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chocosvt · 3 years

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love café

⚬ pairing: jeonghan x fem!reader ⚬ word count: 17.6K ⚬ warnings: some vulgar language, i guess! ⚬ genres: big time nsfw, dirty talk, lap dances, quickies, bath shenanigans, exhibitionism, overstim - you get what i mean. big ole romance, angst, fluff, jeonghan is very rich and very hot, joshua has a not so subtle crush on you.

✧✎ synopsis: while you’ve spent the last few months pretending the love café doesn’t exist, you realize you need its services now more than ever. this brings you face to face with jeonghan, the son of a luxury fashion designer who’s got money to burn. your exchanges are strictly business. until they’re not.

✧✎ a/n: YES, ANOTHER REWRITE. the original love café was just so unsalvageable that i almost fully wiped its plot, minus the actual concept of the café. so, this should read as fairly new! I HOPE U ENJOY IT !!

It’s not that you were desperate. Because you weren’t.

You were actually more than desperate at this point, and no longer could you sit on that uneven couch with the broken leg, staring at the chipped paint, listening to your neighbours’ screams, believing you should continue like this. More than anything, you were shortchanging yourself. There was no point in holding onto that little string of hope in which those employers might phone you back. It would be impossible to contact your family when you had affirmatively cut ties with them ages ago. And, it was becoming increasingly foolish to ignore your one saving grace, just a street over from your rundown complex.

But, could you really commit to it? Would anyone even be able to look at you and think you were someone desirable enough to reward?

Those thoughts often hung over you like a dark cloud, and poured down so heavily that you were metaphorically drenched, in your own pessimism. However, on that day, you were beyond patience with the cards you’d been dealt. Such a despairing apartment, with all its bugs and drafts and horrible neighbours, could not be your brightest and most fortunate future. There had to be something you could do.

Even if it meant going to the Love Café.

In other words, an easy gig to financial heaven, in exchange for sexual pleasures of course. You walked into your bedroom and sat down in front of the wooden vanity, clicking on a dim, flickering bulb to help illuminate your face as well as its lifeless expression which stared back at you. It didn’t take more than ten minutes to pat your skin with some emptying makeup and thinning pans of eyeshadow. Then, you fixed up your hair and chose a simple, mute-coloured dress from your closet, immediately swallowed by the large winter coat you cozied into.

You hurried quickly down the corridor, ignoring the muffled shouts from your argumentative neighbours bleeding through the nickel-thin walls, past the barking dog which jumped against the door, scratching its nails whenever you waited for the elevator, and you didn’t even spare one glance at the very strange man who always hovered in the central lobby and watched you ignore his coos every single day. By the time you arrived outside the Love Café, you were breathing like a marathon runner. Despite the cold weather, you felt a sweat run like a breeze down your temple as you wiped your face before heading inside.

The space felt warm. Everything was red, pink, or white. And when you inhaled, the air smelled like a note of rose petals and candy. It was surprisingly easy to sign up for a ‘Love Card’ at the front desk.

“This card has twelve punches per service with your partner. If, by the end of the twelfth punch, you’re not looking to pursue something serious with this individual, you can pay for another Love Card. If you do manage to find, ‘the one’, then congratulations, and well wishes. Since you’re a first-time client, you get twenty-five percent off your first card.”

Whoever the lady was, she seemed less than enthusiastic as she pushed a cherry-red paper across the counter with a finely manicured nail. You thought she must have given this spiel so many times, the script probably haunted her in her sleep. Nonetheless, you thanked her, and heeded her direction when she advised you to choose any of the free tables, marked with a pale rose. For some reason, you picked the very last table amongst the row and slid yourself onto the uncomfortable, white chair, the metal back moulded into the shape of a heart.

Whoever reserved the table wasn’t exactly punctual. About half an hour after being seated, ordering yourself a tea, and examining the different clients who filtered in and out the café, you were beginning to assume the worst. That they cancelled. Flaked. Decided to pull from the service and direct their affluence elsewhere. As you titled the last few droplets of tea around the base of the cup, feeling utterly depressed and bored, you heard the little bells clink above the door, followed by a gasp from the employee at the front desk. Considering her microscopic range of emotion, you figured whoever entered must be some flawless rarity.

“Jeonghan!” She fixed her slouched position. “I wasn’t aware you made a reservation today. I haven’t seen your name in the system.”

“No worries. I set an anonymous appointment the night before. After all the chaos I caused last time, I figured it’s best to stay under the radar. I know I’m late. I was finishing up a term paper.”

“That’s quite all right. Here, I’ll just quickly renew your information. One moment… Okay, Yoon Jeonghan, you’re all set.”

At that, your eyes practically bulged right into the teacup. You’d heard his name in some conversations with a few university friends, before you had dropped your program. His father was an inventive in the fashion industry for nearly a decade, and his brand was considered high-end luxury, with people forking up the big bucks just to wear a piece from the collection. His mother recently begun a perfume company. In fact, you had a bottle from her Sunrise series sitting on your vanity, though you used each spritz very sparingly considering its outrageous price point. According to the most recent gossip, Jeonghan had ended his relationship with a model who’d been strutting his father’s cloths.

You couldn’t believe he was here.

No – even worse, you couldn’t believe he was making his way toward your table. It had to be some sort of mistake. How could it be that you chose to sit here? Was the universe attempting another cruel joke?

His visual seemed even more daunting outside his photographs in the magazines. Beyond a glossy page, he was softer. Thick hair, shiny and dark brown, which swooped beneath his ears and parted smoothly at the forehead. His lips were the same shade as the windowsill roses, as well as the high arches in his cheeks. But then, he was sharper too, with a trim, angular jaw and such a defined yet judgemental brow. You had expected anyone else but him. And now, this esteemed, much too beautiful man had come to the very last table, wearing an expression of waning curiosity. Or, as you interpreted it, clear-glass disappointment.

Before Jeonghan seated himself, he untucked his phone from his coat pocket and clicked a side button to check the time. He then sniffled, looked straight at the wall, and sighed. Despite your now devoted wish to disappear, you attempted to begin a conversation that wouldn’t backfire.

“Yoon Jeonghan. I’ve heard the name. It’s nice to meet you.”

He settled one arm on the table, tapping his fingernails.

“Yeah. I’m guessing you’re not a regular here—” he then peered over at your bright red Love Card placed by the teacup to say your name.

Bouncing your leg underneath the table, you nodded. “No, not really. I’ve been debating for a while if this was a choice I should make, but I can’t seem to have ends meet doing anything else. So, I came here.”

Already, Jeonghan looked painfully bored. He stopped tapping his fingers and leaned his chin against the hand instead. You knew it was the insecurity barking. Unnecessarily, you apologized to him.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m probably not the woman you’re expecting and I get that. I wouldn’t be all that offended if you wanted to save the Love Card for someone else or—”

Out of the blue, Jeonghan laughed, though he attempted to mute the sound by digging the bend of his index finger between his teeth. Your sentence trailed off with an awkward, dying breath. He suddenly leaned back in his metal seat, shaking his head apologetically and pulling back some of the soft hairs from his eyes. You felt utterly confused.

“Sorry, sorry,” he smiled, “didn’t mean to discourage you there, sweetheart. I’ve just never had someone apologize for—well, their looks.”

“I-I don’t know,” you lunged for damage control, “I just thought you seemed disappointed and I… Well, I haven’t done this before, so I don’t really know all that well how it works. I… I should stop talking…”

It felt as though someone had swatted both your cheeks in an iron-slap, because the skin was stinging hot like never before. You knew he was staring at you, probably thinking to himself that you were a train wreck waiting to happen. Afterward, an employee visited the table to collect your emptied teacup, and asked Jeonghan if he’d like anything to drink. Refusing to look elsewhere but the clenched fists in your lap, you waited for the employee to leave once Jeonghan rejected the offer. He’d pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket. Uncapping the pen with his teeth, you watched him sloppily scribble something down.

“My number.” He said, sliding it across the table. “Listen, I’ve gotta go home and proofread that term paper before I submit it. Just send me a text, okay? I won’t be free for a few days, anyways.”

“Oh, okay.” You sniffled.

Quite frankly, you couldn’t comprehend that he was still interested in pursuing something venereal, even when you had embarrassed yourself like a circus act. He rose quickly from the table and wrapped the waistband of his coat tight around his small waist.

Staring down at the paper, you blurted out, “are you sure?”

Jeonghan titled his head. “Am I sure of what?”

“Never mind.” You answered. “I’ll text you later.”

“Okay.” He nodded, on the verge of walking away when he abruptly stopped himself. “Are you always this nervous?”

Caught off guard by his question, your elbow whacked the edge of the table and you meekly stuttered, “I-I don’t know…”

You were more than positive he was going to ghost all your texts.

To a degree, you were correct.

Over the course of the following week, you sent Jeonghan at least three texts, each on separate days, only to be rewarded with a demotivating lack of responses. You knew he was a busy individual who probably didn’t have much time to waste on promiscuous affairs, let alone a committed relationship. So, you tried very earnestly to not feel upset or unimportant at his methods – even despite the series of required payments glaring you down from those white envelopes scattered atop the kitchen table.

And then, during the black, late hours of a snowy Friday, you received a reply. A surprisingly urgent one which detailed that you make it to the downtown Opal Studio before eleven o’clock, as there would be a backdoor entrance left unlocked for your access. He mentioned a storage closet underneath a staircase, worded very sternly as: … Wait inside, and do not make yourself known. I’ll see you there shortly, and ensure you leave without being spotted. Uncertain of what the situation would entail, you phoned a cab and payed the driver using some remaining funds from a paper note purse. The studio’s front was a smooth, velvet black, with a wide window which illuminated several mannequins wearing Mr. Yoon’s newest issue. Each outfit cost a pretty penny.

Like you anticipated, Jeonghan was late to meet you in the storage closet; however, you were at no point going to scold his blatant disregard for scheduling when he’d pressed you tight against the door looking the way he did. Buttons popped down the chest of his unwrinkled dress shirt, sleeves cuffed to his elbows, and his neat, styled hair beginning to dishevel around those intense eyes. He braced his hand beside your head, studying your lips as though they were glittering.

“Can I kiss you?” Jeonghan asked. The question seemed to rumble from deep in his throat and you felt your knees weaken.

You nodded immediately, allowing his hand to frame the side of your cheek as his warm, soft mouth nudged against yours. It was gentle for a fleeting touch, and then there was pressure, teeth, a slick tongue running across your bottom lip and leaving you in such a sensual daze that you just stood there with a parted mouth. Jeonghan definitely knew what he wanted from you in that moment. And he wanted it quick. You were flipped around, chest pushed against the door, skirt hiked up impatiently as the fabric ruffled around your hips. His hand slid between your thighs to rub you through the thin pair of underwear, pressing firmly enough that you could feel the cold, thick rings on his fingers.

Eagerly, you began a slow gyration of grinding against Jeonghan’s touch while simultaneously biting down hard on your bottom lip, knowing embarrassingly well that you were already sticky and soaking and ready for him to use you like a designated fucktoy. He was rather flush to your backside as he dug the heel of his palm against your clit, so much yet not enough between the cotton. Something about his scent was beyond arousing, and it gripped to him like a web. An expensive cologne no doubt, mature, raw, and ocean-fresh. You heard the sound of his belt being whipped open, followed by a zipper.

“Alright,” Jeonghan hummed, passing a hand up his length, “let’s make this quick. Gotta be back upstairs in five to finish the measurements and tapering and all that boring shit. Now, just be a good, quiet little girl for me, sweetheart, and this’ll be a cake walk.”

Your mouth stretched into a low, whiny groan as Jeonghan held your underwear aside and began to sink inside of you, his hips stalled against your skin. His light breath then fluttered at your ear, “bet you’d make such a perfect toy to keep my cock nice and warm. Feels so perfect, being this deep inside you, sweetheart.” He shuddered against you, thrusting once, twice, slowly and teasingly dragging himself out before ramming right back in to pinch you against the door.

“Fuck,” he cursed between his teeth, “life would be so much easier if I could just keep you right here on my cock, wouldn’t it, baby?”.

Undoubtedly, that smooth-talking tongue of his was going to be an impending problem. You don’t know where he got off exactly on such scandalous thoughts, but you were too consumed in your own lust to care. The way he fucked you against that door with one hand scraping at your hip and the other wrapped up your throat, fingers pressing hot into your drooling mouth to keep you quiet, it was more bliss than a one-way ticket to Eden. Jeonghan timed his orgasm appropriately, slipping himself from your warmth at the last second and finishing himself off using the hand which had been maintaining your silence. His breaths were slow but husky in the aftermath, his fingers painted in cum.

“You wouldn’t want to use that pretty mouth of yours to clean this, would you?” He laughed.

Before you could respond, Jeonghan had grabbed some paper towels left to sit on a shelf and cleaned the mess himself. Then, as though nothing had happened, he asked if you were carrying that damn Love Card before you could even flatten down the wrinkles in your skirt. You grabbed the small note purse you set down next to the paper towels and revealed the obnoxiously coloured card. Jeonghan smiled.

“That’s the one.” He took a dry erase marker from the shelf and wrote his initials in the first circle.

“Here,” Jeonghan proceeded to offer back the card, “one session down. I need to scram. The hall should be clear at this hour, but have a cab ready just in case you need to bolt fast. Oh—before I go, you got the money to pay the driver? It’s no problem if you’re short. I can cover.”

“N-No, I should have enough.” You answered.

“Cool. I’ll transact you tonight.” Jeonghan nodded, tucking in his shirt rather poorly before slipping past you to exit the storage closet.

One week later, you were at the entrance to the library, pulling open the door with a big, cold huff. It was much warmer inside. You were beginning to feel the tips of your stiff fingers again.

Despite your service at the Love Café, you wanted one last time to test your luck on a receptionist position at the downtown hair salon, simply because you would think better of yourself if you weren’t relying chiefly on Jeonghan to pay your bills. His last transaction had been more than you anticipated. Finally, you were able to erase that huge electricity bill, and you still had enough of the money left over to supply some warm meals for the next few days. If you could just submit your newest resume to the salon, then you might be able to permanently cover the groceries.

Except, you needed access to a computer.

Ever since you tipped over a glass of water onto your old laptop, it had stopped working properly, and the library was the only place close by which let you use the computer room without fees. However, as you peered in through the backroom window to find an open space, you realized just how crammed full it was. Judging by everyone’s intense typing and unblinking eyes, you weren’t going to steal a seat anytime soon, which pulled out a frustrated sigh as you fiddled with the USB in your pocket. You thought about heading home, until you saw Jeonghan.

He was seated at the distant left corner, leaned back comfortably in the chair while he examined something on his laptop. A gym bag was slid underneath the table, and he was dressed as though he had some sort of sports practice; quite the contrary to his usual crisp, ironed shirts and heavy winter coats courtesy of brands you couldn’t pronounce. He seemed concentrated, chewing on his thumb nail while he tapped the touch pad. In fact, he didn’t notice that you had approached him until you said his name quietly from across the table and his eyes flickered.

“Uh, hey.” Jeonghan replied, sounding bothered while he pushed his thumb harshly against his bottom lip. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“And I didn’t expect to see you.”

He shrugged, maintaining his uninterested glance on the laptop screen. “Well, I’m looking over some notes. Last minute stuff.”

You nodded. “What’s with the duffle bag?”

“My friend Joshua – he’s been making me coach this Peewee soccer team with him at the Greenfield Dome.” Jeonghan puffed out his chest, letting an arm fall loosely to his side. “Those kids are insane. They have too much energy. I shouldn’t have let that bastard sweet talk me.”

At that, you giggled, though immediately hushed yourself when the librarian came by with a metal cart, filled with books to shelve. You stepped around the table to move out of her way. Jeonghan pulled out the chair beside him using his foot and nodded that you take a seat.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out the USB.

“I need to upload my new resume. I mean, I probably won’t hear anything back from this place, ‘cause that’s how it usually goes. But, whatever. Thing is, I busted my laptop, and now the computer room is filled up. I’ll just come back later and hope it’s cleared out.” Staring down at your shoes, you avoided Jeonghan’s gaze. “I know I’m doing this Love Café stuff, but it would still be nice to have my own income, you know?”

“I get that.” He replied, scratching at his collarbone. “I’ve already got my laptop here and everything. You can use it, if you want.”

“Really?” You smiled wide. “Thanks.”

Jeonghan closed a few tabs that he’d been rotating between before sliding his laptop over to you. Wriggling the memory stick into the small slot at the side, you logged into your email account through the main search engine. As long as you could send your resume to the salon before they closed their application deadline, then you would hope for the absolute best, even if it was an unstimulating, lacklustre gig answering phones and scheduling hair appointments all day. Just as you went to drag the file into your email, Jeonghan’s laptop froze.

“Uh, Jeonghan,” you whispered, “nothing’s moving. Do I just wait? Does this normally happen? Did I screw something up?”

He shook his head and laughed. “Relax, relax. It’s been doing that a lot recently. I figured out if you hold down these keys—” Jeonghan suddenly scooted his chair in very close, his thigh pressing against yours as he reached a hand underneath your arm, the other lightly nudging your fingers off the keyboard, “then it goes back to normal. See?”

“O-Oh, yeah. It’s working.” You stuttered, not all staring at the specific keys he clicked because the side of his face was much too pretty.

Granting you access to the keyboard again, Jeonghan leaned away, though he didn’t move his thigh from yours even an inch. It was almost concerning how flustered you felt. Jeonghan had literally pinned you against a closet door and fucked his own hand right in front of you, and yet, your heart was fluttering tenfold. In a much different way. And it lit this spark of fear and adrenaline at the core of your chest like gasoline hitting a wicked flame. You detached the USB stick, logged yourself out from the email account, and moved quickly off the seat.

In a hurried breath, you said, “thanks so much!” and proceeded to leave the library as though someone were trailing you with a pitchfork.

While it was embarrassing, you knew it was necessary. There was no way you were going to crush on that boy. It was strictly business.

Tired. Aching.

Uncomfortable moisture covering the slopes and divots of your body. You didn’t think there was anything left inside you for him to so commandingly take, like his name were inked to your each and every limb. And yet, Jeonghan wasn’t ready to let you rest. The mattress dipped behind you, the heat of his chest sticking to your back, the weight of his erection pressed right at your tailbone. While his lips kissed softly up your neck, Jeonghan slid his hand in between your thighs to continue pleasuring you, ignoring the responsive whimpers attached to your sensitivity. He’d already brought you to two orgasms, though you were sensing the overbearing rush of a third.

An index and middle finger slid down to your entrance, the contact beyond slippery, a sort of wet velvet, and you hardly recognized the sensation unlike the first time he’d touched you. Jeonghan hooked the digits deep, using the heel of his palm to rub a thorough friction against your clit. Working faster and faster, his laboured breaths fanned hot across your neck while he sharply concentrated on making you starry-eyed. It was pain. It was bliss. It was exactly what you wanted most and everything you couldn’t endure at the same time. You came heavily, screamed as the pulsation at your core felt almost violent.

Unable to fully ride out the pleasure, you attempted to curl away from Jeonghan, hiding your face in the pillows and further tilting your hips. However, the boy followed your movement. He stayed snug to your back, practically leaned over top you with the latter arm braced next to your head while his hand pounded and pounded. The amount of liquid gushing onto his fingers and spilling down his wrist felt almost comical, and you were certain that you had never orgasmed so intensely in your life. To make matters worse, it seemed as though he’d taken that little memory box in your head filled with all your language and tossed it right out the damn window. You couldn’t form one word other than sobs.

Jeonghan breathed a light, shaky chuckle beside your ear. “Trying to run from me, sweetheart? When I can make you feel so good? Look at how much you can take, honey. Such a good girl when you cum so fucking hard ‘round my fingers I can barely move them.”

The sound of his digits sliding out from your entrance was the most impure, salacious noise you didn’t know could exist. Rolling slowly onto your back, you saw the immediate coating on Jeonghan’s hand and the drops beading down his wrist. He caught one with his tongue, licking all the way back up like he was cleaning the juice from a melted popsicle, and you almost couldn’t watch him. In fact, you were exhausted. There wasn’t anything left for you to offer, and the thought of moving from his bed when your core felt this utterly sore and your muscles this tight set a perfectly timed cue for your eyes to fall shut. It was heavenly.

Nonetheless, Jeonghan had a very specific rule. There was no staying past your session, and he was often strikingly clear about it. But this was the first time you’d been pushed to such a degree. He must be able to recognize that it was only a short nap you needed, and perhaps a quick minute under the shower to rid your skin of the sticky sweat.

Out of the blue, something was tossed onto your face. It was your t-shirt earlier stripped and thrown to the floor by Jeonghan. Cracking an eye open and peeling away the fabric to hang loosely from your grip, you sighed. He had already slipped back into his exercise pants.

“Seriously? I’m exhausted.”

He threw a loose flannel over the long, beaming red scrapes that you had clawed down his back, shaking his head with a huff.

“I’m not saying you need to get out right now. I’ve got a dinner with the parents at eight.” Jeonghan proceeded to drop the rest of your undergarments onto bed. “So, you gotta be gone by a quarter to, alright?”

Swallowing dryly, you nodded.

“Alright.”

The next morning, you were seated on the edge of your bed, staring with bleary eyes at the smooth, red Love Card that was initialed to its fifth circle, leaving only eight more sessions with Jeonghan. Though you approached the café with nothing more than an intention to earn money (even if the sex would be inexplicably dull), you were beginning to presume that there was more to this business than you thought. Because the sex wasn’t dull. It was concerningly amazing. And the very man who you had sworn to maintain a no-strings-attached type relationship with was throwing you for a loop. But he was boundary driven.

Be ready to go by this time. No sparkly clothes. Leave nothing in the washroom. Don’t show up here. Don’t show up there. Don’t text me unless this. Don’t call me unless that. Jeonghan knew very explicitly that you were a simple trick to relieving his stress and fulfilling his sexual desires, yet, anything further than that was laughably impossible. And, besides, it’s not like you needed to be in love or have this dazzling, perfect boyfriend. There was too much on your plate already.

You had gone to bed in a thick wool sweater, layered with the heaviest comforter you had due to the broken heating. Ignoring the cold, your next-door neighbours had found themselves in another drunken argument, forcing you to hear the unnerving crack of beer bottles and an outrageous number of insults, ranging from the very straightforward, ‘ridiculous bitch” to the audacious, “go fuck yourself, narcissistic prick.”

Thankfully, the dramatics ended just before three am.

You set the Love Card back on your nightstand. After you splashed mild water onto your face from the sink, you started multitasking, attempting to brush your teeth and remove your pyjama bottoms at the same time. Then, there was a knock at your door. You spared a glance through the peephole while the toothbrush hung from the corner of your mouth and the frigid air hit your bare legs. Upon recognizing the face reflected through the fisheye lens, you nearly choked on the mint-flavoured spit collected at the back of your throat, which forced you to unpleasantly compose yourself at the kitchen sink.

He knocked again, and you pulled the door open almost immediately, probably appearing as though you just hiked through the wilderness. Jeonghan’s eyes widened as he smiled at you.

“Damn. Sleep well?” He remarked, looking you up and down.

You were in the midst of a yawn as you answered. “Um, yes. I-I mean no. Wait, I don’t know what I’m saying. What was the question?”

Jeonghan nodded. “I’ll take that as a no.” He then reached into the pocket on his flannel coat. “Anyways, I have your phone. You left it on my bedside table the other night. Figured it’s kind of useful, I guess.”

“Oh my god. I did that?” You winced, realizing you must have been so tired and discombobulated from Jeonghan blowing your brains out that you forgot. “It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

Leaning your temple against the door, you sighed. “How was that dinner thing with your parents? Was it any fun?”

The boy shook his head, pulling out his car keys and tossing them from hand to hand. “No. It was all business bullshit. What they want me to do with my future after I graduate uni. How to be responsible with my money since they think I’m gonna blow it in a few years. Trying to structure my life around stuff I don’t really give a damn about.”

“O-Oh…” You frowned, “well, was there at least good food?”

Jeonghan stopped playing with his keys and titled his head at you. “Yeah,” he said, his eyes gentle, “they had great red velvet cake.”

Unfortunately, your neighbours must have woken up and decided it was a little too peaceful at such an hour, because you heard a loud, clanging thump echo from the room beside yours, like someone had dropped a metal pot or pan on the ground. Of course, the yelling started.

It didn’t last nearly as long compared to the night before, just a few scolding comments which were ultimately muffled. You wondered what Jeonghan was thinking as he blinked at the neighbour’s door and realized how despairing the narrow, dimly-lit hallway looked. After visiting his high-end apartment numerous times based in the luxury core of the city, with its beautiful architecture and sparkle, you were frankly a bit humiliated he was witnessing this drab part of your life – the reason you were seeking his service in the first place. You apologized through your teeth for the commotion, though Jeonghan merely shrugged.

“It’s better than nothing, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true. But those two next door can be a handful sometimes. I don’t get it. If they hate each other, then just break up. Get divorced. It’s like they want to be miserable on purpose.”

“Bet you wish you could get the hell outta here, huh?”

“All the time.” You replied wistfully. “I’m thinking of going to the mall today, actually. I need a new bath towel. Whatever gets me away.”

“You want a ride there?” Jeonghan asked, shaking his keys.

At that, you smiled a little too wide. “Maybe.”

Carefully, you picked up a thin, glass bottle of pink perfume from the display counter, tilting the liquid back and forth as the lights gleamed off the gold nozzle. Everything inside the store was diamond bright and almost blinding, while the air smelled strongly of expensive floral. The employees were tailored in smooth, sophisticated suits, which made you more petrified than usual to touch anything, hence your very delicate inspection of the perfume as you waited for Jeonghan to finish his conversation with the front clerk. Since his father’s collection was sold at the boutique, Jeonghan seemed to have a cordial relationship with the staff, and they had recognized him almost immediately.

