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justmywriting1313 · 6 months ago

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Stupid British Man (John Price x f!Reader)

This is fairly unfinished and an unedited product of my fixation on these stupid military man and every hurt/comfort scenario you can think of but nonetheless enjoy!

PS:- I would really really REALLY love some COD requests since thats where the inspiration for writing is flourishing soooooo yeah please send stuff in thank you<3

Summary: John's a great captain but like all men in love he is also a stupid british man!

Warnings: Talk and direct mentions of smexy times, no aftercare (but not intentional and will come in part 2)

Jonathan Price is a military man...

More than that, he is a captain and a military man...

A captain in the military needs to embody many qualities, one of the most important being the ability to remain strong and stable in the face of adversity, anchored and calm in uncertainty, and always aware of their surroundings, especially when confronted with unprecedented situations that demand logic and rationality.

It's a trait John was not only confident he possessed but one he prided himself on (considering he was the captain of three complete muppets at times). Yet, as he stands there in his flannel pajamas, his member still damp and somewhat aroused from the recent pounding he gave you not five minutes ago, a warm washcloth in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, John has never been more flabbergasted in his life as he watches you cutely jump to pull your leggings up over your waist.

You had already fastened your bra and were now pulling your old university shirt over your head, a shirt John had previously loved. However, given that he had finally slept with you after a two-month deployment, he would prefer to see you in his clothing or nothing at all. Therefore, the sight of the worn-out piece of cloth offended him, to say the least. Even more so, because neither of you had received a lick of aftercare and the lack of it was making him antsy. Instead of waiting for him in bed like you should have, you were rummaging through your duffel bag for something John couldn't be bothered to inquire about. He was certain that nothing was important enough for you to leave the sheets before he had a chance to clean you up properly. So, with as much calm as he could muster, he said,

"What on fuckin' earth are you doing?

The heavy, accented voice of the captain makes you jump as you straighten up, not having heard him come in. You whirl around to face the man you have been infatuated with since your first meeting, the same man who fulfilled so many of your fantasies over the last few hours and is now standing in the doorway of his room with a flabbergasted look about his rugged face. The tears you had been doing a good job of suppressing so far immediately reappear, though you were adamant about not letting them fall… God forbid you be known on base as the girl who cries after sex. Instead, you give him a smile before turning away as you begin to wrangle your hair into a ponytail and reply,

"What do you mean, what am I doing, John?"

John can only splutter at your nonchalant response, his brain having completely short-circuited… Clearly, something is lost in translation.

You only shrug at his shock before continuing to gather your spread-out things into your small bag, trying your best to curb the small, pathetic whimper that is bound to leave your lips if you spend any more time in this man's room surrounded by so much of him. Instead, in the heavy silence of the room, you mull over the events of what got you in his bed in the first place…

You and John met 8 months ago when you were brought onto his military base as a licensed psychologist specialising in psychotherapy for young adults. Your main job was to work with the younger recruits, which included the ones trained by John's own men. John can still recall the first time he saw you as you came barreling in through his door, your angry voice bouncing off the walls of his office. You were a small thing, barely reaching the bottom of the man's chest, with long hair and high cheekbones. You were dressed in leggings that flared at the bottom and drove John insane, with a striped sweater on top, your soft curves visible through the knitted material.

You were the most tender thing he had seen on base, and despite all this softness, you squared off against the military captain, demanding to speak to his lieutenant and give the man a piece of your mind for traumatizing your recruits more than any battlefield could. John had never been rash a day in his life, and yet he had promised himself he would make everything and anything to do with you a personal matter.

You, on the other hand, had not perceived the butterflies the older Brit gave you until the next day when he had come knocking on your door. Dressed in a tight shirt and his camo pants, he was every girl's dream. It didn't help the butterflies in your stomach when he looked down at you with soft eyes while properly introducing himself. He then led you to the rec room of his task force where his lieutenant was sitting and brooding.

Thus began eight long months… Months of teasing glances exchanged across busy meeting rooms that made him grin and you blush. Soft touches shared either against the back of your hand when you stood side by side or across your cheek as he tucked your hair back. Eight long months of late-night talks where he would seek you out, wherever you were, with a drink of your choice in his hand and an endearing look about him as he let you jabber about how you miss baking and he told you about his parents. Eight months spent with your heart in your mouth as you watched him leave with his team, a desperate prayer for his safety on your lips as he held you against him the night before, limbs tangled together innocently yet intimately. Eight months of yearning that would only grow stronger every time he came back, his eyes finding you in a sea of military personnel and lighting you on fire each time.

And despite all this wanting, two months ago, the night before he was sent out for the longest mission yet, you overheard him with Ghost in the rec room. The box of cupcakes you smuggled into the base held tightly as the tall, rough captain unknowingly broke your heart.

"You say professional sir but everyon' sees the way you look at 'er... the little medic..." "Don't know what you're talkin' about Simon..." Price chuckles and you assume Ghost gives him a look as John continues, "Hell even if I wanted to and I am no' saying I do, I cant do anything about it can I?... she's a kid AND she's military personnel" "Then the late nights in your office are what... just meetings to go over paperwork yeah? Just a little overtime is that it?" "Come on gotta pass the time between deployments somehow" "Is that so then mind if I tell Soap–"

Thats all you had the stomach to hear, although had you stuck around you would have heard the captain confess his love. Instead you made your way to his office where you left the box of baked goods on his table and fled to your room. You spent the night muffling your tears as you came to terms with what you were to John versus what John is to you... The following morning, as you waved some of your recruits bye, your eyes met John's hurt ones, his gaze heavy with questions about where you were last night but you looked away.

Unbeknownst to John his worst worry was coming true when the two months of his deployment gave you enough time to misunderstand your importance to him. That while John was the sun to you, you were a small star in a distant galaxy that had no hope of being anything more than that... And yet you knew you would take anything he gave you, no matter how much it would hurt.

Which is why when he knocked on your room door in the middle of the night, his hair still wet from the shower he had barely managed to squeeze in, eyes tired, lost, and desperate you didn't hesitate. You didn't hesitate when his arms went around your waist drawing you into his chest, head pressed into the crook of your neck as you pressed him into you. You didn't resist or clue him on the turbulence in your head when he pulled away although barely. His hands moving from gripping the back of your shirt to your waist, grip tight as he hefted you into the air forcing your legs to wrap around his waist. Any shock on your part absorbed by his mouth as his lips found yours, your hands coming to hold his face. The kiss was desperate, it was messy. A clash of tongue and teeth as he quickly took control. You hadn't stopped to think or really breath, instead letting John fill the crevices of your mind as he carried you through the empty hallways of the barracks. Somewhere in the back of your head you wondered how no one spotted you but you were quickly distracted by his hand on your ass which kept you pressed up against him. The other on the back of your neck never letting you pulling away long enough and following your mouth as you did so. You never stopped to spill the pent up hurt that had festered unknown to the man as you whimpered into his mouth when his fingers found just the right spot, his muttered praises only getting you to your finish faster...

Your little trip down memory lane as you stuffed another shirt into your bag gave John time to get over his shock, taking a deep breath as he placed the washcloth and bottle on his nightstand. His surprise was now replaced by a desire to fix the situation.

Another aspect of being a captain was observing people, learning to read the little things about how people behaved, and now that the shock had worn off, that's what John set about doing. He watched the tension in your back gather as you stuffed your things into your bag… mementos left over from other nights that John treasured. Things that he would be pulling out of the bag as soon as he had things sorted. He watched with narrowed eyes as your face got redder, the desperation with which you were trying to hold yourself together scaring him…

Something was wrong, and he had been so consumed by his need to see you, to feel you, to know that you were alright, that he didn't stop to consider how things had been left off… To remember that you never came to his room the night before he left and that you didn't look at him at the drop zone. John realized then that whatever had upset you that night had two months to fester in your mind and that he couldn't let you leave in any capacity before everything was laid out.

He shuffled his way over to your figure as you rummaged for your ID card in your bag, needing it to get back to your room. His large hands slid into place on either side of your waist. You jolted at the sensation, registering that his hands were warm while straightening up. John didn't let your tensing stop him as he gently turned you around, his grip turning a little forceful when you tried to resist, but eventually you gave in. Your splotchy cheeks and bitten lips greeted him, and he couldn't help himself when he pressed his lips against your forehead, muttering into your skin as he did so,

"Sweetheart... whats going on?" "What do you mean John?" "I mean whats going on... whats got you packin' up your bag hmmm? Can't imagine you've got an important meetin' this time of the night have you? We also hadn't really finished had we?"

Johns doing his best to catch your eye as he talks but its futile when you keep your gaze steady on anything but his face.

"You wanted to go again?"

John balks at that response. Is that really why you think he wants you to stay? Is that really what you think of him?

"What? No no darlin' I mean you were up before I gotta chance to clean you up... I don't know about the men you've been with before sweet girl but a gentleman cleans up his lady... and of course a cuddle after..."

He pouts through the last part though you don't look up to see it. Your eyes remain trained on his muscular neck and John does his best to remain patient. He knows you, no matter how foreign your apprehension of him may feel right now. He knows you and he knows you're hurting which is why you're avoiding his eyes because the minute he gets you to see him you break,

"Oh... oh you don't have to John... I'm alright I can just go, I'm sure you're tired and want to rest and i don't want to keep you..."

John groans lowly in frustration at you not getting his point, his grip subconsciously tightening as if you would run off the minute he lets go and to his credit thats not a difficult situation to imagine,

"Fuckin' hell, okay sweetheart lets try this another way. Why do you think you have to go anywhere huh? I though' we could lay down and have a cuddle... even took the day off tomorrow to spen' it with you yeah? Want to know what you've been up to? Maybe step off the base and take you out for a proper meal?"

With each word out his mouth your confusion and hurt climb reaching a crescendo until your ears are ringing and you need to get away from this sweet talking brit before you crumble. However, Johns a stubborn man particularly when he sets his mind to something so no amount of squirming on your end makes him let you go as you begin to blabber each source of pain out in the open,

"Let me go, let me go, let me go John... You're so mean you know that? So so so mean... You come into my life all soft and sweet and gentle with me calling me pretty things that I've only imagined being called and you came in and made me care about you when I was so happy in my own bubble but still I started to care and then I find out its only for me to be something you pass time with nothing more and then you come back and I love you so much that ill take anything I can get from you even if its one night and then you have the audacity to stand there and be all sweet and caring when you and I both know that this will never be anything more and you know what maybe I am a child because this is too much–"

Your ranting is cut off by John whose own pulse has become frantic at all that you've laid out before him. You love him! Wait why do you think this is a one night thing? what do you means passing the time? One hands grips your upper arm, the other forcing your face up to look at him as your fists continue to push but to no avail,

"Whoa whoa okay look at me... look at me sweet girl... not letting you go until I ge' your eyes on me yeah? You can fight all you wan' but 'm not letting go until you get you damn eyes on me yeah? Come on... there you go good girl now what do you mean something to pass time with huh? What got that daft idea into that pretty head or that this would be a one night thing? Talk to me yeah "

John's barely finished before the words escape you in a breathless sob

“You, you stupid British man!”

Okay I was too excited to post it so here but if the reception to it is you know good ill post the second bit which is already written 👀

As always please reblog yes? yes okaieee byee

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seospicybin · 9 months ago

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TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART I

I.N x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist

Synopsis: You and Jeongin become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (12,9k words)

Author's note: Hope you like this one too. Don't forget to leave a feedback x

JEONGIN: I consider myself to be a pretty shy person. People tell me it's an extra charm I have and I learned how to use that to my advantage. My main charm? It's my smile, they work to reel the girls in [smiles] but don't worry, I have better things to show [winks]

Jeongin isn't sure that he'll do well as a contestant on a dating show.

It's definitely not about the dating part, it's the 'show' part that he's having a problem with. He doesn't consider himself as somewhat entertaining which is what someone who goes on a TV show should be.

Jeongin knows that he's reserved and quiet, unless he has something important to say, and he gets shy at times. But when it comes to his physical attributes, he doesn't have any problems with it.

He puts on his best foot forward once the staff gives the cue for him to start walking down the pier that leads to a docked boat.

It's the first time he gets to board a big, luxurious boat like this but he keeps his awe to himself knowing that a group of people have been waiting for his arrival.

Jeongin is the last contestant to get on the boat therefore he's aware of the anticipation and the expectations that he has to fill.

Even so, he's not here for that, he's here to have fun and enjoy himself.

"Oh, there he is!" Says the girl who first notices his arrival.

And also, to mingle with these attractive people he's looking at.

"Hello, what's your name?" A girl asks as she gives him a hug with a quick cheek-to-cheek.

"It's Jeongin," he answers.

"I'm Justine," she says.

Justine has blonde hair that flows down her back like a waterfall and a pair of full lips that curve into a flirty smile when he looks at her. One look and he knows that she is the type who knows how to have fun and doesn't mind getting into trouble. Not sure if Jeongin is ready to make mischief with her but he won't rule her out yet.

He quickly shifts his attention to the next girl taking her turn to hug him, she goes for both cheeks and then hands him a glass of bubbly wine.

"You're tall," she beams with a smile.

Jeongin never takes pride in his height but he can't deny that he likes being called tall.

"Thank you," he mutters.

"I'm Linda," she says.

On the contrary, Linda offers a different charm. She is a brunette with a cute smile and a thick British accent, she's looking at him with these big round, eyes and a smile that doesn't wear off her face.

However, the twin mounds on her chest catch his attention and well, he's a man after all so he glances at it just to satisfy his need.

"You have really beautiful eyes," Jeongin compliments her eyes even though he has just looked at her breasts.

"Oh, thank you," Linda says.

Jeongin continues by introducing himself to more girls. There's Francoise, another blondie with gorgeous light blue eyes, Bianca with her long legs and glowing golden skin, and then there's Courtney, who looks like she just stepped out of a swimsuit photo shoot.

"I like your smile and the dimples," Courtney says, her teeth fainty biting her lower lip as she stares at him.

It's only been a few minutes but Jeongin thanks his old self for agreeing to join this show. Never in a million years, did he imagine himself going on a yacht trip with a group of attractive people for the summer.

JEONGIN: I'm loving it here. I'm ready to rock the boat! [Grins]

Instead of being jealous, Jeongin admires his fellow male contestants for having greater bodies than him.

Especially Keith, he's big and tall, his muscles are toned and his tan skin makes his abs more defined. He must've spent countless hours in the gym to get that body and Jeongin admires him more for that.

"You're ripped," Jeongin mutters in awe at him.

Keith lets out a chuckle and brushes his wavy, brown hair to the back, "Thanks, man."

It's almost empty anyway so Jeongin decides to drain the wine straight from the bottle and he notices that everyone's head is turned. He follows to where everyone is looking then he sees a man standing on the upper deck of the boat who he assumes is the host of the show.

"Ahoy!" He greets.

Everyone is replying with various answers but Jeongin can't respond verbally when his mouth is full of wine, so he claps his hands instead.

"Welcome to my dating show, Love Overboard and I'll be your captain," He introduces himself.

Everyone is cheering and Jeongin hurriedly swallows his drink so he can also show his excitement.

"You're all about to head out on the vacation of a lifetime, and hopefully find love along the way," the captain continues.

Not sure about love but everyone is eager and frisky for this, and Jeongin is no exception. He wonders how the show is going to be because he's already having so much fun and it's only the beginning.

The captain continues with his announcement, "Tonight will be your first beach party of many, and at each party, we'll be picking up a new, sexy single."

There'll be more people joining on board? Jeongin isn't sure about finding love but hearing that, he instantly changes his mind. Maybe it is possible to find love along the way.

"However, there's a catch. There are only five double beds on board so if you don't want to sleep alone, you better pick your shipmate," the captain finishes his speech with a tricky task.

And just like that, the boat starts to sail the sea and everyone is having a round of toast to mark this moment.

"We're going to have so much fun!" Bianca says as she clinks her glass with Jeongin's empty wine bottle.

"Unless I get seasick then yeah, we're going to have fun," He jokingly says.

"I hope not," she says with a crisp laugh.

JEONGIN: There are already so many hot people on board. I don't think I can take anymore [laughs]

The males somehow gathered at the top deck, having another bottle of champagne pop open and a toast. Then the talk begins, well, you guessed it, it's about the girls.

Or in Kurt's words, the birds.

"Tell me about the birds!" He says, asking everyone for, what Jeongin assumes, girls they fancy.

Keith leans back on the sofa and brushes his brown locks, being the first to share his choice, "It's Francoise for me, she's on the top of the list," he says.

"She's fit, yeah," Mick comments, then sips his wine.

With the strong winds, Kurt decides to tie his dirty blonde hair into a low man bun, "I'm going to put myself on a race with you then," he says to Keith with a mischievous smile on his face.

"I always go for blondes so it's also Francoise for me," he remarks.

Jeongin smells competition between the two and he can't decide who to root for, they're both well-built and good-looking.

"How about you, Damon?" Kurt asks.

"I want to have some fun so for now, I want to keep my options open," Damon coyly answers, his braided curls also swinging with every gust of wind.

Jeongin sips his wine as he intently listens to the conversation going on and he almost chokes on it when Kurt slaps his knee with his big hand.

"Jeongin, my man, how about you?" He asks.

He allows himself to swallow his drink first and decides to give everyone the safe answer, "Uhm... same with Damon."

Not going to lie, Jeongin gets a little tipsy from chugging the champagne bottle earlier so it's wise that he stops drinking. He puts his drink away and focuses on giving everyone a proper answer.

"They're all beautiful but I don't want to be haste and put all the eggs in one basket," he honestly answers.

Kurt and Mick are nodding to his answer while the rest are not saying anything but seem to agree with him as well.

Jeongin glances down at the lower deck to where the girls are gathered and indeed, they're all beautiful. The girls are all beautiful in their own way and have their own distinct charms so he can't tell who he fancies the most only from their looks.

JEONGIN: It's hard having to try and choose between five girls right now so I'm not going on a chase yet, I'd rather see who approaches me.

The sea is so blue, so vast that it goes as far as his eyes can see.

Jeongin enjoys the view from the front of the boat with the wind blowing his shirt away and sending his dark hair flying, making it a mess that he has to brush it to the back.

He's not aware that someone is there until he's standing next to him.

"Hi," the girl says.

With the surface of the water reflecting the sunlight at him, he has to squint his eyes to see who it is. It's the brunette girl with hazel eyes, Linda.

"Oh, hi," he greets back.

"How are you?" She asks while holding all of her hair on one shoulder.

"Good. How are you?" Jeongin asks back, liking the shape of her body which is lean yet toned in the right places.

"Better now," she answers with a bright smile.

Linda then looks out at the view and inhales the salty air, then lets out a delightful sigh.

"Beautiful isn't it?" She says.

"Yeah," Jeongin also sighs as he takes in the picturesque view.

Then Linda turns her body to the side facing him with a smile that slightly turns into a flirty one, "Then how about me?"

It takes no genius that she's fishing a compliment out of him so he gives it to her, "I think you're beautiful."

Linda's smile grows wider on her small face, she brings her hand close to her mouth and tugs a finger between her teeth, looking at him with wild glints in her eyes.

After a moment, she speaks again, "I feel like we've got a vibe going on, yeah?"

It's only been a moment so Jeongin can't decide if he should agree with what she said but to be polite, he lightly nods at that.

"What is your type?" She asks.

Whenever someone asks him that, he gets confused. He does have a few things he's looking for in someone but it's always changing from time to time.

"I don't have too much of a type," Jeongin answers.

"Okay, so anything that breathes, huh?" Linda jokingly says with a low laugh.

"In that case, I ticked it off the box," she jokes again.

Jeongin laughs along with her. He has to admit that she does have a sense of humor, not too much, just perfect.

She leans in closer and lowers his voice, "I've got a secret," she mutters.

That gets him intrigued and somehow, he follows suit and lowers his voice as he asks, "Yeah? What's that?"

"You're probably my number one to share a bed with tonight," she says, putting shyness into her flirty smile and it somehow works on her.

She bites on her finger again and sheepishly asks, "What do you think?"

"Sharing a bed with you would be nice," he sweetly says.

"You want to share a bed with me?" Linda asks with her eyes wide and hopeful, telling him to say yes.

It was only a moment ago that Jeongin decided not to choose anyone yet but Linda makes him falter a little that he has to remind himself about his initial plan.

"Let's see," Jeongin settles on a vague answer.

Not hard to tell that Linda doesn't like the answer Jeongin gave from the way her eyes dim even though her smile remains wide and bright.

The sound of the water splashing shatters the silence and Jeongin looks to the side of the boat to see that Kurt has just jumped into the sea for a swim.

"I think I'll join them," Linda says while fixing the straps of her bikini.

She walks away to go to the back of the boat and stops after a few steps to look over her shoulder to ask Jeongin, "Are you coming?"

"I'll catch up later," he says.

JEONGIN: Linda is flirty and sweet. We had a good chat, there's a potential there but I want to see how this unfolds.

Instead of swimming in the sea, Jeongin goes to the upper deck and gets into the jacuzzi that has been set to keep the water warm at all times.

The rose petals are bubbling along with the water as he leans back and enjoys the pleasant afternoon. It hasn't sunk in yet that he'll probably be having these kinds of days for the next three weeks.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Someone asks.

Jeongin snaps his head in the direction of the voice and finds Justine there. Girls are coming to him one by one, he should consider this his lucky day.

"Not at all," he responds.

Justine ties her long blonde hair into a messy ponytail before slowly getting herself into the tub and sitting next to him, sending the water level rising but not enough to slosh out of the tub.

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and smiles at him, "You know as soon as I saw you coming, I just know that you're the one I'd go for," she says.

Justine doesn't even bother to small talk first and Jeongin likes the directness in that since he's a very straightforward person.

"I get that feeling that we're going to match well," she adds.

Jeongin doesn't know how to answer that. A part of him wants to entertain that idea but another part of him doesn't want to give her false hope so he ends up responding with a smile.

"I like that you're a bit shy," she says with a giggle.

And that sends Jeongin's hand touching his ear, a habit he does whenever he gets shy.

Justine plays with the petals by scooping them in her hand, "Do you like blondes?"

"Not really, actually," Jeongin says, again, he's a very straightforward person.

Thankfully, Justine takes it well and uses it to her advantage, "Well, you're to love blondes after this."

Justine knows how attractive she is and how to use it as a weapon, every little thing she does is indeed attractive.

But Jeongin firmly stands his ground, "You're going to have to persuade me," he says with a half smirk.

Justine licks her lips and brightly smiles, "It's not much persuading, really."

Her boldness amuses him so much that Jeongin cracks a sonorous laugh.

JEONGIN: Justine is oozing with confidence and I dig that.

The ripples on the water tell Jeongin that Justine may have subtly moved closer and he's right, he finds her sitting close next to him in the tub.

Once the laughs die down, Justine tilts her head to the side and seductively asks, "Okay, maybe I can persuade you a little bit," she mutters.

