He turns the focus on Jon, away from himself, and doesn't really make an effort to talk about how he's feeling about all of this, instead prioritizing Jon's feelings and mental state like he's grown comfortable with.

And when Martin bottles up his emotions--of which there are a lot, in such a stressful environment, they can explode out in hurtful ways:

MARTIN

(overlapping) I know! I know, okay, I just – (bracing exhale) Look, I j,just – don’t want to get burned, all right? It’s, it’s like my least favorite pain ever.

JON

Is that – a joke?

MARTIN

(a bit faster, a bit shaky) No, no, okay? I, I legitimately hate burns, alright? They’re, they’re awful, and they scar horribly, and they just – it – it just makes me sick; I, I hate it. Hate it!

I don't think Martin really thought about what he was saying when he told Jon, who has a large burn scar on his hand, that burn scars make him sick, and I don't think he meant it maliciously. But he'd spent the greater portion of the conversation talking around the fact that he didn't like burns and that was why he didn't want to go into the building, and so when it finally ended up coming out, it did so in an explosion of emotion rather than a conscious decision to share. Martin doesn't have a good handle on his emotions, and he doesn't have a good handle on sharing them.

(Is it too much for me to say that Martin was more emotionally vulnerable with himself in MAG 170 than he was with Jon when Jon finally found him?)

Throughout season five, Martin asks Jon questions, he expresses frustrations with Jon, he shows discomfort or fear at times, but for as much as Martin feels frustrated that Jon isn't talking about how he feels about their situation, Martin really isn't doing so either. The most he talks about his feelings is in MAG 170 and MAG 186, when he's by himself, and I remember MAG 186 in particular because before that, we really didn't know what Martin was thinking about for the majority of the season! And in this episode, we find out a lot of very important things about Martin's character. Like (MAG 186):

ALSO MARTIN

Look, I know what you know. Maybe I’m just a bit more… open about it.

Also-Martin acknowledges that Martin often doesn't say what he means and hides what he really feels, telling him that it's 'hard to be vulnerable,' and Martin is initially very resistant to the idea. And then, when Also-Martin suggests that Martin wants to stay so that he can be 'quietly sad,' we get (MAG 186):

MARTIN

We could talk to Jon about it.

ALSO MARTIN

We could. But we both know that loved ones make the worst therapists. They’re too wrapped up in trying to stop you hurting to actually help. But hey, we know all about that, am I right?

MARTIN

There’s nothing wrong with comforting people.

ALSO MARTIN

A cup of tea isn’t a resolution. At best it’s a… a plaster. At worst… a muzzle.

This is very interesting to me, because for all that Martin tries to help other people, he also believes that comfort doesn't always help and that you can't be your loved one's 'therapist.' I think this gives a lot of insight into why Martin doesn't share his emotions with the people he cares about, especially Jon; he doesn't want to put Jon in the position where he'll become his 'therapist,' and he doesn't necessarily think Jon can help. So instead, Martin just chooses not to be vulnerable at all, because he doesn't want to burden the people he cares about. But, when it's just him (MAG 186):

ALSO MARTIN

Don’t lie. You don’t need to. Not here. It’s just us.

He doesn't feel like he needs to pull his emotional punches. He can't accidentally hurt somebody or put them in an awkward position; it's just himself. But what's said to himself remains with himself, and (at least on tape), he doesn't discuss any of this with Jon. Not even the bit about, if it came down to it, Martin would have rather had Jon smite him than continue to rule over a domain. He goes right back to being closed-off around Jon, but now we, the audience, know what lies underneath, and how little of it reaches the surface.

In fact, the thing Martin's probably most vocal about is how Jon's feelings about himself bother him (MAG 199):

MARTIN

I guess that’s why it really bothers me, you know? I try, but I can’t actually imagine ever making a decision that I knew meant losing you.

And it… It hurts to know you can.

And I think he has a tendency to use anger and frustration to cover up hurt, shying away from the admission that something Jon's done has hurt him (an incredibly vulnerable thing) and instead relying on the less-vulnerable and more external anger to cover it. This is more speculation than true analysis, but I think that's a lot of what's happening in MAG 200, when he discovers that Jon has already assumed the position of the pupil and has, in Martin's eyes, broken his promise.

#tma #the magnus archives #martin blackwood #tma meta #jonathan sims #(because i do talk about jon a bit in this too)#i actually think martin isn't good with emotions at all #both his own and others'#i think he doesn't quite know what to do with them so he puts on a mask and defaults to things he knows will work #*thinks about the low empathy autistic martin high empathy autistic jon post with love in my heart*

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archive-of-note · 2 years

Text

🏳️‍🌈 Queer Pedro Character HCs🏳️‍🌈

Cause I’ve seen sm ppl worried about HC his characters as LGBT+, and I’ve seen sm others be mad about it. So of course I’m rubbing my grubby gay hands all over them.

Javier Peña

Bi(? He has no fucking clue tbh with you)

Def prefers women, but won’t deny (to himself at least, it is the 80s) that sm guys around the embassy have great asses.

He’s an ass man, there are a bunch of shots of him looking at women as they walk by and his eyes are obviously trailing down

Never really considered getting with a guy until he moved out to Columbia.

One male secretary/file clerk, a few too many late nights, BAM! Now he’s getting blowies in the supply closet on the semi-reg.

Eventually curiosity (and the feeling that he’s being a bit of an ass, never really getting the other guy off.) makes him broaden his horizons.

Din Djarin

Ace (is the place with the helpful hardware folks)

Doesn’t really know it’s an option

Just figures that, since he’s like the only one who can leave the Covert, then being hunted by the guild, then looking for Jedi he’s got a lot on his plate! So he thinks it’s just stress blunting his hypothetical libido.

Usually quite neutral regarding sex, it’s a thing ppl do, so what? But has been thankful for the canvas of his flightsuit and the thick armor of his Beskar

Xi’an makes him uncomfortable, they never had any sort of relationship, she just wanted to push his buttons and when there was no obvious reaction, she kept trying to up the ante.

Isn’t looking for romance but open to the possibility, his biggest worry is that he won’t be enough

@scribbledghost has a sweet Ace!Din fic and you should read it

Also very little concept of gender roles, you’d have basically non either if you grew up surrounded by ppl in armor who cared more about number of people you could lay flat like a picnic blanket

“Is that a blaster in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?”

*Din pulls out a gun*: it’s a blaster

Pero Tovar

Genuine affection means a lot more to him then he thinks.

Demisexual feels close but not right(? You know what I mean? Like it’s just a lil off, like horseshoes)

Never factored actual care into his plans for the future, he was fully prepared to live the rest of his days fat with a rotating selection of prostitutes coming and going from his lap.

He’s got low self esteem under all that crusty grime and dirt. He didn’t factor actual affection in because he didn’t think he could have it. He’d always assumed he’d just be tolerated.

Had feelings for William for a while, freaked out about that.

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels

BI! No I will not be taking questions or criticisms at this time.

Married his high school sweetheart, so he doesn’t rlly consider that he might not be straight until after he joins Statesmen.

It initially leaves him a bit off kilter, cause he’s lived his whole life thinking that’s just what everyone was like?

itty bit of internalized homophobia, but deals with it with his THERAPIST!!! (I refuse to believe an organization that has ppl killing in close quarters on the semi-reg doesn’t have mandatory therapy sessions)

Unfortunately(? Depends on your perspective) his first time with another man was for work. Security for a tech firm.

Messed him up a little, cause the guy was real nice all things considered. And trying new things, especially with smth that can get as intimate as sex? (Whiskey is a romantic at heart, I’ll fight you on this) leaves you vulnerable in ways you might not realize until after the fact.

If that guy suddenly got a much better job offer about a week after he hooked up with the slightly nervous older guy with the whole cowboy thing going on? Well those two things aren’t connected in the slightest.

Oberyn Martell

The man, the myth, the legend

The bisexual menace who’s one of the handful of men in GoT with any rights!

He doesn’t care what’s in your pants or under your skirts, he’s here to have a good time!

Look, I saw a gif of when he spanked that male prostitute before he got kicked out and it lives in my head rent free

So does that gif where he’s kissing Ellaria shirtless with her on top and tries chasing her with his mouth, you know the one.

@absurdthirst had him say “I mount a man properly.” In one of her fics and I have not known peace since.

Ezra

Bisexual Menace 2: Electric Boogaloo

@max--phillips said he’s trans, and you know what? They’re right.

Of the longer relationships he’s been in, most of them were with men.

Now yes sm of this has to do with the prospecting and the general demographic of the sort of people willing to skirt the edge of the known (barely) habitable galaxy for money.

But… maybe it’s his vernacular, maybe it’s his grandiose dreams for the future that are based on long strings of contingencies that are so detailed they seem within reach. Or maybe it’s because many of the women he’s gotten with are just looking for smth exciting, not lasting. Those always seem to end in arguments, shouting matches interspersed with the sound of smth breaking.

Those either end in him immediately getting kicked out, or sm very ill advised angry sex. Either way he and his meager belongings (and likely a few of hers) are gone by morning.

He sees himself settling down with a man, maybe a bit younger, or maybe he just looks younger from a life with much softer work. A place with clean air, blooming plants everywhere (not a lot of green, too much of that makes his arm throb and chest ache) a room filled wall to wall with books, and maybe an apiary.

Dieter Bravo

HOE!!!

He’s an actor, you think he hasn’t kissed a guy before? I defy you and that assumption.

Can suck the soul right outta your dick, no one believes it though, he seems too selfish

He’s a queer and he’s a slut, not a slut because he’s queer.

Sleeps around with just as many men as he does women, but the tabloids never talk about those fr sm reason 🤔

#headcanon #jack daniels #oberyn martell #dieter bravo #ezra (prospect)#din Djarin #pero tovar #the mandalorian #Javier Peña #pedro pascal characters #honestly I think the only P character I’d HC as straight is Dave. but he didn’t knock it until he tried it #I’m ready for the angry anons

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sariahsue · 3 years

Text

Confession

Part two of this (but can be read on its own)

It was barely 9:00 a.m. and Adrien Agreste was already sweating. After an hour of pep talking and encouragement during patrol last night, Ladybug had declared that she wasn’t ready to ask Adrien out yet, but she never would be, so why keep waiting?

And Ladybug was Marinette.

And Marinette wouldn’t stop looking at him.

He hadn’t even gotten through his first class and it was already the longest school day of his life.

(Adrien peeked over his shoulder for the eighth time, just as Marinette turned her face away again and blushed. He whipped around to the front. She was going to get suspicious if he kept doing that, but he couldn’t seem to stop.)

It had been a whole week since Chat Noir had found out Ladybug’s identity, and four days since she’d told him the name of the lucky boy who’d caught her heart. And Adrien still couldn’t believe it was him.

And now she was going to ask him out. When? That was the question floating through his mind as his teachers droned on about algebra. When? Maybe something about the Revolution in history class, but he wasn’t entirely sure. When? Science possibly?

When?

When was she going to talk to him? Today? Tomorrow? Did he smell nice? Had he misunderstood and she meant a different Adrien Agreste? Should he wait for her to approach him or start a conversation to give her an opening? He should have asked her last night! Why didn’t he ask her that?!

One advantage to peeking at her so often was that he could tell he felt more nervous than she looked, which was probably a good thing. Maybe something he said to her last night had helped. He felt scattered and on edge. Marinette’s nervousness was subtle. A tap tap tap of her pencil. The squeak of her shoe as she bounced her knee. Meanwhile, his mind was going in a hundred directions at once, wondering how she would confess.

And that thought sent anticipation swooping through his stomach.

Maybe it would have been better if he’d just told her his identity last night, make sure she knew how crazy he was about her so she could stop worrying.

But Ladybug had made it clear how much she wanted to ask Adrien, and how much effort she had already put in for him, and he didn’t want to minimize her struggle. Plus - and he felt a little guilty for it - he really wanted to hear what she would say. Wanted her to ask him. Wanted to be wanted by her.

Behind him, Marinette let out a breathy sigh. This was going to be a very, very long day.

***

A few hours later, Adrien stood at the top of school stairs, looking down at the waiting limo with its door already open for him, waiting to take him home for the weekend.