As most of their merchandise was quite expensive, you always ignored the boutique until Jeonghan suggested you stop by. It didn’t help that there was actually some cute clothing begging to be bought, though you knew one swift glance at the price tag would change your mind. You brought the perfume bottle close to your nose and inhaled lightly.

“What does it smell like?” Jeonghan asked.

You sniffed again. “It’s sweet, though it’s not strong.”

“Let me smell.” He said, and so you raised the bottle up to his nose. Jeonghan wrapped his hand around yours as he took a breath, shaking his head in disapproval. “That’s all wrong. I don’t like it.”

“It is kind of high schoolish.” You told him, setting the test bottle back onto the counter as though you were laying down a jewel. “I just need a new scent, you know? I actually love that one bottle your mom did, the summer tropic one. It’s so peachy but mild. I’m running out.”

“For real?” Jeonghan laughed, his eyes skipping over the different shaped containers. “You use one of my mom’s perfumes?”

“Um, yeah. Have you even smelled the tropic one? It’s amazing.”

“I don’t hang around her laboratory too often.” He replied. “It gives me a big fucking headache. Smells like this place times a hundred.”

You shrugged. “I guess that’s understandable.”

Suddenly, Jeonghan had latched his hand around your elbow, pulling you around to the opposite side of the counter. He grabbed a tall, slim bottle that was made from foggy glass and a chrome silver pump.

“C’mon, give me your wrist for a second.” He said. “Try this scent. I don’t know why, but it reminds me of you.”

Pulling up your sleeve, you stuck out your wrist and allowed him to spray a thin layer against the skin. Then, you sniffed the area. At first, your forehead crinkled as you attempted to decipher its concoction of notes. There was something a little fresh and cool, but then there was this oddly mature hint of a distinguished floral scent. You couldn’t pinpoint the flower, but it was certainly addictive and very intriguing.

“It’s called Orchid Night. Smells great, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, rolling your sleeve back down “just don’t tell me what it costs. It has to be at least fifty bucks.”

“Try sixty-nine,” Jeonghan corrected, “plus tax, don’t forget.”

Immediately, you grabbed the bottle from his hand and returned the perfume to its small podium on the countertop.

“Well, let’s put it back before we break it.”

Jeonghan smirked. “I could buy it for you.”

For a split second, you were tempted to succumb, though you snapped from the thought at the last second and shook your head.

“No way. I wouldn’t let you, anyways.”

He buried his hands in his pockets, rolling those gold-copper eyes of his. Jeonghan made sure to purposefully bump into you as he walked down the bright aisle toward the clothes. “Honestly, you’re so boring, man. That scent, on you? It would be sexy.” The boy then turned around to smother you with a burning gaze. “But, fine. Have it your way.”

You hurried after him, scoffing lightheartedly to camouflage the fact your heart was beating like a broken pendulum. Jeonghan had stopped at a rack of neatly pressed clothing to sort through the hangers.

“My way is the better way,” you smiled, “always.”

Jeonghan moved the long-sleeved button-up he’d been eyeing back onto the rack, merely blowing out a puff of air.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Besides, I still need to get my bath towel.”

“We can find it on the bottom floor. At the new essentials store that just opened up. The Shower Duck, I think.”

“The Shower what?”

He couldn’t help but cackle while repeating himself. “The Shower Duck. You thought I said something else, didn’t you?”

When you were too tongue-twisted to reply, Jeonghan decided to place his fingers softly on your chin, holding your head still as he leaned in very closely to whisper, “you’re such a dirty girl, you know that?” You almost hated how casually he pulled away and continued to examine the clothing, as though he hadn’t just murmured a lascivious comment into your ear while the employees were standing a mere few meters across the store. More than anything, you desired the courage to deservingly tease him in return, to break that relaxed little shtick of his. Except, you weren’t confident nor subtle enough to attempt anything in public.

But when your eyes landed on that brand-new lingerie set wrapped primly on the nearest mannequin, you had a wonderful idea.

“No, are you being serious? Why? Why?”

His blunt fingernails sunk into the leather arms of the desk chair, scraping upward, as equally frustrated with your cruel antics as he was aroused and impatient. Maybe it was somewhat meanspirited to strut the thin, beautiful lace and ribbons curled around your body in a baby pink, and indeed, there was a moment where you pondered leniency, though, you severed the thought, because Jeonghan would surely tear each garter and bow from your outfit like it hadn’t cost anything at all. Pursing your bottom lip, you smiled, sinister and cold.

“I am being serious,” you stated firmly, nearing closer to his desk chair, “your hands won’t touch a single part of me, Jeonghan.”

He glared up at you with a dark, flickering fire in his eyes, as if he were already weighing the consequence to breaking such rules. You began to sit comfortably on the boy’s lap, curling your arms around his neck while maintaining the intensity of the stare.

“And, if you do, I’ll grab my things and leave. It’ll just be you and your hand, for the rest of the night.” Purposefully, you brushed delicate lips, featherlight, along his warm, red-tinged ear, to which you could practically feel him harden underneath you upon the whisper, “and there’ll be nothing you can do other than remembering how good it felt when I was in your lap, grinding down on you, baby boy, just like this.”

Slowly and with focus, you rolled your hips in a deep, smooth gyration, ensuring Jeonghan felt the heavy pressure against all the right places. His hands keened for your waist, so you immediately reminded him of your unnegotiable rules, forcing them to settle on the arms of the chair. He drew in a sharp breath. And then, he started to laugh, like a beaten protagonist receiving their first, acrid taste of defeat. Jeonghan titled his head back to smile very lazily at you.

“Evil.” He said. “You’re fucking evil.”

“Mmhm,” you agreed, continuing the unhurried, steadfast pace of your hips rolling back and forth, observing with poorly hidden glee as the boy lost his smile, “but you’ll still cum, won’t you, Jeonghan?”

Before he could sneak in a clever rebuttal, you adjusted yourself even lower onto his lap, digging your nails down the back of his neck as you circled a thorough motion against his erection. Admittedly, it was difficult to maintain the domineering act. Even through the black material of the slacks, his cock was managing to create a friction with your lace underwear, a friction so rough yet fruitless that you were already tempted to take him, full and aching inside you. In order to distract yourself, you licked the tender side to Jeonghan’s neck, looping your tongue in a messy, warm pattern overtop a sensitive vein.

“Ff-fuck,” Jeonghan stuttered, scraping harshly along the chair, “you devilish little girl, c-can’t believe you’re g’nna make me cum like this—b-but it feels so damn good the way you’re moving, baby.”

You suckled until you’d drawn a shiny, wine-coloured hue to the surface of Jeonghan’s skin, to mark a dark bruise as a keepsake. He kept breathing through a parted mouth, each exhale shakier and more erratic than the last, his knuckles hard like stone while they gratingly tensed and betrayed his frustration at not being able to touch you. With slow, teasing hands, you began to drag them down his chest, nails clawing at the expensive fabric of his dress shirt. Jeonghan squirmed. He clenched his jaw and cursed rough under his breath. You focused on where his cock was poking you to apply the most dizzying pressure thus far, rolling your hips until something inside Jeonghan snapped and you felt him cum.

“Jesus—fuck!” He shouted, the loudest you had ever heard the boy, and there was a notable tear in his usually soft voice. “Keep going, keep going,” Jeonghan panted, squeezing his eyes shut, “keep fucking moving just like that, sweetheart. A-Ahh, ff-fuck, feels s-so good—"

At the pulsating sensation right beneath your core, you submitted to Jeonghan’s wish and continued grinding down, even if you were beginning to tire at your lack of stamina. However, there came a point where you were too breathless to maintain such a pace, so you trickled to a halt and steadied your hands on his firm shoulders. He tossed his head back, neck leaned against the edge of the chair. The hazy, glass look to his brown eyes and the rose glow smeared on each cheek made it appear as though he’d just touched down from heaven. As you shifted slightly in Jeonghan’s lap, you noticed the white stream of cum that had soaked through his pants, and that somehow, he was still hard.

“I didn’t know you could beg, Jeonghan.” You remarked, grinning, meanwhile attempting to catch your breath.

He shook his head. “Don’t expect it too much.”

“Well, I can tell you’re satisfied, either way.”

He chuckled, brushing some of the loose hairs from his face. You felt his hands settle upon your waist’s bare skin, warm and squeezing. In that moment, you just didn’t possess the same acuteness to scold him.

“Almost,” Jeonghan huffed, “but, what do you suppose you’ll do to please yourself, sweetheart?” He leaned forward, until his forehead was just a sliver away from bumping yours, the boy sliding a hand down your abdomen and beneath the lace underwear. As he stroked the tips of his fingers along your slit, he smirked. “I’ve never felt someone so wet before, dripping all over my fingers and I’m barely touching you. Did it turn you on that much, sweetheart? Feeling my hard cock right underneath this needy pussy of yours?” Jeonghan teased with a smirk and a low, calm tone. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to duct tape his mouth shut or allow him to keep talking, as there was something about his honeyed voice which wound you up like clockwork.

Yet, before you could even start the syllable of a response, Jeonghan pushed you strongly from his lap, his hands glued to your waist as he guided you to stumble against the bed. Your back hit the mattress, the sheets puffing up around you. And then, Jeonghan was kissing you, lips clashing messily while he took advantage of the switched power dynamic to run his hands over your every inch. One second, they were cupping your breasts overtop the baby pink bralette. Another second, they were grabbing at your ass and kneading so desperately. You were being ravaged. It was overwhelming, it was gratifying, it was needed beyond belief.

“Hey,” Jeonghan said, separating his mouth from the side of your throat to stare at you with an oddly sentimental eye, “before I get all up in your guts and everything— you look beautiful. Even if you did choose this outfit to be a big fucking tease.” His fingers brushed down the edge of your jaw, and he smiled at you in a way that wasn’t clever or teetering on sarcasm. Your heart leapt like a little frog in your chest.

“Really?” You questioned him, not because you didn’t believe the lingerie suited your figure, but rather, you weren’t expecting this sweetness from someone who was always so quick to get rid of you.

He nodded, raising a suspecting eyebrow. “Yeah, really. What, you think I’m lying to you or something?”

“No, I don’t think that,” you answered quickly, curling your fingers into the bedsheets, “I just—I wasn’t… Uh, never mind.”

“Alright,” Jeonghan laughed, lowering his head to delicately kiss your cheek, and then your neck, “you’re a bit strange sometimes, you know that?” He mumbled against the sensitive skin, even daring to dig his knee between your thighs to make you increasingly pliable.

“I-I know,” you stuttered, unable to help your embarrassing voice crack. But you still smiled, letting Jeonghan explore and pleasure your body with an uncharacteristic tenderness for the remainder of the night.

Twelve am.

Usually, at this time, you’d be at the bottom floor of his apartment complex, seated by the lobby water fountain. You’d be examining your face with a pocket mirror, awaiting the yellow taxi cab, and trying to avoid eye contact with the wealthy businesspeople filtering from the elevators in glamourous congregation.

However, tonight was different.

Tonight, you were in Jeonghan’s bed, with a white sheet covering the lower half of your bodies, an ear pressed to his bare, warm chest while you breathed him in like the wind on a bright summer’s day. You felt his fingertips trace long figure eights down your spine and then dance back up to the subtle curve of your shoulder blades. Sometimes it tickled, other times it was a touch so soft it was hardly there, and in between you thought he might have been tracing words. The room was quiet. But good quiet— the comfortable quiet. And then you heard Jeonghan speak into the crown of your head while his hand stilled at your waist.

“Did that salon ever call you back?” He asked.

You sighed, focusing on your thumb which brushed a small freckle on his pectoral muscle. “They emailed me, and said their position was already filled, but that they’ll try to look for another opening.”

Jeonghan rubbed your hip. “That’s good, right? I mean, they didn’t just flat out reject you. They’re gonna keep you in mind.”

“It’s better than what I’m used to getting,” you answered, pressing your lips together and tilting your head up at him.

And, that’s when it struck you, like someone had just clanged a bell right beside your head. You were still in Jeonghan’s bed. You were still in Jeonghan’s apartment. You were still with Jeonghan. Feeling as though you’d broken some vastly significant cardinal rule, you operated on a strange basis of panic and autopilot, already seated at the edge of the mattress while you tucked your underwear back on.

“I’m sorry,” you spewed, reaching for your shirt next and straightening it out frantically in your lap, “the time escaped me. I-I know I have to go. And, my Love Card, I think it’s in my purse or—”

“Can you slow down?” Jeonghan laughed, casting a hand through his loose, disarrayed hair which you had admittedly tugged earlier in the night like your life depended on it. The boy’s arms circled around your midframe, hugging your back to his chest. “I don’t care about that stupid card right now,” Jeonghan hummed into your ear, “stay.”

At that, you almost choked. “Stay? You want me to stay?” You repeated dumbly, dropping the inside-out shirt back onto your lap.

The coldest shiver split down your spine as Jeonghan buried his face against your neck, taking a breath of your scent, kissing your skin.

“Yeah,” he purred, now pecking the soft spot behind your ear, “I want you to stay. Or, if you really want to go home, I won’t stop you.”

“No,” you replied almost immediately, melting into his voice, his touch, his body, “trust me, I’d rather be here.”

Jeonghan’s arms relaxed their snug grip.

“I figured that.”

Even though you had strongly protested the idea, Jeonghan succeeded at wearing you down akin to an ocean tide forming whorls into rock, and now you were seated before your vanity with an array of makeup scattered at your fingertips as you prepared for a dinner. His parents were going to be there, in addition to some business partners and close friends, which sounded like something from a hellish nightmare. In fact, Jeonghan himself didn’t seem all that eager to attend. He’d been sprawled across your bed for the past half hour, with the long drapes of his coat fanned around him, as he flipped through an old magazine. You were certain he just didn’t want to tough another dinner alone.

After focusing a spritz of perfume to your neck (the orchid one, bought by Jeonghan, because he was very insistent that you not smell like his mother) you shut off the vanity lights and sighed.

“I think I’m ready… Physically though, not mentally.”

Jeonghan yawned, tossing the magazine aside before he pushed himself to sit upright on the bed. He rubbed at his eye.

“Trust me, it’s not going to be the big, royal midnight ball that you’re picturing. My parents have these dinners all the time. You’ll be the centre of attention for a few minutes, and then it’s pretty much just business central from there. You’ll be lucky if you can even get a word in. I stopped trying months ago.”

You smiled at him, feeling slightly better about the situation, and took one last, scrutinizing glance in the mirror. The dress was simple yet elegant, a mute shade of dark blue with a beaded, crystal belt that you had forgotten about, as you discovered it laying behind a stool shoved in your closet. The fabric had an elastic tightness to it and was hemmed shorter than you remembered, just above your fingertips. You tried not to judge or overthink the figure which reflected in the vanity glass, or what Jeonghan’s parents might assume upon their first introduction to someone who was so clueless on their accolades. It was merely a dinner.

“Stop worrying so much,” Jeonghan hummed, sensing that you were at the forefront of a spiral. His hands settled to your hips and he caught your eye through the mirror. “No one is going to judge you, or poke fun at you, or say anything mean. I promise.” He then grabbed your winter coat off the bed, helping you slide into the arms, and even doing up the buttons. “You’re gorgeous.” Jeonghan said, tapping your chin.

It didn’t help that he could fluster you so easily.

Joshua wasn’t at all who you expected him to be, while simultaneously encompassing everything you would indeed expect from the position of Jeonghan’s closest friend. He was a juxtaposition personified. Slick, ash blonde hair combed into a handsome wave, eyes which twinkled like the restaurant’s diamond chandelier, and a soothing voice which could be a cup of warm milk on a frosty day, though his interactions with Jeonghan portrayed him as childlike and frivolous. He greeted you, at first with a quick hug. You heard him exhale deeply.

“Wow,” Joshua commented, retreating to shake your hand, “you smell amazing! I mean—well, I hope that doesn’t sound weird.”

You laughed, and wondered how someone could smile with such a prettiness. “Thank you! I’d be upset if you didn’t notice, actually.”

Joshua continued to shake your hand. “Oh, yeah, agree. It’s wonderful to meet you. Jeonghan’s been trying to hide you, it seems.”

“Go shove a break stick in your mouth,” Jeonghan scoffed, blowing a loose piece of hair from his eyes, “and stop shaking her hand like that. You’re gonna snap her whole arm off.”

Finally, Joshua released his grip, and your arm fell back to your side like a limp noodle. His cheeks were starting to turn pink.

“I was not. Anyways—” he nodded at you, “like I said, nice to meet you. I hope we’ll talk more tonight and I’ll pick your brain.”

“Sure thing,” you answered, waving the boy off as he returned to the dinner table before facing Jeonghan. “He seems nice.”

“And totally into you. I haven’t seen him shake someone’s hand like that since I introduced him to Elouise from France. He’s gonna turn into a lost puppy all over again. Bet he’ll try to sweet talk you later.”

“Can’t wait.” You grinned, already giggling through your teeth.

Jeonghan c0nsquently thwapped your forehead with his finger.

However, meeting Jeonghan’s parents was starkly different than the good-humoured Joshua. They both appeared cross, and firm, and before you had even shaken their hands you were forced to wipe yours against your dress. The father was a bit softer around the edges, showing you a pleased smile that reminded you instantaneously of Jeonghan, while the mother was stone-faced and seemed as though she hadn’t slouched since birth. Even when she complimented your fragrance, there was a tartness to her voice which made it sound disingenuous.

“Well, Jeonghan,” she said, clasping her hands together, “I’m glad to finally see you with a lovely lady on your arm. I didn’t think it was possible that you could settle for someone after being with Baejin.”

“Oh?” The father piped up, “you’re my son’s girlfriend?”

Before you could respond, Jeonghan had beaten you to it.

“No, she’s…” he bit his lip hard, “she’s just a friend. Mom kept nagging that I always come to these dinners alone, and she was down.”

For some reason, it felt like someone had pierced a pin straight through your heart – a very tiny hole which shouldn’t hurt all that much, yet stung like flesh to orange, glowing metal. In fact, there was a visible shift in your countenance, from a nervous smile to a sunken frown, but you were able to veil it very quickly and pretend nothing was wrong. Why should you feel so disappointed that Jeonghan had introduced you as a friend? The promiscuous nature of your relationship didn’t immediately loop you two together as soulmates, or lovers, or even the mildest beginnings of boyfriend and girlfriend. You tried to refocus yourself.

Jeonghan’s mother nodded. “Even if she isn’t your next Baejin, it’s nice to meet a new face. The dinner talk might bore you no doubt.”

“No, not at all—” you forced a smile, “I’m just excited to be here.”

It was easier to endure the night than you thought, because true to Jeonghan’s word, the conversation was a bunch of business lingo that you didn’t exactly understand, with the occasional question flitted to you by Joshua who sat across the table. You had completely emptied your glass of ice water, and were halfway through your wine when two fancy, tuxedoed servers stopped by the table to collect everyone’s dishes. A distant relative was seated to Jeonghan’s right, and they had swept him into a discussion of whether or not he was interested in pursuing his current degree or if he would abandon it to work fulltime for his father’s brand. Meanwhile, Joshua had whisper-shouted your name.

You raised an eyebrow, “what?”

“Are you getting dessert?” The blonde asked, already shoving a small, plastic menu to his face. “I can’t decide what I want.”

“I guess so,” you picked up an extra menu sitting by a purple wine bottle and started to browse the list of decadent food.

Joshua sighed, “I usually get the cheesecake… but, I’m torn. What if I want the caramel apple baked pudding with black truffles?”

“The caramel apple baked what?” You questioned, laughing from the absolute mouthful that Joshua just worded so effortlessly.

“I know, I know. It’s a jumble. But my family and I come here all the time so I’ve gotten these names down pat. What are you thinking?”

“Um, I’m not sure. I’ve never been here before, actually.”

His eyes, glistering and delighted, locked with yours. “Can I recommend you something, then?” Joshua said while smiling. “Red velvet cake. It’s right at the bottom. Not to mention the slice is huge so there’s always leftovers for the next day. It’s a favourite here.”

The relative responsible for dragging Jeonghan into another trite conversation concerning his future had excused themselves from the table. He was finally able to return his attention to you, and you slid over the dessert menu so he could pick something. You noted that Jeonghan’s hand had fallen onto your thigh, right at the hem of your dress, and you could only surmise that trouble was brewing. Joshua took a sip from his water glass, then settled it back on the table while subtly eyeing you.

“So, I’ve never seen you around before. Are you in school?”

You tapped your nails against the white table cloth, shaking your head, “no—I had to drop my program. It just wasn’t what I thought it would be and, well, I took a huge hit financially. So, no school.”

“Not everything is going to be a bullseye,” Joshua said, “I’m sure there’ll be more opportunity down the road. This other friend of mine, his name is Mingyu, he does this thing called the Love Café—” the boy then gestured to Jeonghan, “and I know he’s done it once before. Have you heard of it? Maybe it’s not up your alley, but I hear it’s good money.”

The suggestion had quite visibly stunned you. It seemed that Jeonghan was intent to keep the foundation of your relationship as covert as possible, which prompted his ‘friends’ comment before dinner, therefore you had no choice but to follow the rouse, even if the boy was currently sliding his hand further up the inside of your thigh, pushing inch by inch under your dress. Jeonghan didn’t contribute a single word.

“Um, the name sounds familiar. I’ll have to look it up.” You then glanced at him, hanging his head over the menu like a child who forgot their glasses, probably hiding some million-watt smirk.

“Are you having dessert?” Joshua asked his friend.

Jeonghan sat up straight, nodding, “I am.”

“The red velvet cake?”

“Vanilla ice cream. The one that comes on the skillet.”

“Oh, that one’s seriously good,” Joshua groaned, “ask them to put a chocolate chip cookie on the side. It gets all warm and—”

“Joshua,” the young lady beside him, probably in her late twenties, with petal-shaped, twinkling eyes similar to his and ice-like smooth skin, suddenly wrapped her hand around his arm, “can you come outside with me for a few minutes? I think I left my wallet in the car.”

He pushed out his chair. “Sure thing—guys, I’ll be back in a few. I need to help my cousin. If the waiter comes, order for me please.”

While you might have promised Joshua to follow through on his unnecessarily complicated apple pudding, such thoughts were quick to be discarded the moment he’d left the table, as Jeonghan had given you much more to think about. The boy’s hand was wedged between the apex of your thighs with two fingers pressed flat against your underwear. You felt heat, and the faintest burning of pleasure, one that yearned for you to start a gentle undulation against his hand because your unruly body was already eager for stimulation. Jeonghan picked up his wine glass.

“What are you doing?” You tried to shelter the whisper from the table’s guests, hoping the business speech was too engrossing.

As laid back as an ironing board, Jeonghan took a long gulp from his drink, swishing the wine from cheek to cheek before he swallowed. He set the wide-rimmed glass back down and wiped his mouth.

“What do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’” He said, raising an eyebrow at you as though you’d conjured a make-believe tale. However, the instant he started to slide up his index finger so it could push firmly against your clit, a smirk penetrated that complacent expression.

You grabbed his wrist, stared him dead in those honey-brown eyes. “Are you insane?” the whisper was harsh, “we’re in public.”

He tilted his head indifferently. “What’s your point, love? I get to play with your pussy whenever I want. It’s mine now. Remember?”

The dirty-mouthed comment split a fire beneath your cheeks like a flint cracking steel. Not only that, but Jeonghan studied each minor contort of your face as he slipped two digits beneath your underwear, brushing his fingertips ever so softly around your sensitive clit. You gulped, dry and gritty, hating that your thighs were starting to spread.

“Jeonghan!” A voice called his name from down the table.

Fear gripped your poor heart like latex glove. It was an older relative, asking him to pass down the remaining bottle full of wine.

“Oh, such a nice boy!” She chirped.

You nearly gawked at the remark considering the immoral placement of his hand and what he was doing. On the contrary – as much as you wanted to be embarrassed for allowing Jeonghan to touch you in public viewing– he knew his talents much too well, and the manner in which he used your own arousal to lubricate the massaging motion of his finger to your clit was an astounding bliss. Your legs fell wider apart, inviting him to explore a more rigorous touch, and that’s when Jeonghan curled his two fingers inside of you until his knuckles couldn’t fit.

Before your pinched expression could be caught by anyone at the table, you looked straight down at your lap, watching his wrist work beneath the navy-blue fabric. In fact, very faintly, you could hear the squelch from his digits pumping deep and slow into your warmth. Your bottom lip was quivering as he drew them out, now running the long length of his fingers upward to graze beneath the hood of your clit. He repeated a stroking gesture. It triggered the nerves to swell and pulse.

“I see Joshua walking back,” Jeonghan murmured, an arrogance thick in his voice, “and you don’t want him to find out about this, do you? Or, maybe I’m wrong.” He slid his entire hand beneath your underwear and cupped your centre, squeezing like he owned it. “Maybe you want him to know you’re such a whore of a girl that you’ll take my fingers anywhere. I mean, look at how much you’ve opened your legs, and I didn’t even ask you to. I love when you behave just for me, honey.”

Joshua collapsed back at the table with a huff, combing some snow flurries from his hair. “We found the wallet.” He said.

Yet, you couldn’t even bring yourself to face him. Jeonghan had spread your lips with his index and ring finger, using his middle digit to make rhythmic, deep circles around the bud. An erotic whine escaped your teeth and Joshua’s eyes widened; his face tinged with concern.

“Are you alright?” He questioned. “Did you get a Charlie horse?”

“N-No, I’m fine, really.” You composed yourself with a weak smile, and took a sip from your wine. “I got one of those rib pains.”

The blonde boy winced. “Ouch, those hurt big time.”