He knows what would happen if he turns his head to the side but something in him tells him to do it and his intrusive thought always wins.

The moment he turns his head, Justine grabs his chin to hold him still so she can pleasantly leans in for a kiss. Once she captures his lips, she moves her hand to the nape of his neck as she keeps kissing him.

Jeongin needs a second to calibrate himself into the kiss as Justine keeps his tongue busy by twirling it with hers. He places his hand on her neck and that way, he can angle her head as he pleases and deepen the kiss.

There's nothing but the smooching sound and the sound of the water bubbling in the tub. For a moment, Jeongin lets himself immersed in the kiss then slowly pulls away after sensing that Justine is running out of breath.

As expected, Justine gasps for air the moment he lets go. She's letting out a chuckle and he guesses it's out of triumph.

"Was it a good persuading?" She asks

"Not bad, yeah," Jeongin plays it cool when it's in fact, a really good kiss and he has to look away to resist the urge to go for another.

Justine wades the water around her with her hand, "So what's the bed situation for tonight?"

It seems like he comes close to a decision but he wants to keep it for later because who knows? Maybe someone else will come his way and change his mind.

"Tonight, you'll know," he tells her.

"I think I know the answer already," she says with a triumphant smile.

JEONGIN: Somehow I pulled off getting two out of five girls to want to sleep on my bed and deciding on one is hard [chuckles] but there's no harm in that, right? [Raises eyebrow]

It's going to be the first party tonight.

If there's one thing that Jeongin takes seriously, it's his fashion. He doesn't just put on something together, he's dressed to impress.

It's not even about the fact that there'll be a new single tonight but that's just how he is. He likes building an outfit and puts so much effort into doing it.

He chooses dark jeans and a printed shirt as the top, he has his hair pushed to the back and leaves a few strands falling over his forehead. Not forgetting to decorate his hands with metal rings that flatter his skin tone and highlight his long fingers.

And now, he's ready to step into the night.

The captain leads the group down a path right after the boat docked not far away, carrying a torch as a source of light. He takes us to a backyard of what looks like a villa but it's too dark to know for sure.

"I promised you the holiday of a lifetime so welcome to your first beach party!" The captain says as he takes the steps as his center stage.

Everyone is looking their best and excitedly cheering in response to him.

"Let's get it started!" The captain shouts, pointing to the beach where the fireworks go off and light up the sky.

The next thing he knows, everyone is partying. The music is blasting, there are fire dancers, and drinks are being passed around and constantly refilled.

Everyone is having fun and getting frisky while at it, especially for Damon and Bianca who share a passionate kiss in between dances.

The captain takes center stage once again and he guesses it's time for the new single revelation.

"Great party, right?" He asks with a wide grin on his bearded face.

Everyone is replying with various answers but they all agree that it is a great party and it's just one of many.

"What do you say we make it even better?" The captain asks.

"Yes!" Courtney enthusiastically shouts from next to him.

"This is going to blow your mind. It's time to introduce you to a new, hot sexy single!"

The captain slowly retreats from where he stands as the place goes dark and Jeongin only notices it now that the dancers are already leaving.

It suddenly turns dark and a spotlight appears on a curtain, heightening everyone's anticipation to see the new single entering the show.

When the curtain finally drops, there's no one there but a cone on top of a small table.

"No!!!" Courtney aggressively shouts out of spite.

"No! I came here for dick!" Bianca screams, almost hysterical with both hands holding the sides of her head.

The party turns into a frenzy while Jeongin is scratching his head, and doesn't understand why everyone starts breaking down over what looks like an air freshener to him.

JEONGIN: The new, sexy hot single is a cone. A cone?!

"Hello, everyone."

It's when the cone starts talking that Jeongin knows it's not an air freshener but he's still confused why everyone is groaning in complaint.

"I am Lana. Love Overboard has hit the rocks and you're now washed up on Too Hot To Handle."

Jeongin is still oblivious to the fact that the show has changed to what he believes is still a dating show only that it has changed its name.

"I didn't sign up for this," Kurt cries, fisting his hair in distress.

Then Jeongin sees that Damon has dropped to his knees, crying. He taps on his shoulder to check, "Are you crying?"

But Damon is too bust pulling at his hair to even answer his question.

"You all have been selected because meaningless flings mean more to you than genuine relationships," the cone continues talking.

"The fuck?" Mick curses, offended.

Francoise clicks her tongue and coyly shrugs, "Who cares about emotional relationships?"

"Since your arrival, I have been gathering data on your behavior."

Justine snorts and flips her hair, "I hope you like what you saw, Lana!"

Jeongin hopes everyone else quiets down so he can hear the rest of what the cone has to say so he knows how to properly react to it.

"But from now on, you must adhere to my retreat rules."

So it's not a dating show? It's a retreat? And there are rules? Jeongin doesn't remember them saying something about it when he signed the contract.

"No kissing."

"What's going on?" Bianca meekly says, rubbing her temple erratically.

"No self-gratification."

"What's that?" Jeongin asks with a perplexed look on his face.

Keith who happens to standing nearby answers the question for him "No rubbing one out, mate," he says along with a hand gesture for a visual aid.

"That's lowkey sick," Jeongin blurts out.

Not allowed to touch his own body part? What kind of rules is that?

"That's not even funny," Kurt comments with an exasperated sigh.

But everyone hasn't heard the worst of it all.

"And no sex of any kind," Lana delivers the last rule they have to follow in the retreat.

"Is that even healthy?" Kurt comments again, completely flabbergasted.

JEONGIN: Can we... unplug her or something?

Jeongin gets it now why everyone is simultaneously going on a mental breakdown.

This summer isn't what he expected it to be, one where he imagined he would meet and mingle with attractive people and you know, get lucky.

Then the cone comes and shatters his dreams with those rules. Now he's going into a meltdown on his own.

"As a reward for the progress you make, I have allocated a prize of $200,000," Lana announces.

Everyone else is happily exclaiming at the announcement of the sum of money they would win out of this show.

"Two hundred racks, bro!" Damon grins and his tears seem to have magically dried at the mention of money.

"That's a lot of money," Kurt comments, also reacting differently once he hears of the prize money.

On the other hand, the information isn't enough to console him. He is still reeling from the harsh reality that this is not the summer that he dreamed of.

"Welcome to my retreat and Welcome to your long, hard, sexless summer!" Lana finishes.

JEONGIN: The money is tempting but breaking rules is so fun, you know [smirks]

As everyone is doing a tour around the villa, Jeongin couldn’t help but think that it’s unfair for Lana to gather a group of hot singles, and make everyone live together in a gorgeous villa only to be told that they can’t do sexual things.

The swimming pool, the hot tub, the firepit… All these cool places and he is not allowed to kiss anyone anywhere. This is so fucking unfair. He should have followed the captain and boarded the boat to get him home.

However, the captain is right about one thing though. There are only five beds in the bedroom and there are ten people, so everyone needs to find a bedmate.

Jeongin randomly chooses a bed and dives right onto it, feeling how bouncy and comfortable it is as he lies on it. These fucking beds and no one is allowed to fuck on it, so fucking- Fuck!

He completely forgot about the bed situation and that he has not yet decided on who he wants to share the bed with which explains why Linda keeps glancing his way from the bed across his. He then slowly turns his head to find the blonde-haired girl and as expected, Justine is uneasily looking his way too.

Jeongin puts his hands behind his head and starts thinking. He can usually solve it by keeping both girls happy but he can’t do that here, right? He has to decide on one.

JEONGIN: I have to pick one out of two great girls. What am I going to do?

Justine and Linda, they’re both physically appealing to him so it has to come down to who will get along well with him.

Jeongin is touching his ear as he recalls the interactions he had with those two girls to help him decide. Linda has a good chat and a sense of humor, she’s someone he can have night talks with. On the other hand, Justine is fun and confident, she’s someone who won’t mind doing mischief with him or worse, leads him to temptations.

In conclusion, Linda is the safest choice for him, not that he doesn’t want to rule break with her but she’s the type that avoids rule-breaking instead of encouraging it.

But does Jeongin want to play safe? Like… what’s the fun in that? Jeongin thinks that he has come to a verdict.

“Hey, Justine,” he calls for her.

Justine seems to have expected him to call her name and looks over her shoulder to look at him, “Yes?”

“What are you doing there?” he asks her.

He then pats the space next to him on the bed and says, “Your bed is here.”

“Okay,” Justine triumphantly smiles, not wasting time to get on his bed, and crawls over to sit next to him.

Jeongin secretly peers over to Linda who’s looking rather disappointed that he didn’t choose her. In all honesty, he has his reasons for choosing Justine but he believes Linda wouldn’t want to hear it.

“I think she’s upset,” Jeongin lowly mutters at Justine.

Justine looks around the room to see who he talked about, “Who?”

He covers his mouth so no one can read his lips as he says, “Linda.”

Justine doesn’t look right away but when she finally does, she nods in agreement.

In another part of the room, the battle for Francoise has been won by Kurt as she chose him as her bedmate and Keith has to share the bed with Linda. Everyone might as well call it the bed of the defeated.

JEONGIN: I mean, I don’t mind taking Linda in my bed too if she is keen to join us [Chuckles]

Jeongin is still forcing his eyes to open when the cone lights up and chimes in the middle of the room.

"Good morning, everyone."

"Morning, Lana," Justine croaks from next to him, clutching the duvet to her chest.

Everyone else is still as sleepy with their bare faces and eyes heavy with sleep. Definitely, not in the mood to hear Lana as as the first thing to hear after they wake up.

"The goal of my retreat is to teach you how to form deep and meaningful relationships. To do that, you have to be able to put the needs of others before your own. Especially when you are horny."

Okay, Jeongin gets it. Breaking the rules means that not only does he lose money but also means, he chooses to act selfishly on the group.

"Good luck," Lana concludes her morning greeting.

Well, last night was overwhelming and Jeongin was too tired to even do anything. He fell asleep almost immediately as Justine snuggled up to him.

"Respectfully, I hate that fucking cone, bro," Kurt states from the bed at the other end of the room.

Mick drinks from his water tumbler, then observes everyone with his piercing, brown eyes.

"Got a question though," he says, putting away his tumbler on the bedside table, "Did anyone break a rule?"

It seems like Mick has just voluntarily become the chief and making sure everyone is adhering to the retreat rules.

He takes a look around the room and sees everyone's faces one by one. He puts more suspicion on couples who are a little more established.

"Kurt?" Mick asks.

Kurt shrugs his question away and Francoise confirms it with a verbal answer, "Nah."

Mick shifts his suspicion onto the next person, "Jeongin?

Jeongin calmly brushes his hair to the back, "I literally fell asleep when Justine and I were still talking," he shares.

Justine is nodding next to him because she knows that it's true, "Last night with Lana... that was intense," she adds.

Mick moves to the next on his suspicion list, eyeing the bed across from him which is Damon and Bianca's bed.

"Damon?"

"Nothing," Bianca speaks for both of them.

Jeongin wouldn't believe these people right away and he knows a lying face when he sees one. One or two of these people are lying to the group but he won't play the saint as well.

It's still early to tell that he won't stumble and break any rules.

JEONGIN: I share a bed with Justine and there’s a sexual tension there but honestly, it’s just too early to be hated by a group of people [chuckles]

The boys are already cooling down when Jeongin gets to the beach to work out.

Kurt is lying down with his beads of sweat glistening under the pale morning sun while Keith is still doing some lifting and then there's Mick who sits on the mat, brushing his damp hair to the back.

"You guys are already done?" Jeongin asks as he starts stretching his body.

"Uh-huh," Kurt answers while panting.

Mick wipes his sweaty face and turns to sit facing everyone, "I really want us to listen to what Lana is saying. Does anybody else agree? Or am I alone on this?" He suddenly asks a critical question.

Without looking at him, Kurt talks with his eyes closed and hands folded on his abdomen, "I just don’t see how you can make a connection without physical touches. That’s impossible."

"You can cuddle," Keith says in between his grunts of labor.

"Oh yeah, but sometimes that’s not enough," Kurt hits back then peers over at Keith.

Jeongin thinks that Keith is secretly not wanting anything to happen between Kurt and Francoise but Kurt is quick enough to see his intention.

"What’s the longest you went without having sex or you know, getting off?" Mick casually asks like he didn't just ask when is the last time anyone rubs one out.

Kurt purses his lips as he thinks, "Uhm... Like a week?"

Mick surely doesn't expect to hear that answer and Jeongin personally could do a month without a release, especially with money at stake.

But there are hot girls in the equation here and that's what makes it hard to solve.

"If you think about it, you can connect with someone without sex," Mick says.

Instead of giving Mick's wisdom words seep in, Kurt immediately shoots it down with his pessimism.

"I don’t know, man."

Keith puts down his dumbbells and wipes the sweat on his forehead with his t-shirt, "It’s a great idea but uh…" he seems to doubt Mick's words as well.

Jeongin steps in to be the one accepting Mick's words even though he also doubts that's how it works.

"We’ll see where this goes," he says with a pat on Mick's shoulder.

JEONGIN: Justine and I have got a bit of a naughty vibe going on. I'm afraid it's just a matter of time before we break the rules.

Justine notices that Jeongin has just showered when he enters the dressing room.

She's done doing her makeup and offers to dry his hair for him. Jeongin doesn't see any harm in that so he sits on her chair and lets her do it.

"I'm a makeup artist, I'm good at this," she convinces for the last time, then turns on the hair dryer.

The constant humming of the hairdryer fills the space and while Justine is doing what she does best, Jeongin observes the makeup tools scattered on the vanity right in front of him.

He picks them up one by one and guesses what their use is, when in doubt, he shows it to Justine and asks, "It's an eyelash curler, isn't it?"

Justine looks at him through the rectangular mirror, "Yes."

He continues his exploration through Justine's makeup pouch and takes out the one that interests him. He opens a tube but instead of a cap, he finds a wand with a spoolie at the end of it.

"Is it for eyelashes? Mascara, isn't it?"

Justine turns off the hairdryer and uses a hairbrush next, "No, that's for the eyebrows."

He notices the difference between the two, the one for the eyebrows has a smaller spoolie.

Done brushing his hair, Justine gives the back of his head a quick ruffle to add volume. She then takes a moment to appreciate her work.

"You have soft, fine hair," she compliments.

When she looks at him, she notices that Jeongin is very much intrigued by her makeup. She lightly chuckles and takes it from him.

"This is how you use it," she says, demonstrating how to use it.

To get a closer look, Justine slightly bends down as she applies something to his eyebrows while Jeongin can only watch through the mirror.

"It needs a trim," she mutters as she moves to the other eyebrow.

Justine then jams the wand back into the tube and looks at him to check on his work. She wipes the excess with his thumb.

"Hey, hey, hey!

Mick's jarring voice startles Justine so that she accidentally pokes Jeongin's under eyes with her long nails.

"What are you guys doing?"

Justine sucks air through her teeth and spins around on her feet, "We're doing nothing," she innocently answers.

Mick stands at the end of the long vanity table and props his hands on it, "This is my money you're playing with," he says, already taking ownership of the prize money.

"I promise you, we were just talking," Jeongin assures him while checking himself in the mirror for what Justine did to his eyebrows and he likes it.

Mick purses his lips in doubt and drops his head to the side, "I want to know if I can trust you," he says.

Justine grabs his hand and takes it for a handshake, "You can trust us," she says.

"Okay," Mick says as he shakes her hand, signifying that he chooses to trust her.

That seems to work to convince him but not enough to keep his laser eyes away from both of you.

"I'm watching y'all," he says as he walks backward to the doorway.

After Mick left, Justine plops onto the chair next to his and picks up a hairbrush to comb her hair with.

"We shook on it but I was like... fuck it," she says with a giggle.

She is what he expects her to be, a girl who thinks that the rules are meant to be broken and it's low-key hot, but also a bit threatening. Jeongin is not ready for the repercussions.

"If we break the rules, we would have the whole team against us," he says, reminding Justine that everyone is going to be pissed about it.

She abruptly stops combining her hair as if she just came to her senses. She then looks at him and cracks a smile, "You’re the good one out of the two of us," she says.

And Jeongin e can't tell if she means it in a good way or a bad way.

JEONGIN: If it were up to Justine, we would break rules already but I don’t want to be the first.

Before the dressing room gets crowded with everyone getting ready for the night, Jeongin hurriedly goes to the bedroom once he's done dressing up.

Damon is also there, lying on his bed and drinking wine. To pass the time, Jeongin casually chats with him, and in the midst of it, the cone chimes.

Jeongin's head snaps toward the source of the sound, "Damon and Jeongin," Lana calls their names.

Jeongin presses his lips together into a thin line and exchanges a panic glance with Damon.

"Yes, Lana?" Damon asks with his wine glass hanging mid-air.

"Can you please gather everyone in the cabana?" Lana requests.

Jeongin gets up from his bed without saying anything and goes straight to the dressing room to tell everyone. From the sheer shock on their faces, he senses that someone has messed up.

"Anyone have any ideas why we’re here?" Mick says, putting on his detective hat the first thing everyone settles on their seats.

"Could be Lana going to throw another party for us?" Linda wildly guesses with an innocent look on her face.

Mick doesn't take that answer and squints his small eyes as he asks the important question, "Did someone break the rules?"

The silence that passes answers his question and he sighs, disappointed that the group chooses to hide their lies instead of owning up to it immediately.

"Let’s just hear what Lana says," Keith says.

Keith's words summon her, the cone chimes not long after, and instead of her usual greeting, she goes straight into the business.

"This morning I asked you all to start putting the needs of the group ahead of your own. It seems that my request fell on deaf ears."

Even though she talks in the same robotic voice, everyone knows that she's upset that someone is indeed fucked up.

"Oh, shit! She’s pissed," Kurt says, making it clear to everyone.

Mick gets serious this time, clasping his hands together and dropping them between his legs, he asks again, "Did anyone break the rules?"

The silence answers his question again and he lets out a heavy sigh, not accepting the fact that they choose to remain silent when Lana clearly said that someone has broken the rules.

JEONGIN: Everyone is just lying at each other’s faces [shakes head]

"Jeongn and Justine?" Mick glares at him.

Jeongin can calmly deny his allegation and say, "No."

"You sure? A hundred percent?" Mick asks again.

Justine nods at him and answers it for him, "You can move on and ask someone else."

Mick goes to the next person who sits on the smaller sofa on the side of the room, "Francoise and Kurt?"

They remain quiet and then Francoise starts to scratch her neck, silently gulping air and constantly avoiding everyone's eyes. Everything she does gives away the answer.

"This is the time to fess up," Mick says, either trying to press on them or encourage them.

"We uh... we..." Kurt is blabbering, he's looking anywhere but not the people he's talking to.

"I'm going to be honest, we did a little kiss," Francoise calmly says.

Both Mick and Keith drop their heads onto their hands but it's for two different reasons. Mick is obviously devastated about the money while Keith is well, he just lost another battle against Kurt.

"I needed a goodnight kiss then we fell asleep after so..." she explains.

"Yeah, right," Keith lowly mutters out of spite.

"And I'm going to have to be honest again," Francoise is not finished with her confession yet.

"Oh... fuck!" Linda breathlessly gasps with her hand rubbing her temple.

"We also had another kiss down the beach," Francoise admits another sin.

Everyone is exclaiming, not expecting that this posh girl who always looks calm and collected is breaking rules left and right.

"You had two kisses and it's only day one?" Justine says but instead of sounding like she's scolding her, Jeongin catches a hint of jealousy in her voice.

Mick is left speechless that he can only turn his head side to side like he's watching a tennis match but in this case, Francoise and Kurt are playing with his money instead of a tennis ball.

"Francoise and Kurt, under normal circumstances, each kiss would cost $3,000. Unfortunately, these are not normal circumstances," Lana announces another bad news.

Mick's eyes widen in horror at the mention of how much money they could have lost and it's going to cost a lot more worse than that.

"Earlier today when I asked you all to put the needs of the group before your own, I implemented a covert test."

Linda dramatically gasps, then immediately shut her mouth with her hands.

"Unfortunately, you have failed this test. Furthermore, all fines have been doubled."

"Unbelievable..." Mick sighs into his hands.

It's bad news after bad news and Jeongin should be relieved that he's not a part of the cause but it doesn't make him feel better either.

"Any rules that have been broken since arriving at my retreat will now cost the group twice as much," Lana furtherly informs.

"Wow!" Jeongin's eyes widen in surprise.

"That’s a big chunk of money," Linda innocently comments.

"Francoise and Kurt, your two rule breaks have cost the group $12,000."

Lana drops another bad news right away, not giving everyone a moment to recover from the previous ones.

JEONGIN: It's just... brutal [sighs]

"Regrettably, the other couple has been more selfish," Lana spoils that there's another rule breaks no one knows of.

This has been overwhelming for everyone and Linda may have run out of patience with anyone who keeps quiet about their rule breaks.

"If you have any respect, you'll be honest with us," she says, a little upset that she gets to suffer from someone else's actions.

"Can anyone please tell the truth!" Mick desperately begs, having no other way how to get anyone to admit to their wrongdoings.

"It's us," Damon finally comes forward, "we kissed in the firepit earlier."

Mick has nothing else to say but to hear how much money has been lost to another reckless behavior.

"Your rule break has cost the group a further $6,000," Lana informs.

Jeongin calculates it roughly in his head and if everyone keeps this reckless behavior for the next three weeks, nothing will be left in the pot.

"We’re going to be broke," he mutters to Keith who sits next to him.

"The prize fund now stands at $182,000," Lana updates.

JEONGIN: Now, I'm so glad that I wasn't the first to break the rules.

Mick can't hide his disappointment even when it's bedtime. He gets on the bed and tucks himself in, he keeps his head turned away from everyone.

"Oh, I’m so mad," he says, not holding back in letting everyone know that.

Justine cringes in horror at Jeongin while everyone else stays quiet the whole night, unlike the previous night when everyone loudly chatted to each other until the lights turned out.

It's like the temperature in the room drops a few degrees after that reveal in the cabana and drops a few more when the lights are off.

But that is when Jeongin feels most alarmed because things could happen in the dark.

Justine's hand slides across his chest and then she rests it on his shoulder where he can feel the tip of her sharp nails on his skin.

"Your skin is so soft," she compliments with a smile that could be heard as she rests her head close to his.

"So is yours," he compliments back.

Based on profession, there's no doubt Justine knows how to take care of her body well. Her skin is smooth, her hair is soft and she always smells good. There's no denying that she is beautiful and she could easily tempt him when she wants to.

As his thoughts are busy wandering, Justine places her hand on his jaw and starts caressing his cheek. It's the way that her fingers inching closer to his lips that makes his heart rate elevates.

"Don't you think that we'll eventually rule break?" She asks out of the blue.

Jeongin has the same thought as well but after what happened tonight and how everyone reacted to rule breaks, he has second thoughts about committing one.

"Yeah, but I think now is not the right time," he simply refuses.