His pep talks hadn’t been enough. Even though she’d had plenty of opportunities, Marinette hadn’t asked him. His footsteps were heavy as he walked away from the school doors and waved a limp hello to his driver.

“Adrien, wait!”

He turned back so fast that the world blurred. Marinette ran toward him and then stopped a few inches in front of him, stone still, hands clenched to her sides.

His heart pounded in his mouth. “Yeah?”

“I-” That was as far as she got before her eyes fell to her feet.

“Yes?” Adrien prompted, hoping he was keeping the desperation out of his voice. He was not going to let her get out of talking now. Not if she was finally going to tell him how she really felt about him. “Was there something you wanted?”

“N-no, I don’t want anything,” she said, eyes flicking back up to his. “Just, um.” Paper rustled as she reached in her pocket and held out a small piece of notebook scrap to him. This wasn’t in any of the plans that they’d made together.

“What’s this?” He took it quickly, careful not to let their fingers brush (even though he wanted them to) because it might make her more nervous. On it was a little doodle of a cat face.

“What’s this about?” he whispered, even though he knew exactly what was going to happen next.

“So I have a purr-fect idea.”

This was it. This was it! She was making puns! She was going to ask him out! This excitement and joy were expected. Every single wish he’d ever made was about to come true.

And all of it was almost overshadowed by the single revelation that his Lady trusted him this much, to take his advice on something so important to her, something that was literally keeping her up at night with worry. It wasn’t trust out of necessity. It was trusting him with her vulnerabilities. He hadn’t realized that was going to hit as hard as it did.

“Cat got your tongue?” Marinette asked.

A second cat pun? Adrien leaned against the open car door for support. It swung farther open under his weight and nearly took him off his feet.

Marinette’s face went white.

“Sorry,” he said, standing back up. (He leaned against the frame of the car this time.) He had to pull himself together and not make this harder for her than it already was. “Sun was in my--” The sun beat down on the back of his neck. “Never mind. What’s your idea?”

“Uh.” She pointed to the paper. “Flip it over?”

On the back was a hastily-drawn ice cream cone. One of the many date ideas they had discussed. That had been his favorite one. Low pressure, but still enough to get the point across that it was a date and not just hanging out. She trusted his opinion and went with his idea.

“If you’re free sometime, would you want to get ice cream with me?” Its job complete, Marinette’s mouth clicked shut. Her lips screwed up tight as she politely waited for his answer.

Adrien was having none of it.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you asking me for ice cream?”

“Oh.” Marinette folded her hands in front of her chest, eyes looking everywhere but at him. “I just, you know, thought that you might like some ice cream. Some time. And I like it too, and we know each other, so we could get some at the same time.”

“Is that the only reason? Because you thought we both liked it? Or is there something else?”

She sighed, shoulders dropping suddenly. “Listen, I really like you. A lot.”

“Yeah?” he prompted.

She finally looked at him, searching his face for any sign of impending rejection. Adrien smiled softly to let her know she wasn’t ever going to find any there.

“I think you’re great,” she said. “You’re very kind and you’re fun to be around, and I was hoping you’d want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Yes. I’d love to.”

“Wait.” Marinette took a step back. “Yes? Did you just say yes?!”

“I’m really glad you asked me,” he said. “I’ve had a huge crush on you forever.”

It was Marinette’s turn to be speechless, but she recovered enough to squeak, “How about Monday after school? Do you have time then?”

“Sundaes on Monday? That sounds great!”

Marinette beamed, beautiful and wide and just for him. She liked him! She’d asked him! She trusted him!

She trusted him.

And he couldn’t start a relationship with her when he was keeping a huge secret from her.

“I have something to tell you first though, before our first date, and then you can decide if you still want to go out with me.”

Marinette cocked her head. “Of course I will. What is it?”

Adrien took a deep breath. Would she? He’d effectively tricked her into asking him out.

The Gorilla cleared his throat. A line of cars was forming behind them.

Feeling a little like a coward, Adrien started climbing into the limo. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“But it’s Saturday. We don’t have school tomorrow. And don’t you usually have shoots and fencing?”

He leaned out of the door and grabbed her hand. It would be too much of a hint for him to kiss it, so he squeezed it instead. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll find you.”

***

Author’s note: There will be one more part! Update: Here it is!

#ml #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #mlb #love square #postreveal2021

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 3 years

Text

Draw your swords, pt. 7

Summary: In order to win, she might have to lose.

Warnings: angst, swearing, bit of fluff, sexual content

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six

=================================

Waking up to skies lit by the wintry sun is what Y/N expected. In the back of her mind, she remembers opening her eyes. Perhaps it’s her mind playing tricks on her, but she could swear she heard Aleksander’s voice softly speaking to her.

Telling dreams from reality felt like an impossible task, but if it were a dream, would she really dream of him?

Death never crossed her mind. She was a soldier in an expendable army for most of her life, yet she never feared death. There was never a lingering sense of what if when they asked her if she believed in life after death, but she wondered now. Looking death in the eye had forced a realization upon her – she would die and achieve nothing. She married arguably the most powerful man in all of Ravka and she failed to utilize it. In the end, her name would be forgotten in history for her plans would all die with her.

Inhaling sharply, she wanted to open her eyes. A heaviness settles on her eyelids, making her groan. Her entire body felt dismantled, every nerve bare, inflicting pain.

“It’s alright”, a hand pressed to her forehead and Y/N frowns. Breathing heavily, she felt vulnerable, exposed.

Swallowing thickly, her eyes flutter open. With blurry vision, she looked up at the dark presence looming above her. Blinking fast, her lips part and before she can ask, cool liquid runs down her parched throat.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes closed again. She needed a moment to collect herself, to stop the world from spinning.

“It hurts”, she mumbles meekly.

“Shhh”, his voice reaches her. “I’m here”, she feels a gentle squeeze of his hand, “You’re safe.”

Resisting sleep, she opened her eyes once more. The sight of his tormented gaze leaves her nearly breathless. He’s still handsome, but it looks as if he’s aged ten years in just a few days.

“What happened?” Her voice is hoarse, still raspy from thirst and sleep.

“You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a week”, his forehead wrinkles, “We’ve just made it back.”

Despite the little voice in his head, the Darkling held onto his wife throughout the night. He kept her close to his chest, running his fingers through her hair. She was exhausted, injured so badly he could hear the strain her body was under with every breath she took.

Her eyes remained closed, her lips slightly parted and his pressed in a thin line. Absurd. It was absurd to think that someone like that – so delicate, so fragile, could have any power over him. It baffles him just how quickly he found himself attached to this woman who was unremarkable in every possible way – or so he told himself.

Truth be told, he couldn’t take his eyes off her since he first saw her. She radiates genuine beauty few possess, a confidence he’s never found in anyone in hundreds of years, and an air of mystery he couldn’t quite understand.

By the time morning light reached their tent, the Darkling just stared at her with care, studying every inch of her face as if it could be the last time he’ll ever be given a chance. He memorized the way she fit in his embrace, the rhythm of her beating heart in the dead of night and every labored breath as it threatened his sanity.

Anger was his best friend for so long, his shield against humanity, but his anger wasn’t all-consuming as it once was – it was directed to those who caused the swelling around her eyes and cuts across her cheekbones.

“General”, Ivan’s head peaked inside the tent only to swiftly disappear once he caught sight of a moment he was sure wasn’t meant for his eyes.

Rolling his eyes, the Darkling gently laid her head down. Caressing her cheek, he let a heavy sigh pass his lips. It’s been too long since he last felt so defenseless and helpless as he did now. He promised himself he’d never feel that way again and yet he found himself in the same cursed whirlwind of emotions as he was in when the fold came to be.

Biting his lower lip, he pushed it all down. If he’s distraught, his people would know. He cannot be emotional and still lead an army. He has to be strong – for Grisha and for Y/N.

“Ivan, we’ll have to find a healer soon”, Kirigan spoke in a hushed tone. Glancing at the tent, he felt a lump growing at the back of his throat. “I believe she’s developed a fever too.”

“Fedyor can try to cool her temperature”, Ivan offers, “He’ll slow her heart and keep her breathing. I’ll trade with him if necessary.”

Nodding, the general was satisfied with Ivan’s solution. For once, Ivan didn’t question why he wanted to protect her. This time, he was offered aid rather than words of discouragement.

“I’ll have to leave some of our own here”, Kirigan looks at the direction they came from. “The Fjerdans came too close and I need to know why. Why would they take my wife?”

Ivan lowers his voice, making sure he doesn’t wake up Y/N, “Perhaps it was a coincidence.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences. Not when her safety is at stake.”

Nodding, Ivan glances at Fedyor. He’d be the same if anyone touched his beloved. Suppressing a smile, Ivan finally realized it – no matter how vehemently the general denies it, his heart is no longer his.

“What are the orders? I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

“Take back what they took, place their heads on a stake and wait. More should come soon and when they do, I want to know why they came so close to Little Palace and who ordered them to take my wife.”

Squinting, not in anger but to see him better, Y/N frowns, “A week?”

“Winter made it hard for us to move faster and you were in no shape to ride back.”

Letting out a shaky breath of air, she raised an eyebrow, “So you carried me?”

“Ivan and Fedyor kept you alive too.”

Wetting her chapped lips, she hesitated. Her fingers burned, itching to touch him, to intertwine with his.

“A healer should be here any minute now”, Aleksander informed, pulling his hand out of hers as if he could sense her inner battles and decided to help her by removing himself from it entirely.

“No”, she decided.

Standing abruptly, his jaw clenched. Despite his stern expression, his eyes hold all the sadness in the world, pleading eyes that both threaten and adore.

“No?” He repeats with disdain, “What do you mean by no?”

Holding her breath, she endures a sharp pain in her ribcage as she propped herself up on her elbows. Breathing heavily, she directed her determined gaze on him. “I’m human, am I not?”

Squinting at her, his lips part, “And?”

Struggling to prevent herself from laughing at the way he looked at her now, Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Humans aren’t allowed aid of a healer. We go to the medics.”

“You’re my wife”, he remarks almost instantaneously, slightly wishing she remained unconscious for a while longer. If she slept, the healer would have done their job and there would be no argument. There was no doubt about it, their truce was over.

“But I’m still a human. The rest of my kind don’t have the privilege of being married to you.” Her voice is stern, low and frustratingly righteous.

“You need a healer or you might not survive”, Aleksander insisted.

“Then let me die.” She stared at him, no signs of crumbling and it made him feel like he’s drowning.

Rubbing his forehead, the Darkling shut his eyes in frustration. After all the sleepless nights, his head felt like it would implode. All he had on his mind was her safety and now when he brought her home, she refused help.

“What do you want?”

Knitting her eyebrows, she glanced at his jaw as it clenched. “What?”

Her voice is higher, almost confused but he knew better than that. “I’ve known you for almost two months.” Two months too long, he thought. “I know when you’re trying to extort me.”

Covering her mouth, Y/N suppressed a laugh. Truth be told, it’s exactly what she’s doing, she just didn’t expect him to cave so quickly.

“Healers for the First army”, her lips twitch. Pursing her lips, she bites the soft flesh on the inside of her mouth to stop herself from smiling at all costs.

“No”, he spoke through gritted teeth.

Shrugging, she laid back down. “Alright then. I only regret I won’t be here to hear you explain my death to the Tsar and my father.”

Growling under his breath, he swipes his hand down his face. “One healer.”

“Two”, she argued, sitting up with a pained expression on her face.

“We can’t spare two”, the Darkling crosses his arms, his eyes darker than ever before.

Lifting her chin in defiance, she narrowed her eyes at her husband. “Two healers or no deal.”

Releasing a long, heavy breath in frustration, the Darkling felt his insides turn. “Two healers but only for those who can’t get better with a week long rest on their own.”

“Two healers for those who can’t get better in a few days of rest AND the same amount of food and water for the First army.”

Running a hand through his hair, the general’s nostrils flare. Cracking his neck to the left, to the right, he turned his death glare back on his wife. “Food and water are limited for Grisha as well.”

“I saw them eat grapes”, Y/N deadpans. “You have enough, so share. If the First army dies out, who will protect your precious Grisha?”