Honestly, you didn’t think it was possible to endure dessert without revealing to some degree that you were being, well, stretched open by Jeonghan. It was sheer torture staring at the waiter while he took your order, knowing the boy was lazily pumping his fingers inside you with a half-smirk seated so comfortably to his face. When that huge, delicious slice of cream red velvet cake was placed before you on the table, you could only fork a few pathetic bites, and when Joshua offered you to try a spoonful from his warm apple pudding, you nearly squealed the word no as Jeonghan rolled your sore clit between his fingertips. The most egregious aspect to the entire daubable was that the boy stripped your orgasm from you at the very last second, like stopping a rollercoaster just before it tips over the downhill plummet.

“How was the ice cream?” Joshua asked him innocently.

You observed with horror as Jeonghan brought that sinful hand to his mouth, lapping his tongue against his two fingertips as though he were actually savouring a sweet and flavourful vanilla.

“Delicious.” He grinned, catching your mortified stupor from the corner of his eye. “I’d taste it again in a heartbeat, Shua.”

Dropping the slice of bread into a shallow bowl, you used the spatula to submerge it underneath the milk, egg and cinnamon mixture until it was completely coated. Then, you slid the bread onto your buttered frying pan to let its surfaces crisp and brown. Since you began utilizing the service granted by the Love Café, life at your depressing excuse for an apartment was becoming more bearable, though your ultimate goal would be to ditch the paper-thin walls and insult-spewing neighbours once money was no longer a prevalent issue. You were still insistent on supporting yourself too, if you could ever score a job.

You flipped the bread onto its opposite face, pressing it down with the spatula as the pan sizzled and the butter popped. A few days had passed since your last intimacy with Jeonghan, and the proof would have been stamped to your Love Card if the boy had actually written his initials like usual. The thing was, Jeonghan – who had always been so firm and unwavering on the rules of the café – was now skirting about the regulations as though they were optional. There were days when he didn’t even initial the card, but still delivered his transactions. In fact, you were almost positive that sex had happened more than twelve times and that you could be renewing your card if wanted (you didn’t).

As silly and cliché as it sounded, you liked Jeonghan. You constantly thought about him and missed him and wondered what he was doing while you were trapped in bed listening to another argument between your spiteful neighbours. There was always a deep, electric pounding in your chest upon weaving the tips of your fingers along his skin, touching him, exploring him. Yet, when he held you close, tucked your body tight against his like there was nothing surrounding you but ice, comfort found a home in your belly like a warm, homecooked meal.

After spilling some icing sugar and strawberries across the toast, now fried a delicious shade of golden-brown, you took a seat at the counter and dug in. There had been an occasion where Jeonghan brought you breakfast after warping your legs into complete gelatine (you had no idea that kitchen table sex could be so fiery and passionate), which proved to be a pleasant morning, where you could still feel the softness of his thumb as he kindly brushed some whipped cream from your bottom lip. You sighed, sticking a strawberry into your mouth. How foolish it might be to fall this far and this devotedly for someone like him.

But you didn’t want to stop yourself.

In fact, you reached for your phone across the counter, swiped into your messages, and decided to be bold. You texted him.

[ 9:29 AM ]: Hey! I know that I’m not supposed to send you anything unrelated to our business lol, but

[9:29 AM ]: Just wondering if you’re available to grab a coffee with me or something along those lines?

Setting the phone down and turning it over so you wouldn’t be tempted to helplessly wait for a notification, you continued eating. After scraping the last few pieces of toast and syrup around the plate, there was a vibration and a quick, ding! Strangely, you were starting to sweat.

[ Jeonghan | 9:34 AM ]: Sorry. In a lecture rn.

Of course, your surge of bravery immediately dehydrated, and you decided it was best to pretend that you hadn’t asked him anything at all – for your confidence’s sake. The next two hours were spent cleaning the kitchen, taking a short walk outside the complex to feel the Northern air refresh your face, and finally, a long bath, in which you nearly fell asleep and drowned as the steam lulled your eyes shut. While wrapping your body snug in that new, hot pink bath towel, you heard a knock at the door. You assumed it was the painter who occupied the room directly below yours, as you had borrowed his vacuum the night before, though you weren’t exactly raving at the thought of answering him in a towel.

However, by squinting through the fisheye lens, you were shocked (and greatly relieved) to discover that it wasn’t the middle-aged painter dressed in his splattered, dirty overalls, but Jeonghan.

And he was holding a drink.

You unlocked the door.

“Uh, hello after all. What are you doing here?”

He smiled at you and held up the cardboard cup, “my lecture ended, and I thought I’d do you a solid. Couldn’t remember if it was two sugars-one cream, or two creams-one sugar. So I tossed a coin.”

“What exactly was the result?” You giggled.

“Heads,” Jeonghan answered, “two sugars-one cream it is.”

“You’re lucky that’s correct.”

Accepting the warm cup from his hand, you set it carefully on the kitchen counter. When you returned to the door, Jeonghan was evidently ogling you. He really suited the image of a casual university student when he wasn’t dressed to gems and jewels in his sumptuous clothing.

“I knew the hot pink towel would look good on you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not dropping it, so forget it.”

“Whoa,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “I didn’t ask you to drop it, sweetheart. I’d rather you not actually, with this door wide open and everything.”

“Did I really just hear that from you, Mr, Dinner Table?” Folding your arms, you stared him down with an accusing expression.

He held up one finger in defense. “First of all, that was under the table, so unless someone bumped their fork or something, then we were pretty much safe. This is you dropping your whole towel right in the doorway like there isn’t a weirdo probably peeping you across the hall as we speak. And I’m not letting anyone look at you like that, ever.”

“Fine,” you sighed, hoping he couldn’t spot the flustered heart pumping your chest beneath the towel, “you’ve made your point.”

Jeonghan checked his silver wrist watch, “fuck. I gotta get going, need to be at the studio so I can be a taper dummy again.”

“Oh, okay,” you nodded, “talk to y—”

Suddenly, the boy was cupping each side of your face in his hands, and his lips pressed soft but quick to your forehead. Jeonghan then pinched your thigh under the towel, a gesture which felt oddly endearing rather than sexual, before he left the corridor.

“Later!” He’d called.

Shutting the door, you returned to your seat at the counter, holding the coffee cup up to your mouth as you took a small, nervous sip.

How could you let yourself fall this easily for him?

Jeonghan’s washroom was somehow nicer than your entire apartment, and you were fairly certain that your eyes had never seen so much white-grey marble, all squeaky-clean and aglow with lights. He’d shot you a text roughly an hour ago, right after he was released from the painful effort required to keep Joshua’s peewee soccer players in check, wondering if you were available to come over. Of course, the innocence to the term ‘come over’ was nothing more than a euphemism, a means of sugar coating what Jeonghan actually intended: to be inside you no doubt. And since the boy was so drained and unwilling to instigate any work himself, Jeonghan decided that a steaming, hot bath should do.

Well – a bath which involved you seated on his dick. The tub was dark grey tile, square-shaped, and practically the size of a small jacuzzi. It even had a bench to sit on. While it had been difficult at first to simply cockwarm the boy – when all you could feel was how deeply he spearheaded into your sensitive spot and how this shock would ripple from your abdomen at even his gentlest movement– you knew he wasn’t looking to make things quick and temporary. Therefore, you settled into his lap, wrapping your arms around Jeonghan’s neck while his circled your waist beneath the water. Both of you were starting to fall asleep.

“Jeonghan,” you whispered, lifting your head from his shoulder, only to remember that you were indeed naked and this heat lapping around you was definitely not a blanket, “can I tell you something?”

With his eyes still shut, he nodded, his fingers digging appreciatively at your hips. “Of course you can, baby.” He replied, his voice sounding deeper than usual as he orientated on the edges of sleep.

Smiling, you combed through the damp hairs at his nape, your voice reverberating like a musical instrument off the marble. “Remember the salon place? They called me two days ago, said they had an opening for me and that I could start next Monday. I… I wanted to text you about it, like, as soon as it happened. But I wasn’t sure if I should.”

“What? Really?” Jeonghan was staring at you now, his head straightened from its leisurely position against the edge of the tub and cocked with interest. The fact he seemed so intrigued, that you could read the genuine excitement building up in those brown eyes, had almost made you happier than the salon’s phone call. “Congratulations!” He leaned forward to kiss you, pecking your lips chastely the first time, and then slower come the second, his hands squeezing your thighs.

After a tiny laugh, you sighed contentedly. “Thank you. It’s going to be so nice having my own cashflow and everything. And if I can work my way up and become like, a kickass hair stylist? Can you imagine?”

“Should I grow my hair out more so you can practice cutting it? You’ve got a steady hand, don’t you?” Jeonghan asked, mostly teasing, as you could imagine his parents harping him during his next session at Opal Studio if he looked as though he’d ran through some hedge clippers.

Returning the affection, you kissed the rosy tip of his nose. “I think my hands are pretty steady. We’ll find out I guess, and we’ll know for sure if a huge chunk of your hair falls to the floor.”

Your laughter immediately mingled, and you hid your smile against the boy’s neck, a very moonstruck, loopy smile which felt like riding a blazing comet between the stars. If you were legitimately able to climb higher amongst the business, then you could picture a life in which you didn’t need to lean on Jeonghan and the Love Café for financial support. In fact, there were moments where you felt rather dirty using his money even when he was completely insistent on such matters, like buying food and paying off bills. You held tight to a certain hope, that you could become independent again, and maybe, just maybe, be able to keep this beautiful boy whom you once thought would hate you.

His fingers tapped up your spine, urging you to face him.

“Seriously,” Jeonghan said, “I’m happy for you.”

“I know,” you answered, so quietly he could hardly hear it.

And then, you decided to kiss Jeonghan, placing your damp hand upon his cheek while your mouths slotted together. The contact had lost its grace almost instantly, and the kiss turned from a sweet gesture to a sensuality so thick you could feel it swelter the air and pool between your legs. He offered his tongue for you to suckle by sliding it smoothly into your mouth, and from there, Jeonghan’s intended relaxation had vanished. His hands grazed to the front of your body, reaching up and sliding back and forth over each breast. It wasn’t until Jeonghan began massaging his thumbs in circular motions around your nipples that you moaned into his mouth, a sound which flicked a smirk to his face.

Once his lips were shiny and slick with your saliva, he moved each kiss down the side of your neck, now pinching at your nipples, even twisting gently and making sure to ease the dull throb by rubbing them afterward. It was becoming unbearable. You needed to move. However, the second you started a rhythm in Jeonghan’s lap, he shook his head.

“Be still,” he told you, lightly gripping your chin.

The desperation in your whine was horribly apparent, almost soaking each word. “No Jeonghan, I-I can’t do that anymore—” ignoring him, you continued to grind your hips and move the water around you, feeling his engorged head tick against that one spot of insane pleasure, “I need t’cum now, all over your cock.” With every bounce in his lap, you begged, “please, please, please.” This prompted Jeonghan to grab your waist much tighter than usual and slam you down, holding you still.

“No, not like that,” he grunted, and you wondered if his control was simply otherworldly or if he was just that talented at hiding how good he felt. “I’ll make you cum, sweetheart,” Jeonghan nodded, “but you can’t move. I just want you to sit there, all the way down.”

He then leaned in close to your face, nearly pressing his forehead to yours, and that’s when you felt his thumb brush with a featherlight, fleeting touch across your clit. The sudden stimulation jerked your body. Jeonghan bit his lip and grinned while continuing the sensitive touch, the pressure becoming heavier with each minute that passed. Your thighs started to tremble, and your moans were echoing around the washroom.

The honeyed dirty talk crawled up Jeonghan’s throat. “You’re such a cute little cocksleeve, sweetheart,” he purred, titling his head as he rubbed his thumb faster, “oh, look at you, baby. Shaking and crying and taking it like it’s the only thing you’re good for—” a messy kiss to calm you down, thin strings of saliva hanging in the air each time your mouths separated, “I bet you’re gonna cum for me soon, right?” The boy encouraged, keeping his forehead flush to yours so he could observe with utmost clarity the beautiful contortions of your face. “I know you are, sweetheart. Because it feels so good, right?” You nodded frantically, digging your fingers into his neck like a cat sinking in its claws. Jeonghan’s thumb pushed beneath the hood of your clit, directly massaging the soft bud, and the pleasure inside you leapt to a new high which made you dumbly lose all sense.

“Cum.” Jeonghan commanded so gently, his gaze burning against your eyes, squeezed shut. At the straightforward word, you allowed the sensation to swallow you like a current, and the hot, teary cry you mewled had been quickly snuffed as the boy pushed his lips to yours.

“Can feel you clenching so fucking tight around my cock,” he chuckled, digging his nose into your hair and speaking warmly beside your ear, “and how much you’re throbbing right under my thumb. Must feel so good, sweetheart, cumming all over me like such a good girl.”

You slumped against him, overwhelmed, emptied, and breathing so heavy that you were afraid the oxygen might dwindle completely from your lungs. The fact Jeonghan could remain so composed while buried to the hilt in your heat was something else that frightened you, though, in the moment, you preferred not to think about it, instead concentrating on the distant sensation of Jeonghan drawing galactic shapes to each your shoulder blades.

Hopefully, he’d let you stay the night.

Once you started the receptionist job at the hair salon, you had bumped into Joshua on a Friday evening. While his platinum blonde look was indeed enchanting and princely, he complained that it was difficult to maintain the roots, and that he often found himself back in the stylist’s chair for a touch up. He’d come in on a whim. Luckily – due to the late hour – there was an open seat, and Joshua puffed a great sigh of relief as he hooked his jacket onto the salon coat hanger. Curious if there was more behind the reason to his abrupt appearance, you conversed with him while he waited for the stylist to tidy up her work area.

That’s when Joshua informed you of the Opal’s Galleria Night, a fashion exhibition which would display Mr. Yoon’s newest edition for his upcoming Spring line. Joshua seemed surprised that you hadn’t known about the Galleria, or, that Jeonghan hadn’t mentioned it to you. Oddly enough, Jeonghan had been radio silent the past three days; not a phone call, or a voice memo, or even a text. Yesterday you had hoped to catch him stuck in the books at the library, but the area where he usually sat was occupied by a study group of freshman. It concerned you a little.

An ungraceful quickie in the washroom after his three-hour lecture ended on Tuesday was your last encounter. Not to mention, there was only one more opening left on your Love Card.

“He didn’t say anything,” you told Joshua, pretending to act indifferent “so… I don’t think he wants me there. It’s not a big deal.”

Yet, that’s not how you truly felt. There had to be some reason for the boy’s keeping you in the dark. Did he not want to explain the ‘friends’ trope to all the Galleria members, like at the dinner? Or, was he thinking that you wouldn’t be interested? It wasn’t easy to seem unphased.

“Jeonghan doesn’t need to invite you,” Joshua had said, “cause I’ll invite you myself. Mr. Yoon said it was more than fine if I brought someone along. So, why not you? It’ll make the night more fun.”

At first, you vehemently rejected the invite, no matter how sweetly Joshua attempted to rope you into a night of free perfume samples, delicious catering food and a chocolate fountain perfect for dipping strawberries. However, when the hair stylist pulled Joshua away to fix his darkening roots, you had much time to mull over the offer, and even the fact you felt poignant about dismissing it. As you tapped a pen against the desk, staring out the window into the grey, dulling sky, you convinced yourself there could be no harm in attending the Opal’s Galleria Night. Besides, you and Jeonghan weren’t cast in stone. He probably wouldn’t bat any eyelash anyways, knowing his eased nature.

And so, you caught Joshua just before he left.

You told him you’d changed your mind.

When Jeonghan first saw you at the Opal Galleria, it was from across the ballroom that had been temporarily converted into an exhibition space, stood next to a mannequin draped in a cherub-pink slip dress. Almost comically, he gagged on some sparkling champagne held in a thin and tall glass, though he recovered smoothly as to not interrupt the conversation his father was sharing with the dense crowd. You waved at him, not too noticeably of course, but he either didn’t catch it or had decided to ignore the gesture. Shrugging, you tried not to overthink it.

Mannequins were lined up along both sides of the ballroom, adorned in the mild tones baring semblance to Spring, with the blips of baby blues, clementine oranges, and cream violets transforming the Galleria into an acrylic painting. Jeonghan’s mother took the opportunity to offer some spritzes from her most recent line, which had both you and Joshua smelling like a tulip garden. While exploring the room with the blonde boy, you stopped to examine a mannequin dressed in a relaxed, high-waisted pant and a lace camisole that seemed breezy and flowing. This collection was definitely tamer compared to the usual extravagance you had always seen through the store windows and in magazines.

“Would you wear it?” Joshua asked, chewing on a strawberry that he might as well have plucked from thin air.

Tilting your head and squinting, you took a moment to contemplate. “If it was my size I might, if I could find a price hanging off somewhere. But I don’t want to even touch it. Mannequins are weird.”

“No prices are usually displayed at the Gallerias,” Joshua informed you, “though, I will agree. It’s probably a Toy Story thing where they all start moving at night when no one’s here. Spooky, huh?”

You sighed at him, “thanks for the nightmare material.”

Suddenly, there was a tap to your bare shoulder, and you nearly yelped like a cat with a stepped-on tail as Joshua laughed between bites from his juicy strawberry. Turning around, you were met with Jeonghan, who had this flat-lined, unenthusiastic smile hardly touching the corners of his mouth. He looked rather agitated in fact, and you felt cold inside.

“Hey!” Joshua exclaimed, punching his friend’s arm. “Finally escape your dad’s novella-length speech on the pink slip?”

The crowd once gathered around the mannequin had started to disperse, with the visitors now exploring the rest of the outfits.

Jeonghan hardly payed any mind to his friend, throwing out an impatient, “yeah, it was whatever,” before he began questioning you. He started with a rather inhospitable, “why are you here?”

“I invited her,” Joshua announced, “since I ran into her at that salon place. I thought it would be nice and everything. The Gallerias can get pretty stiff if you come alone. Plus, there’s chocolate fountains.”

He appeared nettled, like he’d woken up and spilled coffee on his favourite shirt. You couldn’t place the exact emotion, nor could you identify the reason behind Jeonghan acting as though there were one-hundred choice words waiting to zap off the tip of his tongue. For an instant, you wondered if it would be worthwhile to question him, though there was a shout of the boy’s name and you spotted his parents beckoning him over from across the exhibition. Jeonghan merely rolled his eyes, disappearing just as quickly as he’d arrived to accompany them.

You folded your arms concerningly. “Do you know if something’s wrong? I haven’t seen him like that before.”

Joshua dropped the rest of the strawberry into his mouth. “He’s probably stressing over something. I wouldn’t worry too much. He’s not really one to blow up or get all in your face. I’ll talk to him later.”

Seeing as there were others who wanted to examine the camisole mannequin, you and Joshua seated yourselves at a tiny table right beside the chocolate fountain and catering foods. Though, you were unable to quell the curiosity at what Jeonghan was needed for, prompting your eyes to wander as unnaturally as possible in his direction. He’d just pulled a young woman into a hug, and she was positively gorgeous, dressed in a silk-fabric dress, form fitting and ruby red, with an elegant slit parting up to her right thigh. Her ponytail was slicked shiny as though her hair had been styled professionally, and she flaunted a dreamy smile that reminded you of a vintage female heroine.

And then, like a slap to the face, you realized she must be the woman whom Jeonghan’s parents seemed to be obsessed over.

Baejin, his ex-girlfriend.

She mentioned something into his ear, and they became giggly, the two pulling in again for another short hug. Jeonghan’s father gestured back to the pink slip mannequin, and the four walked over to discuss it for the umpteenth time. You wondered if she was going to be modeling some of the clothing. The assumption felt correct as Baejin touched the dress’ delicate fabric and the beaded, glimmering string tied around the tiny waist. Quickly, Jeonghan fetched the girl a champagne glass, the two drinking together while the father appeared to be entering another in-depth explanation. And, perhaps dignifiedly so, you were feeling mislead and upset. You speculated if this could be the reason for him to keep the Opal Galleria a secret – Jeonghan didn’t want you to catch even a glimpse of him reuniting with Baejin.

They hardly portrayed two ex’s who were now settled on different chapters to their lives. The longer you stared, the angrier, yet, more confused you felt. As you thought before, the odd relationship between you and Jeonghan was not set in stone, and it certainly didn’t ignite with the intention of actual love taking a blossom to your doorstep. It could be that you were jumping to conclusions, misreading things, or disillusioned by your tendency to wishfully think. Nonetheless, the sight still hurt.

Joshua bumped your elbow.

“Are you hungry at all? The scent from the catering tables is getting to me. I can grab a plate for you, if you want.”

With a sigh and a fragile smile, you shook your head. “No, I’ll come with you. Besides, you don’t know what I like anyways.”

“Fair enough.” Joshua agreed.

He stuck out his hand for you to take while rising from the chair.

Grabbing a small plate, you started at the end of the catering table and began making your way down, using the plastic tongs to serve yourself some spring rolls. Joshua filed after you, instead taking a bowl and scooping up some of the fresh zucchini pasta. Admittedly, you had lost your appetite after watching Jeonghan act so cordially with Baejin, though you were determined to not let the plight sour the otherwise enjoyable night you were having with Joshua. Once you reached the chocolate fountain, you swore a sparkle jumped into his eye.

“Why are you so obsessed with the fountain?” You had tried not to laugh as you asked the question.

The blonde boy looked aghast. “Because, it’s beautiful!” He picked up a strawberry arranged neatly around the base, dipping the edge briefly beneath the chocolate. “I mean, how can they make it so delicious and velvety? When I came to my first Galleria, I spent like, half my night just standing by the fountain, eating the fruit.”

You couldn’t help but think Joshua was adorable, and you grinned at him, “well, maybe I don’t have as much of a sweet tooth.”

“Just shush up and try this.”

He held out the strawberry, inviting you for a taste. At first, you paused, wondering if there was some flirtatious intention behind the gesture or if Joshua was just being his overtly kind self. And then, you held onto his wrist and took a bite from the strawberry, the warmth of the melted chocolate satin-smooth against your tongue.

Wiping the edge of your mouth, you nodded. “It is pretty tasty, actually. Let me try dipping it. You make it look weirdly fun.”

After setting down the catering plate, you took Joshua’s strawberry while he picked up a new one. Together, you pushed your fruits beneath the streaming chocolate, twisting it at the green leaf to fully coat the sides. So it wouldn’t drip, you immediately took a huge bite with a hand placed just below your mouth, humming contentedly.

“Okay,” you mumbled, still chewing, “I can see why you like this so much. I think I could get addicted to chocolate strawberry dipping.”

“Me too,” Joshua chuckled, “oh! Look, there’s whipped cream here and I didn’t even see it!” He set down his plate beside yours and grabbed the bottle like an eager little child. Popping off the cap, Joshua shook the can and pressed his fingertip against the nozzle, spraying a white-frosted peak onto the top of another strawberry. You copied him, though you had accidently sprayed too much. Once you licked the cream off your finger, you poked the entire fruit into your mouth like a funfetti-sized cupcake. For some reason, Joshua started giggling at you.

“What?” You glared at him playfully. “What’s wrong?”

Rosy tinges flushed to the arch of Joshua’s cheeks. “Uhm… Well, l-let me just—” he stuttered, cupping his hand gently to your face, his thumb brushing at a spot right below your bottom lip. “You had some whipped cream on your… chin slash lip. Sorry about that.”

“O-Oh, it’s okay.” You were stumbling yourself, tongue darting out instinctively to ensure there wasn’t anything still there.

At random, you felt this prickle tiptoe up the back of your neck, a sensation that was hardly perceptible yet singeing enough for you to notice it. Gulping, you peered toward that faceless mannequin draped in its pink slip dress, toward Jeonghan, Baejin, and his parents who were enthralled in a conversation with her. Jeonghan was glaring so blatantly at Joshua that you’d forgotten how to speak, and you couldn’t even pronounce a single word of warning as the boy started storming his way across the ballroom.

His grip was on your elbow like a viper’s teeth.

“Geez, where’d you come from?” Joshua said, though he was able to note the tension this time, and Jeonghan’s surly behaviour.

“I need to talk to you,” Jeonghan murmured by your ear, ignoring Joshua yet again, “in the hall just outside the exhibition.”

You didn’t want to agree. Strangely enough, you felt this urge balloon inside you, an urge to cause a gigantic scene with screaming and thick tears and unnecessary curses, because as much as you wanted to dismiss your anger, there were jealous, wronged feelings inside, on fire and itching to escape from your gut. Miraculously, you held your composure, and announced to Joshua that you’d talk to him later.

Jeonghan then tore you into the empty hallway.

It was like a lightning bolt, how quickly he exploded.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jeonghan ranted, pacing back and forth as the distant echo of music bled through the wall. “Seriously, I don’t text you back for like, three days, and you’re already going on a date with my best friend—” he softened his voice in a purposefully mocking way, “letting him get all delicate with you, feeding you all lovey-dovey style and wiping that cream off your lip. Did you think I wouldn’t see it?”

“Excuse me?” Your brow instantly creased like a folded map, and you felt an intense ache hit the front of your skull. “Um, you’re one to talk! How come you didn’t tell me about the Galleria? Because you didn’t want me to see you with your arm around your ex’s waist? Because you don’t think I’m good enough to show off to your parents?”

Jeonghan gawked at you. “Baejin? For real? You think I’ve been secretly dating her behind your back or something?”

“How am I supposed to know?” You barked, tucking your arms defensively across the chest. And, while it might have been too early into the argument to pit such a statement, you had already started bubbling, and you knew there was nothing to snuff your fire. “Besides, you hardly ever get back to me apart from when you want to fuck!”

At that, the boy was momentarily stumped. What sounded like a rebuttal fizzled at the back of his throat, though it faded away. The silence worried you, because it echoed a confirmation that Jeonghan might’ve actually never seen as you as anything more than an outlet to alleviate his carnality. That, once the Love Café ordeal was finally over with, he could forget you had ever existed like erasing a mistake of smudged lead. The thought made you glassy-eyed and thus, terribly vulnerable. However, you also craved the truth to your relationship.