"Fair enough," she says.

A moment later, Justine's face is hovering inches away above him. She stares right into his eyes long enough that Jeongin can see the naughty intent behind her eyes.

She then leans in and Jeongin has his hands ready to push her away when he needs to. But Justine goes for his cheek and places a soft kiss on it.

"Goodnight," she mutters once she pulls away then lays back on her side of the bed.

JEONGIN: Why am I here? How the fuck I ended up in Too Hot To Handle? [clicks tongue]

A couple of days have passed uneventfully.

Everyone is still reeling from the fines that have been doubled thus making them more cautious around each other.

Jeongin thinks that it's only a matter of time before someone breaks the rules again.

You can take the player out of a game but you can't take the game out of a player, that's just how it is.

For Jeongin personally, he doesn't have any problems following the rules, except when Justine starts doing something. However, she has been behaving well and maybe she's doing her own thing but he doesn't want to look too much into it.

There's someone else that has been giving him the eyes lately. After Jeongin chose Justine over her, he thought that Linda had already gotten over him but apparently, she's not.

He reckons it's probably because he hasn't broken the rules with Justine yet and that makes Linda think she still has another chance with him.

That's not entirely wrong though, Jeongin isn't going to close on a chance of getting to know someone else.

"Hi. You okay?" Linda asks, appearing from inside the villa and joining him on the terrace.

"I'm okay," he answers, brushing his damp hair from showering, "you?"

Linda sits on the wooden chair next to his and puts her legs up with her body facing him, "I think I'm good."

Jeongin smiles hearing her cute giggle at the end of her answer, she offers different charms than the other girls here.

"I like your dimples," she says, tugging her finger between her teeth again.

"Thank you," Jeongin mutters his gratitude with a smile.

Linda holds his gaze and says, "It's one of the many things I like about you."

Jeongin's hand flies to his ear, touching it as he leans back on his chair and tries not to look into Linda's eyes because they're rather dangerous.

"What was it?" She asks, dangling her legs on the armrest of the chair.

"What did you say the uhm... your favorite feature on me?"

Jeongin has to rake his brain to remember that day, he remembers looking at Linda's breasts when he said a totally different thing.

"Your eyes," he finally answers with a sheer doubt.

"People normally say it's my boobs," Linda says with a crisp laugh.

Now that she said it, Jeongin's eyes automatically flick down at her cleavage and quickly look away.

"They're alright," he coyly says, trying to remain calm even though he knows Linda caught him looking at it.

"You haven't looked, have you?" She jokingly says, putting all of her hair to the back.

"Nah, it's the first time I looked," he jokes back.

Without looking, Jeongin knows that he's profusely blushing and his ears are reddening, his hand comes to the rescue, rubbing it to give him a sense of ease

On the other hand, Linda is enjoying every second of it.

"About you and Justine," she carefully says.

"Are you guys like in a thing or...?"

Linda's eyes are small and warm brown, however, the way she looks at him is piercing like daggers. Jeongin knows that the conversation will eventually get to this.

"We're still getting to know each other but we're also doing our own thing... I'm not stopping her from getting to know anyone," Jeongin answers.

"But do you think it has the potential to be a relationship or more like... friendship-ish type of thing to you?" She asks, biting her finger again.

"Well, uhm..." Jeongin has no answer to that yet, he's been grasping things around Justine and is not sure what he wants to do with it yet.

"I don't know, honestly. I just don't want to rule out any possibilities yet," he adds.

Linda nods and bites her lower lip, "Have you ever thought that you have more potential with someone else?"

"Could be," he coyly says.

She props a hand under her chin and looks at him with a soft gaze, "How about with me?"

Jeongin cracks a smile, not expecting Linda will be this bold. Somehow, he likes this use of subtle aggressiveness.

"We'll see..." Jeongin keeps his cool and stares back into her eyes as he says it.

"Well, you'll see," Linda says.

JEONGIN: Linda, Linda, Linda... she's being all cute and flirty, trying to make my head turn.

Linda's game doesn't just end there.

In the dressing room while everyone is getting ready for the night, she puts on a dress and checks herself in the mirror, then all of a sudden turns to him and asks.

"How do I look?"

Jeongin has to check for the people around him, thinking that she is talking to someone else.

"Uh... good," he shortly answers.

"Just good?" Linda asks again.

She's so bold for doing it in front of everyone. Worse is Justine is in the room too and Jeongin keeps actively telling his brain not to look her way.

Linda takes a step closer toward him and spins around on her feet, "Do you like the dress or should I put on a different one?"

The whole room suddenly turns quiet when it is full of chatter a while ago and he feels pressured with all the attention he's getting.

"No, I like this one. It looks good on you," Jeongin says, wanting to end this exchange.

"I trust you," Linda says, walking back to the mirror to fix her hair.

Jeongin continues buttoning his shirt facing his closet to avoid everyone's eyes.

That little stunt Linda pulled in the dressing room seems to make Justine need to mark her territory. She brings him a drink and corners him on the sofa in the cabana.

"I like this shirt on you," she says, softening him with a compliment.

"Thanks," Jeongin sheepishly says, sensing that she's going to ask about him and Linda.

"How are you feeling tonight?" She asks, then sips her drink.

"I'm feeling good," he answers but that would imply that he talked about the thing that happened with Linda.

"I guess," he quickly adds, then gulps his wine.

He swallows it quickly, not wanting to give Justine a chance to talk about it, "You?"

Justine smiles and taps her glass of wine with her long nails, "I feel good. I feel like kissing someone tonight," she says with a sonorous laugh.

Oh, fuck.

Remember when he said it's only about time that he and Justine break a rule? Well, this is it.

She inches closer to him and puts her leg over his lap, "I know we both want to explore things here..."

She props her hand against the sofa and tilts her head to the side as she looks at him, letting a moment pass in silence to build tension.

"But if there's one person I want to break rules with..."

Justine drags her nails down his arm, sending a shudder down his spine then leans in to whisper, "It's with you,"

Deep down, he knows the bad in him wants to come out and play.

"What do you think?" Her voice drops lower than before.

All sorts of thoughts fill his head and most of them are going against him. It costs $6,000. Lana will be pissed. The group is going to kill him for it. What if he craves it more?

He keeps considering Justine's offer until he runs out of excuses to not kiss her and his thoughts favor his desire.

"I guess a kiss won't hurt," he mutters to her.

"Promise, it won't hurt," Justine says, before crashing her lips against him.

It's the second time they kiss but it feels different now that there are rules that forbid it which makes it oddly satisfying. There's just something about breaking the rules that makes him feel so damn alive.

Justine gets it and that's why she's smiling when she lets go of the kiss, leaving Jeongin's lips tainted with her lipstick which she hurriedly wipes with her hand.

"See? It doesn't hurt," she says.

JEONGIN: I know everyone is going to be mad about it but I-I don't regret it. Not for a bit, to be honest [laughs]

Jeongin and Justine know how to keep their poker face on the whole night.

Damon almost caught them earlier but thankfully, they manage to make him not suspect anything and so does everyone even until it's bedtime.

"Guys, we've been good these past few days," Mick says to everyone in the room.

"So we're allowed to kiss now?" Damon jokes.

"Man..." Mick sighs, patting his pillow before resting on it, "I'm saying that you guys should keep it that way,"

With the lack of answers, Jeongin can tell that not everyone agrees with the idea, especially him. He exchanges a knowing glance with Justine.

"Better not be any rule breaks tonight, got it?" Mick warns with a glare.

If there's anything Mick shouldn't say to a bunch of rulebreakers, that is exactly it. Tell them to not do it only makes them want to do it more.

That notion seems to be right with, again, no obvious answers but low, weak mutters just to get the conversation over with.

The bedroom turns dark not long after and Justine scoots closer to him until her head rests next to his.

"It's best that we don't tell them," she whispers.

Jeongin agrees. He sees no benefit of being honest to them other than potentially getting crucified by them so it's a hard pass for him.

"I think so too," he says to her.

Justine lowly chuckles, "We shouldn't say anything until the last minute," she suggests.

He nods at that, "No one says anything."

Justine takes his hand and has him link his pinky finger around her for a pinky promise.

"That's a promise," she says and to his surprise, kisses interlinked fingers.

Somehow that night, Jeongin falls asleep at ease.

JEONGIN: I feel guilty about last night. I know everyone is going to hate us but Justine and I decided to not say anything about our rule break.

In the morning, no one still suspected anything.

Maybe the only one that does is Mick, his hawk eyes are scanning everyone's faces even though he's barely awake yet.

"I have a boner for like... 80% of the day," Damon suddenly shares a fact no one even asks.

Bianca chuckles at that while untangling her braided dark hair.

"When you get a boner, your blood rushes to your dick and if it goes for too long, it takes away the blood from your brain," Damon explains.

Everyone doubts that's how it works but they're laughing at his unconfirmed theory, including Jeongin with Justine clinging to his arm and her head resting against it.

Jeongin's eyes somehow wander to bed opposite him, seeing Linda looking not pleased seeing him with Justine which makes him abruptly stop opening his mouth completely.

The day continues and he knows he's only counting down to the time until Lana finally calls everyone to the cabana.

When the call comes, he isn't ready and he believes, so is everyone.

"This is not good," Keith mutters as he adjusts the waistband of his swimming trunks.

"It's too early for this shit," Damon grumbles behind him.

Everyone is taking heavy steps to the cabana, knowing that good things never happened there and today is one of those, that Jeongin knows for sure.

"What do you think Lana wants?" Kurt asks.

Courtney throws all of her hair to the side, "I have a feeling she's not going to be nice to us today," she says.

Jeongin nervously gulps air because Courtney is right.

JEONGIN: This is not good [scratches head] I'm absolutely shitting myself.

To avoid suspicion, he chooses to sit separately from Justine and when the chime comes, he immediately puts his poker face on.

"Despite doubling the fines, I regret to inform you there have been further breaches," Lana announces right away.

It's always a bad sign when Lana skips the formality and goes straight to the rule-breaking announcement.

"Oh, my days!" Keith shortly responds.

Jeongin pretends to act surprised, parting his mouth open in perfect O shape then rubs his chin in wonder. His eyes wander to where Justine sits and he sees the opposite reaction on her, she looks slightly excited for it.

"Breaches?" Francoise points out that this means that there's more than one rule break.

"Y'all need a stricter regime," Mick says with an angry sigh.

However, that doesn't make Jeongin feel relieved, he's still fear of what's going down in a few minutes.

"Does anybody want to get anything off their chest?" Keith asks.

JEONGIN: It's definitely not the time I want to tell everyone that I fucked up.

Despite his calm expression, Jeongin's heart is racing inside his chest. Is it too much of him to ask everyone for a little bit of understanding that for there to be a connection, there has to be a little physical thing?

"Who broke the rule?" Mick asks again.

It's at the tip of his tongue, he wants to get them out as soon as possible but something keeps holding him back. He takes a deep breathe to muster up the courage to say—

"Bianca, what's with your face?" Courtney and her observant eyes.

Biance starts turning her head side to side, propping a hand under her chin then looks at Damon.

"I have to be honest," she says.

"Oh!" Mick shouts in disappointment, holding his head in distress.

"It was last night. It was romantic. It just happened... we kissed," Bianca admits, then turns to Damon, asking him to add something to it.

"I think that was one of the most valuable rule breaks," Damon says.

Surprisingly, everyone takes that well. There's no shouting, no silently cursing and there's not even a glare aimed toward them.

"I think that you guys are building a connection. I think you guys deserve it," Francoise says.

"Your kiss costs the group $6,000," Lana informs.

JEONGIN: Wait... what is going on? This is not the reaction that I thought they were going to get.

Jeongin doesn't expect that to happen so maybe if he admits his rule break like Bianca and Damon did, everyone is going to take it well too, right?

Right???

"So who else broke the rule?" Mick asks again.

This is the time, if he waits until Mick asks again, that'll only earn him the opposite reaction from what he wants.

"Justine and I kissed last night," he says in one breath.

And guess what? Everyone is groaning at that. He looks at Justine to seek some help here through his eyes.

"It just happens, you know," Justine says, not really a strong defense.

"How much money have we lost? Does anybody know?" Mick starts to lose his shit again.

Jeongin's hand flew to cover his eyes, not wanting to see this and also disappointed that everyone reacted differently to him when it was only his first rule break.

"A kiss is harmless," Justine casually says which only angers everyone more with her blatant ignorance of the rules.

"Oh, my God!" Mick shouts in disbelief.

"Why did we get a different reaction from them?" Justine asks the important question here.

"Because we know what Damon and Bianca got going on is solid," Mick explains.

Everyone seems to agree with his answer but Jeongin still can't accept the unfair treatment.

"Thanks, guys," Bianca thanked everyone with a smile.

"Jeongin and Justine, your rule break has cost the group a further $6,000," Lana informs again.

There comes the groans again but despite that, he's not going to waste his energy by holding a grudge over it.

"The prize fund now stands at $176,000."

In the end, everyone is as disappointed to hear how much money they have lost.

"Thanks, Lana," Courtney mutters.

Everyone is getting up from their seats thinking that Lana has done talking when she chimes again and everyone stops moving.

"I haven't finished."

JEONGIN: Oh, what now? [Groans] Seriously?

Everyone is getting nervous once again as they wait for what Lana is going to say and they believe it's yet another bad news.

"It's time to establish how committed to each other you really are by sending some of you on dates..." Lana announces.

"Who's going on a date?" Bianca asks with a blushed cheek, secretly wishing that it's her and Damon.

Jeongin can't say if he and Justine are categorized as a couple yet but he'd love to get on a date, the others start to think that maybe it's good news this time.

"...with new arrivals."

Everyone is exclaiming all at once and this time, Jeongin doesn't even have to pretend to be surprised, he is genuinely surprised to hear that there'll be new guests in the villa.

"Our new arrivals are already aware they're on Too Hot To Handle."

Jeongin notices that not everyone is pleased by this, Bianca and Francoise are not accepting it well from their lack of enthusiasm.

"I have given the new arrival a choice of dating one of the boys currently in couples," Lana further announces.

"It's a curveball y'all," Kurt excitedly says while rubbing his hands together.

Jeongin could feel Justine's eyes boring a hole in between his eyes at the newly shared announcement and the possibility that he could get chosen for this.

"She has selected..."

Despite Justine's reaction, is it wrong of Jeongin to want to be picked for the date? He suddenly feels like meeting new people since he plans to keep exploring his choices.

"Jeongin."

He manifests it so hard that it becomes true but he reminds himself to keep calm about it even though he feels excited to meet the new girl before anyone else.

JEONGIN: I mean... the timing is impeccable [Grins]

"The other new arrival also has been given a choice of dating one of the girls currently in couples," Lana continues.

It's the girls' turn to get excited and Jeongin has no problem if Justine gets picked, that way he wouldn't feel bad about going on a date with the new girl.

"He has selected..."

Justine taps Courtney's knee, hinting that it's probably her chance even though she won't be selected because she's not in a couple.

It's either her, Justine, or Bianca.

"Bianca."

"Thank fuck for that," Kurt lowly mutters, grateful that the new guy doesn't choose Francoise.

"This really is about testing the waters, huh?" Linda says, being the only one enjoying this.

Well, Jeongin feels a sense of relief that he's not as established as Damon and Bianca because, for them, it could be a test to see how genuine their connection is.

"Jeongin and Bianca, please go and get ready for your dates," Lana orders.

Jeongin lets Bianca lead the way to the villa and goes straight to the dressing room to get ready.

Bianca plops down on her usual spot on the vanity table and reclines on her chair, "This is crazy..." she sighs.

He goes to his closet to pick something to wear, this is a date so he's definitely putting an extra effort to build his outfit.

"I'm having a date and it's not with Damon," Bianca sighs again.

Jeongin starts by picking a shirt from the ones he brought, pondering whether he's going for a plain shirt or with prints.

Bianca turns her head to look at Jeongin, then asks, "Do you think your head will be turned?"

That stops him from whatever he's doing, he turns to look back at her and answers, "I don't think I'll be tempted..."

Then he settles on a decision to wear a plain white ribbed shirt and takes it out of the hanger, "Unless she's a gorgeous girl with beautiful eyes," he suddenly adds.

Bianca laughs because she thinks Jeongin is confident about staying loyal to Justine until she hears the rest of his sentence.

"Eyes are your weaknesses, huh?" She asks.

"Yes."

"Well, we'll see," Bianca says, starting to do her make-up as she speaks.

And Jeongin can't wait to find out what you look like.

LANA: I have given our new arrivals one free kiss to use on their dates. They think I'm just being generous, but in reality, I want to see how Jeongin and Bianca, who are both in relationships, react if offered a fine-free kiss.

The date takes place somewhere quite far from the villa.

Jeongin part ways with Bianca when they get to the beach as she goes in the opposite direction and he has to walk the rest of the distance by himself. The staff has prepared a picnic with its classic checkered picnic mat and a basket of what he can safely assume is filled with food.

Being the first one to get there, he sits down and leisurely waits for the new girl by looking at the view from this part of the island he has never been to.

Jeongin gets more nervous the longer he waits for the new girl to come. When you do finally come, he's getting even more nervous that he can hear his heart beating loudly in his ears.

You gracefully wave your hand at him to announce your arrival, looking an absolute lush in a white bikini and a see-through skirt that does nothing to cover your body but floats around your hips as the wind blows your way.

Jeongin gets up and prepares himself to welcome you, putting on a smile that is way too easy to conjure. You are only a few steps away but he already likes what he's seeing.

"Hello," you softly say, introducing your name as you exchange a quick cheek-to-cheek.

"Jeongin," he introduces himself back with a smile that matches the excitement bubbling inside him.

With the afternoon sun hits you right in the eyes, they appear wide and bright, and Jeongin believes those eyes are going to get him in danger.

JEONGIN: Lana brought out my dream girl to test me. Fuck!

"This place is amazing," you delightfully say as you stare out at the sea with the sun slowly sinking into the horizon.

Jeongin is busy filling the glasses with a cocktail mix and tries not to spill a drop. But he knows exactly what you're talking about, he's been living here for a few days and never gets tired of the view.

"Oh, it's paradise," he adds.

He hands one of the drinks to you and without anyone initiating it, you both clink your glasses together for a toast.

"Cheers!" You both mutter in unison.

It's when he has swallowed his drink, he finds your eyes on him again and since you already caught him staring, he may as well use the opportunity to admire your face. There's no denying that you're beautiful but the eyes... he can't stop staring into them.

"You have beautiful eyes," you say, as if you heard his thought and say it out loud for him.

He sheepishly smiles and brushes his hair to the back, "So do you. You're uh... really pretty," he shyly compliments back.

You tuck your hair behind your ear and smack your lips together before talking, "As soon as I flicked past your photo, I was like, yeah, that one," you share with a mix of shy and seductive smiles.

Jeongin's hand flies to his ear and he hopes that they're not turning red from these compliments. He looks away to calm himself down but continues talking, "Really? What is your type?"

"Like you," you answer without a beat.

When Jeongin looks at you again, your eyes automatically lock in a gaze, "I like pretty, bad boys like you."

This time, Jeongin is sure that his ears are reddening and his cheeks are also heating.

"What's your type?" You ask back, sipping your cocktail after.

"I don't have a type," he starts to find it hard to think, "Even if there is, it's always changing."

"Then how about now? What's your type?" You ask, playing with the mini umbrella in your drink and eyes that are doing things to his heart.

Are you really asking? Or do you want him to tell you that he has found his type just now?

"Beautiful eyes, uh... great smiles, good chat," he stutters his words, knowing that he has just described you. He then quickly sips his drink to help clear his throat.

You lightly chuckle then make this gesture with your index finger, drawing a ticking mark in the air as you say, "Tick, tick, tick."

JEONGIN: I'm really enjoying getting to know her even though she's so tempting.

The way you sit on your side with a hand propped against the mat, Jeongin can see every curve of your body, the ascents and descents, and gosh, he likes what he sees.

"You've got a great body," he blurts out and at this point, he just can't control his brain from saying things without filtering it first.

Surprisingly, you take it well and with a smile, "Thanks."

You sit straighter to show him your form and put all of your hair to the back, "I worked hard on it."

"Yeah?" Jeongin asks in wonder.

But you seem to take it as a doubtful response from him and you get up, kneeling on the mat to remove the thin skirt wrapped around your hips.

"It's all natural," you confirm, running your hands down the side of your body.

If he were in some cartoons, Jeongin's eyes would be popped out of their sockets at the sight of your body. It evokes something in him that makes his throat suddenly dry.

You sit back down on the mat and pick up your drink, "Let's make it fair," you say.

Jeongin gulps air to be able to speak, "huh?"

"I'd like to see you with your shirt off," you say, a naughty smile dancing on your pretty face.

He has no problems showing you his body, he worked hard on it too but he doesn't want to spoil it to you right away.

"You'll see it off," he teases, surprised that he's still got game in him despite his brain barely functioning.

"Okay," you simply say, then bring your glass close to your lips but not drinking it.

Just so you know, Jeongin also has a thirst for something else.

JEONGIN: She has all of my attention. I'm just not thinking about anything else.

Jeongin takes the food out of the picnic basket and lays it out on the side of the mat, a bowl of sliced fruits while the other bowl is filled with melted chocolate.

"Why are you sitting so far away from me?" You ask, pointing out the big space between the two of you.

Even in this distance, he can feel the heat and the tension between the two of you. He doesn't want to know what would it feel like to be in such proximity with you.

"Come closer! I don’t bite," you cutely whine, putting a cushion to where you want him to be.

"Okay, maybe, just a little?" You add a joke and a giggle.

Jeongin relents, he scoots closer to you yet maintains a safe space in between. He watches as you open the bowl of sliced fruits and take out a piece, dipping it in the chocolate before feeding it to him.

He hurriedly leans closer and opens his mouth for you, he manages to eat it alright but the chocolate drips onto the corner of his mouth.

"You like to get messy, do you?" He jokingly says, cluelessly wiping around the mouth.

"Yes, I do," you confidently answer.

You're quick to offer your help to clean it for him, wipe it with your thumb, and not hesitate to lick it clean after.

He then takes his turn to pick up a slice of fruit and dips it into the chocolate, he carefully brings it close to your mouth. You hold his wrist to keep his hand steady as you take it into your mouth and keep holding his hand to clean the chocolate coating his finger.

It does something to him seeing you taking his finger into your mouth and also feels how hot and wet the inside of your mouth is.

"Mmh... yum," you delightfully hum as you pull his finger out of you.

JEONGIN: The longer this date goes on, the more I can't resist her.

There's so much sexual chemistry here and it's getting heavy that Jeongin doesn't know how long he can go on, you are literally too hot to handle.

Your hand reaches for his face, using only your fingertips to trail his jawline, and then rest your hand on his thigh. The two of you are staring into each other’s eyes but he can tell that your minds are thinking the same things.

"Kiss me," you say out of the blue.