Folding her hands in her lap, she maintained eye contact with the general who refused to blink. He stared back at her, aghast. The woman was impossible! She made every word that passed her lips a contest of wills.

His jaw set, he moved closer to stand before her. He looked formidable with the relentless, firm pools of black ink for eyes devouring her with intensity, too hard in comparison to what she had seen in the tent. He looked like he could kill her without even putting a hand on her…something she still expected him to do.

What was stopping him? She was far behind enemy lines, no reinforcements and she saw what he can do – he could kill everyone who stood in his way.

“Fine”, he huffs. “Under one condition.”

Rolling her eyes, she nods, “What is it?”

“I want a kiss.”

Her eyes flashed to his. Ringed with golden bruises, she was still alluring – like a wildfire or a storm. No…she is wildfire, a storm. She is deadly and uncontrollable and slightly out of her wits and he’s asking her to be his ruination. It isn’t love, he tells himself, it’s obsession.

Raising her eyebrows, Y/N didn’t bother hiding her surprise. A kiss? Of all the things he could have asked, the big bad general who can summon shadows is asking for a kiss?

A part of her trusted Aleksander and that trust demanded intimacy. She wanted his hands on her – in her hair, his lips on her neck. She longed to be vulnerable and that’s what worried her. Trusting him, needing him, it’s bound to breed love and self-inflicted madness. If it were anything else, she would outright refuse him, but she has so many lives dependent on her answer.

“Tonight”, she decided. If her own sanity is the price to pay, she will do what she has to do.

Nodding, the Darkling retreated. Leaving the room, he opened the door for the healer to enter. Sparing her a quick look, he swallowed thickly as the thought of her willingly kissing him made his heart slam into the rib cage. Even his heart wanted to escape him as it too longed for her hands’ touch.

He didn’t make more than two steps outside the room when a Grisha joined him - one of his many spies.

“What do you have for me?”

The spy beckons him to the side, looking around wildly. “This could change everything.”

“What is it?” The Darkling speaks through gritted teeth, demanding an answer.

“There is talk”, the spy pauses, “Of a Sun Summoner.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Healed, bathed and properly fed, Y/N had paced their room in anticipation of his arrival. She had seen the look in his eyes earlier that day – something between them has changed.

As the door opens, her breath halts inside her throat.

“I thought you were lost”, Genya admitted. “When they found your mare, I lost hope.”

Smiling, Y/N cupped her cheek. “I did too”, she sniffled.

The Darkling felt, more than saw, her presence as he entered the room. He turned slowly, his breath held. Her hair looked darker in the candlelight, its rich color gleaming against the green velvet of fresh sheets on the bed she leaned against. He could hardly speak. The nearness of her, the quiet room, the candlelight made him question the reality of what he was looking at.

“You look better”, Aleksander managed a curt smile, looking at Y/N and her attire. The sheer nightdress she wore was back, perfectly outlining her figure.

“Why did they take you?” Genya asked, unshead tears weighing heavily on her eyes. “Did they know?”

“No”, Y/N shakes her head, “But they found out.”

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter. Kirigan killed them all.” Y/N glanced at the door where she expected her husband to appear later on.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Y/N felt her heart flip. “It helped me realize something.”

Frowning, Genya waited for Y/N to explain.

“Your General does have a heart”, she states. His request for a kiss lingered in every thought her mind could concoct.

She stared at him then slowly untied the belt of her robe and it glided languidly over her smooth skin, falling to her feet.

His gaze roamed over her as if he is unable to fully comprehend her beauty. Only when he looked back at her eyes did he see she was troubled.

“Of course he does”, Genya chuckles, “He was most worried when you were taken. He promised he’d kill them all and bathe in their blood.”

“I think I can use that.”

Knitting her eyebrows, Genya’s frown deepened. “How?”

Pressing her lips, Y/N sighed. “In order for me to win”, she paused, “He needs to believe he did.”

“Husband”, she spoke clearly. She feigned confidence, but inside she quivered.

She had barely finished the syllable when she was in his arms, being carried to their bed, his lips already fastened to hers. She felt his lips hit hers like a tornado, his admission of burning the world in her name spinning in her head. It could have been a fever dream, but she would bet her life it wasn’t.

Holding her chin in place, he rested his forehead on hers, heaving from the kiss. She couldn’t open her eyes, clinging to him for dear life, but even with eyes closed, Y/N could hear the emotions thick in his voice.

“I don’t want to do anything you’re not willing.” He whispered against his lips, all too prepared for his hands to roam her body now.

Y/N was afraid of herself as well as of him. He could sense it as he kissed her. He’d waited a long time for her to come to him and now it seems she was more than ready to give herself to him without his talk of her marital duty.

He expected anything but to find her with her arms wide open. But even now, as he held her, he felt no great sense of triumph.

Pulling the sheet over her, he stood. “I can wait.”

The sheet accented her shoulders and the full swelling of her breasts. The candlelight deepened the shadow above the sheet. Her bare throat pulsed with life. Her face was set in a firm, serious expression that caused her eyes to darken. Her lips were hard, as if carved of marble and he ached to part them into a smile.

Turning away, he began undressing himself for bed, wondering how he could survive a night beside her if she remains as she is now.

She averts her gaze, whispering under her breath in confusion, “Wait?”

He laid beside her, barely dressed at all. She found herself achingly aware of his presence. The only light in the room was from the flames of candles she placed across the room. The light danced on her hair, played with the shadows of her delicate collarbones. At this moment, he remembered nothing of the arrangement their marriage was meant to be. He knew only that he was in bed with a desirable woman, one he never expected to claim. She seemed too headstrong to ever give into his charm, yet she bared herself before him and he couldn’t take advantage of her.

“Why don’t you want me?” She sat up, glaring at him. She let the sheet fall as his eyes met hers, bravely fixing him with her fiery gaze.

Rolling his eyes, he looks away. How can she torment him like this with no shame?

If anything, he felt like she’s attacking him. “I don’t want to hear about how a demon took you by force for the rest of my life.”

“It’s not force if I’m giving myself willingly, is it?” She raised an eyebrow, deciding on a tactic finally. Aleksander is a general, a conqueror at heart and she saw the desire in his eyes. If there was any hope of her plan to work, she had to harness his desire to convince him he won.

Licking his lips as he cracked a smile, Aleksander nodded in surprise, unable to keep his eyes from wandering lower to her breasts. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He wanted to possess her, to claim this difficult, headstrong woman for himself. His mouth came down brutally hard on hers, claiming them, nearly bruising them.

Y/N fumbled with the sheet that wrapped around her, making Aleksander chuckle into the kiss.

“Let me help you,” Aleksander purred and tore the sheet away, pulling it from under the mattress.

Wrapping his hand around Y/N’s neck, his grip was oddly weak, gentle even. She laid nude before him, his gaze fixed on her. He stared at her in wonder; her full breasts, curvy waist, round hips. Then he looked back at her face, her eyes blazing. Her lips were reddened from his kiss, and suddenly there was no power on earth that could stop him from taking her.

“You make me feel”, he pauses in anguish, “You make me feel”, he said quietly, fiercely, “And I don’t like it. I want it to stop. Now.”

He pushed her into the mattress and Y/N saw the ruthless general in his eyes and for a moment she feared it. A general isn’t gentle at all, not like Aleksander could be. She feared the pain he’d cause and the tears that would follow. She feared what he’d do to her, but then the fear she felt dissipated as he spoke against her lips.

“I’ll go slowly.” Aleksander stopped himself, remembering she’s never had a man in her bed before and once he saw the fear in her eyes extinguish the flame he already adored, he reeled himself in.

“Your hands are bloody from murder”, she paused, “But I trust them completely.” Her voice had never been smaller, her hands never as desperate as she clung to him. She wanted to trust the sudden, overwhelming warmth in his unrelentingly tender gaze, but she still awaited the pain that was yet to come. He moved on top of her, his lips attaching to her neck gently as he pressed a kiss above her pulsating carotid, knowing she’s nervous as he felt the pace of her pulse.

With one thigh, Aleksander parted hers. He kissed her again, passionate and slow, distracting her as his hand moves lower, down to the intimate parts she never allowed another only man to see, to feel. Slipping his finger between her folds, he found if applied enough pressure a desperate moan escapes her without a fail. He feels her breathing change as he begins to rub circles, her thighs trying to push against his in a need of more friction. And that’s when control escapes her and she closes her eyes completely, letting the pleasure take over.

Unable to wait any longer, Aleksander pushed the head of his hardened length between the folds, feeling her wetness pooling over as nature’s lubricant. Feeling the membrane, he stops for a moment. Looking at her carefully for any signs of distress, he wonders if she even realizes what is about to happen.

“Do you want this?” He asks again, fearing she may change her mind.

Gripping his arm, she nods. “Yes”, she replies, breathless.

Pressing himself inside, he bows his head in the crook of her neck, growling lowly in pleasure. It’s not the first virgin he had, but it’s the first one that made him want to come on the first thrust.

“Go on.” She encourages him, surprising them both. Swallowing thickly, she sinks her nails into his back, anticipating the next thrust. It would be a lie if she said she wasn’t in pain, but she knew it would get easier as he moves again and she would feel the pleasure again – and she wanted the pleasure more than the pain.

Nodding, Aleksander starts moving in and out slowly, refusing to risk her pain for a little more pleasure he’d find in speed and his untimely release. Instead, he’s using deep, slow strokes with a relentless care for the nerve bundle between her folds. Every passing second draws louder moans from her until he feels her clench around him, his own mind blackening as he feels himself nearing the edge. She’s holding him so tightly to her body, so desperately as she unravels beneath him. Picking up pace, he finally loses control, jerking his hips to meet hers in a deep thrust only to finish deep inside her, allowing them both to breathe.

Rolling off her, Aleksander decided to stay quiet, allowing her to have control of the moment. If she wants his embrace, he’d do it for her and if she wants to talk, he’d talk to her, otherwise, he’d just sleep. It’s been so long since he truly slept – since the day they went for that ride.

He placed an arm around her for comfort alone, not pressing himself closer than necessary, closing his eyes once he realizes she’s not interested in him at all after she came down from her high.

Waiting for a few minutes, Y/N pretended to sleep. After the hurricane of emotions he’d given her, Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She wanted to relax, to sleep in bliss, but a part of her ached. She ached for who she used to be. Would her father hate her for what she just did? Would her people denounce her for sleeping with the enemy?

Her eyes opened wide, finding his are still closed. Lips quivering, she felt herself crumble as tears fled her eyes. She watched his sleeping figure and sighed deeply, telling herself to stop crying. She was supposed to be in control of him, to make him want her and crave her, yet she found it was the opposite. She didn’t love him, but she did feel a connection…perhaps it’s the kindness he showed her when he rescued her or the pleasure he had given her, but something inside her changed and the heart she hardened on purpose found a soft spot for the general.

=============================

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Part 8

#the darkling x reader #the darkling #aleksander morozova #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander x reader #shadown and bone

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ignitedbynatsu · 3 years

Text

He Makes You Feel Insecure ~ Laxus

A/N: Erik/Cobra will be up next! I’ll probably post it next Tuesday or something like that. Anyway let me know who you want me to do next! I was thinking Natsu or Rogue 🤔 (future me: well that was a big lie 😶)

warnings: insecurities (he makes you feel weak), cursing

genre: angst to fluff

Other versions:

Gray ~ Erik/Cobra ~ Bickslow ~ Gajeel ~ Natsu ~ Jellal ~ Freed ~ Sting ~ Rogue

⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡

It was supposed to be an easy mission. Go in by morning, get back by noon. For some reason you couldn’t get yourself to focus, often leaving blind spots, but luckily Laxus was always in time to protect you from harm.

You didn’t like relying on others, especially Laxus. It only made your overthinking worse. After all, why would he be with someone that’s not even S-class? You’ve heard the whispers in the guild and Magnolia. Mira-Jane and Laxus would’ve been a much better couple than you two. Even Erza would’ve been a better match, but he still chooses you. Was it out of pity? Did he think you’d get better eventually? Was it a joke? After all, you hadn’t been dating for that long. He could easily change his mind if he saw how weak you actually were.