“Just admit it,” you beseeched him, “admit that you want me only for sex and nothing else. Is that why you didn’t bring up the Galleria? Because you think it’s easier to shove me in the dark when it’s convenient for you? Is that why you were acting so mad?”

He skimmed a hand exasperatedly through his hair. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not dating Baejin behind your back, I have never once thought you weren’t good enough to show off to my parents, and I didn’t purposefully hide the Galleria from you.”

“Right,” you scoffed, “but you’re fine with labelling me as a friend and pretending like we don’t hook up every week.”

“It’s…” he clenched his teeth and growled in frustration, “it’s complicated, alright? Can’t you just accept that?”

“Complicated?” A shudder coursed down your spine at having to repeat the boy, and the tears sprung from your eyes with such a sharp sting that it became impossible to hold them back. You felt each drop, cold and runny, drip along your face. “That’s the word you’re going to use? You’re going to look straight at me, after the entire span of our relationship since the Love Café, and tell me we’re summed up best as complicated?” Again, the word struck you like a stiff punch. If he was going to regard your connection so trivially, then you didn’t care whether or not he knew the verity of your heart. Like it would affect him anyways.

“I would’ve said we were in love,” you shrugged, watching his expression drop in a mere instant, “but—sure, let’s call it complicated.”

And, with the tears shining like salt stars on your face, you stalked out the building into the softening winter weather.

You didn’t know it could be so difficult to ignore someone, especially when you were supposed to hate them. The effect Jeonghan had on you was almost phantom-like; a constant lingering, even if the boy himself wasn’t palpable and poised right before your eyes.

It had been three days since the outburst at the Galleria. That night, you cried, and wept, and broke out the amber bottle stored beneath your sink which was only sipped from in occasions of complete misery – very well suited to the situation at hand. You had questioned calling the Love Café’s customer service desk to issue a termination of your card, and, at one point, you were standing drunkenly by the toilet contemplating your decision to rip up the red paper and flush it. Though, nothing ever came of either idea. Instead, you faceplanted onto your bed and allowed the intoxicated dizziness to fade black. The next morning, you were faced with multiple texts from Jeonghan, missed phone calls, voice notes. But you didn’t listen or respond to anything.

Complicated. That was the word you kept hearing.

Absolutely not, you had thought that morning, you weren’t ready to speak with him, even if the temptation seemed like it could be promising. The air was still too bitter. And you couldn’t handle another argument.

On the second day after the outburst, you were seated at the receptionist desk in the salon, flicking through a magazine while you became increasingly mindless to the humming of the blow dryer and the potent fragrance of the hair products. When you glanced out the window, you nearly combusted, as both Joshua and Jeonghan were about to enter the salon together, hurrying in from the melted snow and winter’s final downpour. You hid in the breakroom until they left, forcing your co-worker to take your position at the desk. Joshua was apparently getting his hair trimmed while Jeonghan had asked about you at the reception.

“He’s gorgeous!” Your co-worker had immediately gushed to you in the breakroom. “Why are you avoiding someone like that?”

“It’s complicated.” You’d phrased it simply.

Dang it. You hated the fact you’d used that stupid word.

But, on the third day, most of your bitterness was gone.

After breakfast, you were back at the vanity mirror to prepare for work, and while you buffed some makeup to sit seamlessly on the skin with your puffy foundation brush, there was a knock at your door. This time, you didn’t bother peeping through the fisheye lens, because you knew exactly who it was – damn his persistence. Jeonghan’s brown hair had been slightly mused in the wind, and there was a glow as soft as a peach to each his cheeks. But that easygoing, relaxed smile was by far the most heart fluttering. He extended a coffee cup to you. When you reached out, Jeonghan suddenly pulled the coffee away with a tsking sound.

“You can have it only if—” he held up his finger, “you agree to let me in so I can explain myself. Yes, I’m bribing you. And yes, I’m an asshole from time to time. But five minutes at least. That’s all I need.”

For a moment, you wavered, only to mutter a resounding, “fine.”

Despite Jeonghan’s company, you still had work to get ready for, so the boy followed you into the bedroom. He took a seat on the edge of your mattress while you settled back into the vanity chair. Picking through your jar of makeup brushes, you plucked a round, oval-tipped one to apply your eyeshadow. Jeonghan was silent at first, watching you through the mirror as you hurried about the look. It wasn’t perfect, in fact it was a bit sloppy and rushed and there was already some fallout sitting like a glittered dust on your cheeks, though Jeonghan was staring at you with such fondness, you wondered if the mirror was reflecting the same image. Of course, the Love Card was sitting on your desk too.

“Well,” you spun around in the chair, pressing your lips together, “I’m waiting for you to explain, y’know. Like you said you would. Technically, you’ve lost a couple minutes, and I should really try to be at the salon early, but I’m still going to give you full time since—"

“I love you.”

“… What?”

“I love you,” Jeonghan repeated himself casually, a slow smile spilling from each corner of his mouth, “I’m in love with you, as deep as I could be, I think. Anyways, you want me to keep saying it? I love you.”

It felt like someone had taken a picture with the blinding glare of its flash, a picture you couldn’t be more unprepared for, the dots still dancing and fumbling across your vision. The moment was disorienting, but you experienced a very fulgurant warmth take shape inside you. It was comforting yet daunting, a sugar rush and a hangover, something so alive you knew you wanted it more than anything else in the world.

Yet, “you… are in love with me?” was all that you could express.

Jeonghan fiddled with the coffee cup in his hands. “You’re a funny girl, you know that? But I can say it a fifth time if you want.”

“N-No, I—I just, I wasn’t expecting—”

“Yeah, I can see that, “ he’d laughed, though it quickly fell into a sigh and suddenly Jeonghan’s temperament had shifted. “Look, I know that night wasn’t pretty. I know I ghosted you. I know I didn’t tell you about the stupid Galleria,” the boy glanced up, catching your eye, “but… I didn’t say anything because I was confused. I knew your Love Card only had one signature left, and just like that… you could be in my bed for the last time. If we’re really gonna get sentimental about it,”

Jeonghan chuckled, scratching his chin a bit shyly, “it could be my last time holding you, and kissing you… I just, I didn’t want it to be like that. But I didn’t know how to confront you about it, so I hid. And I stressed myself out, and I got so stupidly jealous and angry when I saw you with Joshua. That was my bad. I should’ve been upfront.”

Tucking your hands together anxiously in your lap, you nodded, beginning to understand the missing pieces.

“Thank you for saying that.” You murmured, tapping your feet in a nervous rhythm against the floor. “I… I was being unreasonable and jealous too,” you subsequently admitted, “I was assuming things about you and Baejin when I shouldn’t have. I don’t know what I was expecting anyways, that you act like she doesn’t exist? It was dumb, and I was adding pressure. I’m sorry too.” Wanting to lighten the tone, you smiled at him, “I guess we both have our flaws, huh?”

He returned the tender glance and held out the coffee cup.

“I guess we do.”

You grabbed it politely.

Turning around in the chair, you grabbed the bright red Love Card off the vanity, initialed until its last circle, “what should we do with this? I mean, we kind of messed up their rules, fooling around more than twelve times. And, well, I’m not gonna renew it.”

“Oh, let me see.” Jeonghan said.

As soon as you passed the card to him, he ripped it clean in half, crumpled each piece, balled them together in his hands and tossed the shreds into the trash can sat in the corner.

“Well, that was fucking easy,” he smiled, getting up from the mattress, “aren’t you late for work? Do you need a drive?”

You looked at your alarm clock.

“If you can get me there in the next ten minutes, that’d be great.”

Jeonghan headed to the front door while you hurriedly grabbed your coat from the closet and snatched your bag off the floor, resting the strap over your shoulder. With the coffee still in hand, you headed into the living area, looking around in one final swoop to make sure you had everything packed for the day. A sheet of sunlight spilt into the room from outside the window, pale, like the morning sky, yet filling every crevice of the cheap apartment with a dull shine. And for a very fleeting moment, you thought this place wasn’t so abhorrent. It had been your home, your stepping stone, a thumbprint which identified a period of hardship and growth. But, despite this bittersweet taste on your tongue, you couldn’t envision yourself staying.

“Come on,” Jeonghan pinched your hip, “at this rate I’ll get a speeding ticket trying to get you to work on time.”

Turning around, you stuck a kiss to the boy’s cheek, just catching the cool beginning of a smirk on that dazzling face of his as you interlaced your fingers and pulled him into the corridor.

No, you could not stay here.

Not when your future was with Jeonghan.

✧✎ a/n: yeah, so this was clearly A LOT longer than the original love café teehee. i remembered the plot vaguely therefore i refused to reread my first version weufhewif PLS IT MAKES ME CONVULSE SO BAD !! i just had to rewrite the plot and do it some actual justice! i hope this version is a lot better and that you rly enjoyed it! i wish yjh would give me money but i guess we can’t all live in a fantasy world!! thx for reading!!

#caratwritersclub #jeonghan scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt fanfic #jeonghan fanfic #seventeen smut #jeonghan smut #seventeen jeonghan #svt smut #yoon jeonghan #svt x reader #jeonghan x reader

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cinnamonest · 3 years

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Xingqiu - Yandere Profile

I actually just got my sweet bookworm boi to his next to last ascension, my hydro baby, my angel, I love him even if bc of him I have to marathon fight the oceanid

I’ve had a lot of reqs for him & Chongyun dating back to January again lol but it only felt right to wait until I finished both so I could release them at the same time, so, Chongyun’s will be up immediately after this!

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TWs: fem reader, yandere, confinement, manipulative behaviors, mentions of homicide, gaslighting, Xingqiu being a spoiled arrogant brat

TWs (below cut): noncon/dubcon, manipulating and guilting reader into sex, overstimulation, fluids/cumplay, humiliation

Since there's no canonical age but he has a bit of the rounded young face I'm tagging with the sh*ta tw as well!

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Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 7 Brutality: 3 Physical capability: 4 Mental/emotional instability: 6 Restrictiveness: 7 Sexual sadism: 5 Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Tries to buy his way to you, initially. He's grown up seeing the power that money holds over people, and, well, his father can always just wave a bit around and get whatever he wants from most people, so why should you be any different? He goes for stereotypical "girl" things like flowers and jewelry at first, unless you have some prominent and well-known interest, in which case he'll invest in something related to that.

Honestly, for all his chivalry and all that, his maturity is something of a faux one, a sort of projected self-image of the gentlemanly figure he strives to be... but when he lets that slip, he can be something of a childish spoiled brat. The thing is... he's completely unaware and refuses to acknowledge that he can be so immature. He likes getting what he wants, when he wants it, exactly how he wants it, and being denied the things he wants isn't particularly common in his life. So rejection comes not so much as a disappointment so much as a shock. No matter, you're just... a brat, yourself. You think you're too good for everyone, he reasons, so you play hard to get.

Really, after recovering from the initial shock, he realizes he likes things this way. He likes challenges. It would be no fun if you came to him easily. You may be a brat, but in the end, the one thing he refuses to ever do is lose. Chivalrous gentlemen are fine with having to earn their things, so really, he's thankful that you reminded him of his morals, of his desire to truly earn the things he wants. It will make it that much more meaningful.

So he goes heavy on the idea of "courting", following whatever old and prudish traditions may exist in Liyue. If you're from somewhere else, he figures, that could be why -- clearly he hasn't followed through on whatever is normal for your culture. Silly him. He makes an effort to research whatever those traditions may be, and goes to the absolute maximum on performing them. Lavishes you in gifts of all kinds, constantly giving you compliments. He even goes to the effort of, if all else fails, reading romance novels targeted at women to get a better grasp of what exactly you're supposed to like, and emulates those behaviors.

Overall, though, in later stages Xingqiu slightly more mild for a yan, allowing you to have interactions with others (even if he’s irritated), such as his family, family servants, and his friends, and will even take you outside now and then. However, he will cut off your ties to those friends you had before that weren't mutual friends. He's also one of the least likely yanderes to ever kill someone, and will avoid hurting people if possible -- if anything, he prefers more discreet methods like ruining their life socially or financially.

He's also a lot more moody behind closed doors than he is to most people. His attempts to be oh-so-mature eventually kinda crumble, and the more comfortable he becomes around you, the more he lets his immaturity show.

He could assign family servants to looking for you, but really, he prefers to do it himself, this is about love after all, he doesn't want to assign them to a task they would never perform as diligently as he could. But rather than stalking, he chooses to just kind of... stay with you. He's somehow always where you are, "coincidentally" running into you everywhere and then somehow nothing having anything to do, because he clings to you for hours until you finally have to go home, and even then, he'll just follow you to continue the visit there if he can. No point in watching from a distance when he can be right there with you. And again, he's actually surprisingly unaware that his clinginess is so obvious, he's oblivious to how obvious his infatuation is. Which is a bit odd, considering that he's usually fairly perceptive, but he's so confident in the fact that he is normally perceptive that he allows himself to slip into abnormal behaviors without really realizing it, because he's not constantly on guard in the way some less socially adept yanderes are.

On a genuinely sweet level, there's one little thing he keeps hidden from you. He's actually written a lot of love poetry for you, verses about you and all of the things he loves about you so much... Despite usually being fairly confident in his work, he can't bring himself to show it to you. He's too flustered. And considering your negative reactions to his affection (read: not wanting to be kept like a captive animal), he is actually a bit sensitive to that perceived rejection, which further discourages him. He keeps them all stashed away, stuffed into some fairly hidden drawer. Should you ever come across them and bring them up, it's one of a very few things that will genuinely make him super embarrassed, and he'll just insist they weren't about you, even though the details make it obvious they were, and storm off, never bringing it up again.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

It's not kidnapping. It's... relocating. He's far too chivalrous to resort to something so brutish as kidnapping! He'll make sure you want to come with him. He can easily arrange for there to be rumors and reports of... occurrences near your home. Criminal activity, maybe false rumors of mysterious disappearances. Hell, he'll get Chongyun to testify that your house has demonic spirits in it. Something to make you want to move out. Maybe some things start happening to you -- you get the feeling you're being watched, you get threatening messages mailed to your home, you have strangers (read: randos who will do anything for some mora he gives them) telling you you're not welcome in the area and to get out. It's all incredibly confusing and scary and you have no idea what brought it all on!

Luckily for you, you have a rich, generous friend who makes it more than clear you're welcome to come stay with him for a while at any time. Eventually, no matter what it takes, he can push you to a point where you'll take him up on that offer. Something feels... oddly ominous about the way the gates to his family estate close behind you once you walk in. Like they're sealing your fate.

And once step one is done, step two of his plan goes into place - make sure you never want to leave. He can make that happen, there's plenty of space here for you to roam, plenty for you to do, and even when he's not there to entertain you, there's plenty of servants to keep an eye on you and make sure that whenever you try to leave, they'll smile and tell you you can't go just yet miss, there's this or that going on tonight! The young master said he had something important for you when he gets back later! You can't go out now, there was just an attack by some deranged person in the town still on the loose! Just... go back inside for now.

Of course, it's wishful thinking, but he likes to maintain the delusion that he can just keep this going indefinitely, that you won't finally one day put your foot down and tell him you've been stuck here nearly a month and you're ready to at least go visit home. He might even entertain it a bit - sure, you can go visit your old house with him and collect some of your old things to bring back with you, but he makes sure to make it look at though whatever problem he made up is still occurring. Nonetheless, if you're insistent, or at whatever point you finally crack and catch on, demand to know what's going on - well, it's not pretty. He gets into something of a tantrum if you don't comply, but ultimately, in his own little huffy, ticked off way, says you can't leave, and that's that, no more questions allowed, and no more of this ridiculous demand to leave. Of course, darling is taken aback at first, even thinking he's joking, but it soon becomes very clear he's completely serious, and intends to enforce that command.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

When he's with you, he's tends to be pretty clingy, both physically and in conversation, never ceasing talking about this or that, and he's actually a sleep-clinger as well, keeping an iron grip around your waist when you sleep. So, whenever he's at his home, he insists on you being in his presence, usually physically touching, so you won't really get an opportunity while he's just in another room or something because you can't get any privacy to begin with. When you're in public, he's incredibly watchful over your every move and incredibly clingy then as well, so don't expect such a chance to arrive either.

Thus, your best bet is to try when you're under the watch of guards, whenever he's gone for whatever reason. They've been instructed to watch you from a distance, you see, he doesn't want them interacting with you directly, so you'll have a few chances here or there where they get distracted or their backs are turned. There will likely eventually also be a time where there's a scheduling error, you end up unsupervised! However, physically getting out of the estate is still difficult. There's still posted guards everywhere. So all in all, it's fairly difficult, especially in broad daylight, the only time he's not with you.

When you're inevitably dragged back kicking and screaming by some poor guards that aren't getting paid enough to deal with this, after getting back and hearing the report he deals with it in that unnerving saccharine way of feigning ignorance to try and get a reaction. Now, he knows you weren't trying to get out... right? Surely you got distracted by a bird or something, right? That's the only reason why you'd ever try to leave, right? It's obvious he knows better, and is just fucking with your head, but it's best not to lie. What he wants is an admittance of guilt and an apology, preferably down on the floor begging for forgiveness.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Moderate, leaning towards difficult. He's perceptive, and intelligent, but that intelligence is largely a sort of book-smarts type of intelligence. He's generally crafty and a prankster himself, so pulling things over on him is difficult because he's familiar with the mindset and methods of doing so, but he can be tricked if you put on a believable enough act. Basically, a darling who is a good actor stands a much better chance.

However, he's ultimately a learner. You can get away with some tricks or plots once, but he won't fall for the same thing twice. Any sort of escape or deceit you've tried once, he'll make active efforts to guard against and prevent in the future.

Manipulation, though, you can forget it. He's way too proud and stubborn to be emotionally manipulated, in the end getting his way and what he wants takes priority over making you happy, so don't expect to be able to manipulate him based on the notion of something making you happier.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

Fairly lenient, actually. You get a lot of access so long as your behavior is good, so really it's wise to be on your best behavior in the long term of things. He can get you anything you want, especially reading material. And you actually get to go outside, yay! He's like my earlier Childe profile on that -- he likes to go on dates, and he's actually really enthusiastic about it! He's big on date planning, wanting to see everything there is to see and do everything there is to do together. The rules are that you just need to be physically attached to him in some way -- you can hold his hand, grab at his sleeves, or he can do so to you (although he'd prefer you cling to him. He likes the image it projects to people around you). He actually gets really hyped about said dates whenever you plan them, he'll talk to you for hours plotting out all the things to do on this particular outing. At one point, his smile drops and his voice goes low and he tells you that, just a reminder, you know the rules for dates, right? ...Good.

Similarly, if you ask, he'll let you accompany him on more trivial outings as well, say if you'd like to go grocery shopping, and he certainly won't turn down a trip to the bookstore. The same rules apply, although he's a bit less excited for something so mundane.

One thing he won't do, surprisingly, is let you have anything to do with Guhua arts or skills. He won't teach you anything he knows nor let you learn, and if you were a follower of it before, he'll cut off your access to any material. His reasoning is that he just doesn't really think anything to do with combat suits you. You're better off learning more passive skills and hobbies.

In reality? He can't stand the thought of you ever being able to present a challenge to him in that sense. It would kill his ego if you ever managed to do something related to the Guhua arts better than he can, or even half as good as he can.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Well, to occupy your time, he has things that need cleaning you know... Honestly, he's messy, and he's already used to having maids, so he kinda treats you like one to some degree. Of course, he's active in his little heroism adventures, but when it comes to his own living spaces and such things he can be a bit lazy. So, he'll give you tasks to do sometimes, he likes the power rush too that he gets from ordering you around a bit. It soothes the ego.

Outside of your strolls together, you can't be going outside (and you don't get to choose when you do go on your little walks and dates, he does, although he may grant you the wishes of your begging). Also, don't actually try to talk to the guards. They're there to watch you, nothing more, so pay them no mind, and by no means should you ever have a reason to make conversation with them. If there's an emergency or something you need, you may inform them and get help, nothing more. And really, they're more afraid of this rule than you are -- you'll have difficulty finding one even willing to talk to you, they all take the warnings they've been given very seriously.

He eventually gets nitpicky and makes all sorts of little behavioral rules, it's incredibly obnoxious. But honestly, suffering his bratty tantrums is enough of a punishment, even if he didn't usually follow it up with actual punishment, which, for him, tends to be something perverted in some way.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

He actually gets jealous rather easily, often over people who are no real threat. You can never be too nice to anyone -- even after he introduces you to his father and older brother, he expects you to be happy to meet them... but not that much. If you show too much excitement or happiness over any other being, he gets pouty, especially other men, but also your friends, male or female, family, even animals. His first reaction isn't to kill, rather, just an increase in isolation. Drag you back home and make sure you get a lot of time to yourselves, seeks reassurance that you really love him. If it's his own family, he might get grouchy towards them, snap at them a bit, bitterly drag you back off to your own room, where he'll then proceed to get equally grouchy towards you until you have given him enough reassurance he deems sufficient. In his own time, when you're not around, he makes sure to make it perfectly clear to those around him that they aren't to get in between you two.

He's one of the better yans to have in this regard, though, because he's unlikely to resort to killing anyone. He's got too much of his self-image invested in the idea of morals and justice to be able to do so, he can't delude himself into believing it's right or acceptable. It's not impossible to push him to that point, but it wouldn't just be someone you show any positive reception towards -- if Xingqiu did end up killing a rival, it would have to be one for whom you have very blatantly made clear you have actual romantic and sexual affection, someone who poses a genuine, real threat.

Xingqiu is a sort of open book when it comes to jealousy -- it's obvious to everyone around you that he's mad at someone else for even looking at you, and he doesn't try to hide it. It makes him that much angrier if someone doesn't obey his silent demand to stop interacting with you, doesn't seem fazed by his glares and coldness. He'll meet with them privately and make things clear verbally, since he tells himself maybe they're just dense and too stupid to understand. But they only get one more chance. Cross him twice, and they'll likely find themselves in financial ruin after pulling some strings through the connections of his father and brother.

What would make him significantly more likely to kill someone is someone who poses a legal threat, someone who catches on to what's going on and threatens to get him in serious trouble for it. Even if he tried bribing them, well, they'd likely just pretend to accept, and someone so bold likely wouldn't bow to threats.

This is where he can slip into the mindset of a delusional yandere. He once again projects the image in his head, that knight he wants to be for you, and hey, sometimes to save the princess, the heroes in his martial arts epics have to get their hands dirty, have to unfortunately get blood on their hands for the sake of the greater good. And hey, then it's usually called character development. Most of his fictional heroes tend to have killed at least one person in a sort of epic battle to defend something precious to them. This is no different. Of course, ambushing an unarmed person and running them through hardly counts as an epic battle, but he doesn't really take that part into account.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

Again, a bit of a spoiled brat at times. He's pouty, gives you the cold shoulder, yet dramatically inserts himself in front of you and whatever you're occupied with so you can't do anything. Basically he's forcing you to acknowledge his pouting and ask him what's wrong so that he can pull the "oh, nothing" until you ask again, and maybe he'll eventually bitterly, passive-aggressively make it clear what you did wrong. The bright side is he's easily soothed - an apology and some groveling will fix his attitude pretty quickly, although he'll have an infuriating air of superiority about it all, telling you he's glad you were able to understand what you did and have, hopefully, learned to correct the behavior in the future.

Worse offenses, things that make him genuinely and truly infuriated, are significantly worse, but rather uncharacteristically for him, he's quiet. And that's what's do frightening about it - for once you almost wish he would blabber or complain or whine like you're so used to, but his fury is dead silent. He moves without speaking, harsh motions that will either shove or tug you to wherever he's trying to maneuver you, and he shows how he feels through actions rather than words - he slams doors and objects, stomps, everything about his body language is frightening enough to make you stiffen and jolt.

Thankfully, Xingqiu is a milder yandere when it comes to severity of things he'll do to you in moments of anger -- he's one that can control himself well enough not to severely hurt you, break bones or anything like that. When it comes to his flashes of anger, at worst he might slap you in his tantrums, but he has at least enough self-control and empathy for you to manage better than a lot of yanderes.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Below. It's mostly that he thinks rather highly of himself - he's an important person you know. He saves people, he goes around doing his little vigilante thing, and he's not afraid to flaunt sometimes.

If you happen to also be from a rich family, you can earn a little bit more respect from him, you're cultured and sophisticated. If you're intelligent, you can get some validity in his mind as well. He'll still consider himself more intelligent and higher status, something you'd be mindful to remember, but he'll begrudgingly acknowledge it.

A commoner darling, though? God forbid an airheaded one? Forget about getting any respect - you're more like... A cute little puppy to him. Dumb and loud and clumsy, but nonetheless very cute and loveable. You were just... Made to be something of an accessory to him. And he loves and values you, you mean the world to him really, but that's all the more reason why you should accept your place as such.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

It drives him up the wall. You know, his father could arrange his marriage to a ton of young rich daughters in Liyue who would be more than happy about it, but he can't get the attention of ONE girl he likes? It's infuriating. And it makes him all the more insistent to have specifically you.

For Xingqiu, it's a mix of both desperation and a pride thing as well. One one hand he desperately does truly want his feelings to be returned, he wants you to love him, he wants the fantasy he has in his head of you two having a long, happy future together. On the other hand, rejection is also a mark on his pride, and that irritates him beyond comprehension.