As if making his head feel like a scrambled egg isn't enough for you. He can't remember if Lana has briefed you on what kind of show you're in and that you ask him to do something he's not allowed to do.

"You do know it's Too Hot To Handle, right?" He asks with his brows furrowed, feeling bad if the answer is no but he's more afraid to know the answer is yes.

"I do know," you tell him, your hand inching closer to the hem of his swimming trunk.

The tension is getting unbearable and Jeongin feels like it's weighing down his chest, making it hard for him to breathe.

"Lana told me that I get a free kiss without getting fined," you explain, tipping your head to the side while your fingers are lightly caressing his inner thigh.

His brain is close to short-circuit yet he tries so hard to think straight and what would happen if he does certain things with you.

"I do want to," he says.

A smile rises on your face and your eyes light up the second you hear his answer.

Jeongin doesn't want to see those glints in your eyes disappear when he tells you about Justine but he doesn't want to hide it from you either.

"It's just like... there's a girl inside there," he says, not giving you the detailed information.

That doesn't seem to stop you as your eyes remain wide and bright as you tip your head to the other side and hold his gaze, "Is she special to you?"

Special? Jeongin isn't sure about that so he settles on a safe answer, "It's only been a few days so I can't really tell."

You smack your lips together again, tantalizing him with how plump and soft they look to him.

"I don't see the damage in it. If anything, we'll know if there's sparks between us," you give such a strong argument to him.

It takes every bone in his body not to try and kiss you right this very second. He may have said Justine is not that special but kissing another girl behind her back... that's not how he wants it to go.

"Come on," you tease, leaning closer to his face.

His heart leaps when you place a soft kiss on his cheek and rub the lipstick mark after.

"I know you want it," you lowly mutter, teasing him more with your sultry voice.

He doesn't know if you notice but his body is slightly shaking from constantly resisting the urge to fill his desire to kiss you and his hands are gripping the picnic mat to not get them anywhere close to you.

"I do want to kiss you," he breathlessly says as if it takes all of him to admit that.

You smile in satisfaction, leaning in to land another soft kiss on his jaw to give him a taste of your lips. Your lips linger close to his ear to sweetly whisper, "Come on, Jeongin."

JEONGIN: I am so tempted. I don't know what to do [Exhales]

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projectionistwrites · 2 years ago

Text

FOR SCIENCE | the project proposal

In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all...

Steven Grant/Marc Spector/Jake Lockley x afab!psychologist!reader (3.2k+)

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: descriptions of mental illness, depictions of DID, fetishization of mental disorders (DID), potentially unethical scientific practices, no smut in this part NOTES: again, please don’t read this if you’re concerned at all with research ethics, as this is NOT a good demonstration of scientific procedures and studies. DISCLAIMER: although i’m incredibly knowledgeable about psychology, i am NOT a professional. all psychoanalyses made throughout the course of this storyline are entirely my own, based on my own interpretations of the characters. in a similar vein, i am also not an expert on DID specifically (although i am well-read on mental disorders and diagnoses), so i apologize for any incorrect terminology or misrepresentation. don’t hesitate to call me out if i say something wrong!

next part →

Marc Spector’s psyche was a psychologist’s wet dream.

Three distinct personalities, completely separated from each other, all occupying the same host body. At one point, all mutually unaware of the others, but now living together in solidarity and (relative) cooperation.

Meeting Marc Spector was a happy accident—but meeting a man with a clearcut case of Dissociative Identity Disorder as a Professor of Psychology? Now that was just pure, dumb luck.

You had met Steven Grant first. You’d run into him at the British Museum during a university-sponsored visit. Your interaction had been brief, but it was memorable for you nonetheless—there was just something about those soft brown eyes and dopey, shy smile that melted your heart.

Imagine your surprise when you accidentally ran into that same man on the bus, only for him to introduce himself as Marc with a midwestern American accent and a cold, calculated gleam in his stare. He was forward and confident—very much unlike your previous encounter with him. When you called his bluff and swore you’d interacted with him under the guise of Steven, he pulled you aside and gently tried to justify the confusion.

“It’s—I have this...condition. It’s—have you ever heard of Dissociative Identity Disorder?”

You had tried hard to fight your smile.

“Yeah, I’m familiar with it.”

It was only revealed to him—after his winded and lengthy explanation—that you had a doctorate degree in clinical psychology and specialized in mental disorders.

Steven’s curiosity was piqued, and Marc silently hoped you’d be able to shed some insight into the functioning of his fragmented mind. You quickly established an easy friendship, somewhat reminiscent of a relationship between a client and therapist—although you knew and cared for each other on a much deeper and more intimate level.

Several months later, you were finally introduced to the most elusive alter within the system—Jake Lockley.

You began to spend the majority of your free time with the men—all three of them seemed to be relatively taken with you. Steven was sweet, Marc was shrewd, and Jake was steadfast. It was sometimes difficult to conceptualize that they all shared the same physical body with how differently they behaved.

It hadn’t started as a project—genuinely, truly, it hadn’t. It wasn’t your intention to be so captivated by those big brown puppy-dog eyes or the softness within his smile. And the feelings you had for him—for all of them—were real, and raw, and indisputable. You would never, ever, ever do anything to make them feel uncomfortable or jeopardize your relationships in any way.

Which is why this was such a bad fucking idea.

Your nails drummed against the side of your porcelain coffee mug as your nervously chewed on the cap of your red pen, making a futile attempt to focus on grading the research report in front of you, but your attention was clearly elsewhere. Your eyes kept darting to the clock on the wall across from you, watching the second hand tick away slowly. The coffee shop was playing gentle soothing acoustic songs, the smell of cinnamon lingering in the air, but even the coziness wasn’t enough to shake your nerves.

“Hey, there, Doc.”

Your head perked at the sound of a familiar voice, a warming hand clapping your shoulder as Marc Spector walked to the other side of the small table and sat down across from you. You groaned at his greeting, pulling your reading glasses from your nose and setting them on the table in front of you.

“Marc, I swear, if you call me that one more time, I’ll��”

He threw his hands up in mock surrender, although he was smirking slyly at you.

“Alright, alright, jeez—what’s got you wound up so tight, huh?”

He reached for the paper on top of the stack in front of you, reading off the title aloud.

“An In-depth Investigation Into the Underlying Psychological Causes of Erectile Dysfunction in Men Under 50.”

His face contorted in a look of disgust.

“Jesus—that’s gotta be the most boring fuckin’ thing I’ve ever heard.”

You watched as his eyes fluttered briefly, his posture sinking and his features softening. When his eyes regained focus, he shook his head, huffing.

“Bugger off, Marc—I think it sounds plenty interestin’.”

Steven smiled graciously, offering the packet back to you. You accepted it tiredly, throwing it atop the pile of what seemed like an endless supply of mediocre student submissions that had yet to be graded.

“Thanks, Steven, but Marc’s right—my brain’s fried. I swear, if I have to read another shitty case study about men whose dicks don’t work, I’ll gouge my eyes out.”

The man chuckled at your confession as you shoved the stack of papers into your briefcase clumsily, snapping it shut without a second thought and letting it fall back to the floor beside your table. You carefully picked up your mug and took a long, slow sip—your coffee was barely lukewarm, at this point, as you’d be sitting at the cafe for hours, working quietly as you patiently waited on your friend’s arrival.

Although Steven was blissfully oblivious, Marc was observant. His consciousness pushed to the front, studying you carefully—your white-knuckled grip against your cup, your shifty eyes that were looking everywhere but at him, the tension in your shoulders and nervous bouncing of your leg.

“Alright—what’s wrong?”

Your gaze snapped over to him where he was sat with arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed in suspicion. You tried to force a smile in an effort to cover up your uncertainty.

“Nothing’s wrong, Marc. Promise.”

You held his gaze intently, trying to convince him with your half-hearted response. His stare didn't waver, and after a few brief moments, you had to look down, overwhelmed with the intensity of his scrutiny.

“Alright, let’s try that again. Y/N—what’s wrong?”

You let a long, exasperated sigh, running a tired hand down your face. This had been weighing on you for a few days, at this point, and you still weren’t sure if you could handle the emotional labor this conversation would require.

“It’s true, nothing’s—nothing’s wrong, per se, I just—I just need to talk to you. I’ve—I have this idea—”

“Like—a work-related, science-y idea? You want Steven? Or—I can try my best to help, but sometimes you get excited and start talking really fast and I can’t keep up, but—”

“No, Marc, it’s not—I mean, it’s not really science-y, but like, also—it kinda is? I don’t know how to explain it, but I really need to—”

“I mean, whatever it is, you seem pretty worried about it, so obviously it’s important, and—and I just wanna make sure we’re giving you whatever response you need, or, at least—”

“Jesus, Marc, if you’d let me finish.”

You clipped, and his jaw snapped shut instantaneously, somewhat taken aback by your outburst. You were normally so controlled, practiced with your expressions, so seeing any sign of emotional imbalance was startling.

Guilt immediately flooded your stomach after you lashed out—you buried your head in your hands, taking a few slow, deliberate breaths in an attempt to quell your rapid heartbeat.

“Shit—sorry, I didn’t mean—this is just... I’m not sure how to go about this.”

You felt the featherlight brush of calloused fingertips against your forearm, coaxing your face away from your palms. When you finally lifted your head, Steven had returned, his eyes soft and reassuring. He pulled your hand into his, squeezing briefly before rubbing his thumb comfortingly across your knuckles.

“S’alright, love, truly. Take as much time as you need, and—and if there’s anythin’ you need from us, it’s yours. Just—whenever you’re ready.”

You tried to ignore the butterflies flitting in your stomach at Steven’s gentle promise. You inhaled once more, before finding his eyes.

“This—I need to talk to all three of you. Can you—are you in a place where you can all be co-conscious?”

Steven’s lips turned up at the corners at your thoughtfulness. He received verbal responses from both Marc and Jake—a confirmation that they were both actively listening.

“’Course. We’re all here. Is—do you have a preference, as to who you’d like to speak with?”

You returned his smile, offering a slight squeeze to his hand.

“I mean—since you’re already fronting, might as well stay, huh?”

Steven blushed, trying to fight the giddiness that came from your validation. He quickly steeled himself, reminding himself that you were struggling to open up to him.

“Alright. Whenever you’re ready, then, yeah?”

You cautiously pulled your hand away from his, mostly to keep yourself grounded and get out what you needed before you second-guessed yourself.

“So.”

You cautiously began.

“I had this—this idea. And it’s—it sounds crazy, and I get that, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, especially because—well, I just feel like this is something that could have damning effects on the entire field of psychology, with both practical and theoretical applications, but—that doesn’t mean—I don’t want you to feel obligated by any means to agree, or—or to feel pressured into anything, and I definitely don’t want you to think that—that I’m using you, because that couldn’t be farther from the truth, I swear, and—”

“Y/N.”

His tone was soft, a quiet interruption from your rambling, and your eyes widened in concern. However, he offered you a reassuring nod.

“Just tell us what it is, yeah? We’ll go from there.”

You nodded slowly, squeezing your eyes shut, before beginning again.

“There’s this huge debate in psychology. It’s pretty much the basis of a lot of our research—the whole nature versus nurture debate. Basically, it’s all about how much of our personalities can be attributed to genetics versus how much can be attributed to our life experiences.”

Steven was listening intently, leaning forward into your words.

“Well, it’s—it’s a concept that’s really difficult to research, because, well, we don’t really have a basis of comparison. The best thing we have to go off of is when identical twins get separated at birth and grow up in different places. Or, at least—that was the best we’ve had up until this point. Does—does that make sense?”

“Yes.”

He assured, nodding in acknowledgement. You only hoped the other two alters were keeping up.

“So, basically what I’m getting at here, is, well—you, and—and all three of you, really—Marc and Jake, you guys provide a really, really unique opportunity, because, well—you share a body. So, physiologically, you’re completely identical. The only thing that’s different about you is who you are, so—your life experiences and memories and things like that. You’re—you’re like the perfect example of how our experiences shape our beings.”

“Right. Right.”

Steven followed your train of thought carefully, brows furrowed. You took a deep breath. This is the part you were dreading.

“So, I had this thought... you three boys are so vastly different from each other. Like, really, really different, and—and you each have your own preferences, things like that, but—but you still have the same body. In my Abnormal Psych course, we’re studying intimacy and desire right now. So—so what I was wondering was about your—your sexuality. Like, to what extent are your sexual preferences due to your biology rather than your cognition.”

Steven blew out a shaky exhale, though he tried not to appear perturbed by your words. His mind was silent—he could feel the intense focus from his alters, now hanging on your every word.

“What if there was a way, to, you know, test, how different your sexual preferences are? And to test and see how your arousal is different, or the same, based on locations of stimulation and things like that?”

Bloody fucking hell.

In a split second, Marc was fronting, Steven slipping back into the headspace, completely overwhelmed and unsure of what to say or how to react. You noticed the abrupt switch, and after recovering from the brief whiplash, you felt panic spur within you. You’d scared him away.

Marc’s brows were furrowed, like he wasn’t completely picking up what you were putting down.

“So, what exactly are you suggesting?”

You closed your eyes.

“I guess—what I’m suggesting is that you—you help me research. You—you let me study you, each of you, independently, to see—to see how different your sexual behaviors and preferences are.”

“Like—like a questionnaire, or something?”

Marc questioned, but when you shook your head, eyes casting downwards, it suddenly dawned on him. Steven’s departure made sense. Everything made sense.

“So... so lemme get this straight.”

Marc made a stopping motion with his hand, gesturing for you to pause.

“You—want to have sex, with me—with us... for science?”

“Well, I mean, it—it doesn’t necessarily have to be with me, I could—we could find someone else, if you’re more comfortable, and—and I could just observe, or—”

“So you’re a voyeur, now?”

You jolted and Marc’s vulgarity, eyes quickly scanning your surroundings to make sure no one was listening in on your conversation. Luckily, the cafe was relatively deserted at that point.

“No! No, that’s not—I’m just saying, with what I’m suggesting, it—it would make the most sense for the researcher to—to be more hands-on, but that’s...”

Your voice trailed off, staring at a speck of grime on the table, trying to calm the rapid racing of your heart.

Yeah, seems she's interested in being real hands-on, huh?

Marc struggled to hold in his snickering at Jake’s internal dialogue, but after seeing the worry that was clinging to your features, his sympathy prevailed.

“Y/N.”

He spoke calmly, cool and collected. Your eyes flitted to his, where he was watching you intently. However, you could see the ghost of a smirk on his face.

“So what you’re saying is... you want to have sex, with me, for science.”

He reiterated, and you opened your mouth to protest, to defend your credibility, to rationalize your bizarre proposition, but instead, a long sigh escaped you as you admitted defeat.

“Yes. Yeah. That’s…exactly what I’m saying.”

A brief silence stagnated between you, and there was a tightness forming in your chest as every worst-case-scenario began coming to fruition in the forefront of your mind.

“I’m—I’m so sorry, Marc, I didn’t mean to overstep, or—or—”

“What, exactly, would this entail?”

Marc inquired, unable to deny his curiosity. You blinked once, then twice, processing his words.

“So—so you’ll do it?”

He held up his hands as if to tell you to slow down.

“Just—hang on. Hypothetically speaking, what—what would this even look like?”

Excitement zipped up your skin as you reached down into your briefcase, pulling out a manila folder full of several sheets of scribbled ideas and disorganized thoughts.

“Well, see, I’ve been brainstorming—”

Christ, she has the whole thing planned.

Steven’s voice sounded faint, breathless, winded. Marc ignored him, instead focusing in on your sudden enthusiasm.

“—and I came up with a research plan. So, the way it would go—we’d meet for the weekend, three weekends in a row, with a week break in between. Each alter will have their own weekend to be the subject of study. Day one, we—well, you would lead the sexual encounter. Do what you want, showcase what sex usually looks like for you, what you like, what you don’t like—”

Marc's mind was reeling. He shamelessly attempted to ignore the effect your words were having on him. Do what you want. What you like. To you.

You were still talking.

“—and then the second day, you’d let me take the reins. I’ll psychoanalyze your behavior from the first day, and synthesize that with all the information I already have about you, and I’ll try to—well, I don’t wanna say push your buttons, but—basically, as shitty as it sounds, I’d be trying to bring to light any vulnerabilities, prod at the soft spots, stuff like that. Try to see if I can find what it is each of you seeks out through sexual intimacy. Does that make sense?”

Marc shook his head, lost in thought, but he blinked away the fog in his mind and quickly corrected himself with a nod.

“Yeah, I mean—I think so? Would this—what would you do, once it’s over? Like, what’s the point?”

“It would never be published, or shared with anyone else, I can promise you that. It’s—it would mostly be for me. Kind of like a passion project, I guess. I’ve been thinking about it for awhile, and, well...”

Passion project?

What’s she mean, ‘she’s been thinkin’ about it for awhile?’

Marc almost shushed the voices in his head aloud, trying to clear his head of static so he could properly take all of this in.

He looked up at you, and you were staring up at him with eye round and hopeful, almost reverent as they passed over him. He blew out a slow breath.

“Do... can we have time to think about it? To talk about it?”

The fuck do you mean, jefe? I’m ready to start right now.

You nodded encouragingly, although Marc caught the brief glimmer of disappointment in your eyes.

“Of course, Marc. Take as long as you need. And—please don’t feel obligated to say yes. I mean it. I know—I know this kind of came out of left field, and—and I don’t want to violate any boundaries, or—or jeopardize our friendship in any way, I would never want to do anything to make you uncomfortable, just—”

You stalled your tangent with a slow breath.

“Just let me know, okay?”

Marc nodded at you, smiling softly and contemplatively as he rose from the table and exited the coffeeshop, leaving you to stew in anticipation and something adjacent to remorse.

The call came in the next day, at 11am on the dot. It was Steven on the other line when you answered, walking out of the lecture hall doors as your class adjourned.

“Hello?”

You answered.

“Mornin’, Y/N. It’s, uh—It’s Steven.”

You giggled.

“I know, Steven. I have caller ID, and believe it or not, your accent is kind of distinct.”

You could practically hear him blush on the other end.

“Right. Yeah. Well, I just—I was callin’ to, uh—Christ, of course they made me do this, I can’t even—”

“Steven.”

You interrupted gently, your calmness soothing his nerves to some degree. He took a breath.

“Sorry. I—We talked it over. The whole—your experiment. And—and I think we’re all up for it.”

You froze in your tracks, students continuing to rush around on either side of you in the hallway. Your hand was shaking.

“I—really? Are you sure?”

“Well, no—I mean, yeah, I just—of course, I’ve got some reservations, but, I mean—it’s for science, yeah?"

A smile was creeping up your face.

“Yeah. Yes. For—for research purposes.”

Yeah, solely research purposes, my ass.

Marc quipped internally, and Steven gulped.

“Right, then. Could we—shall we meet again today, or—whenever, to talk it over a bit more?”

You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you.

“That’d be perfect. We can meet same time, same place as yesterday?”

He gave a hum of agreement, and you felt suddenly breathless as the reality of the situation began to set in.

“Right. I’ll—I’ll see you then, okay, Steven?”

“Yeah, ‘lright, cheers.”

“And, Steven?”

You called quickly, hoping to catch him before he ended the call.

He hummed in response. You smiled.

“Thank you. Really, thank you.”

1K notes · View notes

floras-imagination · 7 months ago

Text

guitar hands 🎸✌️- matty healy x reader

summary: You can no longer hide the longing obsession for your best friend matty's hands... word count: 3.8k warnings: 18+ smut, fingering authors note: It's been ages since I've written a fanfiction, so this one might be a bit rusty. I hope you enjoy it, though.❤️ Part 2

"I can't do this anymore!", you gasped as your best friend Matty opened the door.

You walked in quickly as he opened his mouth, to greet you, but you cut him off before he could say anything, leaving him standing in the doorway, staring at you in surprise.

"I will never date anyone ever again!", you turned around, looking at a very confused Matty who was still holding the doorknob in his hands.

You pointed your index finger in the air to emphasize your words, "And this time I really mean it, so don't you dare laughing!", you frowned furiously in his direction, in a way that Matty finds terribly cute. It's a facial expression you often make when you're mad and Matty can't ever hide his little smirk when he sees you like that. But this usually makes you even angrier, which Matty doesn't mind because, obviously, he loves it.

Sometimes he even teases you a little bit to see that fuming, adorable glance of yours. But he always chooses his words carefully to make sure he doesn't hurt you with anything he says.

You threw your black bag in the corner before plopping down on the couch in his living room, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Still frowning, you focused your eyes on the floor in front of you.

He closed the door and slowly made his way over to the couch. His hair was messy and a few strands of his curls hung over his forehead. He looked a bit drowsy, like he'd just woken up from a nap.

"Well... hello, love.", it was finally his turn to speak. His voice sounded low and sleepy.

He rubbed his left eye, before placing the palm of his hand on his cheek, "It's nice to see you...", he continued.

You didn't say anything.

He sat down beside you, admiring you with a big smirk on his face. Suddenly, he seemed less and less tired. You could literally see the sleepiness leaving his body as his smirk grew wider and wider. In his head, he counted down the seconds, well aware that his silly smile was going to drive you nuts in less than five seconds. One, two, three, four...

"What?" you spat at him, turning your head to your right to face him. "Can you please stop doing that?" you asked, finally relaxing the muscles of your forehead.

"Doing what?" he giggled back at you. The "what" sounded more like a "wha". You've always had a weakness for his strong British accent. Hearing Matty talk gave you a weird feeling inside your lower belly, a feeling you've been trying to ignore ever since you first noticed it.

Matty and you had been best friends since year 9. You met him on your first day of school, just a few days after you and your family had moved from New York to Manchester. After the teacher introduced you to the class, Matty offered to give you a tour of the school. You were extremely grateful to have such a friendly classmate as Matty, and the fear of spending every break alone promptly vanished as he never left your side during breaks, welcoming you into his circle of friends.

You must admit you found him attractive, and he became even more appealing over the years. But he never made any moves that could suggest he wanted more than friendship, so you kept convincing yourself that this wasn't what you wanted either. You somewhat accustomed yourself to the idea of never getting closer to him, which made it easier to live with your hidden feelings. It has been ten years now, and sometimes you were so adept at denying your feelings that you even started to believe the lies you told yourself. In the meantime, you also had a few boyfriends and situationships where you completely forgot about your feelings for Matty due to being preoccupied.

Sadly, each of your relationships turned out to be exceedingly toxic, which made it difficult for you to focus on anything else. You constantly worried about not being enough or being too much. Days without arguments and tears were extremely rare, but Matty was always there for you.

"Oh come on, you know what I mean"

He was about to say something again, but you didn't let him.

"Looking at me like that when I'm mad. It's not funny, Matty! This is a serious situation!"

"A serious situation? Oh, okay. Well, you already said that a few weeks ago, when you came home from your date with that other bloke... Wait, what was his name again?", he paused for a moment as he touched his chin, looking up at the ceiling, pretending to think. After two seconds he gave up, because he really didn't remember the boy's name.