As your thoughts kept going down the negative spiral, you once again left your right side completely open. Only this time Laxus wasn’t in time to protect you, resulting in a nasty cut that ran across your ribcage.

Laxus finally decided he had enough as he saw his significant other clutches her side, blood soaking through the fabric of your shirt. He electrocuted everyone around, making sure not to hit you.

“I’m sorry-“ You wanted to apologize but quickly cowered at his stone-cold glare

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, (Y/N)? How many times am I gonna have to save you today? Get your head out of your ass and start taking this serious, or I’m going home.” He growled “I don’t need this job. If anything it’s an embarrassment that I still go on such low-class jobs. This wouldn’t have happend if I went with Freed”

The vile words that came out of Laxus mouth, confirmed your already overwhelming fears. You were too weak. You were nothing but a burden to him. The difference in power between you two was enormous. While this job seemed like a walk in the park for him, you still would’ve struggled even if you didn’t have an off day. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt that’s for sure, but you still would’ve been drained afterwards.

“I’ll be better,” You said quietly as you bit through the pain. You recollected yourself and fought off the remaining bad guys, making sure that you were covered on all sides.

All throughout the fight, the pain in your side got worse. It felt like someone was stabbing you repeatedly, but you bit your tongue and decided to ignore it. You didn’t want to look even weaker in front of your boyfriend. After all, it was just a light graze, right?

“How’s your wound?” Laxus asked once you left the job requester’s house with your payment. “It’s fine don’t worry about it”

“Really? Let me take a look” He pressed, but you pushed his reaching hands away “I’m serious, Laxus, it’s just a small cut nothing to be worried about”

That was a massive lie. The cut burned with every step you took. The both of you didn’t even notice that there was still some blood spilling out of it due to your shirt being incredibly dirty from the mud and blood mixed together.

Once back at the guild, Laxus went straight up to Freed, Bixlow and Evergreen, while you went and sat at the table Lucy, Wendy and Carle were seated at.

“How did the job go?” Wendy asked as she sipped on whatever drink she had ordered from Mira-Jane.

“Some cuts and bruises, but the payment was worth it” You joked. The two girls and Exeed laughed at that before talking about something else.

You zoomed out as your wound was taking up all of your attention. It felt as if your heart was beating right where the cut was. With every heartbeat, you had to do your best to suppress a wince.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay? You look a bit pale” Carle suddenly asked, snapping you out of your thoughts

“Yeah… I’m going to the toilet” You didn’t make it far, because the moment you stood up you collapsed to the ground, fainting from the amount of blood you had lost.

“(Y/N)?” Laxus called out, panicked, as he saw your familiar figure hit the ground with a thud. He quickly shot out of his seat and was in mere seconds crouched next to your body, picking your head up carefully.

“Everyone, step back!” Makarov ordered as Wendy knelt next to you as well. She lifted your shirt and gasped at the deep cut.

“How did you not know about this?” Wendy asked the older mage as Mira-Jane quickly ran off to get a wet towel to clean out your wound and some bandages.

“I know she got hit, but when I asked her about it, she told me it wasn’t anything serious” Wendy was already performing a healing spell on you while Mira-Jane rejoined to clean out the wound. “She lost a lot of blood, so she’ll need some rest, other than that, I think I healed her”

“I’ll take her home. Thank you, Wendy” Laxus picked you up carefully before saying goodbye to the others and reassuring them he’d look after you.

As he walked the short walk home, he couldn’t help but wonder why you lied to him. Did you not trust him?

He had laid you down in bed and decided to prepare the both of you some food while you were still out cold. This is the reason why you woke up to the smell of something burning. “Laxus?” You croaked as you recognized the all too familiar room you woke up in.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed” He quickly rushed you back. It was a rare sight to see Laxus worry about someone this much, but it was a sight you often got to see when you two were alone.

“What happened?” You asked as you peaked over his shoulders at the steam coming out of your kitchen.

“I wanted to make us some food since you were still out cold, but as you can see, it didn’t really go as planned.” He replied as he scratched the back of his neck with the ever slightest tone of pink visible on his cheeks.

“It was very thoughtful of you, thank you,” You said as you got back in bed with you back rested against the headboard.

Laxus sat down as well, but at the end of the bed, putting some distance between the two of you, signalling that something was up. He made it even more clear when he let out a heavy sigh “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal-“ “that’s bullshit, (Y/N), and you know it” He cut you off before you could finish your excuse. A heavy silence was placed upon the two of you. You were contemplating whether you should let him in on your thoughts or not.

“Do you not trust me?” He asked softly, you had never heard the feared Laxus this vulnerable, it made you feel guilty for making him feel that way.

“No! No, of course not. I trust you with all my heart, it’s just…” You trailed off, at a lost for words once again. You didn’t want to seem weak in front of him. Furthermore, you wanted to prove that you were just fine, but you couldn’t think of a believable lie.

“(Y/N), please, tell me what’s on your mind. Was it something I said?” He pressed on.

“What is it that you see in me, Laxus?” You asked softly. “Where is this coming from?”

You sighed, making sure you were 100% okay with letting him in on your insecurities before continuing “You can’t tell me you haven’t heard the whispers on the street about you and Mira. You two would be a much better match. I’m just some weak mage that’s only holding you back. I’ll never reach your level. Not only that, but I don’t even get why you still want to go out with me on these kind of jobs ‘cause it’s as you said, it’s an embarrassment for you to still do these. The fact that I still see them as hard only proofs how I’ll never be good enough to be an S-class wizard like Mira or Erza. I’ll never live up to the standard of being the girlfriend of the powerful Laxus. I’m just… Not good enough I guess”

He listened carefully that every word that left your mouth and realization struck him as you recalled his words. He had made you doubt yourself. “Is that really what you think I care about?”

You looked up at him and softly nodded your head while biting down your lip. Afraid of him starting to laugh at you for your insecurities. “Listen, (Y/N), I wouldn’t give two flying shits about you being strong or not. Hell, I wouldn’t even care if you had magic or not. I fell in love with you for who you are. You are the smartest, most creative, breathtaking woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Don’t even get me started on that smile. I am deeply sorry for playing into your securities. I was frustrated with myself for not protecting you from that bad guy in time. Please, don’t ever feel like you can’t tell me something because you’re afraid that you’ll come across as weak. I care much more for your health than your pride”

“You love me?” You asked as you looked at him with puppy eyes.

“That’s all you took from that?” He chuckled softly, making you give him a sheepish smile “But, yes, I love you. I know we’ve only been dating for a couple of months and I don’t expect you to say it back, so-“

“I love you too, Laxus. Sorry for making you think I couldn’t trust you.” You said as you inched closer to give him a sweet kiss “So, how about some take out?”

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agapaic · 3 years

Text

[19 days] whiplash [ch. 365 after-shot]

The shop will be closing soon. He’s seen an attendant wandering around, who will probably ask him to leave in the next five minutes. There’s no one else here. His clothes are vivid against the neon glow of the tanks. The fish cast strange shadows on his shirt, living out a second life on his skin.

They swim in half-circles before sharply changing direction, never touching the glass. He wonders if they know it’s there, as if they can sense some immovable wall that holds them back.

He’s not getting deep about this. He could contemplate, quite extensively, about how their freedom must be bought by some higher power, and they would really only go from one tank to the next, slightly bigger, slightly richer. It’s all fake shit, and he remembers that in some ways he’s got it better than an animal. He can, at least, run away. Maybe he won’t get far. Just to the edges of the city villages where he’ll get a job earning less than before and lose his place in school.

Guan Shan puts a finger on the glass in front of him. There’s a label in the corner, peeling away from the glass. Veiltail goldfish. They have wispy, membrane-like tails. He could put his hand on the other side and see all the way through. Guan Shan watches the only black fish in the tank move placidly through the water.

Beneath the label, a smaller one: Black moor. For a minute he considers tugging the label off and putting it in his pocket, a little secret. He remembers that would be stealing, in some way, and someone in the shop would have to go to the effort of printing and laminating and reapplying the label just for one fish.

Guan Shan turns away.

He wanders for a few more minutes. He’s aware of his reflection in the glass. He worries about how long the attendant will let him stay there, and the thought that they will make him leave makes him feel slightly sick. He likes it here—the quiet, the muted hum of the tanks, the strange lights. They make him feel somewhere else.

His mother is working the night shift and won’t be home until just before he’s meant to go to school the next morning. They’ll have long enough together that he could tell her he got fired from the shop, but not long enough that he could reasonably pretend to have forgotten as he tugs on his uniform and slips out the front door.

She won’t be mad—she never is.

She can’t take on another shift.

Mentally, he has started taking stock. His Xbox is a few years old, but he’ll get something for it. He has a stack of old music magazines from his dad that could catch the eye of a collector. His computer, maybe.

The earrings.

His stomach twists.

Really, it’s not much. It’ll earn them a month, which could be just long enough for him to get another job, but what’s the likelihood of that in a city where most kids are just trying to bulk their CV’s for their college applications. Besides, his grades speak for themselves. He got lucky with the shop, and lightning doesn’t strike twice.

‘Hey, kid. We’re closing soon, so unless you wanna buy something…’

Guan Shan nods. His shoulders round.

For no logical reason, he says: ‘Can I take a goldfish?’

‘Sure. The black moor? Saw you had your eye on that one.’

‘No, one of the others.’

The attendant comes up next to him. ‘Just the one? They don’t like being on their own, you know.’

He presses his jaw tightly. A small sound comes out of him. He looks at the price tag and is somehow shocked and saddened to see the figure so low.

‘Fine,’ he says. ‘The black one, too, I guess.’

He pays, then leaves. It’s late enough that the streets are quieter than he expected. He’s usually home by now, his shift over, reheating leftovers while he works on his homework. He stands there while the shop attendant locks up behind him, holding the plastic bag with two fish in his hand. He feels stupid. Behind his eyes, he can feel a sort of stinging sensation.

He has the unnameable urge to grab one of the passing strangers and tell them how he’s feeling, what has happened, what could happen. On some level he knows that everyone has their own problems, and he’s not the type of person to overstep his bounds. Instead, he watches them pass, and after a few more minutes he goes to the nearest subway station and gets the train home.

He had half expected He Tian to find him on the street. He’d imagined it, He Tian catching his arm as he wandered from store to store, deliberating at large windows with thin mannequins and expensive jewellery without price tags. There is a part of him that’s disappointed that it didn’t play out like this, a part of him that is even angrier to find He Tian sitting in the stairwell of his apartment when he eventually does get home.

It’s close to midnight, and the stairwell is clinically quiet. Outside, the stars are dusty and covered in a thin layer of smog that is less noticeable in the day. He Tian looks exhausted. He’s the type of good looking where even the slightest imperfection somehow makes him even more attractive. Guan Shan hates it.

He stands when Guan Shan walks in, suddenly filling the space, and Guan Shan says, ‘Get outta my way.’

‘Where have you been?’

Guan Shan shoulders past him. There’s a moment where he thinks He Tian will grab him around the shoulders, the air around him simmering enough that Guan Shan is convinced it’s a near thing, choking with danger, but he lets him pass. He follows Guan Shan up the staircase, his footsteps silent, his body casting long shadows on the steps where Guan Shan sets his feet.

At the door, Guan Shan pockets the notice that’s taped there, knowing He Tian has already seen it. Less sharply, he picks up the notes in He Tian’s and Jian Yi’s writing and folds them into careful squares.

‘You’re not comin’ in,’ he says.

‘I called you, like, fifty times. Did you block me?’

Guan Shan thinks He Tian sounds angrier than he really has a right to be. He turns and presses his back to the door. He has his keys clenched tightly in a closed fist.

‘Yeah. I didn’t want to talk to you. I thought you would’ve gotten that.’

‘I can get you another job. Something better paid.’

‘You’re so fuckin’ clueless.’

He Tian’s eyes tighten.

‘You’re ruining my life,’ says Guan Shan.

‘That’s—that isn’t true. I’ve helped you. You would’ve been expelled if—’

‘Maybe I would’ve gotten expelled. But I wouldn’t have had She Li on my dick all the time, would I? Wouldn’t need you to get me a job ‘cause you made me lose my last one, would I? You’re just—stickin’ a bandage on shit when you hurt me first.’

