#also sorry if i forgot to tag u i rly have a peanut brain

[zigtheeortega]

hidden

pairing | blaine x mc

word count | 3.2k

warnings | smut. public sex. minors dni.

tags | @raleighcarrera, @pixeljazzy, @pixelsandkink, @natesewell, @choicesarehard, @empressazura 

author’s note | alright i guess this is how my foreign affairs obsession begins. i had to do a bit of random world building since we’re only three chapters into this bitch so please just ignore it if any of this turns out to be out of character and refuted later or something. also i love blaine ! foreign affairs supremacy

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Her cheek slipped out of the palm of her hand, forehead smacking the desk, nearly jumping out of her skin at the abrupt awakening.

“Ow.”

She prodded the tender spot on her face, thankful her foundation was thick.

A soft snore caught her attention – next to her, Blaine was passed out. Leaning back in his chair, his head was thrown back, arms crossed against his chest, the textbook on its face in his lap.

“Hey, Blaine,” she whispered, barely audible over his snores, shaking his arm gently. “Blaine. Blaine –”

She shoved his arm, and he stirred, eyes popping open. He sat up too quickly, his knee hitting the edge of the table. “Shit –”

“Shhh,” she shushed him, jabbing a thumb towards the front desk, which was unoccupied. “I think we’re the last ones in here.”

“Huh,” he yawned, rubbing his eye with one hand.

“Hey!” She said, noticing the sound of crinkling in his lap. She snatched it up by the spine, furiously smoothing out the pages with flattened palms. “This is a priceless Rutherland book. There aren’t that many copies of this volume as is, and this is the original print. Be careful.”

“If you wanted to feel me up, you could’ve just said so,” he smirked, voice gritty and just the right amount of rasp to send a tingle up her spine.

“In your dreams.”

The last thing she remembered was skimming an old Ardonian textbook, fighting sleep as she tried soaking in as much as she could.

“Yeah, I saw you there, Carina,” he teased. “You were pretty wild.”

She rolled her eyes, flipping to a new page in her notepad, jotting down their textbook titles. “Do you remember where you stopped?”

“Nope. Most boring history book I’ve ever read,” he said, through another yawn.

Blaine was clearly a fast learner – he’d known how much the whole “Ardona versus Rutherland” thing had bothered her, so he set out to make that the one thing he teased her relentlessly about.

“Yeah, alright. You say that like reading about –” she flipped back a few pages, “‘Ardonian formal wear’ is somehow more interesting. If I have to read another page about the vast variations of lapels and cufflinks, I’m going to throw up.”

He shrugged. “There’s more exciting stuff. You just need to know where to look.”

“Okay, then show me.”

“Isn’t the library closing or something?” He stretched lazily, gesturing towards the empty desks and tables around them.

“Not for another…” she trailed off, shaking her wrist to readjust her watch. “Thirty minutes.”

“If it gets us out of here faster, I’ll assign you all the homework you want,” he said, scooting back from his chair, raising his hands above his head in a final, full body stretch, his hoodie lifting just above the belt of his jeans, her gaze roaming the thin line of hair below his belly button.

She averted her gaze, silently thanking herself for not being so obvious that he noticed her gawking.

She followed suit, trailing behind him with a stack of hardbacks in her arms, sliding them back in place as they stalked deeper and deeper into the maze of books.

“Right… here,” he said, dragging a finger across the spines, settling on a large, thick one right smack in the middle of the shelf.

He gently tugged it out of place, flipping the cover to show it to her. “This is a favorite.”

“Henrietta Hayes,” she read the cover, gently taking the book from his hands, ignoring the spark when their fingers brushed.

“Yep,” he said, leaning up against the bookshelf. “I much prefer biographies. More of a connection.”

She nodded. “Agreed.”

She turned the withered pages with a delicate touch, skimming as she went. “So you’re related to her?” “Yeah. She’s a great-great-great-great somebody,” he shrugged. “My parents didn’t have time to manually shove Ardonian history down my throat, so they settled for the next best thing – gifting me a stack of biographies for my thirteenth birthday.”