About 10 months ago, your boyfriend of two years broke up with you. It was a tough time for you, but Matty had been incredibly supportive. He let you sleep at his place on nights when you didn't want to be alone, which was almost every night for about a month and a half after the breakup. You cried a lot, and your best friend held you throughout the entire night, calming you down and making sure you had someone to talk to. The two of you shared a few restless nights during which neither of you got much sleep. However, cuddling was nothing new or special since you've been doing this ever since you became close friends. Matty has always craved cuddles from you, especially during movie nights or casual hangouts. You didn't read too much into it, presuming it's a normal thing best mates tend to do, but little did you know that he's been hiding his feelings as well...

When you eventually started to feel a bit better, Matty encouraged you to download some dating apps because he said something like 'the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.' That's also how the singer tried to get over his crush on you. He hooked up with numerous girls over the past years, desperately trying to feel something similar to the affection he feels in your presence, yet each trial remained unsuccessful.

You decided to give his advice a shot, and it was actually an excellent way to distract yourself from your aching heart. Though you didn't have much luck with your dates, you were at least able to get over your ridiculous ex.

"Anyway," he shrugged, "It doesn't matter."

"I don't remember his name either," you said dryly, still not averting your gaze from his face. Matty immediately turned his head to the left, now looking into your eyes as both of you burst into heavy, heartfelt laughter.

"Come here, darling..." he laughed, raising his left arm to pull you into a lovingly sweet hug.

He loved having you around and spending intimate and funny moments like this one with you. Seeing you heartbroken and sad broke his heart into a million little pieces. Lately, he's been struggling a lot with his self-control, not knowing how much longer he'll be able to keep his longing feelings for you a secret.

As you lay in his embrace, head resting on his soft, comfy chest, he snuggled his nose into your freshly washed hair, which smelled like a huge field of spring flowers.

"You wanna tell me what happened?" he mumbled against your head.

You were now completely relaxed, feeling happy in the lovely arms of your friend. "The date was horrible," you laughed, starting to tell your story. "We met up for dinner, and he was talking about himself the whole time! How he goes to the gym every single day... and it was just gym, gym, gym... and then he asked me if I did any sports, and I said no, and then he was talking some kind of bullshit again... but I wasn't even listening anymore at this point," you tittered before continuing, "Then I wanted to order some ice cream for dessert, and then he told me how unhealthy sugar was..." you couldn't stop yourself from laughing.

"No, really?" Matty laughed, still holding you tight. "What did you say then?"

"Nothing. I just grabbed my bag and left."

Matty threw his head back, roaring in laughter. "This is my girl. I'm proud of you," he breathed heavily. "I have ice cream in the freezer. You want some?"

You immediately jumped up at his words. "Yes! Please!"

He got up from the couch, preparing you a bowl of ice cream in the kitchen.

He strolled back to the living room, carrying the cold bowl in his hands. You found yourself lost in your thoughts, admiring his large, delicate fingers. You called them guitar hands, since you've seen plenty of other guitarists having these kinds of hands, but Matty's have been your favourite. The mere thought of his agile fingers touching your neck or thighs caused shivers, leaving your whole body covered with goosebumps. In your dreams, you imagined them slowly unbuttoning your jeans, gently sliding into your panties to...

You briefly shook your head, forcing the end of this forbidden daydream, after staring at Matty like you've just seen a ghost.

"Are you alright?" he questioned, throwing a rather puzzled glance at you.

"Hm...what?" you uttered, shaking your head once again. "Yeah, yes, I'm fine. I was just... nevermind," a slight chuckle left your lips, masking the huge amount of shame you felt.

"Honestly, why was I even mad?" you snickered, trying to change the topic as he handed you your much-needed dessert. "This is just so hilarious. But anyway, I meant what I said earlier. I won't go on any more dates," you licked the spoon delightfully, "I'm done. From now on, I'm going to enjoy my single era alone."

For a very brief moment, a smutty thought crossed Matty's mind as he saw your tongue gliding over the back of the spoon you held in your small, soft hand. He pushed the thought away quickly.

"Whatever makes you happy, love. I'm just glad you're finally over your ex. You were too good for him. You deserve so much more than that," he declared, fantasizing about being the man by your side, knowing you well enough to meet all your unique needs.

"Yes, I know. I don't know what I saw in him," you agreed. "But let's just forget about it, please."

He smiled, pulling you into his arms to place a peck on the side of your head. The Netflix logo popped up on the big flat screen in front of you as Matty turned on the TV. "You wanna stay with me tonight?" he asked his best friend needily, in a romantic, cuddly mood. It had been a long time since your last sleepover, and he was desperate to have you near.

Your right cheek was already pressed against Matty's chest as you were sleepily nestled in his hug, mumbling your answer "Guess you already took that decision for me, didn't you?"

"Yep," he stated, resting his head on yours. Though he couldn't imagine anything better than lying there with the one person he loved, his gracious smile was tinged with melancholy, as he couldn't shake the doubt that you would never reciprocate the depth of his feelings.

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

You found yourself waking up alone in the soft embrace of Matty's bed, the night still cloaking the world outside. With a sleepy sigh, you shifted beneath the covers to get up. The door stood slightly ajar and the enchanting sound of a guitar drifted into the moonlit room.

You opened the door, following the echoing noise of music that came from the living room. Matty was sat on the couch with a guitar on his lap, wearing his blue nike sweater. His messy curls tangled all over his forehead, making him look so effortlessly handsome in the gloomy warm light of the fairy lights hanging from the bookshelf.

He was so deeply focused in playing, he didn't even notice you already stood in the living room. Seizing the moment, you took the opportunity to observe him, particularly captivated by the way his hands deftly fingered the chords on the guitar, moving with such grace as if they were dancing in silent harmony with the music.

He looked up to see you standing in front of him, adoring your dozy appearence as he stopped strumming the strings of the guitar.

"Morning, sleepyhead", he greeted you in the usual flirtatious way. "I couldn't sleep. Wanted to work a bit on that new song. Was it too loud?"

"No, it's fine. It sounds good. Can I listen?"

"Course you can. Sit down", he demanded with a grin on his face as he continued playing.

You loved the sound of Matty's new song and even though you tried your best to concentrate on the rythm of the music, you couldn't help yourself from staring at his hands again. The way his fingers nimbly glided over the fretboard, made you think about all the other things these supple hands could do to you. A sinking feeling of guiltful embarassement was spreading inside your stomach. You hated having these lustrous thoughts while sitting in front your best friend.

While you were still submerged in your shameful thoughts, Matty slowly emerged from the trance he typically falls into when he plays the guitar. His gaze drifted over to you, curious about what you were thinking about the new piece. He observed you for a moment until he realized you were absentmindedly fixated on his left hand.

Recalling a similar situation from earlier that day, he recognized the same expression on your face as when he had brought you the bowl of ice cream.

He stopped playing, causing you to look at his eyes as your consciousness returned. "Is anything wrong with my hands?"

"What? No, why?", you raised an eyebrow, snickering nervously. "What could be wrong with your hands?"

"You've been staring at my hands again!"

"I don't know what you're talking about. When did I stare at your hands?"

"Well, just now? And earlier when I gave you the ice-cream?"

"I haven't!"

"You have! And it's not the first time I caught you doing that..."

"I was just wondering which chords you used", you declared, visibly annoyed.

"You're such a bad liar."

"No, it's true!", you tried to defend yourself.

"Ah, so you were staring? "

"I wasn't!", your voice grew louder and louder. You weren't angry at him but at yourself for not being careful enough. What if he finds out about the feelings you'd been trying so hard to hide all these years? What if your friendship ended right now, right here, in this night? The enormous weight of fear and sadness settled like a lump in your throat, making it hard to swallow. You had to swallow though, since you already felt tears coming up that needed to be hidden at all cost. It was impossible for you to gulp without making a noise as the lump of woe was already way too big to be swallowed in secret.

"Gaslighting...", Matty teased in a lighthearted manner instead of being serious or mad. He knew he was right, especially now that you seemed so offended by his question.

"Okay, that's enough. I'll go home", without hesitation you bolted upright from the couch.

Matty immediately reacted by grabbing your wrist with his right hand, while still seated on the couch, holding the neck of the guitar with his left one. You turned around to face him as he was looking deep inside of your eyes. Contrary to your expectation he was still far from being furious. You caught a glimpse of him still holding the D chord as your eyes darted around. His thumb rested on the e string, tightly gripping the guitar's neck.

"It's quarter past midnight. You're not going anywhere", he stated with a slight chuckle, his playful demeanor both infuriating and comforting you. He endeavored to soothe your frayed nerves, but his touch and gaze left you feeling uncomfortably giddy, leaving you unable to think straight. You swallowed hard, meeting his piercing stare.

As Matty's intense gaze locked onto yours, he felt the floodgates of longing burst open within him. No longer did he bother to conceal his desire.

'Now or never', he thought to himself, 'do it, you muppet!'

With another firm grip on your wrist, he summoned up all his courage, guiding you towards him with a sudden movement as he finally crushed his lips onto yours. After years and years of dreaming about this exact moment, it now became reality. And it felt even better than both of you could have ever imagined. Setting the guitar aside, he placed it to his left on the couch, drawing you closer. Pressing you gently against the cushions, he positioned his body on top of yours, eagerly seeking your lips again.

In the next thirty minutes you were having your long awaited make out session, filled with lots of wet and fiery kisses along with tender, passionate touches.

No words required, Matty was overjoyed and now well aware of the fact that you returned what he felt for you. Even though Matty didn't mention a single word, you knew it too.

"I love you so much, baby", he confessed, right before he started to work his way down your neck, placing gentle kisses on your soft skin, "I've been meaning to do this for ages"

"I love you too, Matty", you whispered, still not knowing if you were awake or dreaming.

As he was passionately devouring you, he could feel your body trembling while lust was written all over your face.

"I didn't expect you to have such a dirty mind, though.", he smirked against your neck.

"What do you mean?", your voice was shaking.

"You haven't answered my question yet"

"Which question?"

"Why you're so obsessed with my hands...",

"Matty please...", you whined.

"What?", he asked as his lips were still clung to your neck, "Tell me what you want me to do with my hands"

You gulped as feelings of overwhelming embarrassment came flooding over you again.

He slowly moved his hand from your back over your chest, sliding it down your belly, causing you to shiver even more. He stopped at the button of your jeans, resting his hand on your waist as he peeked up to lock his gaze with yours. With fluttering eyes you glanced down at him, wondering why he stopped. The intense craving for having his fingers inside of you became unbearable.

While Matty was grinning from ear to ear, finding pleasure in torturing you with his teasing touches, he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Please, Matty... I...", you stuttered, still not being able to speak properly.

"Tell me, love"

"I...", your words came out as a faint whisper, "I need you. Matty, please..."

"Where?", he whispered back at you.

"Inside me...", you finally gave him the words he wanted to hear, not caring about another wave of shame that was crashing all over you.

Not waisting any more time, he unzipped your jeans, slowly making his way into your slip. By the time his soft fingers reached your clit, you closed your eyes, throwing your head back in deep pleasure. A heavy moan left your mouth, as you were electrified by his heavenly touch that you've been craving so desperately.

"No, no, no, no, no!", he complained, "I want you to look at me."

The inability to move made it impossible for you to follow his command.

He tightened the grip between your legs as he repeated his order, "I said look at me!"

Continuing his teasing game, Matty was about to pull his hand back out of your pants, due to your disobedience, but you immediately stopped him by grabbing his hand to keep it in place. "What are you doing?", you questioned, wanting him to continue what he started.

"Uhm.. pulling my hand out.", he answered casually with a shrug, pretending it wasn't part of his little game. His plan worked out immediately when you looked at him with that cute, furious frown on your face.

"No! Why?", you protested.

Matty leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he whispered "Because only good girls deserve to be fingered by Matty Healy."

"But..."

"And you aren't one", he gently pecked the skin of your neck again.

"I am", you moaned in response to his soft kisses.

"Don't think so. If you were, you'd do what I say"

"Please Matty stop teasing me now! I can't take it any longer"

"Hmm... seems like someone's being really needy...", he kept on playing with you, "will you be a good girl for me now?"

"Yes, Matty. Yes, I will", you answered impatiently.

"Then look at me.", he said as he carefully put his hand back between your legs and this time you were following his command, being the good girl he asked you to be, though it was definitely not easy for you to keep eye contact with him.

"Now you are being a good girl. I want you to keep looking at me, okay? Will you do that for me, darling?"

You nodded in response, "Hm... yes."

All of a sudden he pushed his middlefinger inside you, causing a loud moan from you.

"That's what you were thinking about when you watched me play guitar, isn't it?", he gently whispered in your ear.

"Maybe...", you admitted between your lusty moans.

"I knew it.", he smirked, "Couldn't quite believe it though..."

"Hmm..", you hummed as he continued his skillful work with his fingers, beaming you into another dimension of reality.

While listening to your ravishing moans he kept on talking, "My best friend is a dirty slut. Unbelievable. But I'd be lying if I said i didn't think about you every time I wanked.", he winked at you with a dirty smile, roughly jabbing another finger inside your dripping wet pussy.

"Matty, I... I think I...", you stammered, having difficulties to breathe.

"Yes baby, cum for me, please", he permitted, but you were already collapsing in heated pleasure as you eventually broke the eye contact, letting your head fall onto his chest, gasping for air.

With his free arm, he hugged you, pressing your body tightly to his own. He gave you some time to calm down while you were catching your breath, before he slowly pulled out his fingers, bringing them up to your mouth, so you could lick them clean. "If that was part of your phantasies too...then...", he shook his head with a radiant smile on his face while you seemingly enjoyed sucking your juice from his elegant guitar hands, "...like... who are you? And what have you done to my best friend?"

"Shut up, Healy!", you laughed after letting go of his fingers, "and cuddle me!"

You snuggled yourself into his loving embrace, but Matty had other plans....

"Nah... later, love.", he told you with hungry eyes, "I'm not done with you yet."

Part 2

#matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy fic #matty healy smut #matty the 1975 #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #fanfiction #fanfics #smut #the 1975 smut #matty x reader #matty healy fanfiction #imagine #matty healy imagine #guitar #guitar hands

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piratesfromspace · 11 months ago

Text

Night Blue (Price x Reader)

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Price

Rated: Mature

Word count: 3k

Summary: "Between two containers, he sees the target, bloodied and tied up to the floor." or when Price comes to your rescue.

Note: I'm not the author of this fic, it is actually a Christmas gift from my boyfriend (yes I have the best boyfriend ever)! He writes for a living and has yet to dip his toes in fanfic territories, but I think he did fantastic and was very good at writing with the female gaze in mind. His take on Price has me drooling. He used the codename Rain, but note this is not part of the Rain Universe. Please let him know in the comment what you think of his first CoD fanfic!

Content: military!fem!reader, Reader has blue eyes but no body description other than that, mention of food & alcohol, rescue mission, implied torture, competency kink, typical level of violence

Muffled voices. Metallic clinking. Crowded interior. This could be your next mission. Or the last one. But it isn’t. It’s only a date. Well, Only. If only “only” could be only. It isn’t. It’s been years. You know him. This isn’t a first. But somehow, your heart is racing. It’s a fancy restaurant, after all. In the middle of good old London. He always had great taste, if not old-fashioned. But he’s late. He’s always late. You never understood that. How could someone that precise on the field be this messy in civvy street? Where the heck is he?

Did he try to take the tube? Again? He can’t do that. Not anymore. Not after what happened the last time 141 was deployed in London. He should be in a cab right now, on his way, with a big, innocent grin on his face. At least, you hope he is. You don’t want to drink this expensive bottle alone. Spend the night by yourself. Fall asleep in a cold bed.

“Don’t let me down, Bravo 6.”

You said it aloud with a sigh. Someone answers.

“Oh, you know I won’t, darling.”

He’s here. Where did he come from? Doesn’t matter. His noise discipline is on point. That’s something he brings from the field. Ever so stealthy, he takes the chair before you and says “hi” in his thick accent. Thick as his moustache. What’s the name again? Mutton chops or something. He’s so damn proud of it. It’s cute. You noticed he trimmed it for the occasion and probably added some kind of oil to it. You smell it from here. An odd but somewhat comforting smell. Like a cosy fireplace or a warmish glass of Scotch. You wonder if your sheets will smell like that in the morning. He’s trying to say something, but you're already lost in the thought. Split seconds where you don’t listen, only think about those infamous mutton chops climbing your legs. Focus, damn it. What is he wearing? A suit? That’s strange. Well, you always thought anything besides a loaded chest rig looked weird on him. Wait, no. That’s not true. He wears jumpers and cardigans quite nicely. You always pictured him as an old British gentleman. A sailor embarking on a frail boat. Or a hunter walking to a black forest. Something like that. Old-fashioned indeed. It’s an acquired taste.

So you talk. Like a lot. Spend time in each other’s eyes. Those grey-blue marbles, in which you see more than what is said. The joy of the moment, of being here, yes. But also the sadness, the pain. What is supposedly left behind, somewhere on a desolated field, and yet always comes back to scratch those eyes. It’s okay. You have the same. That’s why it’s working. But you remember. You remember how bright, much brighter, these eyes were the first time you saw them.

TEN YEARS AGO

Black and white. Night and snow. Somewhere in Northern Europe, the winter wind sweeps the clouds across the sky and dusts the flakes off the trees. But two bushes remain still. Until they don’t. All ghillied up, two operators crawl in powder snow. They talk as loud as the wind allows them to.

“Follow me and keep low, lieutenant. Target’s right ahead.”

“Solid copy.”

Captain MacMillan leads the way in near-total silence. His second in command, Lieutenant John Price, tries to keep up. He misses the warmth of the base. Of a pub. Of anything warmer than this icy desert at this point. But he needs to stay focused. They’re deep into enemy territory, trying to retrieve an ally he only knows by reputation. A track record he admires. So he wonders. What happened? A trap? A mistake? Perhaps it’s a warning in disguise. It goes to show that no one is ever too good to get caught. To get killed.

Listen to the captain. Do what the captain says, his head repeats. Enough to forget his instincts or the will to think for himself. Violence and timing. Once you’re on the field, only these two matter. They don’t require you to think. Only to act, and act at the right moment. Old man MacMillan told him so. And despite his age, Alpha Six is teaching him a lesson. The captain moves like a damn ghost. The cold doesn’t seem to bother him. It’s almost like the snow melts around him so he can look like a real bush. The deadliest bush in the country, probably.

“It’s a goddamn convention around here, John.”

Price looks down. The warehouse and its surroundings are barely lit, but using thermal goggles, he can already count twelve guns guarding the target, plus three engineers working on an Infantry Fighting Vehicle. Guards, not soldiers. The new plague of the free world: PMCs. Former soldiers, swapping insignias for fatter paychecks. Russian, probably. He hears them talking through the wind. Or maybe French. They hire all across Europe, after all. The captain’s accent brings him back to Scotland.

“We could wait for them to break off, but that’d be playing with the target’s life, and we’d probably freeze our asses to death… There’s only one way to do this, innit?”

“Right. Care for a suggestion, captain?”

“I’m all hears, lieutenant.”

“That IFV. Maybe it is operational. Maybe it isn’t. I don’t want to find out. We take it down first. C4 should do the trick. They hear the boom. We split. You dance, I get inside. Once the target’s identity is confirmed, I take the long trek home through the forest, and meet you at LZ.”

“You forget your rank, lieutenant. Why should I be the one dancing, John?”

“With all due respect captain, you forget your back. I’m sure the target’s a big boy. Unless you’re ready for the fireman carry of your life, you let me do it. If you hurt yourself, who will put those Christmas lights on the tree? Your wife will never forgive me…”

“Alright John, lead the way.”

They don’t need their ghillies anymore. The bushes become men. They check their weapons. Price is about to take point when MacMillan nudges him. His fatherly smile almost lights the dark.

“The next time you bring my wife into this kid, you’re going down.”

“Roger that, captain.”

One of the engineers went for a cigarette. Lord bless the smokers. They all leave their post, eventually. Even when they don’t, that smoke will shake their focus. Move fingers away from triggers, grenades, alarms. Enjoy that last cigarette, lad. This smoke’s about to kill you faster than lung cancer. MacMillan jumps from the white shadows, arms instantly locked on his prey. His combat knife bites. Screams die in the engineer’s throat. Blood bubbles explode. The wind covers almost everything. The fluff of the snow takes care of the rest.

Words come to them, though, and both captain and lieutenant freeze instantly. Their weapons are up, ready to strike. But they don’t want to fight. Not here, not now. More words. Price is trying to make sense of them, but he skipped too many classes for that. Damn you and your bad boy attitude, he thinks, until he hears a laugh. The words are repeated, but not as a question. That delivery transcends all languages. It’s a joke. Tension goes down, but MacMillan is already one step ahead.

Pripyat. Urzikstan. Many more. Price has fought next to the captain since he joined the SAS. It’s a weird thing, but by now, he probably knows him better than friends. Better than family. And it shows. They don’t have to speak, but that’s always been a requirement on the field. What’s more impressive is they don’t have to sign full sentences either. They’ve experienced enough settings and parameters to understand how the situation will eventually play out. So they commit to the action, together, before the scenario can even start. Like two polished pieces of the same high-precision clock, they act as one to define time itself.

“Together”, he signs.

For the two engineers, it’s time to die. Focused on the scratched hull of their IFV, these poor bastards never see it coming. A .45 ACP bullet penetrates their skulls at subsonic speed and settles down in their brains, avoiding any ricochet on the armoured surface of the vehicle. They climb on top of the tank. Price removes the bodies to find a hatch while MacMillan gets a block of C4 ready. Except for the wind, the place is silent. Which means no one knows they’re here. Good. But it could also mean the target is dead by now. The same thought has crossed the captain’s mind. He suddenly acts faster, despite the gloves and the numbed fingers they’re supposed to protect. Price follows and places the C4 inside the IFV, next to what he remembers to be a fuel tank.

About ninety-two seconds later, John learns his memories are correct. From the safety of distance, MacMillan has blown the IFV straight to hell in one glorious explosion. But it only takes about twenty more seconds for the PMC to react, learns Price on his watch. And that’s bad news. They’re still sharp. Drilled. Ready to respond. And they do. John counts half of them spreading out of the warehouse through truck gates and access doors. Their plan is sound. They’re looking out, trying to nullify the effect of surprise with a solid assessment of who or what is outside.

And it’s only one man, but he gives them a round for their money. MacMillan uses every trick in the book and every weapon he carries to make them think there’s a whole squad hunting for them behind the snow, between those big black trees. And they fall for it. At least one of the mercenaries does, and chooses to provide firing support from the door he was supposed to shut behind his comrades.