‘It’s not always like that. Don’t make it sound like it’s always like that.’

Guan Shan shakes his head. ‘I want you to go. I told you I didn’t want to see you again. Fuck off.’

He Tian says, ‘Let me pay what was on the door.’

‘Fuck off.’

He Tian doesn’t move and Guan Shan squeezes his eyes shut. He’s going to cry again, the frustration bubbling sourly in the back of his throat. He doesn’t trust himself to open the door while He Tian is still here because he knows he’ll probably let him in.

‘Do I really make you feel like a failure?’

Guan Shan rubs at his eyes with his fist. His voice comes hoarse and thick: ‘I am a failure. Bein’ around you just makes it so much more fuckin’ obvious.’

He doesn’t want He Tian’s pity when he says this, or his reassurance. He’s just being honest. Saying it out loud is kind of breathlessly relieving. He couldn’t say something like that to his mother, or any of the teachers at school. He couldn’t say it to Grey, who he’s known for years. He Tian knows more about him than anyone. It’s a terrifying thought.

If they never see each other again, will He Tian tell everyone the things Guan Shan has told him? About the restaurant and his dad, or about She Li and the things Guan Shan has let him do to him? He feels vulnerable and sick thinking about it, completely powerless, as he does a lot of the time when he’s around He Tian.

He oscillates between that feeling of uselessness and the feeling of being so empowered that he thinks it must be what being high or drunk feels like. That latter has him trusting his own convictions, having an unadulterated faith in himself like jumping from a bridge and thinking he might just fly—so long as He Tian is with him. He doesn’t like how it’s one or the other, empowered or powerless, and rarely anything in between. He’s heard adults on TV talking about being codependent, pulled punishingly into each other's orbit, and he wonders if this is the same thing.

In the end he supposes it doesn’t really matter. So what if He Tian tells everyone? Probably, he won’t see the rest of the year out at school. He’ll get a job on a different side of the city and no one will hear from him ever again. The embarrassment will all be internal and will only last a week or two. Then life will move on. He wishes he were older and wiser and better at believing this. He wishes it didn’t feel like the universe might fall out from beneath him.

‘Doesn’t matter what I do, it turns to shit,’ he tells He Tian. ‘No matter how hard I work, I’m never gonna earn enough. I can spend three hours studyin’ for a test and still come last. If it isn’t She Li, then it’ll be someone else. I just—I can’t catch a fuckin’ break, He Tian. But you do somethin’ and you come first every time. Life’s so easy for you.’

He Tian shifts from side to side. ‘Do you think things wouldn’t feel so hard if you stopped focussing on what you think my life is like?’

‘You’re pissin’ me off.’

‘I don’t know how I’m meant to help you. You won’t let me give you money. It’s like pulling teeth from you just trying to know what’s going on with you. What are you so fucking afraid of?’

‘I never asked for your help.’

‘You shouldn’t have to—that’s why we’re friends.’

‘I never said I wanted to be your friend.’

He Tian frowns, his look very serious. He isn’t teasing tonight. Neither is Guan Shan. There is the sense that their interactions are always anything but teasing, really, some dark undercurrent that runs between the two of them like dark veins.

He Tian says, ‘Are those fish?’

For a moment Guan Shan thinks he’s joking, deflecting wildly to distract from the seriousness of what Guan Shan has just said. Then he feels the crinkle of a plastic bag in his hand and, remembering how he’d just spent the last few hours, nearly drops the two goldfish onto the floor.

‘Yeah,’ he says.

‘You don’t have a tank.’

‘Yeah, no. I don’t know why I bought them.’

He Tian hesitates. There is a curious, predictable gleam in his eyes. ‘Red and black?’

‘It’s all they had left at the store.’

He Tian is looking intently at the bag. ‘Do you remember when we went to the aquarium? And you said I wasn’t someone you could forget?’

‘I just meant that—’

‘I know what you meant. But I always pretend like you meant it the other way.’

Guan Shan thinks, Don’t you think things would be easier if you stopped focusing on what you want me to mean and what I actually mean?

Instead of saying anything, he looks down at his sneakers. They’re scuffed and starting to rip at the seams. The thought of having to buy new ones makes him panic and the thought of buying a pair of second-hand ones online makes him panic even more. There’s no shame in it, but the thought of wearing someone else’s clothes makes him feel strange, especially when he knows He Tian could buy fifty pairs without blinking.

Guan Shan considers that thought and replays what He Tian has just said about focusing on his life too much more than his own. Maybe part of that is true.

Before He Tian, did he always feel things so intensely? Did the bad always feel so fucking awful? He knows that things were mechanical, and he was mean and didn’t think much about other people in particularly nice ways. He knows he didn’t laugh much then, or have dinners and sleepovers with friends. He knows everything hurt on a distant, muted level that was easy to ignore. Not much time has passed since then, and he reasons that nothing about him has probably changed, just everything else around him.

‘I can’t understand why you won’t let me help you,’ says He Tian, when the silence has stretched too long.

‘Because I’ll get used to it.’

He Tian frowns, not understanding.

‘One day, you’re not gonna be around. And I’ll be fucked.’

‘I’ll always be there for you.’

‘You don’t know that. People say that a lot and then they disappear or get taken away, even if they didn’t want to.’

It’s obvious they’re talking about his dad, but it feels safer to talk about things in vague, subjective conversation. Maybe things would be easier if they talked openly about things and didn’t use metaphors and hypotheticals. As it is, Guan Shan doesn’t feel ready to try the alternative. He is conscious of the fact that this feels like a conversation. They are passing words back and forth that hold meaning and neither of them has touched the other yet. It feels new and fragile as an oil painting, still wet, and so he doesn’t let himself think about this for long.

‘I think you’re getting this wrong,’ says He Tian. ‘I’m not asking you to rely on me. Obviously, I’d kind of like that. I like the thought of you needing me, and I know that says something about me. But—I’m just asking you to let me help you. Just here and there, no strings.’

Guan Shan rubs his forehead with the back of his knuckles. His keys are starting to pinch his skin and he can feel a headache starting to surface.

‘I’m tired,’ he says. ‘I actually do want you to go.’

He Tian’s jaw clenches and he breathes out heavily through his nose. He’s probably thinking he’s wasted his time.

‘Okay,’ he says then. ‘But we’re not done.’

A new wave of exhaustion comes over Guan Shan, crippling and final. He wants to get into bed with his skin against cold sheets and sleep for twelve hours without waking once.

‘You’re not the only one that ever gets to decide that,’ he tells He Tian, a little sharply. ‘You’ve gotta learn to let people go.’

‘But what if I know I can help them?’ says He Tian. ‘If I don’t, I’ve just—failed.’

They look at each other.

A minute stretches into an eternity that could be seconds or hours, and everything has gone backwards. Everything is the same.

Guan Shan can’t put his finger on what has just happened, but he feels like laughing. Their fears are twinned, self-perpetuating, some kind of ouroboros chasing its tail. Who will get caught first?

They both seem to take in a breath at the same time, and He Tian takes a step back.

‘Goodnight,’ he says.

Guan Shan nods. He waits for He Tian’s retreating back to disappear a few flights down before opening the door to his apartment, and shuts it swiftly behind him.

There’s a knock at the door while he’s brushing his teeth. The fish are swimming placidly in their bag on the edge of the bathroom sink. It’s past one, and he keeps all the lights off because his eyes are feeling sore. He’s adjusted to the dim glow that comes from street lamps seeping through the curtains, the blink of the timer on the electric stove, his Xbox gleaming in his bedroom. His mother shouldn’t be home yet and she has her own set of keys.

With a sinking heart, Guan Shan pictures his landlord demanding payment.

Worse, he pictures He Tian. Before He Tian left, they’d resolved nothing. It feels like being back to square one, chasing each other around a chess board. It fills him with a vast emptiness that makes him feel like he’s existing outside of himself, waiting for someone else to take over.

He pads silently towards the front door, his toothbrush jammed into his cheek, and peers through the viewer. There’s toothpaste dripping down his chin. In the hall, there’s no one there. He’s half-convinced he imagined it. He counts to ten before he opens the door, steps out—and his foot connects with something hard. There is a cardboard box sitting on the welcome mat.

Guan Shan peers around. The light in the stairwell is artificially bright. He kneels down and opens the tabs on the box, which hasn’t been taped. He swallows.

For the fish, says the note on the second box, nestled inside the first. Careful, it’s fragile.

Guan Shan rubs the heel of a palm into his right eye. He sighs. Then he reaches out, braces himself, and picks up the tank. He carries it into his apartment, and the door locks behind him.

thank you for reading! if you’d like to support me on my ko-fi/request a short drabble, you can do so here: https://ko-fi.com/agapaic 💞

#19 days #tianshan #old xian #he tian #mo guan shan #my fanfic #sorry for errors - it's late but i couldn't get this out my head

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moonlight-frittata · 3 years

Text

I Don’t Need a Mechanic

Overwatch: Dva and Brigitte (a few others make appearances)

Word count: ~5500

My take on when Dva meets Brigitte and the first month or so of them getting to know each other on base.

---

Six months Hana Song had been a part of Overwatch, and during that time she set a very strict precedent that no one, not even Winston or Athena the AI was allowed to touch her mech, Tokki. So seeing the back of someone inside the cockpit as she entered the Watchpoint Gibraltar hangar made her blood boil.

“Excuse me!! What the hell are you doing??”

The person’s body jerked, their head banging against the low roof of the cockpit ceiling they wedged their torso inside. Hana heard a short mumble of something incomprehensible and a long, thick ponytail of red hair retreated from the mech in a hurry. A very tall, buff young woman around Hana’s age emerged blushing with a sheepish grin.

“Ah! I’m so sorry, I couldn't help myself. I’ve always wondered what these Korean models looked like up close. But in hindsight I really should have asked first.”

Her accent was European, but it was hard for Hana to place with any real certainty. Could have been Scandinavian, remembering some of the players from Finland she competed against back in her pro days.

“Yeah, you should have fucking asked.”

The crimson hue on the tall, possibly Finnish trespasser’s cheeks faded and she held her ground, not scared off yet by D.va’s harsh tone.

“Right. Won’t happen again, I promise,” she said.

Dva scoffed a bit and pushed past the buff intruder to look inside the mech to inspect if anything was out of place. A moment of stuffy silence passed between the two and Hana hoped the other girl would get the message and leave.

“I’m Brigitte Lindholm by the way.”

Hana let out an audible huff as a familiar freckled face appeared looking through the glass on the other side of her heads up display.

“Oh. Yeah, Fareeha warned me a new girl was joining,” Hana replied from inside the cockpit while she busied herself checking Tokki’s systems.

“And you’re Hana Song, right?” Brigitte continued lightly, clearly unperturbed. “Or do you prefer to go by D.va?”

Hana paused at the mention of her gamer tag turned call sign.

“It’s Lieutenant Song, actually.”

Brigitte raised an eyebrow at the curt reply, her smile fading to a neutral expression. It only dipped for a moment though as she extended her hand.

It was an awkward gesture to shake hands from inside the mech, even though the front of the cockpit was partially open near the joysticks. Hana looked at Brigitte’s outstretched hand and gentle smile on the other side of the glass. Was this a joke? She pursed her lips and sized Brigitte up for a few tense seconds before reaching out. The grip was firm and Hana’s hand practically disappeared in Brigitte’s large palm.

“Lieutenant Song. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Hana sighed and rolled her eyes, a little of the bluster going out of her at the sincerity in Brigitte’s tone. Satisfied that no harm had come to the mech, she backed out of the cockpit.

“Just call me Hana. That rank doesn’t really mean anything here anyway. Lena will probably make fun of me if she hears you calling me Lieutenant.”

Brigitte walked back around Tokki to join her, a lingering hand tracing over the pink exoskeleton as she moved. “I’m surprised she doesn’t make you call her Captain.”

“Oh, she’s tried.”

Brigitte laughed.

“Sounds about right.”

D.Va chuckled for a moment, briefly disarmed by the new stranger, before she remembered how this person was rudely poking around her stuff only moments before, and snapped back into her gruff demeanor.