So don't expect him to ever give up, really. Unlike a lot of loving yans though, he doesn't blame himself, he directs the rejection hurt outward - maybe you're just so spoiled yourself that nothing is good enough for you. Maybe you're just playing hard to get. Maybe you just think constantly turning him down is funny, it's amusing to you, and, well, he doesn't take lightly to you trying to play games with him. So while he'll continue to try and earn your love, don't be surprised if it results in an irritated mood swing every now and then.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

A lack of desire/hesitancy to resort to violence or more morally wayward methods. He stakes a lot of his pride and self-image on being a chivalrous, upright, just person, someone who should exemplify right and punish wrong, and unfortunately for him he's not a delusional and can't convince himself that he's doing the right thing. He wants to be a gentleman, your knight in shining armor, the storybook hero he projects in his head that always comes to save his princess, who in turn is receptive and showers him in praise and affection and gratitude. You're the problem, you see, you're not following through on your role in all this.

As such, he really, really hates having to dirty his hands in any way, or do anything that he knows is wrong and will consequently drag him into guilt. Not that he can't be driven to it, because he certainly can, but if it reaches that point, that means you didn't cooperate with him to begin with, which would have made things so much easier, so he'll definitely rid himself of that guilt by redirecting the blame to you, or deluding himself into some bizarre justification.

Another thing... his family's compliance. Honestly? His dad is far too busy and far too done with Xingqiu's shit to expect any help from him. His son tends to be picky, whiny, and demanding -- now that you're here, he's finally satiated, finally actually paying attention to the important matters his father wants him to be involved with, finally not causing nearly as much trouble now that you're around. You can bet he's more than happy to put in some extra funds and personnel to restrain some random commoner, so long as his son is satisfied. His brother doesn't really agree with it all, but his brother wants this and his father is supporting it, so... his hands are tied. He turns a blind eye. And the staff, the servants? They're getting paid far too much to care, and besides, the family is incredibly influential -- should they get fired, it could smear their reputation. It’s kinda really discouraging, being surrounded by so many people, but none of them willing to help you.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Bounces back and forth. On one hand, he wants to maintain, again, a gentlemanly and sophisticated image, and in his mind, such people don't normally think about such things, don't behave in lewd or degenerate ways. On the other hand, he's a nasty little perv that secretly sinks to the absolute depths of depravity. There's not much he can't get off to. If his poor brother hadn't been so busy being concerned about the martial arts books under his bed, and had dug further, he would have found that those books are actually just a cover-up for a different set of nasty, gross materials he's spent years accumulating -- some of the most vulgar smut you've ever seen, stuff you question how he ever even got ahold of. Surely the book house wouldn't sell this kind of material... it's honestly a mystery how he manages to get so much.

With his first few interactions, he tends to display the former image, but the more time he spends with anyone, the more that inner little pervert side tends to come out. He's definitely one to get touchy, his light grazing little touches become firmer and more daring, his hands always rest just at a point that's right on the boundary of being inappropriate. Sometimes he'll straight-up grope you and pass it off as teasing. He's also like Kaeya in that he intentionally tries to embarrass you by making your mind go to lewd places, making obvious innuendos and euphemisms, then pretending like he doesn't know why you're looking at him like that... oh, is that what you thought he meant? Wow, you must have such a dirty mind, you little pervert.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Something like rape is barbaric! Of course he would never, eeeeever do something so awful, so unbecoming of someone like him. And he really never will. He's another yan that will simply... Secure your consent by whatever means necessary.

In the end he'll most likely guilt trip and gaslight his way into it. I mean, you're staying with him for free, he took you in, he feeds you and clothes you and you can't show one little bit of gratitude? He treats you like a wife and you can't fulfil your end of that role? Don't be selfish. He loves you so much... He'd do anything for you... don't you want him to be happy too?

He'll try different approaches. If seduction doesn't work off the bat, he'll try gaslighting, if that doesn't work, he'll try guilt tripping, if that doesn't work, he'll make up a bizarre lie - he has to have sex or he'll die, somehow! You get the idea. If you really, really, really push it, he may just resort to a vague threat of sorts - nothing too bad or deadly, but hey, it would sure be a shame if this recent market crash affected your family financially... Not that he knows anyone who has power over the local commerce or anything.

With a more timid, soft darling, you're likely to end up essentially... Dubcon'ed. Half-noncon'ed. He just kinda... Slowly goes for it, and at your protests insists no, it's ok, you'll feel good... And a timid darling too afraid to stop him doesn't exactly fight back or resist, so hey, silence is a green light.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Experimentation

As I've said, he's a nasty little perv deep down, and he can get off to, well, a LOT of things. And he loves to try new things out, no matter how weird it may be. He's one you can get into a lot of things involving toys and objects, or physical forms of things applied to the body (think temperature play, hot wax, nipple clamps -- anything that has to do with objects being used on you). Part of the fun of it all is having something new that he's never tried before! Even if it turns out to not be his favorite thing, he'll still enjoy the trying it out, and those things he DOES find himself liking, well, he'll just have to add them to the little mental list of favorites.

And he, honestly, enjoys the little reactions you often have to the notions of this or that -- the shock and sudden fear on your face when he tells you today you'll do this or that, and how you shake your cute little head so rapidly. It's not that bad, he promises, and he's done a lot of research and reading to be sure he does things correctly, so no worries!

Body writing

It's kinda comical because you can't make out a word. With his canonically horrendous handwriting, but fondness for the act of writing, it makes for what essentially looks to you like abstract art on your body -- but just know it's the lewdest, most degrading shit you can think of that he'll get all over your thighs and stomach, marking you as his. If nothing else, he gets off to it, and based on the little things he whispers in your ear, you know it's the same sort of humiliating things. If he takes his time, he can write better, but he gets caught up in the heat of the moment.

Lingerie

He's a fan of lacey, frilly things. And he will definitely invest in as many as he can buy, ornate and intricate things, stockings for your legs that have pretty lace patterns at the top of the thigh, bras and panties that are somehow both lacey and perfectly see-through. He's also a big fan of things that have holes in them for easy access, so you can wear it the whole time. And, if he's feeling meaner, he'll definitely have you walk around in just that for a while -- not out where anyone else in the estate could see you, of course, but in his room with him.

Master/slave

He's not a sadist per se, and doesn't really put you in pain, but he loves your submission. And no better way to exemplify submission than with service. The little bastard already makes you act like a maid outside of bed, but now he likes it even more -- there's a certain rush of power to laying out a command and seeing you follow it. Not to mention the cute look on your warm face as you follow though with the degrading shit. Oh, and you'd better believe he gets humiliating. It's not necessarily degrading in the sense that he says or makes you say bad things about yourself, but rather, just the commands themselves, getting on your hands and knees and crawling over to him, and demanding you slowly strip down. Make it cute, give him a show, you know? He won't be cruel in the things he says about you, yet your pride is still wrecked by the end of it all.

Voyeurism/masturbation instruction

He loves to watch you get off, honestly. It ties into the slave thing to a degree, making you follow every little command, telling you exactly how to touch yourself and move your hands. He'll sigh and tell you no, you're going to fast, you can't do it that fast yet... and if you get too overexcited, he'll just have to make you stop, since you can't seem to listen, and maybe not get to cum until tomorrow, so you can learn to behave better about it next time.

Fluids/Cumplay

He has something of a fixation with all kinds. He loves seeing the trail of saliva from your mouth when you pull off his dick, the way cum drips out of you and runs down your thighs. He also likes seeing it splattered across your face, your chest, in your hair, something about the sight of it nearly has him hard immediately after and ready to go. But he also likes how it will gross you out, leaving you tied up so that you can't wipe it off, are forced to just stay there with it dripping out of your holes and down your skin in a way that makes you shiver. And, really, he loves your fluids too, sweet salty slick that's just so mesmerizing to watch coat his fingers and face. But his favorite thing, probably has to be running his fingers through your own juices and slick, collecting it on his fingers, holding it up to your mouth and telling you to suck them clean. Somehow, it's even hotter when you're licking your own fluids off of his fingers, although you doing so with his is certainly nice too.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He’d like an heir one day. He's one to want a kid, maybe two, but not a whole lot. Just enough to have a proper family structure, much like the family he was raised in. It's the proper thing to do, he thinks, a natural part of the social order and continuation of a legacy. As a natural extension of his spoiled brat tendencies, he often doesn't think very responsibly in regards to preventing children, so, lucky for him, that ideal will likely come to fruition eventually, if physically possible.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Absolutely uses overstimulation. Whatever sorts of toys exist in Teyvat, he's rich enough that he can easily obtain them - little things he can attach to you and leave buzzing, or thick plugs and internal toys to stuff you full and leave you there to suffer in stimulation and stretching for hours on end. And he doesn't leave you alone, no, he stays close by, leaving you tied up and blindfolded, the occasionally lazy checkup of "oh, how are you holding up over there? I almost totally forgot you were there!" in a mocking tone while he goes about reading his books or practicing or jerking off to the sight.

Also ruined orgasms. Ugh, he's the worst. Gets you right to your peak, likely also after hours of edging, and then just... stops. Right as you reach the high, stops all motion, leaves you whimpering and sobbing, it's literally painful to actually reach it, and then still have that orgasm taken from you. And he'll be sure to remind you that if you were good, you could experience it in full, he could make you feel so good and let you ride out that high... but so long as you insist on being such a stubborn little princess, unfortunately, he can't just give you that. He hates this too, you know, he says. He'd love nothing more than to share pleasure, but you insist on being difficult.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Legs and thighs. He likes the aesthetics of legs, the softness, the way the flesh feels in his hands. The way touching them can make you jolt, the sensitivity, the way they leave little marks so perfectly if he sucks and bites at the skin. It's just really pretty.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere xingqiu #yandere x y/n #tw: noncon #tw: dark content #tw:shota

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wing-ed-thing · 3 years

Text

Lab Assistant (Szayelaporro x Reader, Part II)

Synopsis: Szayelaporro takes on a complete Arrancar.

Word Count: 2,180

Tags/Warnings: Fem!Reader, Fake Science, Science Project to Lovers, Slow Burn (Arrancar are solitary and this one’s death aspect is Madness, let’s be real here), Slow Build @blankensee

Notes: Okay but homeboi is TӦLL. Szayelaporro is 6′1, 6′1 y’all see this? Ooh boy is it getting hot in here? The Thing-Winged series bug has officially kicked in.

You were the only Fracción that Szayelaporro allowed into his laboratory, but even as you sat on the exam table, you couldn’t help but think that perhaps you had done something wrong. You crossed your ankles and folded your hands in your lap. Szayelaporro sat at his desk, like usual, but penned down the types of notes that he would typically leave for you. A large piece of machinery reached out a mechanical arm to encompass the whole of your hollow mask. Szayelaporro had stood to observe you quite some time ago and you were left to wait, back straight and silent. A series of artificial jewels clung to you kanzashi mask, their glow casting a crimson color over the dimly lit laboratory.

He spoke your name. His soft voice cut through the air, reverberating off of the tall walls and high ceilings. Szayelaporro rose from his seat and turned to you. You could hear a faint bubbling coming from somewhere in the dimness.

“Yes, Master Szayelaporro?” Your voice could have easily blended in with the white noise of the laboratory. He stood in front of you, fiddling with the equipment above your head. His honey colored irises lazily migrated to the corners of his eyes in a disapproving glance downward. You stared forward.

“What is it that we did wrong today?” You pursed your lips but didn’t dare to move otherwise. A phantom hourglass hung over your head. Your response best be good and come quickly.

“I did not receive an order to attack Master Nnoitra. I did not believe it to be wise to.” Szayelaporro let a frown slip from his neutral expression. He continued to tinker with his device. You could feel the cool metal on your mask like dental tools on your teeth. Szayelaporro let out a hum.

“Passing the blame onto me, are you?” The claw of the machine buckled under his firm hands and caused a tugging against your outer layer of bone. You recoiled, a hand tightly gripping the table below you. You squeezed your eyes closed, in more discomfort than in any pain. Your head tilted to your far right as you leaned upwards, attempting to decrease the tension on your mask.

“No, Master Szayelaporro. I apologize for the lack of care that went into choosing my words.” The Octava Espada said nothing. You felt him continue to work the machine above you. You shifted again.

“Stop moving, I’ve almost got it.” And when the data machine finally released you, you restrained yourself from shooting up a hand to rub your head. Instead, you sat still, letting Szayelaporro’s cold hands caress your face as he inspected his work. You could sense another look of dissatisfaction.

“Have they been repaired?” He rolled the largest of your gems between the fingers of his other hand, watching it gleam as he poured in the slightest bit of reiatsu.

“For now,” Szayelaporro answered, “We’ll see how they hold up.” He gripped your chin, turning your head to meet his stare. His expression narrowed. “When I tell you to come to my side, you do as I say. When someone like Nnoitra tries to touch you, you defend yourself. These are my additional orders to you.” You nodded, your jewelry glinting a singular time.

As he turned back to his data, you slid down from the examination table. Your heels met each other. Once again, your hands rested folded in front of you.

“Shall I get back to work now?” Szayelaporro took a moment. He ignored your inquisition and continued to type in some sort of data or another into his recording instrument. He paused, and when you thought that he’d answer, he flipped through yet more papers. You stood a few feet behind him awaiting his answer, and when he finally turned you were met with a withering scowl.

“Must I really dismiss you?” He questioned rhetorically, swiftly passing by you with a few papers in hand. You did not move. “Go restock the canyon crystals and do eat something while you’re away.” You nodded to yourself and gave a quiet farewell to your master. He did not answer, per usual, and you let yourself out of the laboratory. Szayelaporro’s glare followed you. “This better work. I am sick of having disobedient Fracciónes.”

***

Hueco Mundo didn’t hold much beauty. All in all, the landscape was mostly vast, empty, and dead. Szayelaporro didn’t seem like he enjoyed fieldwork very much. You supposed that he would prefer experimenting rather than finding his own minor lab materials. You, on the other hand, preferred spending a bit of time away from the Palace and you were grateful that Szayelaporro trusted you to do even the mundane tasks. Truth be told, you excelled in gathering quality items for the lab. You had an eye for the best spots to pick from. You caught live specimens with an almost sixth sense and your speed remained nearly unmatched in the Octava Espada’s Palace. That factoid on it’s own didn’t feel very impressive to you, but you still took pride in it nonetheless.

You trudged across the sand, a field collection kit in your arms. The whole package easily encompassed the whole of your torso. Your feet sank down into the substrate. Surely by now, the grains had begun to gather in your boots. You stopped where you stood, letting the kit droop in your desperate grasp. You looked back at the Palace which still loomed over you. You had hardly made it anywhere. With a sigh, you turned back the direction you were originally headed. Szayelaporro didn’t like when you took too long.

“Can I help you with that?” As soon as you caught sight of the slender, eye patched face, your eyes went wide. You gripped the bulky kit in your arms, lips forming a thin, panicked line. You slowly turned away before immediately speeding off. A shout came from behind you causing you to trip. “I’m not here to hurt you!”

You yelled out for Szayelaporro. A cloud of sand exploded around you as you fell. A dark shadow appeared above you and you launched your equipment up in defense. Your pursuer caught the kit in his arms, his body forced back the slightest bit at the impact.

“Stay back!” You warned, scrambling up and unsheathing your zanpakutō. The fragments in your mask glowed a deep red. Tesla raised up your box in defense, his sword hanging by his hip.

“Master Nnoitra isn’t with me!” You blinked a few times, lowering your weapon slightly, but not by much. Tesla shifted his hands, maneuvering them forward to lay flatly on the sides of the container. He held it away from himself as he lowered his posture, a silent effort to show that he meant no harm. “You looked like you could use a hand. What is this all for?”

Your knuckles turned white around your trembling sword handle. Tesla remained low, calm and still. You took a step back, sheathing your zanpakutō. You tentatively approached, letting Tesla return your equipment to you. The box dropped like a weight in your arms.

“I’ve been sent to collect canyon crystals,” You answered, picking up your knee to readjust your grip before you turned on your heel to trudge away. Tesla frowned. He followed, strolling alongside you. Your back bent backwards a bit.

Wordlessly, Tesla accompanied you all the way to the canyon, about a few miles out from the Palace. He remained eerily silent, but in his defense, so did you. Fracciónes serving under masters such as yours were discouraged from speaking early on, so smalltalk certainly didn’t come easily. You kept a close eye on the other Arrancar out of your peripheral, but his posture only screamed polite and nothing more. Another fold of your lips and you turned your attention back forward. Quite frankly, you didn’t know how to handle this. You rarely got the opportunity to be in the company of other complete Arrancar, not including Szayelaporro.

At the edge of the ravine, the kit slipped in your arms and Tesla instinctively reached out an arm to catch it if you lost your grasp. You paid him no mind and instead hiked up a knee once again and continued on. You tilted your head, focusing on your footing as you descended into the chasm. Even at the surface, the space was dark and hollows of different designations howled in the depths. Tesla followed you down, his face gradually overtaken with shadows.

And in the pitchest of pitch black you saw them. Small glimmers in the darkness. You stumbled forward, the Fifth Espada’s Fracción close behind. You sat down in front of the small gathering of luminescent crystals and finally set down your burden. Tesla preferred to stand, on guard at the many noises around you. You quickly sorted through the bounty. Upon finding a quality bundle, you opened your materials box to pluck out a small pick. You felt Tesla’s stare. Arrancar were never truly creatures of companionship in your experience, but when solidarity came, it usually came quietly.

“These are Reiatsu Gems or canyon crystals. They are known to be excellent conductors of spirit energy,” You explained, voice ever-soft. The luminescence cast a faint light upon your face. You lowered a specimen into your extraction box, the glow retreating into the contained dimness. Standing, you heaved up your kit and moved deeper into the murk. Tesla followed. You passed by another gathering of crystals, then another. You felt Tesla beside you.

“What was wrong with those?” He asked, equally as quiet as you had just been.

“Not ready to be harvested,” You answered promptly.

“How can you tell?” You stopped at a small batch. The crystals grew diagonally out of the canyon wall at about waist level. You put your kit down and crouched down.

“See these here?” You gestured to the dimmest section of gems. “This place is filled with reiatsu, they should be glowing more.” You directed your attention to the brightest of the bunch. “See? These shine a little bit brighter.” And with your pick you extracted them.

You continued on, trudging around in the immensity of the ravine. You performed your field work diligently. The kit gradually began to fill with valuable specimens. Tesla came forth from the darkness, a glowing coming from his palm. He wordlessly presented it to you to inspect. You gave a grateful nod and carefully placed it in your box.

The journey up served to be more difficult than the journey down and your load had since doubled in weight. Tesla patiently waited as you struggled back up the canyon, at that point still refusing any kind of assistance. You plopped the kit on the sand at the top before pulling yourself up. Your body half hanging into the abyss, Tesla offered you a hand. You glanced at it, then back at him, and after a second of deliberation, you placed your hand in his. But a moment after you had found your footing and had your package back in your arms, a horde of adjuchas surrounded you and quickly.

Tesla scowled and flared his spiritual pressure. You looked up at him, beginning to piece together that his scowl served more as an unfortunate resting expression than any sort of intimidating grimace. Either way, the adjuchas were not discouraged. Tesla placed a hand on his zanpakutō and you sighed. He looked on in confusion at the disappointing shake of your head and curiously accepted your kit as you handed it to him.

“I have orders,” You exhaled, unfortunately not feeling any hungrier than usual. And as the gang of adjuchas lunged, too greedy for flesh and soul energy to recognize their opponents, you struck. Your blade made short work of them and your mask ornaments glowed. You tore into mask after mask, canines bared, and when you made it to the last one, you offered it to Tesla. He wanted to decline, but after some thought, he didn’t have it in him to decline a free meal.

***

“Adequate.” That encompassed all Szayelaporro had to say about the crystals you gathered. You placed them neatly at one of the lab tables as you cleaned and reorganized the field gear. Szayelaporro toyed with your gathered gems, inspecting them with a critical eye. He lifted one to his nose, taking in a slight inhale. “And why does this one smell vaguely like Nnoitra Gilga?”

“His Fracción accompanied me on my field work today.” Szayelaporro stared at you blankly, setting the bundle of crystals back down in disdain.

“You should have told him to go away.”

“And I did. I raised my sword against him like you told me to, but he did not seem to pose any threat. He was particularly interested in the Reiatsu Gems so he followed me.” Szayelaporro nodded once, appearing to be somewhat deep in thought, but his face remained expressionless.

“Let him accompany you next time as well.” The room was cast with a dull gleam.

“Yes, Master Szayelaporro.”

Notes: As much as I feel like Szayelaporro likes to make a show, I feel like he wouldn’t be as flamboyant when he thinks he doesn’t have an audience. I have too many Szayelaporro headcanons. I tried to make a single post with all of them but it’s like too many to fit. I’ll post those at some point. It’s in my drafts rn.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

#Thing-Winged series kick #Szayelaporro x reader #Szayelaporro Granz x reader #szayelaporro granz #szayel aporro granz #szayel #bleach headcanon #bleach headcanons #bleach imagines #bleach imagine #bleach x reader #bleach x you #bleach x y/n #bleach #tesla lindocruz #nnoitra #nnoitra gilga

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stufftippywrote · 3 years

Text

a suggestion

For @anonprecious on Twitter, who requested a Nielan kiss "as a suggestion" many moons ago. This takes place during the Sunshot campaign, so Mingjue is not yet Xichen's "da-ge."

The Sunshot Campaign has been hard on him.

This Lan Xichen can tell in a single glance. Even if he were meeting Nie Mingjue for the first time and not another in a series of a thousand strategy meetings, he’d be able to tell. The others, maybe not, because Nie Mingjue holds himself so upright, conducts his affairs with a practiced stiffness that discourages anyone from looking deeper. But the signs are there, as he leads the meeting, even if Lan Xichen is the only one who can see them - an exhalation, the grip of his hand on the table loosening, the circles of grey under his eyes.

The strategy session mercifully ends, and the other young military leaders make their way out of the room with all the tireless enthusiasm of youth. Lan Xichen remains. Nie Mingjue sits on a bench with his head low, propped up on one weary palm. He lets out a heavy breath. Lan Xichen approaches him carefully, as though he was a cobra that might strike if disturbed. But Nie Mingjue only looks up at him, and if anything there's relief in his eyes when he sees who's there.

"Xichen," he says, the name breaking halfway through as his voice gives.

"Mingjue-xiong," Lan Xichen returns. Nie Mingjue's shoulders slump. He would never slouch like this in front of his soldiers. It gladdens Lan Xichen's heart to know that this upright general can relax in front of him. He drives himself hard, and he deserves to be able to relax somewhere, with someone. Luckier still that Lan Xichen is that someone.

He steps forward and eases himself onto the bench next to Nie Mingjue. "When was the last time you slept?" he asks.

Nie Mingjue shakes his head and mumbles.

"How about your last meal?" Lan Xichen prods gently.

"I ate." Nie Mingjue evades his gaze.

"When?"

"This morning."

Lan Xichen wants to laugh. This serious, justice-minded man can be as stubborn as a toddler. "Well, you're eating again tonight," he says. “Come to my room, I’ll have dinner brought in for us.”

Nie Mingjue shakes his head, but there’s no conviction in it. “I need to look at these maps,” he says, even as he lets Lan Xichen pull him up and away.

He follows Lan Xichen through the passageways and tents like a guilty schoolboy, and they come at last to Lan Xichen’s quarters, a remarkably lovely room for the temporary nature of it. There’s a low table, some ornaments, an incense holder. Lan Xichen finds a stick and lights it, letting the soft perfume disperse into the room. “Sit,” he urges, and Nie Mingjue follows. “And remove your armor. We won’t be attacked tonight.”

Nie Mingjue grumbles a little at this, but he pulls off the heavy breastplate and belt, letting them sit unceremoniously beside the cushion where he sits. As he does, he can’t help letting out a little groan of relief. Lan Xichen hears it and tries not to smile.

He has food brought; the two eat in relative silence, though Lan Xichen tries to lighten the mood with a few observations about the state of the camp, the little dramas by the younger soldiers that play out under his nose. Nie Mingjue is not really listening, or at least he has nothing to say in response. He just eats -- trying not to appear rushed, though his bites are ravenous -- and “mm”s an assent once in a while. It’s fine. Lan Xichen is just happy to have him there, not behind his desk or hunched over a scroll, peering at faded characters in dim light.

When he’s finished, Nie Mingjue of course tries to get up and go. Lan Xichen is there, with a hand on his arm, tugging him back down. Nie Mingjue glares at him, taken aback. Lan Xichen scoots closer to him, pulling his cushion to sit side-by-side with him, and lets his hand wander down from arm to weathered hand. “Stay for a while,” he urges.

“I have things to do,” Nie Mingjue protests, but Lan Xichen shakes his head gravely. He’s learned from years with his brother that sometimes a protest is also an admission. Nie Mingjue wants to stay. He just needs Lan Xichen to insist.

So he does. “I told you, no one will attack us tonight,” Lan Xichen tells him. “You might as well stay and put your worries aside for a time. I can play for you if it will help ease your mind.” He conjures the silver-blue xiao into being in one hand.

Nie Mingjue looks at it, then at him, and shakes his head firmly. “I don’t need music,” he says.

“A game, then?” Lan Xichen gazes at the shelf, where a worn go board and two pots of stones sit. “Or would you prefer a drink? I can fetch some wine for you…”

“No, no.” Nie Mingjue waves a hand, dismissing both the suggestions. “I need--”

“--to go back to work?” Lan Xichen finishes. “Don’t you think you’ve worked enough for one day?”

“People are fighting and dying while I--” But Nie Mingjue doesn’t have the strength to continue the sentence. He pulls his hand out from under Lan Xichen’s and hides his face in it. “I have to carry on,” he says, his voice muffled. “I have to be strong.”

It’s almost comical. This man, who is the essence of strength to so many people, worrying he cannot be strong. Lan Xichen, not for the first time, envisions taking him in his arms and allowing him to rest there. He wants to be that haven for him. But this moment isn’t about him, and hope is a dangerous creature. He lifts his hand to Nie Mingjue’s back, just daring to stroke it gently, and shakes his head.