She grimaced. “That’s rough. You probably wanted a PlayStation or something, huh?”

He laughed breathily, the rasp from his sleepiness still lacing his tone. “Yeah, I wanted Mario Kart but I got endless Hayes’ stories. Don’t get me wrong, they’re interesting, but it’s proof they’ve been trying to groom me for the throne since I can remember.”

“So… why are you showing me this?” Carina asked, a bit confused. “What’s your angle?”

He shrugged again. “Trying to prove that we’re better.”

She sighed, snapping the book shut. “Alright, it’s been fun hearing about your ancient family members, but I’ll stick to the general information, thank you very much.”

His hand wrapped gently around her wrist, holding her in place. “You needed a reminder that I’m more than whatever you’ve been taught to perceive me as. I’m not whoever Henrietta was. I’m not whoever my parents want me to be. I’m just as lost as you are.”

She chewed the inside of her lip. “You’re right, but I can’t just ignore everything that’s been said to me. I’m supposed to hate you.”

“Well, do you?”

She sighed, staring at his hand, still holding her wrist. “I don’t hate anyone.”

“So, a non-answer. How diplomatic of you,” he scoffed, lip curled.

He was gorgeous, and infuriating. A horrible combination.

“You shouldn’t have kissed me or we wouldn’t be in this mess!” Carina whispered angrily, trying to keep her voice low despite her rage.

“You’re joking, right?” He shook his head, dropping his hand. “Carina, I don’t know what kind of revisionist bullshit you’re pulling right now, but if I remember correctly, you kissed me first.”

“Well – Well, my kiss didn’t count! It was a peck. I was coming down from an adrenaline rush. It wasn’t anything,” she shook her head, sliding the book back on the shelf. “You could’ve just left it at that, but you went in for round two, so you made it all complicated.”

“Yeah, I went in for round two because the first kiss sucked,” he said, emphasizing the last word.

She sucked in a sharp breath, trying to hold back a startled gasp. “If it sucked, you wouldn’t have gone in for another one.”

“Nope. Just trying to clean up after you,” he said, a hint of a teasing smile on his lips.

He was insufferable. Annoying. Unbearable. But he was gorgeous.

“What are we even arguing about? We’re literally just arguing to argue right now,” she huffed, flinging her arms in the air, letting her palms slap her thighs.

“You want to hate me, but you can’t. And you’re a bad kisser.”

She gritted her teeth, grabbing the lapels of his denim jacket, tugging him forward to smash her lips against his.

This kiss was a lot different than the last one – born out of frustration and anger and delicious sexual tension rather than exhilaration.

He groaned into her mouth, his hands grazing the hem of her skirt, slowly tracing the shape of her hips. He fisted the fabric there, pulling her closer, closer than they’d ever been.

The library was nearly silent, the dozens of rows around them completely unoccupied.

He slid his hands underneath her blazer, tugging at the hem of her skirt with a crooked finger. She could barely focus on what their mouths were doing anymore, considering he was two seconds away from copping a feel.

She pulled away, panting. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He laughed, just as out of breath as she was. “There’s nobody around. Live a little.”

“I can’t afford to ‘live a little’. You of all people should understand that, unless you’re just that dense.”

“Ouch. That almost hurt,” he smiled, hand snaking around her waist.

She smacked his chest with an open hand, her palm thudding inaudibly against the material of his hoodie. “Shut up.”

“Is this the part where you expect me to say ‘make me’? How cliche of you.”

“You’re the worst.”

“And you’re holding back because you think you owe people shit. You should let go,” he said, raising his hand to cup her chin. “I’ll be right here to catch you.”

Her lips parted involuntarily, a little dumbfounded by just how… suave this guy was. She was clearly immune to his charms in some capacity, but had just enough cracks in her exterior that he knew he could slip through.

“And you said I was cliched,” she said, running her hands down his lapels and smoothing them back in place. “I’ve, uh, never done this before.”

“Made out in a library? Weak –” He cut himself off at the look in her eyes, surprise flitting across his features before he wiped it away, the teasing back in place as quickly as it left.