“Lindholm, you said? Like Torbjörn Lindholm?”

Brigitte sighed, clearly used to this connection.

“Yes. Genius engineer of Overwatch 1.0, founder of Ironclad Industries, husband to Ingrid, and father of way too many children, including yours truly.”

“So, you grew up in an Overwatch family?” Hana asked as her full attention focused on Brigitte for the first time in their conversation.

“You could say that,” Brigitte said. She picked up a silver ratchet resting on a nearby worktable, spinning the head around between her fingers and levering the handle back and forth, testing the weight distribution of the tool in her hand.

Hana could tell there was more to the story than her new teammate seemed willing to let on. She found it interesting that Brigitte, who had been all candid smiles a moment ago when she was caught somewhere she shouldn’t be and oversharing to someone she just met, was now hand waving around the subject.

Overwatch kids are pretty up their own asses about 1.0 normally. Wonder what her deal is...

This was what Hana was known for back in her pro days. Seeing a flaw in an opponent’s defense and breaking it wide open. But she needed to remember she only just met this girl, who would soon be her teammate. Maybe save that for another day.

“Well, Lindholm. As long as you stay clear of my mech, I don’t see a reason we should have problems working together. What’s your specialty?”

Brigitte perked up at the change of subject.

“Support. Both base level engineering support and in the field. I've got my bachelor’s degree in mechanical engineering, and I’ve been working on Reinhardt’s gear for over a year now. Angela - I mean, Dr. Ziegler, is training me to be certified as a field medic.”

“Tough job. Think you can handle the gore?”

A wry smile pulled at Brigitte’s lips, her head shaking back and forth in a small, bemused gesture as she placed her hands on her hips.

“You don’t pull any punches do you, Lieutenant Song?”

D.Va crossed her arms, holding eye contact with Brigitte who matched her gaze with amusement.

“The best shot caller in the world is just a loud piece of shit if her team isn’t up to the same standard. So yeah, I like to know who has my back and if she can handle herself.”

Brigitte regarded D.Va for a moment, her jaw working back and forth as if chewing on the approach she wanted to take in response.

“I’ve been patching up Reinhardt for a while now. If I’m honest though, I’m scared it’s not going to be enough one day. But that’s not what I need to focus on, and instead I’ll do the best I can to support the people here.”

The plain way Brigitte shared her apprehensions left Hana uncomfortable. She couldn’t imagine telling someone out loud she was afraid, especially on her first day. Though in truth, she herself felt scared shitless half the time while doing this work.

Brigitte’s smile was back. Did it ever leave that pretty face? It did suit her though, framed by the freckles and warm brown eyes. If this girl wasn’t built like a literal tank of 6 foot something muscle, Hana might have more apprehension about sending her out to fight Omnics and Talon.

“Well Lieutenant Song, I think I’ve taken up enough of your time with my intrusion. Fareeha and Winston will be missing me very shortly for the rest of their planned orientation schedule,” Brigitte said as she carefully placed the ratchet she previously picked up back on the workstation, breaking the spell of awkward silence.

D.Va smirked, feeling tension leave her shoulders to match Brigitte’s playful demeanor.

“Mmm, well now I understand why you were hiding down here.”

“Yes they are indeed quite enthusiastic and thorough with their material.”

She gave a wink and started to walk away, turning briefly to call over her shoulder.

“I noticed there was a small coolant leak under the left fusion cannon. Might get a bit sticky on the left hand.”

“Bye Brigitte, enjoy your 300 page orientation manual quiz.”

Brigitte waved once more and turned around, already so sure and familiar with the layout of the hangar and the base.

She’s just another Overwatch kid, and just another nosey engineer trying to get in my mech.

Hana lingered by her workstation, picking up the ratchet Brigitte had been fiddling with and thinking over their brief encounter again.

Would this girl be a liability on the battlefield? Brigitte looked strong on the exterior, but then, so did Tokki. If you took away the mecha armor, inside was just a squishy human target bullets and fire could cut through like paper the second she was exposed and vulnerable.

Hana took a deep breath.

She walked around to the left fusion cannon and did indeed see the signs that a coolant leak was backing up inside the casing. Pretty subtle to spot with minimal visible damage to the exterior.

Not bad, Lindholm.

D.Va pulled her headphones on, turning to her latest loop of pop songs to blast while she went to work removing the panels on the cannon to replace the broken coolant line. The task felt good, and helped her mind drift to thoughts other than her conversation in the hangar.

---

Hana didn’t see much of Brigitte the next few weeks. The new recruit was busy with training and learning mission protocols expected of field agents in addition to shifts with Mercy in the clinic to fulfill the certifications Brigitte was required to complete. Hana would see her sometimes at dinner, often in a spirited conversation with Reinhardt or Lena. It seemed to take Brigitte no time at all to fit in amongst the old guard, but it seemed that’s what being the favorite niece of pretty much every person here would get you.

Hana would half listen to their stories, always feeling awkward and out of place amongst their banter. Overwatch was like a family, but she was more like the stranger invited as someone’s plus one. Everyone seemed to have an ingrained familiarity with each other. A single word could trigger a whole series of anecdotes every person around had some personal insight to add on to.

Remember this!

Oh how is so and so?

Damn, that was 5 years ago already?

Even on her squad in Korea, she never had what they people here seemed to have. Dae-hyun was a close childhood friend and followed her into the MEKA squad, but the other pilots were a different story. There was always a bit of friction and distance with the rest of her teammates because of their history as pro-gamer competitors forced into an arrangement as teammates. It never really gelled beyond cordial coworker relationships. Hana’s celebrity status didn’t help either, only adding another barrier between herself and the others. The fame of D.Va closed her off in access to most people unless they were on the other side of a screen, and then they only saw a polished up version of herself.

Not exactly the best way to get close to people.

Sometimes she was curious to learn more when she heard the Overwatch stories, but she always stopped herself before saying anything. It was easier to pull out her phone and queue up a game. Easy to pull back and ignore them, and usually they left her alone to do it.

She was okay with that. She was okay with keeping Hana and D.Va separate. She was okay with only polite greetings and trite platitudes. She didn’t need to know about the times from before, or what her Overwatch teammates did on the weekends. She just needed them to listen to her in the field and leave her room to make her plays. Like every time she started a new game, she didn’t have to focus on the past, or what others thought, she just had to focus on the objective in front of her. It’s what got the job done and what kept her alive.

---

Brigitte kept her word to stay out of Hana’s mech. She set up her own work station on the other side of the hangar where she worked on Reinhardt’s gear as well as her own. Hana would sometimes see the blue flash of a shield out of the corner of her eye over the hum of diagnostic scans or smell the burn of sparks from welding.

One day curiosity got the best of her when she heard the loud, repetitive pounding of a hammer on metal and she wandered across the hangar.

“You’re doing that by hand?”

Brigitte stopped working when she heard the voice behind her, the deafening echo silenced on the metal shoulder guard she was beating against.

“On this armor I do. Reinhardt’s gear is special from the time it was made. It has to be maintained with some older techniques.”

“Why?”

Brigitte looked at her surprised for a moment then laughed, loud and warm.

“You know, I wondered the same at first. It’s a bit of the way this armor is made, modern techniques can be too harsh on it, interestingly enough. Too precise and it becomes too fragile.”

“That doesn’t sound true,” D.va said.

“Oh, questioning my methods huh? Well, maybe the truth is more I didn’t originally have the right gear out in the field, and Reinhardt didn’t have much modern tech either, so the only way to do it was by hand. But it’s nice actually to keep doing it this way, I like getting my hands dirty with it. Helps me relax.”

“See that I believe.”

“Well, I’m glad I have your approval, Lieutenant Song.”

D.Va rolled her eyes, but smiled a little.

“I told you before, you can just call me Hana. Although, I do like the respect of authority.”

“Lieutenant suits you.”

Hana smirked a little at the complement, turning to pick something up on a nearby table. She picked up one of Brigitte’s gauntlets, slipping it on her hand. Her arm sagged under the weight, the glove coming up well above her elbow.

“Is it exhausting wearing all this armor? How do you run around with it on? I can barely lift this thing.”

“There’s movement assist when the unit is turned on. But I mean, I think I can handle it.”

Brigitte smirked as she made a show of flexing her well defined arms, and Hana couldn’t help but gawk a bit before she turned back to fiddling with the glove.

“Um, yeah I uh, noticed you seem to be in good shape.”

“Oh yeah?” Brigitte was smirking, clearly enjoying the slight fluster she was causing in her new teammate. Hana put the glove back on the table and gave Brigitte a light shove on the arm.

“Oh give me a break, you know you’re buff. Do you even own a shirt with sleeves?”

“I’m very familiar with OW 2.0’s handbook, and the dress code is quite lax about on-base personal attire. But, mostly I just like hearing you complement me.”

Hana rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m glad you’re strong enough to move your ass around in this armor so you can protect my blindspots while I’m doing all the real heavy lifting.”

Brigitte laughed again. Hana couldn’t help but smile too at the warm sound. Brigitte’s whole face lit up, and her eyes crinkled around the edges. No wonder she was the favorite niece.

“Fair. I’ve seen your battle footage and some news clips when you were back in Korea. You’re so strong, I doubt you even need me.”

“Ah, another fan of D.Va. Well, who can blame you,” Hana said with a flick of her hair. She continued to walk around Brigitte’s workstation, picking up random pieces of armor. Brigitte didn’t seem to mind.

“Actually Reinhardt was the real die hard D.Va fan. We used to always have a stash of the instant noodles with your face on them in our rig. Great shelf life. I’m surprised he hasn’t asked you for an autograph yet.”

“Well he’s one to talk! Did you know, when I was a kid there was a Reinhardt special edition line of noodles? I remember I tried them once and they had such a weird flavor. It was like ketchup and curry powder or something. He had a pretty big fanbase in Korea actually.”

“Hah! I didn’t know that, but I’d believe it. There’s been so much Overwatch merchandise over the years, I’ve lost track. They were such celebrities back in the day.”

“Yeah.”

Hana knew a thing or two about having her image used for propaganda. She wondered for a moment what it was like for Brigitte, growing up amongst the same environment, but removed from the center of it. An image of her laughing in the cafeteria with the old guard flashed through her mind. She decided it must have not been too bad, and refrained from asking the question.

“Okay well, I’ll leave you to your meditative, hammer time. I need to get back to my mech anyway, I’ve got a mission tomorrow morning,” Hana said, turning to leave. Brigitte let out a long sigh, slumping into a chair.

“Oh, it must be nice to leave the base.”

Hana stopped in her tracks, curious again, hearing such an outburst from Brigitte. She turned around and poked one of Brigitte’s large muscles near her shoulder.

“Oh come on, don’t be dramatic. You’ll be done with your training block soon. Fareeha is just, really particular before she lets anyone out on a mission. It took almost two months, and me breaking every score in the simulators for her to let me out in the field.”

“I know, I know. It just sucks sometimes feeling like everyone is being overprotective of me. I can handle myself, I’m not a little kid.”

Hana couldn’t help but give a little hmphf sound, her lips pulling down at the corners.

“Yeah, I get that feeling. You can’t speed up time though, you just have to grind it out.”

Hana wasn’t normally one for listening to whining, but she thought Brigitte looked quite cute while she pouted, her arms crossed tight against her torso and her lip jutted out. It was hard not to laugh at the sight a bit, but Hana held her tongue. She really did know how it felt to want to prove yourself.

“Hey come on, there’s plenty of work you’re doing here that’s valuable. And when you’re ready, you’ll get called up and out there with the rest of us.”

Brigitte took a deep breath, seeming to blow out the negative feelings in one dramatic sigh. When she straightened up in her chair she seemed to be in better spirits, smiling at Hana again.

“You probably know better than anyone how to do that. Thanks Lieutenant, I’ll try. Let me know if my hammering gets too distracting. I can always go find something else to do.”

“It’s fine. I hardly noticed.”

“Well in that case, I’ll just be over here until dinner time.”

---

A few days later Hana almost threw her computer across the hangar.

“Why is this piece of shit so useless!”