John sees the opportunity immediately. Timing. In just a few rounds, the mercenary will have to reload. Or maybe he will suddenly realise the door is still open and stop firing. An empty mag hits the floor, and Price jumps out of cover. Violence. He grabs the mercenary’s weapon with one hand while the other secures the kill. The bastard’s heavy, and the thump of his fall makes a lot of noise. Silenced handgun raised, Price waits for a moment, scanning the entry corridor for potential targets. But no one comes. More words, inside. More shots, outside. Chaos is settling in, everywhere.

Another opportunity, then. Price presses on, checking his corners with the precision of a machine. A door opens to his right. Two mercs, rushing out of a room to help their comrades overwhelmed by MacMillan’s tactics. John is almost as surprised as they are, but not quite. Timing. They’re too fast, and likely to fire from the hip. Violence. He empties his mag on the two targets. One mercenary drops suddenly, like a puppet cut from its strings. The other falls, but slowly. His vest caught the heat. If he’s good, there’s a chance he might go for a sidearm, or a knife. No time to reload then. Price runs and then falls on his knees to finish his target with a clean cut from his combat blade. The bastard knows death is coming, but he’s not ready to embrace it just yet. His arms move in a life-or-death reflex, and Price is stopped a few centimetres away from a kill. There’s no timing anymore. Only violence, a test of raw strength. John tries to stab the merc down the neck. The poor guy can’t do anything but buy some time, and wait a few seconds for someone to go check the corridor. But no one comes for him. Only death, in the form of a straight silver blade slowly piercing his throat.

Rolling to the side, Price suddenly remembers to breathe. Staying on his back, he reloads his weapon without thinking, his two eyes locked on the door the mercs have opened seconds prior. He counts. One when he entered. Two in the corridor. With half of them still outside fighting MacMillan, that’s two mercenaries unaccounted for. Usually, it is the wounded, the insecure or the frightened you leave behind. But when it comes to target protection, it’s the other way around. Your last wall of defence is also the toughest. The big guns stay with the target until the end. If Price wasn’t so actively trying not to think, maybe he would have remembered that.

He enters the room. More like a hangar. It’s dark. Only the moon and distant muzzle flashes provide some light through large, rectangular windows. Timing? Put the night vision set on, find the bastards, and apply a bit of violence. Wait. Price holds on to his set. Did someone cut the power? It could be MacMillan toying with them. But more likely, the mercs have figured their opponents are properly equipped. And now, they’re just waiting for Price to put his night vision on. They want him to rely on the tool, for there’s no faster way to blind a man than putting the power back at the right moment. So Price throws the night vision set away, into the room. Five thousand quid of government-issued tech crash on the industrial floor. One second. Two seconds. The light goes back and the night vision set dies a second time, broken apart by crossfire.

The shots from the right probably came from that little accounting office Price sees through a piece of shattered glass. He resists the urge to throw a grenade, that could threaten the target’s life. His back on the wall, he’s getting closer to the office. More words. They come from the left. These mercs can’t shut up to save their lives. What is it this time? There’s a trace of panic in the sentences. They’re probably asking for reinforcements, but there’s a hell lot of static on the other end of the line. MacMillan has done his part, and there’s no military base around anyway. In typical Laswell fashion, Kate had saved the only piece of good news for the end of her briefing, Price remembers. So good luck with that, lad. But keep talking. The echo allows John to move closer and closer to his next kill. Until the warehouse is silent again. Until something inside the office decides to move.

It’s a lock. Inside the door, it jiggles enough for Price to notice someone’s about to leave the office. He waits for the final click to bash the gate. It arrives a split-second later, and John kicks the door like his dad used to kick rugby balls on Sunday mornings. Wood breaks. Bones follow. Price puts another bullet in another skull. It happens so fast the merc can’t even fight or scream. But his finger was already on the trigger, so his assault rifle yelled for him. The burst catches price off-guard. Bullets pound his plate and the walls alike. He falls.

When the kick finally fades, the world is backwards. Literally. Between two containers, he sees the target, bloodied and tied up to the floor. Or is it the ceiling? He’s not sure anymore. His ears are buzzing. His chest is compressed by the impact. There’s no gun in his hands. He wants to rise but he can’t. Someone comes. Someone that’s not MacMillan. Price rolls from back to belly. The world looks finally looks right again. Well, right as it can be when you’re crawling unarmed in the face of the Grim Reaper.

His weapon raised, the last merc stops next to the target and fires. Not rounds, but words. More words. Insults, probably. Weirdly, they’re not aimed at Price. They’re for whoever is still under the same black hood they always put on prisoners. She answers, proudly, in their language.

Wait, she?

Gunshots. They come from outside, from the forest. Surprised, the last merc tries to sneak a look between the crates. Price gathers the little strength he has left to look for a weapon. But he’s still dizzy. A hippo with a full belly would be faster. He looks up, facing death with both eyes open. Only death doesn’t come for him. The target is free. She climbs on the mercenary like a damn spider, using her legs to maintain the bastard’s weapon against his chest while she strangles him with the little piece of plastic tying her two hands. John finally finds his sidearm. He wants to help her. He wants to shoot. But SAS lieutenant John Price is not so sure of his aim anymore. So he looks, and eventually, the mercenary crumbles.

Price now moves a bit faster and a bit closer. The target’s still fighting. But her prey is long dead. There’s no breathing left in him. His neck is broken. So broken that little piece of plastic is slowly severing head from body. And yet she fights, furiously. Moving slowly, talking even slower, he tries to calm her down. She releases her grip on the dead mercenary. Describing his every move out loud, John carefully guides his blade between her two hands and next to her neck. Underneath the bruises and the cuts, she’s a woman alright. Their eyes locked. Back to the mission.

“Lieutenant John Price, British SAS. I need your codename, fast.”

“Why are you here? I had it under control!”

Her voice is confident. Not a single taint of doubt in it. Price chuckles.

“I’m not sure I see it that way, darling. Now, give me your codename so I can get you out of here.”

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

Again. Confident. She’s looking at the half-decapitated mercenary with disdain, not disgust. She killed before. In more ways than one. More brutal ways.

“I had it under control.”

Her time to chuckle. She pauses. Takes one good look at him. That sort of threatening gaze birds of prey will give you if you happen to drive through their land. She measures. Judges. And weirdly enough, the whole thing ends with a sight smile.

“Codename’s Rain. Nice to meet you, lieutenant. Now, can a lady get a proper extraction, or what?”

“Sure thing, ma’am. Follow me.”

They grab some gear and step out of the warehouse. Outside, the night is silent again. The moon shines on the black of the trees. The white of the snow. The red of the dead bodies.

And the blue of their eyes.

#price x reader #cod fanfiction #captain price x reader #jonathan price #captain john price #john price x reader #captain price imagine #captain price #captain price fanfic #search and rescue #light angst #hurt/comfort #fem reader

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therabbitthatpostthings · 8 months ago

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Okay let’s talk about Murder Drones.

SPOILERS FOR EP 7 LIKE A LOT LIKE ALL OF IT. MURDER DRONES SPOILERS HERE

Let’s start with the stuff I was right about.

Damn you tumblr and your limited image count

Tessa is Cyn/Absolute Solver:

I should not have been as happy about that scene as I was but I felt vindicated. Amongst my friend group everyone was thinking Tessa was the last human or working with Cyn/AS. Not me! I knew that little freak was in there and I’m so happy I was right. I also noticed that when Tessa is scanned she is never registered as a human.

(In order: Doll, Uzi, The Sentinel)

Also she is just dismissive and rude to her supposed “friends”. She tells Uzi not to date “her robot”, blindly thought V and N would just follow her despite the “company” stranding them and of course orders J to mind her ship. Not to mention telling Uzi to wait in the box while her and N take care of everything else.

Someone else mentioned that Tessa despite being way older now should be as tall as her mother was but yet she is still the same height as N and can lift him. Disassembly Bots are a lot heavier than Worker Drones.

Edit: Tessa also understands Doll. It makes sense of the Drones too but Tessa (possibly American with a British accent cause her parents are posh posers) Elliot probably doesn’t know Russian.

Cyn made the Disassembly Drones:

Nori straight up confirms this so not surprised. Ep5 showed Cyn/AS was capable of resetting them in the mansion. Also in the first episode when N is restarted first by Uzi and then J, it showed that the system admin is Cyn and not JCJensen. We see it briefly in Ep5 before Uzi becomes the System Admin. This is also shown when Cyn/AS tries to reboot N by bringing back his memories but can’t.

This also leads me to think that their memories are erased from planet to planet. We know that there are plenty of disassembly bots but only J, N and V remain. I do think it would be a stretch to say that every bot is just a clone of these three. My point is, they have destroyed other planets. J and N may not be as aware as V is but this has taken a toll on all of them. My main reasoning behind this is that in N’s flashback we see a world about to be destroyed. Drones and humans are being slaughtered. I think Cyn/AS sends bots to the world and when the world implodes she just reboots them to a new server body. We know that “effective drones were cloned more”. Makes V statement more accurate, Cyn/AS will keep doing the same horrors in as many bodies as she needs to get what she wants.

Edit: this point will not completely inaccurate does imply that they have cleared other planets. We could easily be only talking about Earth. Unlike Copper 9 the earth is well…the EARTH. Cyn’s backups of N, J and V could have easily been destroyed in the fight to clear out the earth, hence why those three have so many clones ready to go. All we know is that JCJenson did have other colonies and the Earth is destroyed. Nothing says that Disassembly Drones have gotten to those planets yet or at all.

Onto the other stuff now.

Absolute Solver = Vampirism

The disassembly drones have always had the allusion to vampires (N sleeps upside down, can’t be in the sun, need for oil, etc). I didnt think it would take a somewhat literal aspect. So we know that Absolute Solver program can create organic material but we didn’t question the how. When I posted yesterday about the oil vs “not oil”, after rewatching it on my TV I can confidently say, It’s not oil. It’s blood.

So Solver needs blood to make organic material which is why Solver infected bots can bleed. Something we kinda knew when N regrew his head and Alice dissecting Disassembly Drones. And you know, Solver straight up saying “Let’s eat!”.

Which explains why Cyn/AS took over Tessa. A self sufficient, self-feeding, suit that would keep her safe on Cooper 9. Also to access the database to get the list of infected drones.

Edit: I forgot to mention that Cyn/AS literally eats Doll’s core. Her HEART.

I also meant that AS infected Drones and Disassembly Drones don’t ONLY need Oil. They (Uzi, N, V, J, Doll, Cyn/AS) need and/or consum both.

There is no saving Cyn

Yeah she’s gone. At this point the only thing keeping Cyn alive would be the Solver, if she she is alive. The fact that all of Solver’s admin goes in between absolutesolver_ and _cyn means that they are one and the same by now. Not really a theory just something I’ve been thinking on.

Uzi and N

He is so lame your honor I love him. I truly believe they’ve been “dating” since post-prom. Dating in a way that neither of them realized was dating. EP6 would have been the most definitive showing of that. I also believe V knew and said nothing.

These fucking losers I love them so much:

Thanks to Khan saying Uzi’s interest include “cannibalism and Nightcore”, it’s fair to assume Nori was still eating people/oil before she got “killed”.

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rightshoeonleftfoot · 8 months ago

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How the flowers bloom

Pairing: Marius "Jäger" Streicher x GN!reader

Summary: This is part 1 of my smitten!Jäger x oblivious!reader. Reader has a mental breakdown and Jäger helps you feel better.

Warning: Slight warning, reader has a big breakdown questioning their life. Apart from that it's all fluff. This series is a slow burn (somewhat lol).

Words: 2.3k

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

This not proofread! Criticism is welcome and encouraged. I also do take requests for this fic :)

Today feels dull. Work takes longer than usual, your coworkers' voices grate your nerves more than usual. You have less patience for the customers yelling at you, less tolerance when your boss yells at you for the nth time to do something you haven't had the time for yet. After all, she gave you a never ending list of tasks to do, from mundane to tedious. You were getting to it.

Now, your boss asks you to be at the cash register, whilst also berating you for not going through the to-do list she gave you fast enough. The vase is filling up, one drop at a time. Now, you’re standing at the cash register trying to keep it together. It's excruciating, smiling at the customers like the stress of your job isn't starting to weigh on you.

Your vision starts to get blurry as you speak to the customer. It's been five years and you're still just an assistant in the bakery. You wanted to start your own business. Now here you are, acting as some sous-chef for an ungrateful baker, not a step closer to having your own bakery. What am I doing with my life? The thought rings loudly in your head, as a drop of water falls on the receipt you were gonna hand the woman.

You look down at it for a second, as more droplets fall on the receipt. The vase has overflown, and you're crying. The realization hits you as you wipe the tears off your cheeks and smile at the woman awkwardly.

"I'm so sorry." You chuckle in hopes of making the awkwardness of the situation go away. The lady surprisingly doesn't seem to take it badly. Instead, she looks almost.. concerned. "It's okay love. Everyone needs time off every once in a while." Her british accent is thick, yet it really seems like she cares. You nod in agreement and print out another receipt for her before handing it to her and heading to the break room.

You swallow the lump in your throat, mentally preparing to talk to your boss. You've decided, you're going home. You finally spot your boss, and she stares you down. Her gaze is piercing, like she's reading your every move.

"What the fuck are you doing back here? You're supposed to be out front." Her arms are crossed over her chest. An uncomfortable silence settles as you get the courage to speak up. "I'm heading home. I'm taking time off for the rest of the day." Your boss's face hardens, though she notices your teary eyes and she sighs. "Fine, take the rest of the day off. I don't need you today anyway." She doesn't seem genuine as she storms out of the break room, going to take care of the customers waiting for their order.

You pack your stuff up, almost relieved to be going home. Though the stress of losing your job seems to hit you as you put on your shoes to leave. It's a good paying job after all, right? The only downside is it's not exactly what you want to do for the rest of your life, but it's better than nothing you suppose. You sigh as you step out of the break room, the tears won't stop flowing. It's a never ending stream as you sniffle quietly, trying to bring the least amount of attention to yourself.

You glance at the line as you leave the bakery. It's the lunch rush, the line goes out the door. As you go to open the door to leave, you make eye contact with a customer. A smile appears on the man's face. You know him. He excuses himself from the front of the line and walks quickly towards you, before trapping you in a tight hug.

"Marius, wha- why are you here?" Your tone is laced with laughter as his hug lengthens. He doesn't answer for a few seconds, choosing to hold you in his arms a bit longer. He finally pulls back, putting his hands on each side of your arms. He's ecstatic to see you and it shows. "My op ended early, things got done a lot quicker than we expected." His smile falters a little when he sees your puffy eyes and red cheeks.

"Herzblatt, what happened? Are you crying?" The worry in his tone is obvious. He leans forward, as though to get a better look at your face to make sure you aren't injured. He backs off quickly, his cheeks now tinted red. What was he even trying to do? Confusion takes over as you're not quite sure why he reacted like that. He quickly reaches for a tissue in his pocket to hand you. "I'm okay Marius." You try to reassure him, chuckling to ease some of his worry.

He completely disregards your comment about being okay. "Did someone hurt you?" Instead of handing you the tissue, he goes to wipe off the tears off your cheeks himself. However, he stops himself and awkwardly looks away before handing you the tissue. You take the tissue from his hand, wiping your tears away. "Thanks." You take a deep breath. "No one did this, I'm just.. stressed." You feel a bit bad, complaining about your stressful job to a man who defends people's lives for a living.

"You were heading home, right? Why don't I make you dinner?" Marius proposes confidently. He seems almost too excited to be at your house again. He's fiddling with his belt loop on his pants, you notice he looks almost.. nervous. Granted, he's been like that around you for a bit, you just kind of assume it's how he is. "I couldn't ask that of you, I'd feel bad taking up your time like that." You really just feel like you're taking up space. Not that you don't want to spend time with him, you just don't want to feel like you're bothering him.

His confidence falters ever so slightly. He feels a bit rejected, almost like you're making an excuse to let him down easy. "Well, I don't have anything else to do and uhm, I missed you so..." He looks away awkwardly for a second, before looking back at you and smiling confidently once again. His cheeks seem a bit more flushed than usual. "Okay, yeah, if you're really okay with it, it'd be really nice." You feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. It's nice to have a friend who cares.

"I missed you too, by the way. Let's go." You sniffle as you wipe the last of your tears. His heart flutters at your words. Marius puts his hand out for you to take, but you don't notice as you've already started to walk. He quickly follows you, walking side by side with you.

The walk back to your house is... animated to say the least. Marius has a lot of energy, and a lot to talk about. The entire time you have your hands tucked away in your pockets, to Marius' great disappointment. He's talking your ear off about stuff he's recently watched and read, and he never seems to run out of talking material. His laugh is contagious, and you find yourself forgetting about all the stressful things that happened today.

You finally get back to your house and open the door for him. You take off your shoes and lock the door behind you both. He takes off his shoes and heads to the kitchen, going over to your fridge and opening it with you hot on his trail. You sneak behind him, peeking above his shoulder to see what he's looking at. "What do you want me to make for you, Schatzi?" His tone wavers a bit due to your proximity. He starts to pick stuff up from the fridge and puts it back in an effort to distract himself from you.

"Pasta would be nice." You mumbled, your hand coming to rest on his side to stabilize yourself as you look at what you have in your fridge with him. He freezes, the thoughts in his brain becoming a bit scrambled. "I uhm, I suppose I could." His tone was a bit hesitant as he looked back at you, not realizing just how close you were to him. He looked away immediately, taking a few things out of the fridge and walking away from you and towards the counter.

Marius gets to work. He seems to know what to make with what you have. He's expertly navigating your kitchen, he knows exactly where everything is. You get out of his way, resorting to watching him cook. You're leaning on the counter, looking at his every move, not saying a word. Then, he drops a glass and freezes. He's never done that before. Especially not around you.

"Scheiße." He mumbles under his breath. He's avoiding your gaze, he seems embarrassed. "It's okay, I got it." You stand up straight and head over to the mess he made to clean it up. His palms are sweaty as he tries to help you clean the mess, though he seems to keep dropping everything. You clean up the raw egg that fell on the floor, but accidentally cut yourself on the glass. "Tsk, shit." Marius immediately grabs your hand to look at the cut. He inspects your cut and helps you up.

"Let's get this cleaned up, Liebling." He leads you to the washroom but you stop him. You never understand the names he gives you, you never bother to ask since they seem innocent enough. "I'm okay, Marius. I just need to rinse it." You smile reassuringly at him, and he seems to relax, his grip on your hand loosening. He doubles down regardless. "No, I don't want any glass in your cut." He pulls you towards him and into the washroom.

He drags you over to the sink, and cleans your wound for you. His hands are sweaty and you can feel it. He's nervous, but it's nothing out of the ordinary so you don't question it. You lean towards him to see what he was doing better. He's cleaning it up, putting your hand under warm water, rinsing your cut to make sure there's no glass. He puts some polysporin on it and covers it with a bandaid, making sure it's nice and snug. He finally looks up to see you. "There, it's all-" He stops talking abruptly as his eyes meet yours.

You're confused as to why he stopped talking. His face is very close to yours, but it's not bothering you, you're usually this close to him. He clears his throat and looks away. "Uhm, yeah, it's cleaned and you're good to go." He smiles awkwardly, and leaves to go back to the kitchen to finish making you food. You can't deny his help is making all your stress vanish.

You walk back into the kitchen, and smile when you notice he cleaned up the glass. "Marius." You call out to him as he turns on the stove to make the sauce. "Ja?" He doesn't turn to look at you. "Thank you for helping me with all of this." You sit at the counter realizing he'd put his sleeves up to his elbows now. "Any time, do you wanna talk about what's bothering you?" You contemplate it for a second before speaking. "I don't like my work." Marius is stunned for a second as he looks at you.

"I thought you loved baking?" He checked the sauce before leaning over the counter to pay more attention to you. "Well, yeah. I just-" You sigh, trying to find your words. "I want to have my own bakery, you know? I'm tired of being some- some sous chef to my boss." You clench your fists. "She treats me like shit, Marius. I've been there for five years and she's not any closer to letting me have a little bit of freedom when it comes to designing the menu."

Marius seems to think for a second. "Why don't you take out a loan? I'll help you find a good spot for your bakery, I can help with the renovation. You'll make that money back quickly." His positive nature is contagious. "You think I could do it?" You don't want to get into debt, it's worrying. "You have the experience and the passion. Besides, I can be your taste tester, ja?" He smiles, trying to lighten the mood. "But for now, focus on getting food and relaxing, Schatzi. I can set something up on the TV for us."

You nod, feeling relieved to have someone there for you. He focuses back on making you a good meal, occasionally spilling some things and bumping into dining chairs and counters as he navigates the kitchen. After a few minutes, he plates the food and presents it to you. Pomodoro pasta, and it looks mouthwatering. "Living room?" He asks as he holds both bowls in his hands, looking at you eagerly.

"Yeah." You hurry to your living room, sitting on the couch, and he puts the pasta bowls on the coffee table. Before you can grab the remote to turn on the TV, he snags it from you. He sits on the couch next to you and sets up a documentary on quantum computers. You lean back on the couch, leaning into him since he's so warm. He freezes but doesn't move. As you both watch and eat, you're hit with a strange sense of calmness.

You focus on the documentary, and though you don't understand everything, you don't mind. He loves explaining it to you anyway. You, however, never notice all the looks he gives you to make absolutely sure you like what you're watching. After all, he'd give you the world if you'd only just accept it.

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urgardenandmine · 2 months ago

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new acquaintances ✧ - n. scratch

summary: greendale isn't what it all seems, now is it? genre: fluff (kinda...)/action *WARNING: THERE IS A MENTION OF BLOOD A BIT SO IF THAT IS NOT YOUR VIBE, SCROLL pairing: m!reader x nicholas scratch word count: 2.3K

rushing through the woods, you couldn’t catch your breath.

the moon was at it’s highest it’s ever been, practically blanketing the world in seeming never ending moonlight. the stars lit the sky like flickering light bulbs that were just almost dying out. you couldn’t tell if it was due to the clouds or just the tears in your eyes as you were rushing past the trees but being continuously smacked with leaves and branches that you couldn’t register.

your senses were practically numb. you had lost both shoes way before you were making it to god knows where. your feet were being punctured from the small thorns, sharp twigs and bramble bushes you’ve been running on and through. your eyes were watering nonstop due to the feeling of fear overflowing from you. even wiping them with your battered sleeves weren’t helpful considering you couldn’t tell if these would be your last moments on earth or not. your ears were ringing from the hard cardio you were doing (and also from the fact you were tossed around earlier by some people who said they were just “missionaries”).

as sweat dropped down your face, it trickled in with the blood from the cut on your head. some of it had gotten into your mouth, practically hydrating you. it was horrible but what could you really do in this situation? as much as you hated the taste of salty and metallic liquid, you didn’t have the time to stop and just drink some nasty water in the woods.

hearing the crackle of branches behind you, you pushed forward till you fell flat on your face.

you groaned and grunted, crying as you gripped the ground beneath you and yelled. the dirt under you was cooling and soft enough to basically be a resting place for you. you turned onto your back, heaving and huffing, feeling that you were about to barf from running almost what you thought was a million miles when in reality, it was probably only six. lifting your head up and angling it back, your eyes saw about almost a hundred acres of more trees. slowly lowering your head, you gulped and sighed.

slowly closing your eyes, you heard the leaves atop of your head crunch. you immediately rolled onto your side, using your weak arms to prop yourself up as you stared into the face of a blonde woman. she was covered in a cute and flowy navy blue dress that was patterned in dark ruby red and almost darked yellow flowers. it was complemented with a gray cardigan. her bottoms were black heel boots, not an exaggerated heel but something to give her some height. her hair was somewhat like a bob yet curled slightly.