“What you have to be is healthy,” he corrects. “What good is a Mingjue-xiong who can barely read a map because he hasn’t slept in days? Without eating, will you have the strength to carry your sword?”

“I’ve eaten,” Nie Mingjue says. “And I can’t sleep.” He sounds weak. Defeated. Lan Xichen’s heart aches.

“Then release your tension,” he advises. “Surely you have a preferred way to do that.”

Nie Mingjue pauses, looks up. “Yes,” he says cautiously, “Battle.”

Lan Xichen almost wants to laugh. “Not battle. Something to calm the spirit and release the resentment. Meditation.” Nie Mingjue scoffs. “Or take to the woods and hunt game. Challenge one of the soldiers at camp to wrestle you. Whatever it is. Do what you need to do so you can return to that war table with your mind and body whole. But leave that saber alone for the night.”

How Lan Xichen despises that saber. It’s a priceless, high-level spiritual weapon, but every time Nie Mingjue wields it, it takes a piece of his soul. Lan Xichen remembers, long ago, a gentle, serious boy who nonetheless loved fiercely -- loved his brother, loved his friends, loved the trees and the sky. Loved justice, and he still does, but his love used to come with a brash grin and a light in his eyes. That saber, and this war, have crushed that.

There are several long seconds of silence. Nie Mingjue appears to be thinking. Lan Xichen can usually tolerate extended silence, but now, the quiet unnerves him. He has no idea how Nie Mingjue will respond. He sits as one would sit upon a cushion of pins, uncomfortable and itching to move.

But eventually Nie Mingjue seems to shake himself out of it, and catches Lan Xichen’s gaze with his own. There’s something soft in his eyes, and also something like interest. It’s a rare, unguarded look -- and it makes Lan Xichen catch his breath. “Do you have any other suggestions?” Nie Mingjue asks, and there’s something in his voice not unlike humor.

“Women?” Lan Xichen is hardly the person to suggest it, but he knows that’s a preferred tactic for many a soldier. “We could ride to the nearest town. Find a girl who’s willing.” Or for sale. Lan Xichen isn’t about to cast aspersions in the heat of war.

“Not interested.”

NIe Mingjue looks ready to check out again. Lan Xichen stumbles over himself in an effort to keep his attention. “Then -- then men, if that’s your preference,” he says.

But he gets a glare in return. “I’m not taking a stranger to bed.”

The words strike Lan Xichen funny. There’s nothing odd about them, surely, but between the lines there’s something to discover. First, that he didn’t immediately say he wasn’t interested in men, which is the reaction that question would get from many a soldier. And he made it sound like there was someone he’d consider -- someone he already knows. A bright spark of hope lights up in his chest. Is it possible? “Then--” he says. Carefully.

Nie Mingjue eyes him. This time it isn’t the angry glare, but a sort of caution -- as though he half-expects Lan Xichen to make some move. Again, that spark of optimism catches in Lan Xichen’s chest. Perhaps it would be okay if…

He leans in, lifts his hand to that weathered face. “If that’s how you feel,” he says, leaning closer to Nie Mingjue than he’s ever been, “then…”

He’s very careful as he presses his lips to Nie Mingjue’s closed mouth. Afraid to drive him away.

He isn’t driven away. Paralyzed, perhaps, as Lan Xichen pulls back again and gazes at him as beatifically as he can muster. Shocked, if the wide eyes and the slight part of his lips are anything to go by. But he doesn’t flee. Or pull back, or get up. He just stares, and slowly lifts a hand to his own lips.

“If you are interested,” Lan Xichen says, barely above a whisper.

And then Nie Mingjue lifts an eyebrow, and the corners of his lips twitch. “Really?” he asks, sounding incredulous.

Lan Xichen shrugs. “It’s just a suggestion.”

“A suggestion--” The words echoed back at him are devoid of any artifice. The Nie Mingjue before him is the boy Lan Xichen knew all those years ago. The one capable of so much love. Any shame or trepidation that Lan Xichen felt at offering that kiss vanishes. What he wanted to communicate, he has. Be the consequences what they may.

“Or we could play go,” he says, truly meaning it. Whatever he needs, Lan Xichen is willing and happy to give.

“Let’s do that.” Nie Mingjue says with some determination. Lan Xichen nods. Perhaps he feels a bit of disappointment, but not enough to regret what he’s done.

As he rises to bring the board and stones to the table, Nie Mingjue surprises him once more.

“Make your suggestion again afterwards,” he says.

#nielan #nie mingjuexlan xichen #stuff tippy wrote #mdzs fic #cql fic #nielan fic

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nejibaby · 3 years

Text

Time

Pairing: Sanji x F!Reader

Summary: Time is such an essential variable for a pirate cook like you. But outside cooking, you try your best not pay attention to it, most especially when it comes to the past. And yet because of the unpredictability of the Grand Line, you’ve come across someone from your past who you desperately wanted to forget. This incident makes you realize that despite how much time passes, sometimes feelings don’t really change.

Song reference/inspiration: Don’t You by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: It’s done! It’s finally done! I had this idea for quite some time now and I’m finally done with it. Imagine my relief. 😌 I liked how this turned out! But please let me know your thoughts about it… 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

There are a lot of oddities in the Grand Line. Among the concepts that are too complex to be explained are the drastic changes in the weather, the crazy magnetic fields of islands, and devil fruit powers.

What doesn’t change is the concept of time. In all technicality, time is what the clock reads. And regardless of your location inside or outside the Grand Line, it’s set on stone. There’s sixty seconds in a minute, sixty minutes in an hour, twenty four hours in a day, seven days in a week, and so on. It’s a fact that’s definitive, irrefutable, and beyond dispute.

And as a cook of the Kid Pirates, time is one of the essential variables, alongside temperature, in bringing dishes to life. That much you learned and mastered from the years you’ve been observing chefs in a certain restaurant in East Blue before you ran away to the South.

However, outside the kitchen — or to be more precise, outside cooking — you don’t pay too much attention to the time and dates, similar to your Captain, Kid.

You and your Captain would need Killer to inform you about preparing banquets and feasts for birthday celebrations for crew members, or to remind you of other important dates.

While you’re completely capable of keeping track of time, you didn’t want to and wouldn’t bother. What’s the point, really? It’s just that you didn’t want to be reminded of just how long since you ran away from the chefs who took you under their wing. You didn’t want to be reminded of just how long since you’ve last seen a certain curly-browed cook who you fell in love with but unfortunately got turned down from.

You’re entirely fine by saying it’s been a while since you’ve last seen those people. There isn’t any need to label a precise quantity of time since that moment in your life. It’s all in the past, and you have long learned to keep yourself busy so as not to be reminded of them in any way.

After all, remembering them always leads to pangs straight to your heart, and as a member of the Kid Pirates, it’s highly discouraged to wear your heart on your sleeve and show vulnerabilities like that.

Since leaving Baratie, you moved along with your life. You worked at a local restaurant in South Blue and somehow ended up meeting Kid and Killer. With Eustass Kid being impressed with your skills in the kitchen and the air of authority you exude while working, he demanded you join their crew. And in all honesty, it didn’t take too much convincing on their part as you too wanted to travel the world, and perhaps find All Blue, a dream you shared with the man you fell in love with.

Pledging loyalty to Eustass Kid is one of the decisions you could never regret. Ever since joining the crew, they have become masters of being subtle in their ways of showing they all care for you. And it’s only evident by the way they’re all overprotective of you (even if you’ve pretty much mastered self defense and the art of using a gun) simply because among the group of brutes, you looked like a lone flower — splendid, precious, and delicate. And due to that, traveling the seas with the Kid Pirates is particularly enjoyable for you; dangerous, sure, but enjoyable nonetheless.

On account of the unpredictability of the Grand Line; more precisely the New World, you have learned to always be ready to face anything. But maybe you aren’t as prepared as you thought you are.

Because somehow, in between gathering food supplies alone for the crew and fighting against a group of Marines who found you, you came face to face with the cook you desperately wanted to forget.

And to make matters much worse, when you quite literally bumped into him, you’ve already been shot twice by the Marines, leading you to lose your consciousness right in his arms.

For some reason, with how huge the Grand Line is, you have never taken into consideration the probability of meeting him once again. And this unpreparedness unsettles you right away. So when you wake up in the Straw Hats’ sailing ship, all bandaged up and weak from the loss of blood, you’re quick to show hostility as a defense mechanism.

But that facade doesn’t last long, your mask easily slipping after a day with the crew, showing your naturally gentle and sweet side to everyone except to a certain man named Sanji. Ultimately, it’s quite impossible for you to remain hostile and aggressive in the presence of such nice and hospitable characters, especially when they kindly offered to drop you off to the next island and allowed you to contact Kid to let him know about your predicament.

You do, however, isolate yourself from the Straw Hats as much as possible. The only time you allow yourself to be in everyone’s presence is during meal times. As a chef, you know well enough that food is at its best when served right away and eaten in the presence of company.

But you aren’t dumb. You know the dishes served by Sanji aren't purely coincidental. With just one look at the table, you could easily recognize all of your favorite meals — meals that reminded you of the days when you had fallen in love with him. It’s blatantly obvious that some of the foods on the table are made especially for you.

This is where your reservations come in. After all, the reason why your favorite foods were your favorites was because they’re what Sanji used to cook when you’re upset. And because of your feelings for him, the food would always make your heart full and happy. And to be honest, you didn’t want to remember that feeling.

Moreover, you didn’t want to give Sanji the impression that everything’s fine between the two of you. You also didn’t want him to think that you’ve forgiven him for turning you down, and proceeding to step on your heart by letting you watch him flirt with other girls.

If you were any other person, you probably wouldn’t even touch the meals he made to prove these points. But you’re a cook, and it’s against your morals to let food come to waste. The most you can do so as not to give Sanji the upper hand is to stop yourself from eating as much as you usually would, regardless of how delicious the food is.

You can tell it’s working from the way Sanji’s lips are slightly downturned as he watches you only take a nibble of your favorites while consuming the other meals that are meant for the other crew members. This goes unnoticed by the others though; they’re too enamored with the new variety of dishes on the table to even pay attention.

This goes on for a few meal times, but you have to admit that despite only taking a few bites of the dishes you used to love, they’re still capable of bringing back the memories of your past with Sanji, maybe not in full force, but it’s enough to disconcert you.

On your third day with the Straw Hats, after seeing him fawn over Nami and Robin, the tension between you and Sanji becomes a little too overwhelming for you to the point where you feel the need to hide in the crow’s nest to calm yourself down.

When you get there, you’re surprised yet relieved that Zoro isn’t there. You instantly take a seat facing the window. You relish the silence. But it’s only momentary, broken by the sound of someone knocking on the door.

Rude as it may be, you don’t acknowledge the person. Whoever it is still enters the room anyway.

“Y/N-chan, can we talk?”

You hate the way your heart starts wildly pounding again just by the mere sound of Sanji’s voice.

“I thought we’ve established the fact that I don’t want to talk to you,” you respond coldly.

This doesn’t discourage Sanji though. “If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. But will you please listen to me?”

You frown, but you remain silent. Sometimes, most especially at times like this, you wish you could hate him. But that’s just something you can’t do no matter how hard you try.

He takes your silence as a good sign, so he sits himself beside you.

You aren’t looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you. This lasts for a few minutes, Sanji just gazing at you without uttering a word.

You didn’t mean to count, but by the second minute of silence, you snap. “What? I thought you wanted to tell me something? Why aren’t you talking?”

He looks away and clears his throat. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just… it’s been five years since I last saw you.”

His statement takes you by surprise. Has it already been five years since you left Baratie? And more importantly, was Sanji keeping count?

For whatever reason, Sanji chuckles. He faces you once again and smiles, “It’s been five years but you still look as gorgeous and radiant as ever.”

As always, Sanji has a way with his words. The compliment makes your heart beat impossibly faster. But you know you shouldn’t fall for his words. “Sanji, don’t. Let’s not go there,” you say with a sigh.

He visibly deflates at your response. And it makes you want to take back what you’ve just said. “What have you been up to?” He tries asking, his voice low enough you almost don’t hear him, as if this conversation hurts him just as much as it pains you.

You didn’t really plan on responding. The agreement was to let Sanji do the talking and you do the listening, but you can see his sad expression in the corner of your eye and it tugs your heartstrings a little bit so you reply, “I’m a pirate now.”

“You are?” He perks up upon hearing you responding. “Who’s your captain?”

You finally face him, wanting to see his reaction. “Eustass Kid.”

His face instantly contorts into displeasure. “Kid?” He asks once again. When you nod your head, there’s a different look on his face, almost like he’s angry or he’s annoyed. “Why Kid? Don’t tell me he forced you to do it?! That bas—”

But before he could even finish his sentence, you pull out your gun and point it at his head.

He’s taken aback by your speed and the look of determination in your eyes.

“Watch your words, Sanji.” You cock your gun. “Just because we’re on speaking terms doesn’t mean I won’t shoot you. You can call me bad names if you want, break my heart like you did, but if you say one more bad thing about my captain, I won’t hesitate on putting a bullet through your head,” you threaten.

Sanji gulps, raises his hands in surrender, and nods his head.

Yet you pull the trigger anyway. Sanji could only close his eyes once he sees your finger move.

But there’s no impact at all. When he tentatively opens his eyes, he sees you putting away your gun in its previous location.

You’re well aware that you have no ammunition left, having used them all up when you fought the Marines, but sometimes even an unloaded gun is enough to intimidate and scare someone into submission, and to get your point across.

Silence envelopes the crow’s nest after that incident. Sanji isn’t afraid of you per se, he’s just a little bit surprised with the change in your attitude.

For a moment the thought of you having feelings for Kid passes through his mind, and he internally gets upset with the thought. In fact, he hates it but he doesn’t let it dissuade him from trying to make amends with you.

He allows you to have a couple more minutes of silence. But when he has decided that it’s time for him to talk, the first thing he blurts out is, “I missed you a lot when you left.”

His confession breaks something in you. You didn’t like the way you equally liked and hated hearing this from him. “Sanji, don’t…” your voice cracks and your vision blurs. “Don’t smile at me. Don’t ask me how I’ve been. Don’t you say you’ve missed me if you don’t want me. Don’t get my hopes up, because you don’t know how much I love you still. Just don’t…”

“Y/N-chan…” he calls out to you, his hand hesitantly reaching out to you. And when you don’t protest, he pulls you into a hug, rubbing his hands gently on your back.

Sanji hates seeing you like this — so defeated and broken, all because of him. He didn’t like seeing you cry. But right now he knows he needs to explain himself. “I liked you too back then…”

You pull away in shock after hearing his words, wiping the tears in your eyes. Just as you’re about to ask why he turned you down, he continues, “But the old geezer was against it. He says if I couldn’t stay loyal to you, then I’d only hurt you more and make matters worse.”

What Sanji was saying makes a lot of sense. Zeff highly respects women, which was why he couldn’t turn you away when you had nowhere else to stay. And knowing Sanji, you can tell just how much he looks up to him, despite him always talking back to the older chef. It’s only natural for him to heed Zeff’s words.

“I was young and I didn’t think I was ready yet, so I turned you down as gently as I could… and when you said it was fine, I was so relieved. But then you left without a word and I… I just… I really did miss you all these years.”

“What about now?”

“Huh?”

“Do you still… like me?” You ask meekly.

Sanji smiles, which makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. “I do, but…”

You sigh sadly, “But?”

He looks over the window, and you follow his gaze. The sight of Luffy being chased around by Usopp on the deck welcomes you. “My loyalty still lies elsewhere.”

You immediately understand what he’s trying to say, and for the first time since you arrived in the Thousand Sunny, you genuinely smile. “Someday, then?”

Sanji faces you once again, and reciprocates your smile. “Yeah. Someday.”

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hearts-hunger · 3 years

Text

ciryc ca’tra (cold night sky): chapter one || din djarin x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Series Summary: When you crash-land on a frozen planet on your way to Trask, you and Din work together to keep the Crest afloat and keep your little family safe under the cold night sky. || Part One of Jate’kara (Lucky Stars)

Chapter Summary: Tensions run high as the magnitude of your situation begins to dawn on both you and Din, but you both know the only way out is to work together.

Pairings: Din Djarin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort, fluff, angst

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: None!

A/N: I wanted to see how this episode would go if Din had a loving partner by his side who needed protection but also gave invaluable support and encouragement. Here’s what I came up with. Enjoy! ♡

You came to consciousness with a jolt, hands shaking and head pounding as you tried to orient yourself. You were in the cockpit of the Crest - you knew that much. It was cold - freezing - and much too quiet; electricity sparked and alarms warbled with blinking lights all over the instrument panels.

“Din,” you said weakly. You closed your eyes for a moment as a wave of dizziness overcame you.

You heard the turn of the pilot’s chair, felt Din’s gloved hands on your face. “Cyar’ika. I'm here.”

You opened your eyes and his helm came into focus; you leaned forward and rested your head against his for a moment.

“What happened?” you asked.

He shook his head. “We fell through the ice. I think I passed out when I hit the dash - I don’t know how long it’s been since - ”

A feeble groan came from the opposite side of the cockpit, and both you and Din looked over.

“Oh, Din,” you said, needlessly urging him to help. The frog lady had fallen; Din helped her back into her chair, nodding at her urgent croaking.

“I’ll find your eggs, don’t worry,” he assured her, knowing despite the language barrier what she was worried about. You felt a sudden wave of panic and guilt - where was your baby?

You stood, a little too quickly - you had to brace yourself on the instrument panel for a second as the dizziness passed.

“Easy, cyare,” Din said, reaching a hand out to steady you. “I think you hit your head when we fell.”

That would explain the dull pounding, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care what had happened to you.

“Din, the baby,” you said, looking up at him.

“I know,” he said, assuring you that he was just as aware and just as worried. He opened the cockpit door and jumped down to the second level. You followed down the ladder a little more carefully, and you felt his hands on your waist as he helped you down.

At the bottom of the ladder, both of you stood stunned, in utter disbelief at the wreckage of your home. Snow and icy wind were streaming in through the hole punched clean through the side of the ship; everything that had been stowed neatly was strewn across the floor, broken, covered in snow. Cut wires sparked and hung menacingly over it all.

“Damn it,” he said quietly.

Grief seemed to settle heavy on your shoulders, and you took your husband’s hand. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, trying to comfort you, to say all the things that both of you couldn’t bear to voice. He turned to press the access button for your bunk; as the door slid open, you scanned the entirety of the small space looking for the baby.

“Where is he, Din?” you asked, icy fear gripping you when you couldn’t find him. You had worried he might have fallen from his hammock, but for him to be gone -

“Stay here,” Din said, briefly touching his hand to your torso to make you stay put. The frog lady’s worried pleas echoed from the cockpit, and Din looked upwards.

“Hang on, I’m looking for your eggs,” he called. He carefully made his way through the wreckage, looking this way and that for any sign of the eggs or the baby.

He lifted a tarp, and you saw the tension bleed out of him and heard a little coo of protest. You put a hand to your chest reflexively, willing your pulse to slow now that you knew where your foundling was.

“No!” Din said, in his scolding voice. You watched as he picked up the frog lady’s eggs and looked back down at the baby. “I told you not to do that.”

You gave him a questioning look, but before he could answer, the frog lady called again.

“Found them!” Din said. He looked back at the baby. “How many did you eat?”

Oh, not again, you thought. Din scooped the baby up and brought him over to you, and you held him tight and kissed his ears despite Din’s recent scolding.

“You’re ok, ad’ika,” you said soothingly, more for yourself than for him. He cuddled close to you for warmth and looked up at his father with a cautious gaze.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Din said. He pointed to the eggs in the chamber. “I told you no. No more.”

The baby gave a disappointed coo. Satisfied he’d made his point for now, Din sighed and patted the baby’s head.

“Stay here with mom, and be good.” He looked at you. “I’m going to take these up to her, and then try to patch up down here. You should stay in the bunk to keep warm.”

You fished one of the blankets out and handed it to him. “Bring that up to her.”

He nodded and tossed it over his arm, his free hand hovering protectively as you climbed into the bunk with the baby. You wrapped both of you in a blanket, holding him close to your chest; you leaned your head against the side of the bunk to try and ease some of the ache on the cool metal.

The baby babbled in greeting when Din came back down, and Din offered a small wave hello as he went searching through the mess for his toolbox. You could tell he was getting increasingly more frustrated with every upturned box and sparking cable; his body language said as much, and a clipped, quiet curse would come through the modulator every so often.

Eventually he found what he was looking for, and he tacked up a tarp over the hole in the siding. That at least stopped the wind from blowing snow in with every gust, but it was still cold; your breaths came in little clouds as you watched Din try to set the ship to rights again, at least on the inside. You asked if he needed help, feeling guilty for staying in the bunk while he was doing all the work, but he assured you he would rather you rest and stay with the baby.

For his part, the baby fell asleep, too cold for his usual wandering. You started to feel restless as your headache subsided and the full magnitude of your situation weighed on you. You carefully laid the baby on the bunk, wrapping him up in the blanket that still held your warmth, and closed the hatch.

Din looked up from his tinkering. “You should be resting, cyare.”

You shook your head and minded the low-hanging cables as you came over to him, resting your hands on his shoulders. He’d been kneeling on the unforgiving metal floor for half an hour, hunched over a panel on the carbonite system. You kneaded your hands into his tense muscles; you knew it wouldn’t do much, through the fabric of his cloak and the straps of his breastplate, but he sighed and relaxed a little nonetheless.

“It’s leaking fluid,” he said, gesturing to the carbonite system. “Which isn’t that pressing, all things considered, but it’s the only thing I know how to fix right now.”

You leaned to press a kiss to his helm. “I know, honey,” you said. You knew he was frustrated and overwhelmed with all the work to be done, and you also knew he was doing his very best to fix things.

He leaned back on his heels. “I can’t do anything on the outside yet,” he continued, the words tumbling out of him like he’d been trying to come up with an explanation or justification for why things weren’t fixed yet. “I don’t think the ice has settled, and I don’t want to make us sink further. The generator and acceleration chamber are probably the worst hit, but I can’t even find the right tools in all this mess.”

“Hey,” you said, draping your arms over his shoulders. “You’re doing the best you can, Din. Nobody could ask more of you.”

He stood, a little abruptly, and you stepped back to give him space. He turned but didn’t say anything for a moment.

“We’re stranded on a frozen planet,” he said finally, his voice flat. “I have none of the tools I need to make a proper repair of the Crest. I have you and the baby to think of, not to mention another passenger and her babies, which can probably survive less of the cold than we can. It’s only going to get colder when night falls, and there’s nothing I can do to generate heat with the main power drive out.”

You felt more discouraged with each of the problems he listed, but you didn’t like his tone. You’d known him to tend towards pessimism, but this defeatist attitude certainly wasn’t going to help anything.

“I know all that,” you said, looking up at his visor with what little defiance you could muster. “You don’t have to lecture me, Din. I’m an adult, and I can see for myself that we’re in a tight spot.”

“I’m not lecturing you,” he said, irritated. “I’m trying to make you understand that we’re not getting out of this with a little luck and elbow grease. I can’t even start looking at what needs to be repaired until morning.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, cold and defensive. “Fine,” you said, painfully aware of how quickly your nerves and tempers were fraying with each other. “You’ve made me understand. Check that off your list.”

“That’s not - ” He gave a frustrated huff. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I didn’t come over here to fight, Din. I was trying to be nice, and you - ”

“I don’t need nice right now, cyare,” he shot back.

You flinched a little at the way he’d flung the name back at you. “Don’t call me that when you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry,” he insisted, though it wasn’t very convincing. “I just wish you’d - ”

“What?” you demanded. “Wish I would what? Help? Fine.”

You felt your own guilt at not helping earlier resurface, and you started in on the pile of disorganized storage and little pieces of wreckage that he’d pushed to the side earlier to clear space. It was a mess, and much of it was broken; you reached your hand into a smaller pile of debris and felt a sharp pain in your ring finger.

“Dank farrik,” you bit out, quickly snatching your hand back and seeing a bright rivulet of blood down the length of your finger. You stuck it in your mouth and avoided looking at your husband.

“Let me see,” he said, sticking his hand out. You reluctantly placed your hand in his, wincing a little when he turned your hand to see better, even as gentle as his touch was.

“Sorry,” he said. He studied the cut for a moment. “It doesn’t look too bad. Let me get a bandage.”

He rifled around until he found a med-kit; he took off his gloves and let you rest your hand on his open palm while he dabbed antiseptic on the cut and wrapped a small bandage around it.

“There,” he said. He ran his thumb over your palm in a gesture of tenderness, and you felt the sting of tears.

“I’m sorry for how I spoke to you,” he said gently. “I was frustrated, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Please forgive me.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, but you couldn’t stop a few tears from falling. You tried to brush them away before he noticed, but Din was nothing if not observant.

“Hey, cyar’ika,” he said, worried. “Does it hurt that bad?”

“No,” you said honestly, quickly brushing the tears from your face. “I’m just...”

You were embarrassed by your outburst and the stupid way you’d hurt yourself; you were tired and achy and worried, and fighting with Din had been the worst part of it all.

“Of course I forgive you,” you said, your voice a little wobbly. “I’m sorry too.”

He sighed and rested his helm against your head for a moment, a brief kiss. “The only way we’re going to get out of here is if we work together.”

You nodded. “What do you need me to do? How can I help?”

He released your hands to put his gloves back on. “I need you to watch the baby and make sure our friend has everything she needs, for her and her eggs. Food, too - it probably got thrown all over storage, but we’ll need something to eat.”

“Okay,” you agreed. “I can do that. What are you going to do?”

He sighed. “I’m going to try and patch up the holes in the hull, just so we don’t freeze to death before we even get started on the major repairs. Then maybe take a look at the cockpit and see if anything still turns on.”