“Guess I underestimated you,” he murmured, glancing around to check the surrounding area.

“That’s the best dirty talk I’ve heard in awhile,” she grinned.

He raised his brows at her, challenging. “You’re that easily impressed?”

He leaned in, so close that his lips grazed her earlobe, short whiskers scratching her jawline. “Wait till you see what else my mouth can do.”

She sighed involuntarily, eyelids fluttering. She really hated how her body reacted to his voice, low and grating, the bass of it sending shockwaves into her nerves. “Fuck…”

“Think I can make you cum before the librarian does her last rounds?” He said in her ear, hand splaying across the back of her skirt, gripping her ass, chuckling when she gasped.

“What about you?” She breathed, tilting her head to expose more of her neck to him, revelling in the way he sucked and nipped her skin.

“I know you’ll get me off. I mean, look at you,” he said, cupping her breast with his free hand. She sighed again, annoyed at herself for reacting – again.

His hands roamed, settling at the front of her skirt. “Is this okay?”

She nodded, rolling her lips to keep from making noise as his fingers slipped under her skirt, fingertips grazing the inside of her thighs. She sucked in a breath when he deftly pulled her underwear to the side, the pads of his fingers sliding against her.

“Don’t tell me auntie Henrietta’s got you this worked up.”

“Stop teasing me – no time –” she managed to get out, whining when his thumb circled her clit.

God, the act of being seen alone with him was enough to get her a headlining story, and kissing him would get her blacklisted faster than her mother could call her and chew her out – but fucking him? She’d never be able to show her face in public again.

But something about the rush of being with him, making her own choices, being spontaneous, was enough to make the decision for her.

“Just shut up and fuck me, Blaine,” she groaned, her nails digging into his shoulder, forehead pressed against him as she tried to focus on containing her noises.

“Turn around,” he ordered, spinning them around so she was pressed up against the bookcase. Thank god they were in the back, hidden by the edge of it.

She gripped the wood, trying to hide the trembling of her arms as he hurriedly shoved her skirt up over her hips, bunched at her waist.

He ran his hands over her hips, digging his fingers into her flesh. He toyed with the back of her thong, slipping his hand under the fabric before dragging it to the side.

“C’mon, stop staring. We don’t have all day,” she said, glancing at him over her shoulder.

“Goddamn, Carina,” he said, low and breathy. “Keep looking at me like that and it’ll be hard to stay quiet.”

She stared at the books in front of her, browsing the titles while he unzipped his jeans and rolled on a condom.

“You’re looking for books, even now?” He laughed, reaching his hand underneath her to stroke her clit gently. “You’re something else.”

“I was not –” she said, sucking in air when he expertly curled his fingers inside of her. “Jesus –”

“You sure you’re alright with this?” He asked, pumping himself slowly – she could feel his knuckles graze her ass and it was enough to make her breaths quicken. 

“Yes, Blaine – please she could be coming by any minute now –” She was cut off by him sinking into her slowly, languidly, and she dropped her head, sighing into the crook of her elbow, arms already bent and shaking.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, rasp still twinging his voice. He leaned forward, his left arm snaking to cup her breast, the right gently grabbing her chin to tilt her head towards him.

“Look at me when I’m fucking you,” he said, dragging his thumb across her parted lips while he pumped into her slowly, hips rolling deliciously slow.

“Oh my god – I –” Her senses were overstimulated – the way he was fucking her, talking to her, looking at her – she was already putty in his hands. She moaned an incomprehensible phrase when she grinded her hips, Blaine bottoming out inside of her.

“Use your inside voice,” he laughed breathily into her ear.

She opened her jaw, sucking his thumb into her mouth, revelling in the way his lids fluttered when she ran her tongue over the pad of it.

His pace quickened, hips snapping into her. He captured her earlobe between his teeth, breathing heavily through his nose, his low gravelly moans right in her ear.

As much as Carina wanted to scold herself for getting too comfortable with him that quickly, she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

She was almost grateful for the forced tension with him via their parent’s pressuring – it made fucking him much more gratifying.