“oh my! what are you doing here, darling?” she questioned anxiously, helping you up. slowly climbing up by holding onto her hands tightly, the breeze picked up as you whimpered and looked around hurriedly. looking past the woman was now a stone building, making you furrow your eyebrows and more confused but you were in a time crunch.

“darling?” she asked, now noticing her british accent as she looked at you. you shook your head to get out of your trance of wondering why and how this random building was here but that didn’t matter.

“w-we need to go! there’s people after me and i can’t explain but please!” you begged, stuttering and shaking as your legs were sore. you were shaking like a newborn baby deer.

you saw her green orbs examining you, as she pursed her lips and nodded. she wrapped her arm around yours and helped you limp towards the doors while whispering small “i got you’s.”

making your way towards the rustic walnut doors, she grabbed the black outward curved handle and pushed the door open. your head began to swing as you didn’t have any energy left in you to even power through and tell her the dangers you were facing. as your head hung low, you saw the designs of the floor, seeing geometric shapes on it. the lighting in the building was not the best, considering most of the lights were yellow and some lamps were covered in red shades. in the center of the building was the statue of a woman, or three?

she was a stone statue with three faces. behind her was a tree. one face was a woman that looked like a young adult, wearing a crown of what seems to be leaves, the center being an upside down waning moon. the second was a middle aged woman, wearing the same style of robe as the previous. her crown was almost similar, except instead of leaves, she had almost crosses, spread equidistant from one another. in the center of her crown was an upside down waxing moon. the last woman seemed to look more elderly, as her design depicted wrinkles under her eyes and there was an aura that exuded from her. her crown was more decorated than the other two. in the center was what appeared to be the full moon, while protruding on both sides were small flowers. all three women had their right hand above their stomachs, while the left was under. it was almost as if they were caressing their wombs like a mother would.

as you two staggered towards what was hopefully a place to rest, you saw the faces of now almost a dozen, maybe even more, kids who looked like you. you saw them whispering, hoping that whoever ran this “establishment” didn’t immediately kick you out for getting blood all over their floors. feeling the cold marble touch your wounded feet was almost as if you touched ice for too long. rather than being cooling, it burned like you were wading through a river of rubbing alcohol.

you both were now in a hall that was decorated in what seemed to be solely black wallpaper that had flowers on them. the walls had some art pieces but they were odd. they depicted almost hell-ish landscapes but i mean if that was the vibe then they obviously did a great job. as you both turned a corner, you pushed past two doors as you saw three bodies in what appeared to be an office.

“i’m telling you, i-” the words emanating from the other woman’s husky voice was cut short by the sudden rushing.

the blonde woman had helped you make your way towards a small burgundy satin victorian couch, unlinking her arm from yours as she helped you down gently. she reached for a small dark brown throw pillow, propping it under your head, brushing away your strands of [h/c] hair. she made sure not to brush the cut you had on your [s/c] temple. she looked towards the other’s in the room, who were immediately gathering around you as you tried to catch your breath.

“who did this?” the husky voiced woman demanded. she wore a dark navy pant suit that had a lace collar layered over it. her ginger hair was straight down, yet somewhat curled like the blonde’s. she also had some hair covering part of her forehead yet not reaching her eyes, which were a piercing blue green.

next to her on her right was a tall dark skinned man, who was dressed in what was assumed to be an almost 1980’s fashion. he was dressed in a tan corduroy jacket, underneath a simple black graphic tee and washed out bell bottom jeans. though he was somewhat nice to look at, there was someone else who caught your eye past your disheveled hair.

on her left stood a built man (well, teenager). he was dressed in a greaser’s outfit. he was dressed in almost all black, his top being a black leather jacket with the smallest pop of color from under his sheer red shirt. his bottoms were baggy black jeans and he had on leather boots. his hair was dark black, yet the light made it lighter than you expected. his dark brown eyes were scanning your body.

“i just found them like this, zelds.” the blonde worriedly informed, trying to intake all the wounds you were showing. the ginger haired woman stepped forward. hearing her name made her seem as if she was more learned than the others. something about her radiated command and leadership. looking at the blonde woman, she radiated comfort and almost literal warmth.

“child, who did this?” the woman, zelds, asked in a hushed yet angered voice. she was almost maternal yet she had no idea who you were.

you gulped, clutching your stomach as you could feel the bruise from earlier almost growing rapidly. you cleared your throat, even though you knew the words would come out hoarse.

“i d-don’t know,” you pushed out, “all i know is that they are coming and they won’t leave till i die.”

as you spoke the last word, tears began to form in your [e/c] eyes. the boy in leather kneeled down, reaching your eye level as he held onto your hand. he wiped away the dropped tear as he slowly formed a soft smile.

“you won’t die today, got it?” he reassured softly. you chuckled softly, which soon erupted into a cough but it made you feel a bit comfortable. how can a very handsome man say that to someone who was barefoot and practically battered down. the others in the room caught the small moment you both shared, exchanging looks but soon returning back to the matter at hand.

“did you happen to catch their names?” the tan jacketed man asked. you shrugged slightly, wiping your eyes as you slowly sat yourself up.

“i don’t remember but they sounded like…biblical? like an arathmiel or whatever thing is religious.” you told the rest.

looking at them all, they exchanged a look of something that seemed to be worry, but more of determination. the ginger hair woman clenched her fists, looking at the two beside her.

“hilda, tell the students that we need to begin an extermination process. ambrose, with me.” she directed. your eyes widened at the immediate need to take action after you had told them that small bit of information. turning her attention to the two of you, she cleared her throat.

“nicholas,” the boy in black looked up, “tend to them.” she ordered. the boy who was still holding your hand, nicholas, nodded as he locked eyes with you. even though you practically had no blood in you, you felt your cheeks flush to a soft rosy color. having noticed, he smirked and slowly linked your arms together. he helped you up, slowly following behind the pair who was making their ways towards the exit/entrance.

as you all made your ways towards the doors, they appeared to fly open before the pant suited woman had reached them. peering over her shoulder from behind, you saw the two assailants who had attacked you in your simple and somewhat “owned” apartment.

“hello, witch.” the bulkier assailant spat. his words were laced with venom. he was dressed in a navy blue sweater, with a dress shirt collar peeking from behind. his pants seemed to look like black slacks, but that wasn’t so important to you when you were trying to escape. in his right hand, you saw the weapon he had tried to use against you. it was a simple knife (or in his words, “the dagger of salvation.” like okay, fucking weirdo). his hair was a dirty blonde yet it looked practically unmoved. beside him was the other assailant. she was in the same outfit yet in her hands was a crossbow.

the commanding woman stood on the highest step, looking down at the two “missionaries.”

“i am zelda spellman, directrix of this academy and you two are trespassing.” she said, her words laced with something that seemed to be a kindness. the man beside her stared at them, slowly pulling out what seemed to be a metal rod.

the two assailants chuckled, before the younger female had fired the arrow. immediately raising her hand, the arrow had stopped in mid air. following her, the other man, ambrose, focused his attention onto the arrow.

(1) “Ianuae sagittae!*” he exclaimed gruffly. the arrow then vanished before you. your eyes widened, looking at the sight in front of you.

“we know you never come peacefully, so we upped our defenses since last.” nicholas hissed at them. this side of him, even though having just met, was something you could really get used to. seeing the two look down at the floor, they were entrapped in a circle that seemed to be gray ash and flowers. trying to move their feet, they couldn’t budge.

zelda smiled, looking down upon them. “enjoy the little time you have while we help you on your journey home.”

turning on her heel, she marched back into the building (or academy?). ambrose had ran in, while nicholas helped you power through. making your way into the center of the academy, you had noticed a bunch of students now surrounding the statue, hands locked with one another. you had looked at them all, wanting to stop and help yet you were nudged by the one holding you.

“c’mon, they got it.” he whispered, helping you make your way to wherever he was taking you.

as you walked, he opened the doors to what he said under his breath was “the infirmary.” seeing the nearest bed, he gently laid you down on the pearl colored cotton sheets. he sat at your feet, looking down at you as he held your fingertips and began to whisper softly. looking at him, his eyes were closed, like he was focused on something.

you exhaled softly, feeling the pain you felt almost become nonexistent. nicholas opened his eyes, chuckling as he inched closer and held your hand.

“i did what i could for the pain before hilda comes and helps you get better.” he explained. you nodded, taking in a deep breath of relaxation. as you looked down at him, you chuckled softly.

“don’t worry, i got you.” he encouraged, making you feel at ease. maybe you could get used to this place.

⋆｡°✩

hi y'all! hope this second story for y'all was good! i know it slowly dies a bit towards the end but it is late for me and i started a bit earlier today but i had shit to do so i had to finish up however i could TT

i tried my best to capture the characters but i like haven't seen this show for a while so i hope it's good!

(1) = lanuae saggitae = teleport arrow (according to google translate)

this story takes place after season four yet not towards the end ending so i had to take advantage of playing with bad boy nick scratch :p

#male reader #gay fanfiction #nick scratch #sabrina the teenage witch x male reader #nicholas scratch #m!reader #x male reader #chilling adventures of sabrina

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miasthoughtsteeheehawhaw · 2 months ago

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eye symbolism?? idk man its late and i have thoughts (this is about bakugou btw)

so in mha's artstyle the child characters are drawn with big eyes (which is not unheard of in anime and manga) and i got to thinking that this probably symbolizes some sort of childhood innocence (being kids and all)

so bakugou, has innocence in these flashbacks right? hes just a kid after all (his eyes are a touch smaller and more angular which is either just a stylistic choice or something ill dig real deep into at some point idk im just trying to crank these words out before i go to bed)

but obviously the big-eyed look is not on bakugou for very long as if we look at him nowadays his eyes appear to have shrunk just a tad

(also, sidenote: do you even understand how hard it is to find a picture of bakugou thats not either fan art or surrounded by hearts and shit? sorry anyway)

look at them dinky eyes. now what has happened to this goblin of a boy? ill tell you.

society

^please read that in a posh old timey british accent please it makes it funny please laugh at my jokes i promise im actually funny guys i swear

anyway lets get into quirkism (is that the word? idk). so because reasons i dont need to explain, quirkism is deeply ingrained into society, so when children develop (or dont develop) their quirks, the 'strong' kids are idolized by not only their fellow children but their teachers and adults in their life as well, which may lead to a somewhat inflated ego....not gonna name names but BAKUGOUBAKUGOUBAKUGOUBAKUGOUBAKUGOUBAKUGOU

anyway

so hes been hardened by societys expectations of him so of course hes gonna be a little mean (okay i admit a little is a bit of an understatement given the whole 'kill yourself' bit, not his finest moment, i must say) so am i excusing his behavior? NO! HE DID A BAD THING

however it would not have reached that point if someone had intervened. maybe said something along the lines of 'hey bakugou maybe dont bully that guy thats really shitty' but bakugou never faced any consequences for it really. his gaggle of goons encouraged it and the teachers never stopped it.

this post started with eyes...i got a little side tracked...whoops anyway back to eyes

you may be thinking: 'mia youre stupid and wrong, the change in eye size is just to show that bakugou is older.' and to that i say NUH UH

i raise you midoriya

TAKE A GANDER AT THEM BIG OLE EYEBALLS!

i think they represent his hope and resilience and his willingness to be vulnerable

eyes are the window to the soul and his are so big you can see right through them. you can SEEEEE

but bakugou yall, he got them dinky eyes. theyre small and closed off because he sees vulnerability as a weakness. what does bakugou hate? being weak. so hes got small eyes so no one can see him

anyway i totally read wayyy too much into that but i mean, let a gal have fun

#long post #first post #mha #bnha #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #not a ship thing

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autisticclownfromhell · 2 years ago

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A New Look?

Alternative title: What I would give genshin guys to wear

Basically Reverse isekai but now you gotta make normal outfits for the characters so they don't stick out like a sore thumb. It can also be read as modern AU outfits if you prefer

Characters in order:

Heizou, Xiao, Albedo, Zhongli, Wanderer, Kaeya, Venti, Ayato, Diluc, Kazuha

Honestly heizou would be an easy pick. Old fashioned British detective style. Sherlock Holmes, trench coats, shades of brown, all that jazz. Also, give him access to true crime podcasts, he'll never be bored again.

I'd give xiao the ol' hot topic skater fit. Black, band tees, lots of rings and jewelry, fake pieces, ripped jeans, yeaa. It matches his personality too. Not with fashion but if you do get band t shirts tell him alot about said band just incase one of those "name five members or your not a true fan" people talk to him.

Albedo gets the light academia scholar outfits. Kinda chill, collared shirts, lighter colors, shades of brown and blue. Some gold every once in a while. Loose fitting stuff. Flowy sleeves. Lots of rings. Maybe one or two gold necklaces that he wears every once in a while. The type of outfits you see those aesthetic college student wearing. Maybe a bit of cottagecore. Lots of white shirts.

Zhongli would look like that one professor that everybody has a crush on tbh. Not as formal as what he wears in game but still, collared shirts, suits once in a while, always wears a tie, owns one dark brown trench coat that he wears everywhere at all costs. Lots of darker browns with gold accents here and there. Not a necklace kinda guy but wears a good amount of rings. Totally has reading glasses. Has alot of custom hair pins for some reason? Idk I just feel like he does. Has 100 pairs of dress shoes, and like one pair of black boots. Nothing else. Also If you give him his own closet it's so organized. Spotless, everything fits in the closet right, its honestly impressive.

Wanderer would be alot like Xiao. Hot topic's no. 1 customer. He'd have more of a blue and purple color scheme than black though. Actually listens to all the bands he has shirts of. Big punk fan. Wears this one black beanie with a skull on it basically every day. His shoe game is good, like really good. Had alot of platform shoes so he can look taller. Lots of cropped shirts that looked ripped. No long sleeves, short sleeves and sleeveless tees. An absolute MASTER at makeup, specifically eyeliner. Lotsssss of turtlenecks.

Ooohoho now Kaeya would be f u n to style. Has a more simple style. Those pinterest dudes?? Yeah, think of that. Plain colored shirts, turtlenecks alot, almost never sleeveless. Lots of long sleeves stuff.

Give him one of those black corsets that I always see, since he wears one on his original outfit. Wears necklaces, but doesnt layer them or anything. One simple necklace at a time. A TON of silver rings. Hes got those pinterest guy hands. Wears sheer black gloves. Has this one cropped blue jacket but it's more of a sweater and he always wears it when layering clothing.

Hanging earrings are necessary for him. Has a belt with a snowflake design on it that he uses alot. Almost never wears sweaters. Wears blue, grey, and black almost religiously.

Ahhh venti :) Think similar to albedos but more Victorian than college student vibes. Again, long sleeves, flowy, lotssss of ruffles, has a generous amount of green accents. Has this one emerald necklace that resembles a vision somewhat and he adores it. Never takes it off. Not a giant ring person, but has around a thousand hats. Paper boy hats in green, might own a bucket hat or two? Hes got the whole hat-universe. Always wear white socks that go just below his knees with EVERYTHING. Has multiple pairs and some are a bit more sheer than the others. Has a pair or two of white fingerless gloves to wear with long sleeves, and full, white and sheer gloves he wears when he isnt wearing long sleeves. White button ups are his life. Usually doesnt tuck said button ups in. (Totally not a walking mitski reference)

Ayato isnt THAT complex. And he's got similar style to Zhongli, but complety different color schemes. Wears suits often, and they follow a pattern. White shirt, black tie, light blue suit jacket. The icon of white pants, he basically never wears anything else. For smaller accessories they're usually dark blue or black in color. Not a ring person either, but wears one or two black rings occasionally. Has earrings but not dangly ones. Just black studs. Has alot of dark blue hair pins to keep his hair back. Theres no way his hair naturally just stays that way ok?? Every single boba place within 40 miles knows his name and face by memory. Wears the same looking black shoes all the time.

Diluc is probably another trench coat kinda guy. Less suits, more trench coats for him. In the fancy looking suit and tie gang with Ayato and Zhongli. Usually wears black button ups instead of white ones, with a crimson red tie and a brown trench coat, or a white tie and a darker red coat. Totally not an accessories guy. No necklaces, earrings, and maybe just one single gold rings he wears once every century. Another black shoes only person. I feel like the coats he wear have some fur on them in places. Just a thought. Always carries around like 3 extra hair ties in his pocket just in case he need one.

Kazuha is a comfy clothing icon. Not one for a thousand things on his outfits for aesthetic purposes, just wears what he likes and adds accessories if he feels like it. And absolute king of the fall outfit aesthetic. Outfits usually consists of slightly baggy autumn colored shirts, always short sleeves. Sweatpants or just light colored/bleached cuffed jeans. (Yes I said CUFFED) And occasionally has a darker colored orange and red knit sweater over him. Probably has one or two necklaces on at a time. Always wears this one necklace with a gold chain and a maple leaf charm on it. A gold colored accessories person. Most of the rings he has are gold. Has his ears pierced and usually wears black or gold studs. Sonetimes he wears dangly earrings but nothing to crazy. Ties his hair back a lot less.

(I wrote this on the train lmao)

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prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 3 months ago

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medialog june 2k24

watched

wordplay - rewatched this documentary about crosswords and particularly about the annual crossword tournament put on by will shortz while waiting for the anesthesia from my wisdom tooth extraction to wear off and found it about as charming as i remembered... i love a doc about a subculture made up of endearing nerds. i first saw it when it came out and on revisit it also has some intensely 2004 vibes - in particular jon stewart shows up as one of their crossword-fans talking heads and it really brought home for me how influential he was on the development of internet tone (like to this day the reason so many people on reddit sound Like That is because they're trying to be jon stewart and failing...)

the bourne ultimatum - movie go zoom zoom! still not convinced matt damon can act

artists and models - i had never seen a dean martin/jerry lewis film before and i don't really want to again but i'm glad i saw this one (this is how i feel about the two (2) wes anderson movies i've seen, and also pulp fiction & tarantino). some great colors & costumes, a plot that goes surprisingly bonkers in a final third turn that reminds you it was the cold war (between that and all the stuff about comics & violence this one also functions as a real time capsule), and (my main reason for watching) shirley maclaine the love of my life is so adorable and funny as a daffy sweetheart in a role that really lets her (a former dancer) show off her gift for physical comedy.

the secret garden - the cast in this movie is so good, including the children in the starring roles, and while it doesn't even attempt to do anything with the book's deranged relationship with things like the british empire and the concept of disability, watching it really did bring me back to why the book has been so beloved - the fantasy at its heart is ultimately about hard humble work paying off and about friends teaching each other to be nicer, which are i think deeply appealing narratives for children in a way that people sometimes forget. it's so funny that part of what cures mary and colin of their bad personalities is meeting another unhappy rich child for the very first time!

humanist vampire seeking consenting suicidal person - this was slight but sweet, a darkly funny romcom with some style and heart. also i had never seen a french-canadian movie before i don't think and it was a fun surprise to hear them talking like "frenchfrenchfrenchfrenchRRRRfrenchfrenchRRRR." not an accent with which i have much familiarity!

jurassic park - my somewhat inexplicable, even to me, aversion to raiders of the lost ark had me avoiding action spielberg for basically my whole life but i gave this a shot thinking maybe i would appreciate it if not enjoy it and was absolutely GLUED to the screen from about five minutes in. i understand why other directors are like that about spielberg now, and also what jj abrams is trying to do all the time and failing because he doesn't understand how it actually works. this is like the most famous movie in the world basically and i've seen so many clips from it over the years and yet even waiting for them and expecting them to come i was ON THE EDGE OF MY SEAT! like WOW! truly a movie that feels like a theme park ride more than any other i've seen except maybe fury road. anyway as you statistically speaking probably already know this movie absolutely rocks, and not just for (1) laura dern and (2) jeff goldblum with his tits out.

citizen kane - spent the last weekend in june at two different marches & closed it out sunday night with a screening of the movie that made me bisexual <3 one day i'll figure out a way to articulate how this movie did what it did to me but for now i will just say that it is great and its reputation is deserved and orson welles is one of the most entertaining screen presences of all time and it looks so cool and beautiful all the way through and it is so so so so gay

interview with a vampire season 2 - my opinion on this is at this point well established lol finally some good fucking food!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

read

megan abbott, the turnout - this & the zadie smith book are further steps in me catching up with authors i lost track of during some bad reading years! when i heard that megan abbott was coming out with a book about sisters who run a ballet school i was like LOL because that's like the peak ultimate megan abbott premise (girls and the nastiness of both feelings and bodies and ambition and hunger and an atmosphere of nightmares and filth and the insane dynamics of a tightly knit but deeply dysfunctional world, all to the nth power), and guess what as a megan abbott fan i loved it :) all the bad reviews on goodreads for this are like "why is this book so gross? why is she sexualizing the nutracker? there were scenes in this book that made me feel dirty reading them. way too much focus on the wet leotard crotches of little girls" and i was sickos dot jpg the whole time. but actually i think the reason that this wound up being my favorite abbott since dare me is that at its core it's a book about a woman with an unbelievably fucked up childhood due to her incredibly fucked up dead parents and the suspense that gives the book its tension and its form is less about what's going to happen with the plot and more about whether she is at any point going to put it together that the things that happened to her when she was young were actually bad; the further the book goes, the more deeply you understand the walls of denial and distortion around her entire life. it rules.

david j. skaal, something in the blood: the untold story of bram stoker, the man who wrote dracula - as previously mentioned, i have some real qualms with some of his dracula readings, but overall i found this an addictively pleasurable tome - 600 pages and he kept them turning the whole time. i love a biography that starts off with some background on medieval ireland, you know? skaal is a good writer with an engaging but learned style, and the book is clearly both exhaustively researched and intended for popular audiences (albeit popular audiences who have definitely read dracula, but, i mean, who else is reading 600 pages about this guy?); reading it often feels something like having a drink with a professor who knows his stuff and is NOT afraid to gossip. dracula qualms aside i may investigate some of his other books, particularly his book on dracula screen adaptations, since i'm curious about those but don't necessarily want to, like, watch most of them, lol

bonnie jo campbell, the waters - book club book that was objectively certainly not terrible and which had some things i did like or appreciate, like an 11 year old girl obsessed with math (representation matters...) but which i found just about the most boring thing i have read in my life. like i would definitely say campbell is a better writer than, say, taylor jenkins reid (to name another book club book) or whatsherface who wrote the book of fried green tomatoes which we also read las year... but i found those books much more aggravating but also easier to get through than this book, which really requires you to have some level investment in, like, the natural world of rural michigan, but mostly made me feel so glad i don't live in a small town where all the men have guns.

zadie smith, swing time - it's funny because when i started this i was spending a lot of time thinking about how maybe plot and structure have become underrated, but then this was like a very long book written in the style of someone just kind of talking at you about their life, with plot events technically happening but never feeling like the driving force of the book, and i was totally riveted, which was a good reminder that you can get away with anything if you're a genius! smith is just such a keen observer of people and how they operate, and so allergic to relying on any kind of obvious assumptions about the relationships between demographics & personality or beliefs, even as demographic realities are such a key part of the fabric of the book... i was a little worried i would be disappointed by the fact that she abandoned the modernist-leaning experimentation of NW for a more straightforward, even chatty, style, but "you can get away with it if you're a genius" applies to that too. this book is also an absolute masterclass in the universal through the specific - i cannot emphasize how much literally not one thing the protagonist experiences has ever happened to me, how much our lives and backgrounds and personalities overlap not at all, and yet constantly i found myself aching with resonance over things like "it's so true that's what it's like when you have a mom" or "that really is what it feels like when you are young and sort of smart but also sort of stupid" (which if i were to define it briefly is i think more or less what the book is about).

listened

charli xcx, brat - i remain after all these years a true romance truther and continue unfairly to measure all her subsequent work, much of which is frankly too sophisticated and experimental for my listening taste even if i recognize she's Doing Something, but this album sounds great and has some bops. as a straight-through listen it was too rich for my blood, but i find myself enjoying the songs on shuffle mixed in with whatever else i've been into more than i would have expected from that first exposure, and also 360 has been stuck in my head more waking hours than not for like a month and a half now and i'm still not sick of it (although i think my favorite song on the album is 365, and not just because i think it's really funny that she ended the album with "the opening track coming out of the bathroom after doing cocaine"). plus as someone who HAS been listening to charli since whenever the video for "you're the one" dropped it is nice to see The Culture finally rally around her even if i remain a little puzzled over why now, the all-star remixes getting rolled out have been pretty delightful (LORDE!!!!!!!!), and it's nice to have the zeitgeist coalesce for a moment over something i too think is fun (especially since the other thing gay people love this summer is chappell roan on whom i have yet to be converted sorry to everyone i'm sincerely glad you're having a good time)

#medialog 2k24 #isabel 2k24 #media 2k24 #another fun game of can i remember my own tagging system for these...