The MEKA diagnostic program she used to keep Tokki up to date was crashing every five minutes when she tried to run a scan of the system. It had slowly been degrading the last few weeks and after the latest mission it apparently decided it had enough. She tried every trick she knew, both from working on the mech for years and everything she could think of on her personal gaming rig, but she only had rudimentary coding skills and was vastly out of her depth.

“Everything okay?”

Brigitte’s gentle voice called out from a few feet away as she had stopped her own work to come see D.Va’s meltdown.

“Everything’s fine. Except I’m going to have to go throw this piece of crap, and then myself, in the ocean.”

“Sounds like a costly solution. What’s going on?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine, I don’t need anyone’s help.”

She could feel Brigitte’s sympathetic look burning into her cheek and hated it.

“Okay no problem. I’m around though, just let me know if you want an extra set of eyes.”

Hana stared at the email she had sent to Dae-Hyun the day before that still had no response. She knew her mech’s hardware inside and out, but he was the one who really handled all the intense computer program internals. She was out of her depth here and needed him to call her so she could get this thing working again, but he wasn’t answering. Maybe he was deployed somewhere or too busy with a social life now that she was gone.

She had decided to come here for Overwatch. So maybe she should trust Overwatch.

“Brigitte, wait a minute.”

The other girl paused and turned, only having walked a few feet away from D.Va’s workstation.

“I could probably use some help here, if you’re still offering?”

Brigitte smiled, but it was more muted than her usual mega watt grin. Hana appreciated that she wasn’t making a big deal about it.

God, why is this girl so nice.

“Definitely.”

Brigitte walked around the workbench where Hana set up her computer station and listened to the general description of the problems. As Hana started clicking through screens to show the protocol she usual ran, Brigitte held up a hand to make her stop.

“I understand what you’re saying, but looking at the text, I can’t read Korean. Does it have a translation setting?” “I doubt it. This thing was only meant to be used by the Korean MEKA squad.” Hana felt her stomach drop at how quick her hopes of getting this programming running were already dashed.

“Well lucky for us, Overwatch has some very robust translation tech we can utilize.” “Really? It’s not the AI is it? I’ve been so resistant to letting her in my computer.”

“That would be one possibility, but there are some more localized options we have. I’ve had to do this once or twice on one of my papa’s projects.”

“How long will it take?” “Don’t know! Could take a while, I’m not going to lie to you, especially with your program already acting buggy. But don’t worry Lieutenant, we’ll sort you out.”

Hana groaned, already having major doubts about letting Brigitte mess with her tech. But she didn’t have a lot of options, and this was probably the least embarrassing choice on the table at the moment.

Brigitte moved back and forth between D.Va’s workstation and her own across the hangar, gathering cables and a laptop she would use to debug the system. Hana watched over Brigitte’s shoulder for a while, monitoring her work to get the translation program working on the MEKA diagnostic software.

“Where’d you learn to do this type of thing?”

“Back in college. I had to learn a certain amount of coding for my major, but I helped out Winston some in his lab on campus and he taught me a lot of tricks too.”

“Jesus, is there literally anyone on this fucking base you don’t have some personal connection with?”

Hana stepped away from the computer and dropped down into an empty chair with a huff, spinning the chair on its axis in erratic circles.

Brigitte stopped typing and watched Hana’s tantrum. “It bothers you that I’ve got a close connection to Overwatch?”

Hana did not reply, but crossed her arms and let out a frustrated sigh. Brigitte’s gaze held her for a moment but eventually shifted back to the computer screen as she seemed to weigh her thoughts on how to respond.

“Why did you leave the MEKA squad to join Overwatch?” she asked finally. “It doesn’t have the best history as an organization, you know.”

Hana stopped spinning to look at the side of Brigitte’s face, who’s eyes were still trained on the laptop screen. “Well it’s better to actually be in a fight than on the sidelines.”

Brigitte stopped what she was doing and turned to face D.va. “You’re the best pilot in the MEKA program. Why would you be sidelined?”

Hana let out a bitter laugh. “Best pilot? I was more than that. I was the face of the fucking Korean army! Which eventually meant I was too valuable to be an actual soldier.” Hana stood up walking to the end of the workbench, reaching out to touch one of her mecha’s guns. She couldn’t see Brigitte, but she could feel the other girl watching her.

“I got real banged up in a fight with the Gwishin. Like, probably should have died kind of banged up. I was out of action for months. After that, the army realized they couldn’t let the poster girl for their success stories die in an actual fight. So they moved me off the Busan base and deployed me to lead baby fights happening inland, but whose sole purpose was really just a photo op.”

Hana balled her fist in anger at her side, remembering how awful it hurt seeing images of herself on television in all those epic battle sequences, reporters singing praises of heroism, only to know the real truth that it was all a fabricated lie. She couldn’t stand it.

“So when Winston and Lena came to my apartment and asked me to join the new Overwatch, it was a no brainer. My piloting skills are too valuable to just be sidelined in a studio with a green screen.”

The MEKA squad team was fairly understanding when she told them. The same couldn’t be said for her commanding officers, but as D.Va, the amount of influence and money at her disposal proved sufficient for a smooth enough transition.

“I believed this was my shot to get back in the fight. So even if there’s some bad history there, this is a new chance for me, and I am ready to deal with any fallout.”

Text whizzed by in the background of the computer screen as the console spat out a continuous stream of logs from the program Brigitte fired off as she listened in silence.

“I never liked Overwatch. I still don’t,” Brigitte finally said.

Hana turned to face her, very confused.

“Really? But, you’re like, one of the legacy kids.”

“All that means is I know more of the gritty details and seen firsthand the way people I love were chewed up by this place.”

Hana’s brow furrowed in thought, crossing her arms as she focused on Brigitte. Hana had been so taken in by all the happy scenes in the mess hall and around the base, she hadn’t even thought about the implications and complications that must have been a part of Brigitte’s life. She was so good at always putting on a bright face, how could she have known?

Brigitte took a deep breath, looking weary as she took a moment to gather her thoughts.

“When I was a kid, it was like I was one of those audience members you talked about. I was told all the best stories about heroes and villains, and it so happened that my family were literally starring as those heroes. But when I was a little older, I started learning more about history, and the other side of things. The PETRAS act. In fighting and war crimes. Blackwatch. Angela’s medical tech weaponized against her wishes, by my own father it turns out. Winston and Tracer buried under so much red tape, I’m honestly surprised they were ever allowed to leave a military base of their own free will. And Reinhardt... He’s a lot like you, I think. Brave, loyal, too stubborn to be just the face of a movement without putting his own skin on the line. Not when there’s something bigger than himself he believes in.”

A deep sigh, and an almost painful expression crossed her face.

“So no, I don’t like Overwatch. But I also can’t sit on the sidelines while they risk their lives, knowing I can help them. They’re my family. So here I am. Family can be complicated, ya know?”

Before Hana could come up with something to say, the computer dinged behind them. Brigitte tapped on the keys, reading quickly when a smile crossed her lips.

“Look at that, perfectly legible Swedish.”

“It’s fixed?” Hana hurried over to look at the computer screen.

“Well, the translation program is running. Now I need to actually debug your diagnostics program.”

“Ughhhh, I’m never going to leave this place.”

Brigitte chuckled. “Don’t worry, we’ll get it done. Feel free to go get some dinner if you want. This will take a while.”

“No way I’m going to leave you here all alone!”

“I promise I won’t touch Tokki.”

“It’s not...it’s not that, Brigitte. I just don’t feel right strolling off to dinner while you’re stuck here fixing my shit.”

Brigitte smiled.

“Okay. I definitely don’t mind the company.”

---

Hana tried to keep up with what Brigitte was talking about as she debugged the code. And she could follow along, for a while. Eventually she was way too lost to feel useful, and didn’t want to distract Brigitte while she was fixing the issues, so she retreated to a nearby futon against a wall. It was well past midnight, and Hana’s eyes were starting to droop. Brigitte drank one of the Dva branded nano cola energy drinks a while ago and seemed to be completely in the zone.

The next thing Hana knew there was a strip of bright light in her eyes as the sun started to stream in through a window in the hangar. Hana stretched to pull out the discomfort her back protested with from not being in her bed, but it was really not that unfamiliar, considering some of the positions she’d fallen asleep at her gaming computer before. A blanket was draped across her body she didn’t remember picking up when laid down on the futon. She was all alone in the hangar and her watch told her it was just after 5am.

“Brigitte?”

No one answered.

She sat up, noticing an unopened water bottle and energy bar laid out on the ground beside her futon with a little sticky note.

“Give it a go, Lt - Brig”

Hana scooped up the rations and dropped in front of the dark screen of her laptop. When she started up the terminal screen, her diagnostic programming kicked off like it normally did. All in Korean.

The screen showed exactly where an electric circuit was tripping in the defense matrix grid of the mech, which had been glitching in the field the last few days. Hana noticed the parts and tools needed to complete the fix laid out on the workbench neatly, but when she poked her head in the mech, it remained untouched.

She smiled to herself.

“Kept her word to stay out of Tokki. These Overwatch kids are too much sometimes.”

D.Va pulled the panel off her mech and got to work.

----

At dinner that night, Hana spotted Brigitte in the mess hall with Reinhardt, Tracer and Winston. Brigitte gave her a wink when she noticed her. Hana got her meal and sat beside her, leaving her phone in her pocket for once.

“Thanks for the help with Tokki, Brigitte. Works like a charm now.”

“It was my pleasure, Lieutenant Song.” Brigitte’s smile was kind, her expression gentle and warm. Hana noticed this close up Brigitte’s eyes were lighter around the edges, and she had a few more freckles on her left cheek than the right.

“Did I just ‘ear you call ‘ana Lieutenant?” Lena cut in. “She’s ‘Lieutenant’, but I can’ get none of you to call me Captain? Double standards round ‘ere, I tell ya what.”.

“Well, Hana was a more recent officer in her respective position, while you have been discharged from the RAF for several years now.”

“Who’s side you on Win!? Those ranks don’t expire!”

Brigitte chuckled, whipping her head around to look at Tracer’s shaking her hand dramatically in the air, eyes downcast in an over acted, scandalized look. Hana also let out a small giggle.

“Your rank on the flight simulator scoreboard sure did,” Hana said, poking her tongue out with a playful smirk at Tracer. Brigitte, Reinhardt and Winston all laughed.

“She’s got you there, Lena,” Brigitte said.

“The youth of today. Ruthless.” Tracer grabbed a fist over her heart as if shot in the chest by a bullet.

“You know, back in my days of Overwatch…”

Reinhardt started in on one of his specially tailored stories for whatever situation was at hand, this case a very detailed recount of the first time he granted a field promotion in the Crusaders. Brigitte sighed, correcting inaccuracies she heard along the way, giving a wink to Hana when Brigitte’s presence in the story was pulled into the story much later on.

Lena took up the torch after that, remembering a time she accidentally flew into restricted airspace and managed to sweet talk her way out of being shot down. They all took turns sharing more elaborate one ups from their time before Overwatch. Hana even volunteered a story, sharing the time she convinced Dae-hyun to set Tokki up to stream a battle with the omnics. She broke her single day subscriber count in under one hour.

They all laughed well into the night, and for the first time Hana really started to feel like part of the team.

---

Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed!

#overwatch #mekamechanic #dva #brigitte lindholm #laura writes #man I've been poking at this for ever finally time to just put it out in the world so I can think about something new ahaha #hope you like!#hana song #(also there was no 300 page onboarding manual until Pharah wrote it)

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

Diving Bell - Andy Barber smut

The one where Andy has been a patient librarian, but now that you’ve accepted his advances...

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, dubcon, (andy pushes the relationship into boundaries that weren’t previously consented), age gap, (reader is over eighteen and in college), semi-public sex, somewhat of an exhibitionism kink, oral (f), andy’s definitely dark but reader is generally into it, she just doesn’t know what “it” will be, dirty talk

Word count: 3k<

A/N: this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them, instead of on Thursdays, which are my usual one-shot posting days. Hope you guys like it!

Reader’s P.O.V.

My face burned and I wondered how I hadn’t spontaneously combusted from how hot I felt under the hot new librarian’s gaze. Sure, the girls had warned me about it - I’d hear so much about him, in fact, that I was sure I’d be disappointed when I actually did manage to meet him.