It wasn’t hate fucking, because she really didn’t hate him. He was annoying, but not evil. It was definitely a twisted act of vengeance – their reputations wouldn’t survive being caught like this, but neither of them cared in the moment.

God, it felt so good for her to just let go of the million expectations that everyone had for her to chase the one thing she wanted. That level of spontaneity was addicting – she didn’t blame Blaine for rebelling so often.

“Fuck – you’re so good –” he said, tilting her head to press hot, open mouthed kisses against her parted lips.

Probably to keep her quiet, but she enjoyed it nonetheless. He tasted so sweet, so fucking sweet –

“Blaine, please, I’m close,” she said through soft gasps, lips still touching his.

“Tell me what to do.”

“Keep going like that, and touch me, please,” she said, whining way louder than she intended to when his fingers found her again.

He covered her mouth with his hand, slowing his pace so he could scope it out. It was seemingly quiet, still, their soft pants the only sound.

She wiggled her hips, smiling against his hand when he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Such a tease,” he said, before moving his hips again.

She braced her arms against the bookshelf, pushing against him. He set a relentless pace, the low thumps of her skin against his jeans just loud enough that they definitely could have been noticed by someone a couple rows away.

“So, so beautiful,” he murmured, the words of affirmation falling from his lips as naturally as his teasing did.

The familiar intense feeling washed over her, clenching around him while white lined the edges of her vision. She folded her arms on the edge of the shelf, dipping her head so she could catch her breath.

“Can I just say that you’re looking absolutely regal right now?” He smirked, pulling out of her.

“You didn’t finish though,” she said, weakly, still recovering.

“You can make it up to me later,” he said, lightly patting her ass before pulling her skirt back in place.

“No, this can’t happen again,” she shook her head, turning to face him completely, one hand still resting on the shelf for balance. “This was a one–time thing.”

“Oh, so you’re willing to admit defeat so easily, huh? I guess Ardonians are better in every way,” he shrugged, resituating himself.

There he was again – Blaine was back to teasing, his automatic default.

She gritted her teeth, pushing his chest with a pointed finger. “You not finishing isn’t some kind of competitive edge over me –”

“It is, but continue.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. “I can’t with you. Bye.”

She pushed past him, heading back towards the tables to grab her stuff. Just as she slung her backpack over her shoulder, the door to the stairs creaked open, the librarian emerging.

“You’ll need to leave. We’re closing now.”

She nodded. “Have a great night.”

The air outside was warm, still, the last rays of sun long gone. The campus looked nearly abandoned, a few stragglers entering and exiting the residential buildings.

“Hey, Carina, wait – you forgot this –”

She turned, lips already curled in disgust. He really didn’t know when to stop.

“It’s your fancy fountain pen. Figured you needed it,” he said, tossing it to her.

“Thanks,” she said, reaching out to snatch it from his hand, but he pulled it out of her reach.

“Damn, someone’s annoyed. Turn around, I’ll put it in your backpack for you.”

“If it gets you away from me faster, sure.”

“Night, Carina. See you in class,” he grinned, giving her a solute before turning in the opposite direction.

Tatum approached her, brows furrowed. “You really shouldn’t be seen with him.”

“I know,” she sighed, tugging the straps of her bag tighter. She took off in front of him, briskly walking back towards her suite.

“Hey… stop walking for a second. I need to see something,” Tatum said, annoyance lacing his voice.

“Uh… alright,” she agreed, halting in place.

He closed the gap between them, standing right behind her. Her cheeks heated a bit, wondering if he sensed something off about her. His instincts couldn’t be that good, could they?

“What the –” he spat, the sound of light crinkling alerting her.

He circled her, holding something up. Her eyes widened when she realized what it was.

Blaine had slipped the condom wrapper into the clip of her pen before returning it.

Her hands balled into fists at her sides, wondering how the hell she got caught up with the son of her family’s nemeses, and why she loved the feeling of eating the forbidden fruit.

He was the flame, but she was the gasoline, for sure. She didn’t know how long she could fan the flame without being burned, but she found herself hoping for much, much longer.

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