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sizebrained · 4 months ago

Text

It's So Hot, Can We Go To The Pool? Part 1

Ok, this is the very first thing I've ever shared in terms of G/t writing so be kind.

I hit Tumblr's max length every post, sorry not sorry. I retconned this from when I first wrote it to make Ben bigger than I originally thought. Muwahaha. Also Hazel's haircolor.

It's meant to be an intro that takes place in the middle when everyone's dynamics were already established.

Content Warning: Adult themes, somewhat suggestive romantic/sexual interests. Mentions of nudity, war, death, danger, terror, injury, PTSD, and panic attacks. But also fluff.

***

The condo was eerily quiet, but that suited Ben just fine. The air inside it, however, felt heavy and still. Ben could do without that on such a hot July day. The air inside was so heavy and still because the building’s air conditioning system was broken, and it was supposed to be brand new.

“Top of the line” the realtor had told him. “Top of the line” was doing absolutely nothing for him now.

The single oversized ceiling fan in the main living space helped, but not much when the air was this humid. Ben looked up at the fan whirring as fast as it could manage to try and cool the air. He guessed that if he were to jump, he could slap it to help it along.

But he figured that he would more likely just break it, given the state of the “top of the line” air conditioning. And he couldn’t jump like he used to anyway. Well actually he just wasn't sure…

He really missed moving his body like he used to before the accident. Almost half a year on crutches was awful. But his older sister, Sam, told him that he shouldn’t be pushing himself.

She insisted that he needed a few more months of physical therapy with her before he tried to pull any stunts. He figured jumping up to slap a ceiling fan counted as a stunt. Especially one that was hanging from the ceiling 10 feet up.

But standing 7'3" inches tall, it didn't seem that high to Ben. With his reach and vertical leap, Ben knew he could have probably done it a year ago. But that was before the car accident. His basketball days are over now thanks to that wreck.

The thought made him bend over and absentmindedly rub his left knee cap with a sigh. It was like he was developing some kind of nervous tick.

His long fingers took turns gently tracing his surgery scars. Even with the surgeon’s best efforts, Ben still thought he looked like they had used a lawnmower on him. It made him self-conscious about his body, which he already had enough of before adding surgery scars to the mix. His lower back, shoulders, arms, and some parts of his legs already took the brunt of his big body's rapid expansion over the years leaving stretch marks from his growth. At least the stitches from his latest procedure had dissolved and were no longer itching him.

Lost in his own train of thought, Ben had carelessly bent down at the waist to play with his scars. This made the massive college student’s whole upper body tilt forward at an angle.

“Mind what you are doing, please!!!” shouted a small voice from his left shoulder. It was said in a gentle tone, instead of annoyed as someone would expect given the result of Ben's thoughtless movement. Something about her British accent always made Ben think Mary Poppins was living with him.

The voice came from a tiny, young looking woman who was shorter than any one of Ben’s long fingers. Even his thumb was bigger than her. She was standing with the front of her body facing the profile of his face many times larger than her own.

Dangling away from his body, the tiny figure was clutching the shoulder fabric of the arm closest to her in the grip of one tiny hand. She was pulling on it hard enough so that the top of the cotton fabric actually lifted up off of his skin.

Ben was much darker compared to her own pale complexion, made even lighter by so many years indoors. And she stood just over 3 and a half inches tall making Ben 30 times her height.

She shifted her position and braced her feet flat against the front of the massive human’s collarbone. A long tail swished back and forth vigorously behind her, helping her steady and balance.

One hand came to rest on her hip as if to emphasize her point. She looked like she was purposefully striking a pose. It was as if she was a great pirate captain measuring the wind speed for a ship sailing across the open ocean.

But instead of such a majestic scene, the reality was far less adventurous. They were both simply waiting together for Ben’s sister and Hazel’s sibling, named Cob, to return from the store. Hazel had been perched on the top of Ben's one shoulder and rather than climb to his back, she decided to hang on till he was upright agian. The plan was for all of them to try to go to the nearly empty, and supposedly luxury, building’s pool. Ben and his passenger were a terribly sweaty and annoyed mess.

Ben still hadn’t adjusted to moving differently when he she was on him, and he worried that he may never at this rate. It put more effort onto her to compensate for his lack of continued awareness, but she didn’t seem to mind.

She relished the chance to have a human to climb on again after Mary and Jack’s passing, and Ben was like the Mount Everest of humans. She enjoyed the challenge.

Given how nimble she was, there was never a real risk of her falling from her perch. Instead, she was more concerned with his obsession over his body.

It was true that the tiny woman was very annoyed today, and her tail swished in a way that looked it. But she was not annoyed at Ben, almost never at Ben. It was becoming harder to ignore or admit, but he was occupying more space for her and not just in a physical sense. It was the heat. It was never hot like this back home. And even though she’d lived in America for most of her life now, she always considered England her real home. And it never got hot like this there.

From her spot dangling on Ben’s left shoulder, she took a look again at his knee, way, way down. Scars were nothing new for her. She’d seen far worse after four years in a war hospital during what would eventually be called World War II. But Ben had kept it wrapped in bandages at her suggestion to keep himself from itching and scratching at the sutures.

She was amazed to learn they’d invented stitches that would dissolve. She wished they had those back when she was nursing. Having to remove them once a wound had healed was novel for Hazel, at first. But by the end of the war, she reckoned that she had cut through and removed hundreds of yards of stitching from humans. She could always do it far quicker than Mary, the human nurse and her companion, ever could. It was a skill that gave her a sense of pride. That she could do so little else at her size in such a place made her relish some superior skill.

Mary, ever stoic, simply reminded the tiny woman with a tail that the stitches were a lot bigger and easier compared to her. So she shouldn’t get too big of a head over it. Still the human nurse was glad for all the help she could get on her shifts in the war hospital, no matter how small the help may be.

Seeing Ben’s healed scars now in the open, she was interested by how different the angles of the incisions were compared to what they would have back then. Although if pilots like Mary's husband, Jack, had suffered injuries like Ben -- they would have had just amputated.

She was surprised that she hadn’t noticed it before, but then again he had kept them covered. Plus, Ben’s size had the habit of sometimes making her freeze up and miss minor details.

That he had such an effect on her was the only thing that did annoy her about the enormous human. She knew he would never hurt her. Generations of her kind had ingrained in instinct into her, she felt a constant warning that Ben was too big and must be a threat.

The hours Ben spent during their first meeting proved the opposite, despite his size. He could also be incredibly delicate. It took so long getting her unstuck from that glue trap and he was so flustered and gentlemanly about it.

He made joke after joke about the situation to make both of them feel better. And he was more embarrassed by having to, ultimately, cut off some of her clothes with a pair of scissors than she had been.

Nudity, at least her own, never really phased her. That it so flustered him to see her in a state of nature was all the evidence she ever needed to trust him. Although as her feelings about him changed that started to as well.

But still, he was just so…big. It was like the word was invented with Ben in mind. Her natural impulses to flee had certainly gotten better with more time and exposure to him. But he was still so utterly gigantic even when compared to any humans she’d previously encountered in her life. And he was so fast, it reminded Hazel of herself.

The Professor always hobbled around with a cane, and Mary wasn’t the most graceful human she’d seen. Mary’s husband, Jack, who was an American pilot during the war, also moved around rather slowly and deliberately having lost both a leg and his eyesight during the war. She still marveled at how Ben could move like that being so enormous, even when he had been on crutches for most of the past several months with his injury.

“Oh Hazel! Sorry! Sorry sorry sorry…” Ben blinked furiously out of his own thoughts. Replying quickly and sheepishly, he gave up on touching his reconstructed knee and stood back upright.

This pleased the little, tailed woman named Hazel, but she found herself on the backfoot again when Ben brought one huge up to his left shoulder as if to catch her. He opened his hand to extend his fingers, straightening them out.

The span of each of his hands from the thumb to the pinky was four times Hazel’s size. His hand got measured once to potentially be drafted to the NBA. He thought it was weird to get measured like he was a farm animal.

Hazel didn't care about his exact dimensions. Just that, however many inches the hand was, it was large enough to block her whole view.

Hazel’s sharp featured face fell under the shadow of his hand as Ben made a literal wall for the small woman, more as reassurance for himself. She wasn’t going to fall, and she especially wasn’t going to fall now that he had stood up straight again leveling out his shoulder. She resumed her former position on top of it.

It had been decades since she had lost her footing, and even then it wasn’t her fault. Hazel sighed as she waited for Ben to figure out for himself why she would find his well meaning gesture bothersome.

She could have just told him, but she took her old Professor’s old approach of a Socratic method, favoring questions over providing answers as a form of instruction.

She took the time to remember the last time she had fallen. A bomb the size of a normal human, not Ben, went through the roof and several upper floors of the makeshift hospital’s building. Then it exploded. It was the loudest thing she had ever heard. Her ears rang for hours afterwards.

Lately as he started acting more like what she imagined his old self was like before the accident, she thought Ben was getting close to being the second loudest thing she’d ever heard. Even his whispered apology just now was enough to make his voice rumble through the whole of her body. It was especially noticeable when she was this close to his throat.

Every time the giant human spoke while she was this close, it sent vibrations up through the soles of her feet into her whole body. No human she’d encountered, not even Mary’s husband, had quite the same effect. Hazel always noticed the absence of it when talking with other humans or her family. Now that she was used to it, she found she would yearn for the sensation.

For a human, Ben was just so…so much. It was concerning at times. All humans were large but something about Ben’s enormous size was especially noticeable today. Conceptually, she understood what being over 7 feet tall meant. But for all intents and purposes, he might as well have told her he was 100 feet tall like the old oak trees on the Professor’s country estate.

Sometimes Hazel felt like she was a human who had been accustomed to riding horses their entire life, to all of a sudden find their preferred stead was replaced with an elephant.

Hazel had only seen an elephant once when Mary had taken her to a circus in the late 1950’s. It was the biggest creature she had ever seen. Ben was the second biggest, followed by his absent sister. That Ben’s sister had still not returned with Hazel’s own sibling, who had accompanied the human shopping, also annoyed Hazel right now.

Maybe it was just the heat making her snippy. She was annoyed at herself, that her inconvenience overtook her patience. She couldn’t stand to wait in front of his mammoth hand any longer.

“It’s fine. It’s fine. Just be more mindful please. Remember, you have a passenger. And I appreciate the gesture but it’s truly unnecessary…” She chastised him tenderly.

To Ben, even when she looked mad or annoyed she never sounded like it. He loved her accent, except that it made her sound older than she looked. Hazel reached out casually and patted the closest spot of his palm a few times in reassurance. Ben could just barely feel it. Hazel’s own outstretched hand wouldn’t even cover one of his fingernails. The boy was just so…big.

Ben lowered his own hand, closing his fingers inwards towards his palm tightening them so his knuckles cracked. Another tick of his. Hazel hated when he did that.

Hazel let go of his shirt and took a few steps back towards the center of his shoulder again. She wiped her brow feeling as if her body was making its own pool while they waited. Even the bandana she used to contain her long curly hair, and keep it out of her face, was soaked through. It was also exceptionally frizzy in this heat and humidity. The state of her hair also annoyed her.

Hazel pulled off her bandana causing her hair to nearly stand on end when it was released. Ben thought it made her look like a dandelion about to blow away if there was a breeze. But he dared not share that thought with her and risk annoying her further.

Now on the top of Ben’s once again flat shoulder, she pulled up the sliver of fabric that rested across his powerful tendon to pat her face dry.

“Pardon me.” Hazel said while Ben watched in silent amusement. It was nice to see her be less formal than he was used to her being. The heat must really be getting to her.

Hazel wrung out her bandana several times with her strong hands, the droplets barely registering as they fell onto Ben’s enormous shirt. She shook it out a few times, before rewrapping it around her head with a loud, haughty huff. It was still damp. The annoyances seemed to never end for her today.

“It is just that…I cannot see a thing when you do that you know?” She said with a slight upturn of her chin to peer at the side of his face.

“Have they returned yet?” she asked while trying to stand on her tiptoes to look out the window for herself as if she wasn’t already high enough.

“Nope. Not that I can see…” Ben said slowly.

Ben took a turn peering down through the window. The kitchen’s large single pane of glass over the sink gave him a clear view of most of the building’s parking lot. He realized that the motion made him start to lean again and he raised his hand again instinctively.

But he caught himself and lowered it quickly before he was verbally slapped by Hazel, if you could even call her admonitions something that harsh. Hazel saw him correct himself and nodded ever so slightly in silent approval.

Sam almost always parked in one of the handicap spots when she took Ben’s car. The novelty of getting to park so close to entrances spoke to her lazy core. It was quite a source of contention between them with Ben rightfully worried about someone who may actually need to use a handicap spot.

Sam promised that she would only park in a handicap space when there was an abundance of them, but that wasn’t enough for Ben. Hazel thought they could bicker over it for some time and it seemed like Sam did it on purpose.

The last time they fought over it, Hazel turned out to be correct. She was doing it on purpose in the hopes of forcing him to drive himself finally. Sam finally snapped at her little brother that if he was so concerned about her doing it, then he needed to start driving again so she couldn’t do it.

It was Sam’s unsubtle way of trying to force him to get back into a car again. But Ben had refused to even get into a car ever since his accident. Even the elevator made him jumpy now. Despite being on crutches for several months, he would still painstakingly hop up the stairs with the crutches tucked under an arm rather than feel trapped in a metal box again.

There was an entire row of more than a dozen handicap spots right in the front of Ben’s new luxury condo building. Sam usually left it parked in one of them, hoping to lure her brother into it again somehow.

As far as Ben knew, there was only one occupant who needed it because of her wheelchair. She was a rather nice woman in her late 30’s who lived four levels below him. Ben thinks her name was Susan...maybe. He was terrible with names but always remembered faces. His sister was the same, but just called everyone “Babe” to as a workaround, even with him.

Ben saw that his neighbor, maybe Susan, had parked in her preferred handicap spot right next to the ramp into the building. The rest were empty, meaning Ben’s sister and Hazel’s sibling Cob had yet to return.

“Is the store not just two of your blocks away from here? Could they not have just walked?” Hazel asked annoyed.

She still wasn't used to how quick a walk somewhere could be when she hitched a ride on Ben and guessed his older sister was nearly as fast. Sam wasn’t as big as Ben, but she wasn’t that much smaller.

Ben turned his head to look at Hazel perched on the wide expanse of his left shoulder. He could just make her out in his peripheral vision. If he took a second to really focus he could even make out her little features.

He was amazed by how strikingly beautiful she looked. Few of the human teachers that he had seemed like they could rival her knowledge looked like her. Although he guessed Hazel had a bit of an unfair advantage being over a hundred years old. She'd probably kill at trivia...except for any sports categories. But if she was on the same team as Sam, they'd be unstoppable.

Right now, Ben thought she looked annoyed. And sweaty. But he was too. Ben pinched the front of his tank top between two fingers and pulled it away from his body. He then did it again over and over so it started to flap. The flapping wafted cooler air up and down his body. When the air hit Hazel like a light breeze she smiled in grateful relief.

Ben felt a sense of accomplishment over the change in her face. He would leap on any chance he could get to make her more comfortable with him. Hopefully, this helped make up for his hand mistake earlier.

Ben pulled out his phone from the pocket in his shorts with his other hand to check his texts. He saw no missed calls or texts from his sister and only his several unanswered ones left. She always left him on “read.” Each text asked what was taking so long with increasing impatience.

“She probably ran into someone from work or they’re still out joyriding. You know Cob never turns down the chance to ride in a…”

Ben was about to say car, when he was interrupted by the familiar sound of his own pulling in faster than it should into the parking lot. Thankfully, the parking lot was almost always empty.

Out of the 50 plus units in the building, less than 10 had been bought so far leaving the rest of the building unoccupied. It meant there was lots of space in the parking lot, which Sam fully intended to really explore.

Ben and Hazel watched as Sam curved left then right, finally turning in a tight circle several times that left tire marks on the asphalt. Relieved from Ben’s shirt breeze, it was Hazel turn to see Ben be the one who looked annoyed for a change.

The car finally parked in one of the many handicap spots causing Ben to grumble in disapproval and shake Hazel’s whole body so much that her teeth chattered. Sam emerged then walked to open back of the car and pick up several large shopping bags in both hands.

“Oh that’s why…they went fucking shopping. Again. She was just there yesterday what could she possibly need now.” Ben said, agitated, still flapping his shirt for Hazel. In fact, he sped up the motion a bit making the artificial breeze sway Hazel’s clothes and hair.

Even from the 10th floor, Ben could tell Sam was wearing a bathing suit now. But she had left in shorts and a t-shirt. She was also wearing a wide brimmed straw hat like she was going to the beach. Hazel saw them now as well, but she could not tell where Cob was holding onto Sam. She guessed maybe the hat?

“Language!” Hazel said, lifting her leg to stomp a foot down on his shoulder in protest. Hazel thought she may never get used to the casual swearing of this generation of humans.

Ben only made another grumbling noise in acknowledgement, shaking her whole body up to the teeth again. He wondered how much of a bill she had run up on his credit card. Not that it mattered after the settlement, probably, but like the handicap parking it was the principle of it. Sam seemed to find excuses to buy all kinds of junk when it was his money.

Ben turned his body slowly away from the window and stopped flapping his shirt. The shirt breeze was replaced by the rustle of wind sweeping past his should as as he took long barefoot strides across the condo.

“Do you think they still want to go to the pool? That took longer than I thought it would.” Hazel asked him while peering over her shoulder at a clock on the wall in the kitchen.

She steadied herself, bending her knees slightly and swaying along with Ben as he walked. Her tail resumed swishing again, helping her keep her balance while he moved.

“Yea but would you and Cob really want to go down to the pool again?” Ben asked concern, sneaking a glance at her on his shoulder.

“I don’t love the idea of you just floating in a body of water that big or sitting on the ledge. One of those birds could get you.” Ben said ominously.

He walked over to his front door. On the wall next to it was a large monitor and several buttons. He pressed one button to buzz his sister into the building. She had his key and he didn’t need to do it, but pressing the button activated a camera that filled up the wall monitor with a view of the lobby.

Ben and Hazel saw her bounding up the flight of stairs in the lobby two at a time towards the elevators. She looked like the Grinch stealing Whoville’s Christmas presents in the night.

“I could just get a big bowl and put some ice cubes in there for the two of you while Sam and I go down.” Ben offered thinking out loud.

Hazel’s annoyed expression returned. The idea of floating in one of his large, used popcorn bowls was more unappealing than continuing to sweat in the condo. Cob would probably love it though.

Ben unlocked the door while he spoke. Then he took a few steps back to rest his butt on the wide back of the sectional couch. The sectional took up most of the living room. He bought the biggest one they made so that Ben could lay on it fully outstretched wherever he wanted.

The movers who delivered it were expecting a place with lots of people or kids. Instead, they were shocked to see just one giant person on crutches who had to bend down so that he could see them under the top of the door frame. Ben couldn’t wait for them to finish and go. One of them was a big fan.

One half of the couch faced the tv while the other faced a wall of windows and the wide balcony after that. Ben crossed his arms over his chest, waiting on the back of the couch and facing the front door with the balcony behind him. He was trying to look as annoyed as he could muster. Hazel missed the breeze from his shirt. She hoped he may resume flapping his shirt to make it return.

“Thank you, but no I do not think I will be going popcorn swimming today. Do you not think that one of those large bags your sister is hauling up here contains some ingenious item that will allow Cob and I to fully enjoy the pool with the two of you.” Hazel asked with a sarcastic emphasis on “ingenious.”

Like the popcorn bowl idea she knew they often meant well. But Ben and Sam could often do or suggest things that were demeaning and patronizing for someone her age. It didn’t seem to bother Cob as much. Hopefully their tagging along and input helped Sam buy something that stood a chance of being useful.

If it wasn’t for Sam’s shopping trips, Ben’s new space would likely still be as empty and filled with echoes as when he first moved in. While Ben was annoyed by her spending, Hazel appreciated the clutter from Sam’s trips. Hazel loathes nothing more than clean, wide open spaces with nowhere to hide and no human objects to use for improvisation.

***

End Pt 1

#g/t writing #g/t #g/t community #g/t fluff #borrowers #sfw g/t #g/t author #g/t concept #g/t scenario #g/t story #giant/tiny #size difference #gentle giant #g/t stuff #g/t related

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