Boy, was I wrong.

He was the definition of daddy, luscious beard and hair just begging to be pulled and I could feel the burn his jaw would leave behind if he deposited kisses down my neck - or better yet, on the insides of my thighs - but he was at least twenty years older than me.

There was absolutely no way I’d ever catch his attention. Not when so many girls had tried to get in his pants - girls hotter than me - and had failed miserably, as I’d been told time and time again from the very same seductresses.

So I saw absolutely no point in trying. Although, one could very well admire, right? Also, fantasize couldn’t do any harm, not even to my extremely vulnerable pride. It’s not like I could control it, anyway.

But another thing I couldn’t control was his effect on me. The way my whole body warmed up when I felt his eyes on it, how I couldn’t immediately focus on his words whenever he addressed me. I even stopped coming to the library to study because 1) I couldn’t concentrate with him around and 2) his presence had brought a whole new wave of first-time library users, and seeing as their interests weren’t on the actual books, they tended to be extremely loud.

Once essays started to get assigned though, there wasn’t much I could do. I had to get back to the library, and so I chose to go when it was already dark, hoping he wouldn’t pick up that shift, and knowing most frat girls would be at an impromptu Thursday-night party to celebrate (once again) the start of classes.

I didn’t understand why they couldn’t just throw a party for the sake of partying. Did they have to reuse the same excuse, over and over again? It’s not like anyone cared. I certainly didn’t, and the people who went for the free beer didn’t care about anything just as long as the alcohol kept flowing.

“What are you doing here?” His voice startled me, almost making me drop the pile of books I’d been gathering. Even though there was no way I’d confuse him with someone else, I still looked over my shoulder to make sure it was really him, that he was actually there, staring at me with those caring warm brown eyes.

“S-should I be anywhere else?” I tried to sass, even if my own voice gave me away. He chuckled though, extending a hand to help me with the load in my arms, and although I hesitated for a second, I ended up accepting his help. It was his job, after all. This couldn’t really be considered flirting, right?

“I don’t know. I’ve heard about this party tonight, figured you’d be there.” Frowning, I finally turned to stare at him directly in the eyes, almost immediately regretting my decision. Damn, he looked good.

“How do you know about the party?” I asked, and his lips immediately curled up, trying to contain a smile from stretching over his face.

“Some girls may or may not have invited me to meet them there.” Clicking my tongue, I decided to look back at the bookshelf, instead of paying him any more attention.

“Why? Are you jealous?” The question felt too much like something a fuckboy my age might ask me at a party, not a forty-year-old man who worked a full-time job. When I turned to look at him again, eyebrows raised high, he chuckled.

“Sorry, that’s not usually my style… I’m just at a loss of ways to get you to notice me, that’s all.” Well, now I was beyond shocked.

“Why do you want me to notice you?” I asked, utterly confused, but Andy just laughed, shaking his head at me like he was profoundly amused by my ways.

“I always notice when you’re around. Even worse, I always notice when you aren’t.” And then, as he looked around like he wanted to make sure other people wouldn’t hear him, he leaned over me and confessed, “It gets pretty lonely here without you.”

The accompanying wink almost gave me a heart attack. Stuttering out something even though I didn’t know what to say, I moved away from the bookshelf in search of the nearest table, finding it thankfully empty.

When I turned around to look for him again, he was right by my side.

“I don’t get it,” I managed to admit once my arms were book-free. “We’ve talked like twice. You helped me find books, I acted like a fool. You weren’t supposed to flirt with me, why aren’t you interested in the college girls who actually hit on you?”

He raised his eyebrows before frowning, hands deep in his pockets as he stared down at me in all of his height. “Have you ever considered… that I just don’t want them?”

The insinuation stirred something deep inside of me, leaving me flushed and overall a mess. Stumbling out an apology, I gathered my stuff and left as quickly as possible, determined to process what had happened that evening by myself, so it could actually feel real and I could decide what to do from then on.

But something changed ever since that evening. I stopped trying to run away from him and started to actively go to the library in the times I knew he was there, at first still avoiding him and looking away every time he caught me staring, silently grateful that he didn’t try to force me to open up to him.

His patience was rewarded when in a few weeks, I began to talk to him again. Asking him for book recommendations, never anything other than what was strictly related to his job, but the way his eyes glinted knowingly at me warned me that he did understand where my mind was at.

It didn’t take long for him to start flirting with me, and from then on, I slowly accepted his advances and even began to eagerly wait for them.

I smiled widely when I heard his low whistle, admiring the way he looked in that comfortable sweater as he put away the books he was holding to fully give me all of his attention.

“Well, don’t you look incredible?” He asked as I twirled so he could fully see the dress I’d put on just for him. “Did you dress up for me, pretty girl? Because I like to think that you did.”

Biting my lower lip, I tried to gather the courage I’d been trying to build up all week, before finally nodding and admitting, “Yes, I did.” From the stupefied look on his face, it didn’t seem like he was expecting that. Even worse, I wasn’t expecting the outcome of my little attempt to flirt back.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” And that was all the warning I got before his hands cradled my face and he took my mouth in his, kissing me breathless, leaving me aching and soaked when he finally released me.

I was panting by the time he let go of my lips, and he smiled softly at me as he brushed over my cheekbones, saying, “You know… if you ever need anything… You know I’m always here to help.”

Andy’s P.O.V.

“So, what brings you here tonight?” My own smile denounced just how much of her intentions I already knew, from how well I knew her. Her late-night visits to the library had become more and more frequent, and I couldn’t say that I hated it.

“I don’t know,” she feigned nonchalance, shrugging while perusing the bookshelves before looking back at me from over her shoulder. “The hot new librarian in charge of the night shift has told me he was always available to help me with anything I needed, and I’ve been needing a distraction.”

My chuckle was low, in order not to interrupt the few students still trying to finish whatever assignment they were working on, but she heard it. I watched as she shivered at the sound of my voice, prompting me to lick my lips at the powerful reaction I could so easily elicit from her.

“You didn’t use to be so blunt,” I teased, remembering how she used to come in here looking for me, only to run away at the last second. It was adorable. Ever since I started working at this university, it wasn’t unusual for college girls to come in groups and watch me from a distance, their giggles whenever I glanced at them unmistakable in the almost completely silent environment. Eventually, one or two would always break away from the group and try to flirt while their friends became a captive audience, but I was quick to shut them down.

They weren’t the one I wanted. She was standing in front of me now, pretending to be interested in a random book, biting her lower lip to keep a smile from spreading over her face. “Do you miss it?”

There was something undeniably attractive by her shyness back then, her inability to ask me for information or even sustain my gaze, but now that I knew what it was like to have her meet my eyes, now that I’d had the luxury of hearing her speak, of getting to know the intricacies of her mind, how could I miss what was, back then, a stranger?

“Not at all.” Her laughter, even subdued because of the place we were in, was enough to have my stomach doing backflips. I had to smile, instinctively getting closer to her, just like a moth, drawn to a flame.

“I want to do dirty, dirty things to you,” I admitted, one hand on the back of her head as I pressed her against the bookshelf, my lips just over her ear as my beard undoubtedly tickled her neck. “Can’t very well protect my soul if I’m still thinking about you as an innocent little thing, now can I?”

Her eyes dropped down to my lips before meeting mine again, and just like that, I had all the authorization I needed to connect our lips and kiss her breathless. Humming in delight against her quiet neediness, her eagerness to open her lips, welcome my tongue with hers, I blindly moved us further towards the back of the library, relaxed in the knowledge that amongst taxidermia books no one would come to check on us.

Not that I cared all that much if they did.

“Hm… Want me, sweetheart?” I pressed, needing to hear her say it, taking sick pleasure in knowing this came from her, this was her own desire. She almost didn’t answer me, eyelids heavily pressing her eyes closed when our mouths parted, but in the absence of my touch on her, she jolted.

“Yeah, I do! I do, I do…” She insisted, pressing herself against me, feeling just how badly I wanted her too. It made her gasp, witnessing how hard she had made me - she didn’t know it yet, but it’d been this way ever since the first day.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I whispered, just to see the way goosebumps took over her flesh while I got rid of her underwear, moving us towards an empty table where I could lay her out to take.

“No, I don’t want you to stop,” she moaned when she saw me leaning over to kiss between her legs, eyes still connected to hers until she closed them to throw her head back, overtaken by the sensation of my warm tongue slipping between her folds. It was better that way, she wouldn’t see the dangerous smirk that denounced that she would come to regret her words before I was done with her.

She tasted just as sweet as I always imagined her to. So wet already, it was clear she was desperate for me. The cock straining against my pants reminded me I couldn’t be too cocky about it - I wanted her just as badly.

“C’mon, honey…” I teased, dipping my tongue in her hole as my thumb frantically rubbed her tiny clit. “Give me more, I want more.” I needed her to cum before I could shove my cock into her. It was important.

The sudden tension of her thighs denounced the arrival of her orgasm, and where usually I’d love nothing more than to keep licking her, delighting myself with her taste and overstimulating her sweet body until she was crying, there was only so much I could take tonight.

“There you go,” I complimented when she easily succumbed to my directions, having turned her around and laid her with her stomach on the table, legs dangling off of it. “Want to feel me now, pretty girl? Want me to fill you now?”

Her answer was a whine as her hips searched for mine. She was offering herself to me, the innocent little thing. Didn’t know I’d take her regardless of it.

I had the instinct of slapping my hand over her mouth as I penetrated her, and so her moan came out muffled. I could still understand a breathless, “so good…” being uttered against my palm, and it only made me bite down on my lip harder, so my own sounds wouldn’t reverberate across the silent library.

It was a twisted kind of pleasure to hold her arms back as I fucked her roughly but as silently as possible, trying not to make the table squeak so it wouldn’t draw attention to us. Even though I didn’t particularly care if someone did find us - I wouldn’t stop fucking her if God himself tried to intervene - I’d prefer to reach my goal without unwanted interferances.

So I was glad she didn’t seem to mind the fact that anyone could easily look our way and see us fucking. Had I really tempted her that much, that she would let me do whatever I wanted to her body, just as long as I fucked her?

Guess I was about to find out.

“Do you know how many times I masturbated in the back room, thinking about this sweet pussy?” I asked, voice raspy with desire as I kept jackhammering her as quietly as possible, but probably failing to do so in the midst of my arousal. “To think I finally have it now, wrapped around my dick…” My voice faltered as I realized all of my dreams were about to come true, right at that moment.

“Can’t wait to fuck my cum back into you, sweetheart. I’m gonna keep you so full from now on.” I felt her body tense underneath my fingers as she processed my words, but it was too late for her now. My hand still over her mouth, I stopped her from screaming or fighting me in any way.

“Just relax, honey. Doesn’t it feel so good?” I mocked, fucking her harder and harder as my control slipped from me. “It feels good for me, too. So now you’ll have to take it.”

Reaching around for her clit, I started rubbing it in quick little motions, desperate to feel her cunt clenching around me once more, milking my cum.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Cum again for me. Let me keep making you feel good as you do the same for me.” Her orgasm had her legs raising between mine, right when I started to spill inside of her, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Once I was sure she wouldn’t scream, I took my hand away and pushed her back against the desk, massaging her ass eagerly, hoping it would take.

“You’ll look so good all round with my child.” Once I pulled my cock from her, I made sure to adjust her underwear so it would stop my cum from flowing, massaging the damp tissue with a smug expression.

She managed to turn around in my embrace, blinking confusedly, mouth opening and closing as if she couldn’t quite figure out what she wanted to say, and I cooed at her adorableness.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take good care of you and the little one.” I rubbed my hand over where she would soon grow, licking my lips at the mental image of her pregnant. God, why did that make me so hard?

“You can trust me,” I assured her, pulling her closer to I could kiss her forehead, before adjusting her body so it rested on mine. I knew there were tears rolling down her cheeks, but it was just from her coming down from the adrenaline high. She wanted this. She just needed to be able to think clearly to see just how perfect this would be. “We’ll be so happy together.”

#tw dubcon #My 2k challenge #my fics #andy barber smut #librarian au #andy barber #smut #andy barber x reader #andy barber reader #andy barber reader insert #andy barber reader inserts #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you

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