As if to punctuate his point about freezing to death, a sudden shiver went through you; he reached out to rub his hands up and down your arms to create a little heat.

“Get my spare cloak for yourself, cyare,” he said. “And try and find some extra blankets, if you can.”

You lightly kissed his visor, then rubbed it with your sleeve so it wasn’t blurry. His laugh came through the modulator and made you smile.

“Did I just hear Din Djarin laugh?” you teased. “Maybe things aren’t as bad as they seem.”

He gave a hum of agreement and brushed his thumb over your cheek. “Only because you’re here.”

He touched a hand to the bottom of his visor, a shorthand he’d come up with when you first started courting, like blowing you a kiss. He went up the second level to check the hull; you unearthed the chest of your clothes from underneath the debris, careful of any more broken objects, and found his spare cloak to wrap around your shoulders.

After you’d found the extra blankets and given one to the frog lady, for which she croaked her thanks, you set yourself to the task of organizing the wrecked storage room. It was on the second level, past the carbonite storage area, and you were glad you didn’t have to walk past any grisly frozen figures to get to it. You’d endured plenty during Din’s bounty hunter days, and you often found yourself grateful that those were over.

You found enough food for a meal or two, more if you stretched. You had been intending to resupply when you reached Trask, and you didn’t know now how long it would take to get there. You prepared something simple for dinner - with no power, you couldn’t make much use of your little kitchenette on the wall of the storage room - and took it back downstairs, asking the frog lady to join you.

You could hear the baby talking to himself when you came back down, and after handing your guest her food, you opened the door to the bunk and were greeted by a toothy smile.

“Hello, my love,” you cooed. He gave you uppy arms and you scooped him up, holding him close; he gently tugged on a clawful of your hair and babbled happily at you.

“Yes, I know,” you said. “You’re so happy after your nap, aren’t you? Are you hungry?”

He cast a longing look at the glass chamber holding the eggs, and you frowned.

“No,” you said. “You remember daddy said no. Besides, I made you some dinner you’ll like very much.”

You set him down on a storage box and handed him his little plate of food; he gave a happy coo and contentedly had his dinner. Satisfied he would stay put, you went back up to look for Din.

It didn’t take long to find him; a steady stream of Mandalorian curses were coming from behind the cockpit doors. You felt sympathetic for his frustration and amused at his language, which he usually rarely indulged in, and opened the doors to find your husband flipping every switch on the panels trying to get something to work.

“Osik’la skanah,” he growled, jamming a button with a little more force than necessary.

“I’m guessing that’s not a phrase I should use talking to any other Mandalorians,” you said.

He turned in the pilot’s chair, cocking his head at you. He sighed.

“No, probably not,” he admitted.

“Tell me what it means, though.” You leaned in conspiratorially. “I like to learn new ways to curse.”

He gave a dry laugh. “It’s not really a curse. More like - junk. Useless, messed up junk.”

You grimaced. “That good, huh?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what I expected. We took damage when we hit the ice shelf, and then we took even worse damage when we fell through the ice. I can’t get anything but the filtration system and emergency lights to come on.”

You sighed. “Well, those are both things we need, and they would be very hard to go without. We can be thankful we have those.”

He shook his head. “I know you’re right, but I can’t see past all the other damage. I have no idea how I’m going to fix the Crest with what I have.”

You put a hand on his arm, trying to comfort him. “You know more about this ship than anyone, Din. And you know more about spaceship mechanics than most technicians. You’ll figure something out. I have complete confidence in you.”

His shoulders fell. “Thank you, cyare,” he said sincerely. “That... means a lot. Really.”

You smiled, pleased you had encouraged him, at least a little bit.

“Come on,” you said, taking his hand and pulling him out of the cockpit before he got fed up with any more switches or buttons. “There’s dinner, and your son’s probably trying to use his powers to get into the tank of eggs for dessert.”

Read chapter two!

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#let me know what you think!#my update schedule is..... well there's not one #the next part will be out when she's good and ready #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian chapter 10 #chapter 10: the passenger #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin fanfiction #maddie writes stuff!

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spookyhalloweennights · 4 years

Text

Birds of a Feather (Syro: SFW)

Your first day on the job was nothing less than breathtaking. Having just graduated and finding a position in the rehabilitation field, you were over the moon when you had started. Although the manager couldn’t be more than displeased at the fact that a human was working in their facility, and a human female nonetheless so straight away they had assigned you to the most difficult patient in the facility.

The patient? A male harpy whose plumage reminded you of a raptor. His talons had clacked against the floor, the noise only stopping once every few moments as he had paused and stared out the window wistfully. A sigh that sounded more like a whistle had come from him, however as you had begun to move closer his gaze snapped to yours. Piercing yellow eyes met yours in an intense stare before he let out a screech of hatred.

“A human! They dare insult me like this?” He screamed and you had backed away hastily, tripping over the tray you had been rolling with you and falling. Landing hard on your back with the wind knocked out of you. The only saving grace you had was an elf who had heard the commotion and came rushing over to help you clean up the mess and make sure you were okay. The petite elf had turned her attention to the harpy who was making such a fuss with his feathers all ruffled up.

“Syro! It is rather impolite of you to behave so badly, she is just as good of a nurse as any one of us here. Otherwise she wouldn’t be here.” The elf, who you’d later come to know as Gweyir, scolded. The harpy had shrunk back as the lecture continued for another minute or so before she was finally done.

With a grumble, the harpy had reluctantly allowed you into his room to do your job. You had taken notice of the scrapes and bruises that he had once you had gotten closer to him. Feathers were missing and the biggest thing that you had missed before was that his right wing was broken. He didn’t talk to you, at least not at first. He’d merely stand stock still while you tended to the wounds and left him food, which continued for nearly a year after you had started.

It wasn’t that Syro wasn’t ready to go after he had fully healed, he had nowhere to go so he dragged it out for as long as possible. He attended multiple sessions with various therapists to talk about what had happened to him, you never knew the details of his case until Gweyir had told you as the pair of you were making your usual rounds.

“He was exiled from his flock, a bad hunter and they didn’t want him dragging them down so… The only logical punishment they could think of was bodily harm and forcing him to leave. Without a flock, most harpies don’t make it on their own.” She explained, the manager had given you both a quick nod as you brushed past. In the past few months they had come to warm up to the idea of having a human female around, plus you were the most dedicated worker alongside Gweyir that they had.

“That’s… Rough.” Was all you could think of to say as you processed the information. Gweyir nodded in agreement.

However, the ruffling of feathers had caught your attention and you glanced to your left. Seeing Syro all puffed up and a low squawk of sorts came from him at the mention of what had happened. You awkwardly waved Gweyir goodbye as she wished you luck. Putting on your best smile, you walked inside as Syro merely eyed you and turned away with a huff.

“Bad day?” You asked the harpy, he would occasionally humor you with short answers in response to your questions.

“That elf has no idea what happened.” He grumbled in response. “It wasn’t exactly like that. It was… Way different than what they had thought it was.”

You set to work, he was a lot more compliant in letting you do your job than he was when you had first met him. You kept the surprise that rose up in you at the idea of him telling you what had happened under check as you didn’t want to discourage him from talking.

“My flock was… Ruthless. Took whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. There wasn’t anything they wouldn’t slaughter if it got in their way. And considering that our species isn’t… Too common, it wasn’t a surprise when my flock had climbed its way to the top of being the most feared.” He began to pace back and forth again, the talons clicking against the floor in an ominous manner. “I was not like them. I couldn’t take or kill just for the thrill of it. And when it came time for the ‘coming of age’ ceremony… I failed, and that resulted in me being harmed the way I was. And then those humans... It was worse before you had come here. I was exiled. I’m not allowed to go to any other flock or that puts them in danger. I’m… Stuck in a way.” His voice had grown softer as a forlorn look overcame his features.

You had listened intently to him, the story tugging at your heart in a way that was unexpected. “Syro…” Your mouth had run dry and you found yourself unable to say anything to him.

“You needn’t say anything to me. I realize now that not all humans are bad. You being amongst the few who are genuinely good.” He complimented, though he pointedly kept his gaze away from you as you stared up at him.

You weren’t quite sure what to say in response to the compliment, mumbling out a quick thanks and hurrying out of the room once you had finished your duties. You walked back into the nurse’s station and sank into a chair, your face the color of a cherry. Gweyir had come in not too long after you and had mistaken the blush on your face for you crying and anger seemed to run through the elf.

“Was he mean to you? Did he hurt you? I swear I’ll pluck him like a chicken if…” You interrupted her before she could continue on any further.

“Nothing like that Gweyir. He complimented me.” The shock on her face mimicked your own. “I know, he told me that I was one of the few good humans, and… He opened up more about his past.” You finished, Gweyir slumping in the seat next to you.

“Geez, I didn’t expect that.” She murmured before glancing at you. “He only has two weeks left here before they force him to leave. I overheard the manager talking to one of the higher ups.”

“Oh.” Was all that came as the news came as a second surprise to you today. “I have to go, I have to at least warn him.” You said as you slid the half eaten bag of chips over to Gweyir before getting up and heading out the break room doors.

Syro had taken the news exactly as you had expected him to, with a lot of anger and feather ruffling as he paced the room. Stretching his wings in annoyance before his gaze settled on you again, any amount of trust he had put into you earlier was gone with this new information.

“Get out.” He hissed at you, and you merely blinked in response. The statement took a moment to fully process but by that time, he was in your face.

“Get out!” He screeched, stretching out his wings and looking more intimidating than you had ever seen him. You scrambled out of the room and narrowly avoided the metal tray being thrown at your head by said harpy.

It was after that incident that your manager had decided to transfer you to another patient. They had declared that you had finished your duties with Syro, but you knew that wasn’t the case. Nevertheless you didn’t have the energy to argue with your manager, and while your new patient was lovely and a breath of fresh air. You missed Syro. The mermaid you had been assigned to was oftentimes a bit too chatty for your taste.

You had only briefly seen the harpy once or twice after the incident, each time you had turned before his gaze could find yours. The new nurse that was taking care of him seemed to be doing better than what you had been anyway. A bitter taste seemed to rise in the back of your throat when you had caught the pair enjoying a conversation together, a smile was present on his features.

What did it matter anyway? You were no longer assigned to him. You should just go back to your job, at least that’s what you told yourself until you found yourself cornered by the large harpy. His hands placed on either side of your head as he stared down at you with a frown on his features.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He stated, and you couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from you. It confused Syro more than anything in the world, just enough that you could slip away.

“I’ve been assigned to another patient Syro. It’s my job… Besides, they figured your new nurse would suit your needs better anyway.” You stated calmly as you made your way down the hallway, the clicking of his talons on the tiled floor gave way to him following you.

“I preferred you as my nurse. And I had tried to tell that manager otherwise but they weren’t hearing it.” He huffed in annoyance. You paused, the familiar feeling of shock spreading through you before you merely shook your head.

“You smile a lot more around that nurse, and you’ve become well enough to come out of your room now and join the others in the mess hall rather than taking your meals in your room. I’d say she’s doing her job right.” You hummed thoughtfully, heading to the small cubicle where the cabinets were. You placed the tray and other equipment back in their right places.

“I miss you.” He said simply. “And I wanted to apologize for how I reacted, it was wrong of me to take it out on you like I did. I know I can’t go back but… I want you to know that much.” Syro shifted as though he was uncomfortable admitting he was wrong. “The other nurse helped me realize that.”

“It’s alright Syro, I know stuff like that can be shocking. The important thing is that you realized it.” You responded, turning to face the massive creature in front of you.

A relieved smile spread across his face at the apology acceptance. He sighed softly before glancing around to see if any others were near you. “Can I visit you? Once I’m out of here I mean…”

“Of course you can!” You responded eagerly. “You can come by here or I’ll show you where my house is if you wait once you’re out of here.”

He merely nodded in acknowledgement before the pair of you heard the other nurse calling his name, a grimace came across his features before he looked down at you one more time. It seemed as though he was debating something in his mind before he finally leaned down and nuzzled against you with a quiet chirp of appreciation. The action left you stunned, but before you could say anything else to him, he had turned and walked down the hallway.

In the following week, you had made an effort to stop by Syro’s room more than usual, each time you were greeted with him nuzzling against you before he listened to you chat about your day. Only occasionally chiming in with a thought, other times you’d listen to him talk about what his life was like before he had come here. It was dark, more so than what anyone had actually expected of the creature. When the day came that he had to leave, he had asked to leave at the same time you had got off your shift.

“Are you ready?” You asked Syro as you adjusted the strap on your bag that you took to work with you every day. The harpy hummed in thought before merely nodding in response to the question.

“Let’s get this over with.” His voice was rough, to others it may have sounded like he was excited to be leaving but you knew underneath that he was terrified.

The walk to your home was silent, save for the occasional comment that you made to keep his nerves down. It wasn’t until you had arrived at your front door steps that you could see the genuine fear in Syro’s eyes. He really did have nowhere to go, and in the moment you had made a rash decision.

“Why don’t you stay here with me for a while? At least until you get on your feet.” You offered, and it seemed as though the idea shocked Syro. It took him a moment to respond to the proposal.

“I won’t get in your way. I appreciate you doing this for me.” He said as he walked up the steps right as you opened the door, you stepped aside to let him in first.

“I’ll have to get the guest room set up properly for you but otherwise you can help yourself to anything in here.” You said.

“Thank you.” Came the response as he looked around your house. “Your home is lovely.”

Two years had passed since that day, and you really couldn’t imagine your life any other way. Your relationship with Syro had developed into something more as time had progressed and you showed him the basics to surviving on his own. Except he never left, and you never had a complaint about it. In fact you had begun to look forward to going home after a long day at the rehabilitation center, knowing that your harpy would no doubt have prepared something for you to eat or a relaxing bath.

After a particularly stressful day with a new patient, you had dragged yourself up the front steps and into your home. The clicking of Syro’s talons on the floorboards brought a smile to your face, you kicked your shoes off and plopped down on the couch. Golden eyes came into sight as Syro had kneeled down in front of you with a faint smile.

“Rough day?” He asked and you merely nodded in response to the question, sighing as he chuckled in response.

“The new patient is a lot worse than anything I’ve ever dealt with. I don’t know if I can handle this one, they’re just… unreceptive to everything we’ve tried so far.” You vented while Syro had listened to you intently.

“Give them time, they’ll come around. I know that you can do it, you dealt with me.” He responded with a faint smile. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Get some rest, I’ll take care of dinner.”

When you had come home a few weeks later with a grin on your face, Syro knew that you had gotten the patient to finally open up and he couldn’t be more proud of you than what he was in that moment.

#exophilia #monster lover #monster #monster x reader #male harpy #female reader #male harpy x reader #harpy x reader #Spooky'sWriting #sfw #spookyhalloweennights

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random-imagines-blog · 3 years

Text

Walk Among the Dead {Louis de Ponte du Lac Oneshot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2414 Summary: A brooding vampire cannot take his eyes off you. How are you going to hold that attention?

It was your dancing which had caught his eye. You were making a display of yourself, seemingly so alive in this decrepit city. The smile on your face was large, like you were genuinely happy, something that Louis had not felt in a long time. But more than jealousy, you were triggering something else inside of those hollow bones of his. A longing thirst that came from deep within. He could see the blood running through the veins of your neck, the pulsing point, every single breath. He started to salivate, thinking of the sweet blood that must be coursing through you. Making it’s way to your face as you sweated in exertion but kept on going. The tangy, salty smell came from all of the humans, but yours was the only one that was enticing.

Louis sat in the darkness, watching. Wishing that he could be like you. Be like all of the humans once again, living without knowing what or who it was that went walking in the night. Able to drink wine, able to eat real food. Not living off of rats in the sewers, disgusting little things. Or killing the pretty little dogs of rich women. Look at them. All of their bodies squashed together like fish in a barrel, just ripe for the taking. But he only wanted you.

His eyes followed as you escaped from the throng, pushing hair out of your face, laughing with glee and adrenaline. You were coming in closer. He retreated further into the darkness. Leaning back against his chair. Becoming one with it. ‘Do not see me, do not see me’ he whispered as quietly as he could, barely able to hear himself, but keeping the sentiment and the power in his voice. But it did not work. You continued on in your trajectory towards him, bending down just a little.

“Why do you sit in the shadows?” You asked him, offering your hand. He could see the lines across your palm; the life line, the love line, on full display in front of his eyes. The wrist with it’s delicate veins just below. Nails short, dirty - but everyone’s were these days. It was a filthy town, New Orleans. Not like his own nails which were long, pointed, pristine. So obviously different from everyone elses. “Come join the dance with us. Do not be shy. We’re all friendly here.”

“But I am not,” Louis said, getting to his feet without your help. He intended to walk away but that hand kept enticing him. Even as he stood, cloaked in black, your hand was reaching out for him. Like a lifeline. Like you were ready to pull him back into the human world that he craved more than he craved blood. So he faltered. Like a coward, he stood there, unable to brush past you. To reject you. “I cannot dance with the others,” He told you, stiffly.

“So then dance with me!” You said, brightly. Your smile reminded him of the last sunrise that he had ever seen. The bright glow of it, eliminating everything that was dark and dreary on the landscape. And though his tongue poked at the fangs that were threatening to emerge in his mouth, though he felt the point craving your skin, he accepted, slipping his cold hand into yours. “It’s like touching a ghost, mister!” You exclaimed.

“I apologize,” He said, retreating, but you kept hold of his hand, holding it in both of yours now, trying to warm it up with your own body heat. He admired you for trying. Especially when you brought it up to your lips and blew your warm breath on it. Nothing would work. He knew that. But he thought for just a second that it might. “It is a condition, I’m afraid. There is nothing to be done.”

“Well, it was worth a try,” You said, still smiling, not allowing yourself to be discouraged. She let go with one hand so it was only one holding his own, fingers intertwined. “This is the part where you put your arm around my waist, sir.”

“It’s been a long time,” Louis admitted. He did occasionally dance with Lestat, the blonde haired brat prince, but he rarely took the lead in that one. Ever since he had met the vampire, he’d had the spiralling sense that he had no control over anything. And even though you were telling him what he should do, he was starting to feel a little ... bold? Like he could handle such a thing as a dance. He could be alright for just one, surely.

He moved his arm so that it was around your waist. He could feel the warmth of your blood through your clothing, you might as well have not been wearing any. Alone, secluded, a light breeze bringing the scent of your hair, of your skin to his nostrils. His mouth was watering at the closeness. It was so dark back here, he could have just a bite. And you tilted your head so perfectly, your neck all exposed...

“What’s your name, stranger?” You asked, snapping him out of his thirsty thoughts.

“Louis,” He said, slowly. He did not know at that moment that he would never again know a second’s peace. Your face would be plaguing his mind day after day, minute after minute, starting before he had ever known your name.

“A face like that should not be hiding away in a dark corner,” You said, pressing in close, chest to chest. The music was lively, and you were spinning with him, laughter echoing through his ears.

“Nor should yours,” He said back to you. Your laughter sounded like wind chimes in a breeze, enough to tickle the brain but not overpower his thoughts. He wished that it had - your blood was calling, calling - singing. He can’t take it anymore. The thirst is too overwhelming, it’s making his head spin. You gasped as he let go of you midspin, sending you flying into the chair that he had recently vacated, but he did not look back. Instead, he walked quickly through the other couples, disappearing in the blink of an eye into a dark alleyway, searching for rats or perhaps an alley-cat to quench his thirst.

You were the most alive person that he had encountered in a very long time, but you haunted him nonetheless. Every night at sundown, as he awoke inside of his tomb-like coffin, he grew restless, looking over at the door every few seconds. Fighting against himself, jittering, until he would finally take the steps and leave the house, returning to where he had met you. He did not sit in the shadows this time, but stood in them, dwelled within them, disappeared entirely into them, only a flicker of his bright eyes occasionally seen, and thought to be that of an animal prowling. You came out often here to dance, and to socialize. But what was more interesting to him was the fact that though others had sat in the seat you had once pulled them from, you did not ask them to dance. You seemed to stick to a small group of people, rarely if ever deviating from it.

Interesting.

On one rather chilly night, as the fall was turning to winter and the nights were getting longer in this humid city, he attempted to sneak out as he usually had, but was caught this time. Your hand was upon his arm, making him freeze in place. “Hello Louis,” You said, pleasantly. “I thought you had forgotten all about this place.”

Your smile was more radiant up close than it ever had been from afar. He found himself at a loss for words. His plumped lips tried to form an apology but his voice would just not project. You laughed, but it didn’t feel like it was at him. It broke the tension and he found himself smiling. Lestat would not have believed his eyes if he had seen it. “I apologize,” He said. You nodded, expecting that.

“Well, don’t sneak out without giving me a dance,” You coaxed, moving your hand down his arm to entwine your fingers together.

“Okay,” He said, simply, and gave your hand a squeeze. God, just that motion alone, bringing blood rushing through your veins, was enough to make him begin to salivate. But this time, he did not run, nor did he push you away. He danced with you, he spun you, he even dipped you once, making your head fall back, your neck all exposed. You were absolutely beautiful. More divine than anyone he had ever seen before.

He could not help himself. Better than the heartiest of perfumes, he could smell your blood as you came back in close. Your hair lightly blew towards him as the breeze came from behind, pushing it forward, forward, along with the scent. His lips were at your throat. You were giggling again, your shoulder raising. “You’re tickling me,” You said, lightly attempting to push it away. And he accepted it with horror, thinking of what he had nearly just done. He wanted to run again, wanted to find a cat, a dog, an elephant even, to quench his thirst. It would be so easy to break from your grip, physically easy. But he was finding it to be impossible as you caught him in your glance. “Are you going to run from me again?”

“Not this time.”

Eventually, Louis invited you to his home. The one that he had shared with Lestat. The more confidence and suave vampire didn’t affect you as much as he clearly would have liked to, since it seemed you only had eyes for the brunette with the sullen face. Over the course of the next couple of days, you spent quite a bit of time together. Courting, was how you had told your friends about it. But one night, things had gotten a little out of hand. You had been drinking wine together, and it was bringing a lot of blood to your face, tinting it ever so slightly in a deep red beneath your skin tone. His thirst had grown so immense that when he went in to give you a peck on the cheek, it did not end there. Your breathy moans made him both aroused and famished. And he could not help himself. His fangs extracted. They buried themselves into your skin.

The shock of it made you gasp, and you began to fall limp in his arms as he took more and more - only stopping once he realized what he was doing. You had fallen into his arms,a few ruby red drops coming from the new wounds in your throat. He checked on you, fingers on your pulse point - your heartbeat was still strong, and your eyes blinked back open. “What happened?” You asked, looking about you.

And he opened up, despite his fears, despite the secrecy that he knew that he had to live under for the rest of his existence. And you - incredible, incredible you, listened. You looked more cautious than fearful, fingers tapping at the pinpricks that were on your neck. He had not gone too far, nor too deep. You looked like you felt a little faint, but not too much worse than that. After seeing Lestat’s constant victims, he had feared the worst for you. “Are you alright?” He asked after he had finished his speech, the night coming to a close.

“Yes, just a little light-headed,” You admitted. “So, my love Louis-” If he had a heart still beating in his chest, he knew that it would have raced at just that sentence alone. At being called your love. “You need to take better care of yourself. You are going to live forever, you must stick with the upkeep.”

“That would require hurting people, killing people y/n. I cannot accept that.”

“Then accept me. Accept what you had just done to me and let me help you. It didn’t hurt as much as you think that it did. In fact...” You moved in closer to him. He became more scared of you in that moment than you were of him. You held all the power in your hands. He felt like he was the mere mortal one under your touch. Under the kiss that you pressed onto the corner of his lips. “It was pleasurable. And tomorrow night, I will come back, and you can do it again.”

“You can’t!” Louis protested. “I may lose control, I may hurt you. I would not be able to live with myself if I were to ever do anything like that to you. No, you cannot see me again-”

“If that is what you really want,” You said sadly, backing away, hands resting on your lap. “But I am willing to take the risk, for you.”

Over the next couple of months, you two saw one another regularly. He would bring you to the house at times when Lestat was out partying, or hunting, or doing whatever it was that Lestat did. You were his, and his alone. He didn’t want you getting caught up in that sadist’s schemes. He might attempt to change you, the way that he did with him. You became not only his cup, sipping just a tantalizing mouthful, but his lover as well. He began to fall in love.

His way of thinking became changed. Surely he could not be damned if he felt this way still. Surely he could not be a monster if he had your affection, your love. You reassured him of that the more that you saw him, stroking his pale cheeks. “You are an enigma, Mr. De Ponte Du Lac,” You would tell him. “A true angel in the flesh. My angel.”

And he would tell you the same things. “You have brought me back to life, mon amour,” He would whisper into your ear, before he would take that bite of your flesh.

And one of these days, perhaps, if he thought that you were ready for it, he may just offer you the gift of immortality, something that he never thought he would burden another person with. But it hardly seemed like a curse if you would be by his side.

#Louis de Pont Du Lac #Louis #louis de pont du lac oneshot #Interview with the Vampire #Interview with the Vampire oneshot #oneshot #one shot #oneshots #request

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erekiosuncreativeideas · 3 years

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Painfully Pointless (AHIT oneshot)

A birthday gift for @habijob, the creator of @queens-nightmare. (I'm so late, I should have posted the rest of the gifts way earlier hhhhHHH)

Summary : "A while ago, Snatcher had given the Queen the task to unfreeze everything, and of course she vehemently agreed. However, what he hadn’t planned was that she was also just as stubborn when it came to unfreeze the numerous corpse all around Subcon.

It wasn’t part of the original task, and the shade made sure she had understood that… But she kept telling him she wanted to do it. Although, unsurprisingly… She didn’t seem to want to be alone when doing it. Snatcher had an idea why: deep down, she must have realized how pointless it was too. However, denial was a powerful thing, just like hope was."

Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/32162935

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Snatcher knew it was pointless, and of course he had told Vanessa about that– but she hadn’t listened to him. Sure, she was determined, but while it all started with that, the ghost knew it would end in sobs and cries. Still, there they were, in front of the manor.

A while ago, Snatcher had given the Queen the task to unfreeze everything, and of course she vehemently agreed. However, what he hadn’t planned was that she was also just as stubborn when it came to unfreeze the numerous corpse all around Subcon. It wasn’t part of the original task, and the shade made sure she had understood that… But she kept telling him she wantedto do it. Although, unsurprisingly… She didn’t seem to want to be alone when doing it. Snatcher had an idea why: deep down, she must have realized how pointless it was too. However, denial was a powerful thing, just like hope was.

-“I already asked you that, but,” he paused, looking away with a frown that showed how conflicted he was about the whole thing: “Are you sure you want to do this?” he glanced back to the Vanessa, who nodded decidedly.

-“I have to,” was what she merely replied, before pushing the doors open. The ghost’s frown deepened as he followed her inside, his mind still full of terrible memories of this place. In any case, he kept his mouth shut. Without a word, she and Snatcher gathered all the statues in the same place: the entrance. Once they were done, the Queen moved closer to one of them.

Not a human’s, but a bushcat’s.

It was terrifying to think that all of these statues used to be alive, used to be actual people walking and talking… A long time ago, Snatcher had made sure to do his part in Subcon, unfreezing the children’s corpses and burying them respectfully.

And that was why he knew why Vanessa’s hopes in that regard were all pointless. Dead people never came back to life, and he knew that from experience. However, he hadn’t been that direct with Vanessa, which… Was a bit cruel, in its own way. Yet, he wasn’t sure if that would discourage her anyway. It hadn’t when he himself unfroze the poor children, and if she was as stubborn as he was…

Slowly, Vanessa knelt in front of the frozen bushcat and brought her trembling hands to it. She was hesitating, and the ghost was sure that she was afraid of what was going to happen. He wasn’t really surprised… He had been in her shoes years ago. But despite that, the woman took a deep breath, readying herself for what was to come. She closed her eyes and frowned, visibly focused on the task at hand. Soon enough, the ice started to melt and water drops fell to the wooden floor, staining it. It didn’t take so long for the Queen to unfreeze the poor animal, the texture of ice on her hands replaced by the soft touch of leaves… But as soon as said animal was free from its ice prison, it fell down to the side, unmoving and not breathing. Its eyes were lost into space and it was clear that life had been gone from this small and frail body for a very, verylong time.

A shocked gasp left the woman’s mouth as her mind was forced to realize that yes, it was too late, way too late. All of these statues, these people… They were dead. The only thing that was left of them was their fleshy, icy shell of a body.

Horror spread on the Queen’s features as she leaned closer, her hands shaking hard. She didn’t want to believe it, he knew that, he had been there too- but there wasn’t anything they could do anymore. Still, tears filled her eyes and she lightly touched the animal, sobs leaving her mouth as she muttered a series of “no, no, no, please, no…!”

The sight was a difficult one for Snatcher. It was like re-experiencing something he wished he could forget… But it was also hard to see Vanessa feeling so guilty over something she did while being controlled by a merciless entity. He wanted to tell her it wasn’t her fault- and it wasn’t, but he was aware that wouldn’t help. All of these ice statues… It was a chilling reminder of how dangerous her powers were and how deadly they had been to so many people, even if she hadn’t been herself when doing it. No matter what he’d say, she wouldn’t listen, just like she hadn’t when she decided to unfreeze everyone. And so… Without saying anything, he just put his hands over her shoulders, trying to comfort her the best way he could- but then, as if woken up from her trance, she span towards him and hugged him tightly. He could feel her icy tears touching him as she sobbed, crying and screaming how she was so sorry, how she wished she could just go back and avoid the freezing… The shade hugged her back, frowning more as he glared into space:

-“It wasn’t your fault,” he told her, patting her back as she cried against him: “you know that.”

-“I did this! It is my fault!” she protested, and he kept brushing her back. No words would help her to feel better in this moment. What she had witnessed had deeply shocked her, reminding her of the Subcon tragedy. And while she hadn’t caused the freezing out of her own free will… It wasn’t so surprising she blamed herself so much for it.

… While there was actually a person responsible for the murder of the villagers.

“I’m going to make him pay,” Snatcher thought with determination, holding Vanessa tighter: “I won’t let him hurt anyone.”

His eyes glanced back to Vanessa and his expression softened at the sight.

-“You can go outside if you want,” he offered, his voice a bit calmer: “I’ll take care of everything.”

He felt her shaking her head and, slowly, she stepped back, breaking the hug:

-“… No,” she retorted, her voice breaking from all of her crying: “I want to do this. I have to,” she insisted and Snatcher didn’t push the argument further. Maybe this was her way of coping… Though it was a very painful one, he had to admit that much.

One by one, she unfroze the statues, holding back her tears as she recognized the people she had known in the past. The ghost had offered to unfreeze some of them himself, “to be done with that whole thing faster”, but she had refused. Surely she had guessed this was his way of saying he could help, but it seemed like she was really determined on fixing what she had done years ago.

Well… Is this could be considered as “fixing“.

It took them a good hour to finish unfreezing everyone and soon, there were several rows of corpses on the floor, all lying down with their hands crossed over them. Vanessa remained silent for a moment and, before Snatcher could say anything, she crouched down next to each corpse, closing their eyes as gently as she could.

-“I’m sorry,” she whispered to them: “I’m really sorry,” before going to the next person and repeating the same words and gestures. The shade watched her without saying anything, knowing she was trying really hard to apologize for what she had done- but then again, it hadn’t been her fault. It was someone else’s.

When she was done, she stood up and took a few deep breaths, probably resisting the urge to cry again. The ghost hesitated, not really sure if he should say anything. After what seemed to be a few minutes of respectful silence, the Queen turned around and looked at him, tears still in her eyes:

-“Will you help me bury them?” she asked him softly. The answer was obvious and Snatcher nodded his head, floating closer to one of the corpses:

-“Yeah,” he murmured, picking up someone who used to be a servant of the Royal Family. He carried the person to the door and glanced back at the sorrowful woman: “We need to get them outside first.”

Vanessa nodded dutifully and picked the bushcat from earlier, the first being she had unfrozen. Holding it tightly against her chest, she joined the ghost and opened the doors, her face full of regrets and sadness.

-“Let’s do it,” she concluded before making the first step outside, one that was the continuation of her attempt at “fixing” things as much as she could given the irreversible circumstances. Then again… This was her way of coping.

A painful, pointless way of coping, but one nonetheless.

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sunflowersteves · 4 years

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he’s a beaut || b.b.

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 || every morning Bucky watches your whole makeup routine with complete fascination.

author’s note || I’ve had this idea for a while especially because Bucky was born in that era there’s no way he wouldn’t be discouraged from toxic masculinity. Also lmao this is the steps I do for makeup, oopsies! I really like this fic and I hope you all do too!

warnings || swearing, reference of toxic masculinity, pure fluff

m.list

Tony was hosting one of his big fancy parties. This time had been for successfully taking down a Hydra facility you’d been tracking down for about five months. You groaned as he explained: “A success for us is an excuse to party!” You just rolled your eyes but you knew you needed to attend. You kinda liked going to his parties (you would never admit that to Tony though).

You mostly didn’t want to go for Bucky’s sake. He hated those parties. So many people pushed up against each other, drunkenly laughing. He didn’t want people to talk to him. Especially the mean ones. Some were nice, chatting him up about the latest technologies and how he’s holding up from the 40s. Some, on the other hand, would snarl at how he shouldn’t be an Avenger and how he wasn’t a hero.

Those are the people that made him hate parties. And you wanted to crush their hearts in your hands but alas, they have to live.

So, you and Bucky were getting ready to make an appearance. You told him that it didn’t have to be for long but you wanted to be with the team. He sullenly obliged, “Only because I love you.” You poked your tongue out playfully and started to get ready. After putting on a gold cocktail dress, you decided to go ahead and put your makeup on. You sat down in front of your vanity and started to blend some foundation on your face with a damp beauty sponge.

Since Bucky was already done, he pulled up a chair and sat next to you. He did this every time you did your make up. He’d pull up a chair and just watch you excellently paint your face with nudes and bright colors.

After your foundation, contour, and blush, you proceeded to do your eyebrows followed by shaping them with concealer afterward. “Why do you do that?” Bucky suddenly asks. You paused, putting down the concealer brush. “So my eyebrows can look more symmetrical.” He nodded and then continued to watch you pick up a fluffy eyeshadow brush and packed it with a dark purple.

Bucky immediately leaned forward, watching you even more closely and intently. You raised an eyebrow but you kept going, blending the purple in the far corner of your crease. You then started to pack on a brighter purple which then made Bucky then make an “o” with his mouth. He looked so cute, all fascinated by your eyeshadow. Your lips curled into a bright smile as you started to blend the bright purple with the darker hues.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna try?” You motion towards the fluffy brush. He quickly shook his head.

“No.”

“And why’s that? You always watch me.”

“Men can’t wear makeup.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Yes, they can.” A frown was sketched onto his face and he tilted his head in confusion.

“Babe, it’s not normal. I’ve never seen a man in makeup.”

You lightly laughed. “Oh honey, I’ve seen many men wear makeup and they look damn good.” You pushed the eyebrow palette towards him. “Go ahead, pick a color.” He looked at you with furrowed eyebrows but nonetheless leaned towards you, looking at the palette. His lips twitched into a small smile and pointed at the hot pink.

You picked up the brush again, packed the product on, and started to blend the eyeshadow on his left eyelid. He fluttered his eyes closed and twitched at the foreign feeling. You smiled as you finished. “Do you want to see?” He nodded and you handed him one of your hand mirrors. He grinned graciously.

“Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Never be ashamed of wanting to do something ‘not assigned’ to your gender.” His eyes darted towards the ground. He looked as if he felt guilty which made your heart break into two. You lifted up his face by placing your fingers on his chin. You spoke as softly as you could. “Hey. it’s okay to like feminine things, okay? It’s okay to want to wear skirts. It’s okay to want long hair. It’s okay to like pinks and purples. And if you don’t like those things, that’s okay too. It’s okay to be you.” Tears pricked his eyes as he leaned towards you and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug.

You kissed his temple as he spoke. “Growing up in the 20s we were always told to dress a certain way and only like things like the color blue and cars and guns and football. But I always liked pink and dolls and ballet.” You nodded in understanding, still speaking softly. “Did you know that when I grew up I was a tomboy?” Bucky peppered feathery kisses all over your neck, “Tomboy?” You smiled at the sensation of his lips and caressed his cinnamon-fluffed hair with your fingers while you explained. “A tomboy is a girl that wants to look and have the characteristics of masculinity. I wanted those cars, guns, and footballs you were talking about earlier” You paused to leave a kiss on his cheek. “But I also found a love for feminine things as well. That’s why I quite dress differently all the time.”

You finished Bucky’s other eye and then the rest of your makeup routine. Before going downstairs to the party, you turned to him. “Do you want lip gloss?” He smiled and nodded. You twisted open your Wet Cherry lip gloss with a ‘pop’ and proceeded to put it on his plump lips. You then made him press his lips together to smooth the gloss out. You smiled brightly at him, teeth and all. “You look so pretty. I feel like I’m falling for you all over again.” Bucky blushed a deep red and stuttered at your statement. You giggled and took his hand leading him out of your shared bedroom to the elevator.

You pushed the floor number. Bucky was nervous. He had never shown any type of femininity like this. He felt vulnerable. You could tell Bucky was practically bouncing off the walls with anxiety so you laced your fingers with his and squeezed his hand. “Even if, for some stupid reason, people hate you for showing them who you are then I will personally murder all of them.” He laughed at your statement, the sound bouncing off the elevator walls. “Noted.”

You both walked out of the elevator as it reached the floor and sauntered out to the party. You saw the team all crowded around the bar so you both walked over there, hands still intertwined. “Hey, guys- Woah, Bucky! You look great!” Tony stood there in shock at Bucky’s hot pink shadow and glossy lips. Steve then clasped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “You look handsome, Buck.” Bucky thanked them and smiled dazzlingly at you.

Sam gasped as he took one look at Bucky. “Damn, Y/N, Barnes may be stealing your spotlight.” You laughed and the team continued to praise Barnes for his makeup.

“See? They love it! No one has to be murdered.” Bucky started to hysterically laugh with one hand on his stomach, keeping him stable.

Nat spoke up. “I’m sorry, murdered?”

#toxic masculinity #bucky in makeup #Bucky Barnes #bucky imagine #bucky barnes one shot #Winter Soldier #james buchanan barnes #bucky one shot #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #bucky barnes x reader #fluff #bucky fluff #pure fluff #tooth rotting fluff

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mashi-sims · 3 years

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Ranking AHW's S5 Episodes

I know that ranting about how bad some of the episodes this season were isn’t going to change the fact that they were, in fact, bad, but I still wanted to do an overview of this season in my opinion, and I love ranking stuff, so here it goes:

Also, I should mention that, yes, this is Cooliver biased, although I did take other plotlines into consideration, but mostly Cooliver. Also, lol, I could only add 10 photos so the #13, #12 and #11 don't get one, also they don't deserve it.

Tier 1: I wish they could be un-written, please.

13. 5x12 How Oliver Got His Groove Back

I’ll start with my least favorite episode, and the one we all wish we could unsee. This is the episode where Oliver is feeling down because the girl WE, THE AUDIENCE, just realized he liked, doesn’t like him back (which is a whole other thing), so Katie gets him a date with this girl that’s never been introduced in the show before. Oliver doesn’t want to see her, but he still does, and then he realizes she’s nice, and just like that, he’s happy again. I feel like this plot would not have been that bad if it hadn’t been so out of character, unexplained, and utterly designed to be filler for the season. Worst episode from my perspective, wouldn’t watch it again, barely watched it the first time, ugh, next-

12. 5x11 The Guardian

Same thing with this one, very uneventful episode that talks nonsense, introduces the idea of Oliver liking Lindsay and thinking they’d been dating, but nobody knew about it! How convenient! And again, doesn’t progress into anything, and it just feels out of character, forced, and like they didn’t even try to hide that it was a filler episode. Wouldn’t watch it again, I don’t even think about it, I’ve erased it from my mind. The only reason why this episode is ahead of 5x12 is because of Kathryn and Anna-Kat, and JD trying to find his egg donor, other than that, still pretty ugh.

Tier 2: Did the writers really look at their script and think; “ah, well done”?!

11. 5x07 Under Pressure

I kinda enjoyed this episode even if it didn’t include any Cooliver. I liked Anna-Kat’s storyline about not feeling her popularity and sticking to Franklin, I really really love these two together! So cute! Also, Taylor helping Oliver relax and not stress out that much was nice, although not amazing. Katie and Greg’s double date that led to a city council rivalry, I don’t care for it. Overall, I don’t know if this was intended to be a filler episode, but it totally felt like one to me; a nice episode but not one I’d watch again.

10. 5x05 Kids These Days

Eh, pretty uneventful. Katie wants Franklin and Anna-Kat to be more edgy and to take more risks, ends up in completely nothing. Oliver wants Boosterin and he accidentally drugs Greg, also ends up doing nothing for the storyline. The only thing I liked about this episode was seeing how Cooper cared about Oliver and how Oliver said “Your boy is doing both”, the Cooliver content was still good; other than that, eh. Also, the strange order in episodes this season really threw me off.

9. 5x04 Homeschool Sweet Homeschool

Nice episode, but not one of the best. Mommy blog, Cooliver moves to the basement, Andre shows up and it’s all weird now, eh. I enjoyed this episode because of the Cooliver’s interactions more than anything, but it’s not the greatest in my opinion.

Tier 3: *Sits down on the couch with popcorn and a blanket*

8. 5x06 Mother’s Little Helper

I also enjoyed Cooliver this episode. Although their drinking arc was pretty pointless and, again, ended up being nothing!!, I liked seeing them together, and that shaking they gave each other was funny. This is the episode where Tami was introduced, and I really liked her from the beginning, although I do wish they would’ve given Katie’s original second breakfast club some sort of closure so I wouldn’t feel so guilty about liking Tami and JD, eventually.

7. 5x02 Psych

This episode always made me feel stupid because I never understood what was going on with Taylor, why she didn’t take her gap year, why she never told Katie and Greg that she had gotten in, or at least make something out of it, why she decided to go to another college or if Greg got her in just so she didn’t have to take a gap year, bUT THEN I realized they didn’t actually talk about it, so I’m not the stupid one, I think.

Nevertheless, I really enjoyed this episode. I like Katie’s storyline of getting involved in other people’s lives after she sells her lasagna business (again, did they ever talk about that or am I stupid?)

This is the episode where we can see the change in Cooliver’s dynamic (a good thing), and the iconic line “stop bothering our boyfriends” saved my life. Having Taylor And Trip with Cooper and Oliver hanging out in the same frame is one of my favorite things and adds a few days to my life.

Franklin and Anna-Kat’s relationship also picks up in this season, and I really enjoy them in this episode. Also, Greg was very funny here, and I am grateful lol.

6. 5x08 Encourage, Discourage

I really liked how this was a Cooper-centered episode, really diving deep into his character instead of keeping him as a shallow side-character. By the way, how did Cooper get so much development and Oliver lost most of his? What was that? Anyway, Cooper saved this episode. I would’ve liked for Oliver to be a more supportive friend in this episode, but he was still there, at least.

Also, Cooper doesn’t think he’s too good for Oliver! Bless his heart.

5. 5x10 Getting Frank with The Ottos

I liked this episode very much! Again, Anna-Kat and Franklin melted my heart, but Oliver and Cooper squeezed it with Cooper’s realization of not wanting to go to Harvard, but Oliver eventually understanding and supporting him? Please, get married. Also, Oliver saying “We’re Cooliver”, and Trevor asking them if they were breaking up made my day. Could’ve been better and a bit more eventful, but it was good nonetheless.

4. 5x13 The Election

I really liked the finale, despite not having any Cooliver at all, the ending was pretty awesome, and I believe it really sets the tone for what could potentially be a great S6, that is if that’s actually happening AND if the writers stop it with the bullshit. Franklin and Anna-Kat getting engaged was very sweet, I adore them! Taylor and Trip getting really engaged was a bit cringe, but still adorable, and I love it! I just wish they had paid more attention to Oliver in this episode, but well, I guess his bang is not here yet and not every episode can be a banger. I hope that whatever comes next will be good enough that the wait will be worth it.

Tier 4: *Chef’s kiss, no pun intended*

3. 5x01 Graduation

Although this episode doesn’t really belong to this season, and it doesn’t share the same 〜vibe〜 with the rest of the episodes, since it has more of a S3-S4 energy, it’s still in S5 and I wanted to include it, too.

Not my favorite, but it’s one of the good ones imo. So much stuff happens in this episode that it almost feels cramped and overwhelming to me, with the graduation and the wedding, but I get that it was necessary to set the scene for S5 and close S4 even if it didn’t turn out the way they’d originally planned, and it came out fine considering the situation the producers were in, which can’t be said for every episode this season lol.

Taylor and Trip were adorable in this episode, Cooper was amazing, Oliver moping around was something I didn’t know I needed in my life, and Lonnie’s speech about not wanting his relationship with Greg to end, even if I never cared for his storyline, was really nice.

This episode made me think that S5 was headed toward amazing things, but not everything was good.

2. 5x09 The Heist

I love this episode because of Cooper’s development. Again, why couldn’t Oliver get that too? However, I did like how they made Oliver seem like he might’ve been a bit thirsty for his fellow Cooper over there, telling him multiple times that he’s good looking? Come on, tell us what you really mean.

Anyway, Cooliver really shone this episode, round of applause.

1. 5x03 Coupling

This episode is superior, bite me. I love everything about this episode, not only Cooliver. Katie and Greg trying to be supportive of their kids having sex with their boyfriends? Yes! Parallels between all four couples? Yes, please! Cooper and Oliver having their first married couple fight, Cooper feeling like he’s being replaced, but Oliver is doing it for the both of them and their future together? Yes! Masterpiece of an episode. I have no more to say.

Hands down, my favorite episode this season. Too bad mostly everything went downhill after that. I hope we do get a season 6 and that things pick up. This series deserves redemption, and Cooper and Oliver deserve to be happily in love together. Thank you.

#Cooliver #American Housewife #Oliver Otto #cooper bradford #cooper x oliver

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merakiaes · 4 years

Text

A New Beginning - James Conrad

Pairing: James Conrad x reader

Requested: @jessiejunebug

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: This is waaay too long to be proofread so apologies in advance for any possible mistakes, I also don’t remember what I’ve written so I don’t know if it’s any good😭 Hope you like it though.

Wordcount: 11217 (Yup, it’s a long boi)

Summary: When you board a ship to go on a geological research trip, you’re on your own. When James Conrad boards the same ship for the same reason, he’s on his own, too. But when the two of you walk down that very same ramp after having been through literal hell together, neither of you are alone anymore.

“Can you explain to me, again, in small words, why I’m being assigned to this mission?” You asked for the second time in the past five minutes, staring flatly at the two men sitting in front of you.

The younger of the two cleared his throat, folding his hands in front of him on the table. “From what we’ve read in your files-“

“My files?” You interrupted, raising an eyebrow, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest. “What files would those be?”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a brief moment in clear annoyance, before opening them again. “That doesn’t matter.” He said. “You’re exemplary intelligent and we need someone in your area of work to accompany us on this trip.”

You had to force yourself to keep back the laughter bubbling up in your throat, their growing frustration as you played with them all too amusing to you.

“A trip to an unexplored island in the Pacific Ocean, for geological research.” You replied in an amused tone, and they both nodded.

“That’s right.” The older one was the one to speak this time, confirming your unofficial question.

You let out an amused sound, leaning forward in your seat and clasping your hands in front of you on the table. “Okay.” You said, looking between them. “Let me walk you through all of the ways you could die-“

“No need.” The younger of the two interrupted you. “We’ve been lectured on the risks once already.”

You chuckled, leaning back into the chair. “Is that right?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow. “What did you say your names were again?”

“Bill Randa and Houston Brooks.” The older one, Randa, replied, and Brooks wasn’t far behind, obviously the more annoyed out of the two.

“Look, we’ve stalled long enough.” He stated, motioning for the stacks of money laying on the table. “Will you take the job or not?”

Your eyes flickered down at the green bills for a moment, but you quickly looked back up, giving them a deadpan look. “You know, I’d like to help you.” You said. “But I’m a little over-committed right now, I’m afraid.”

Your mood had switched from playful to, well, the opposite, in just a second, and Brooks wasted no time in pushing his chair back and standing up.

“Right. This was a waste of time.” He said, turning to his colleague. “Come on, Randa. Let’s go.”

Randa stood up, grabbing the money and putting it all back into his bag, and without another word, you watched them turn around and walk away from you, heading directly for the exit of the pub you were in.

You instantly turned your attention back to the drink in front of you, grabbing the glass and bringing it up to your lips to take a gulp.

When you put it back to the table, your friend slid into the seat next to you, giving you an unimpressed look. “Really, (Y/N)? You’re over-committed? To what? Being broke?” She asked, raising her eyebrows. “That was a pretty hefty stack of money they were offering you.”

Barely even sparing her a glance, you moved the tip of your finger along the rim of your glass casually. “It’s dangerous.” You replied simply, and listened as she scoffed beside you.

“Since when are you afraid of a little danger?” She asked. “You dive in unexplored caves and swim with sharks, for crying out loud. And you heard the man. They need you. They’ll probably die there if they go on their own.”

You turned your head to look at her slowly, watching her face grow serious.

“You need the money, (Y/N). You know no one will hire you.” She continued softly, reaching out to grab your hand in hers. “This could be your chance to get back on track.”

You could only sigh, bringing your hand up to pull it over your face in frustration. You didn’t like to admit it, but you knew she was right, so a few seconds later, you were up on your feet and rushing after Brooks and Randa, catching them just as they were about to get into their car outside.

“Wait!” You called out for them, watching as they both turned around to look at you.

You jogged up to them, nodding your head once you came to a stop in front of them. “I’ll take the job, if you throw in an extra five grand.”

Randa and Brooks exchanged a glance, before nodding. “Consider it done.” Randa said, turning to his partner. “Brooks, give her the paper.”

Brooks didn’t look the happiest that you had suddenly changed your mind, clearly annoyed with the way you had played their time away. But nonetheless, he reached into his bag and pulled out a piece of paper, holding it out for you.

“Be here tomorrow, at this time.” He said simply and you nodded, grabbing the paper from him and letting your eyes flicker over the address and time before moving them back up to look at him.

“I’ll be there.” You said, and shook their hands.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Randa smiled, and then they left, leaving you to go home and pack a bag in a hurry to be ready first thing in the morning.

Come nighttime the next day, you had been called to a briefing pretty much the same minute you stepped onto the ship, during which the scientists presented you with the purpose of the trip and the soldiers let you know how everything was going to go down.

When it came to the scientists, you immediately got the feeling that they weren’t giving you the entire story, but you didn’t get much time to sneak around and get any answers, as you were barely able to keep your eyes open when the meeting was done.

And the next morning, you didn’t get the chance either, as you were joined on deck by the soldiers of the Sky Devils the same second you set foot on deck, all of whom were very interested in your background; most so of all Reg Slivko who you had overheard making a bet with his fellow soldiers that he could woo you.

In any other case, you for sure would’ve had your fun, but right now, you weren’t there to play around.

“Where are you from?”

“Here and there.”

“What do you do?”

“This and that.”

“You ever-?”

“Now and then.”

Most of your answers were short, and for every reply the young soldier grew more and more discouraged, but he didn’t give up, and as you didn’t have the time nor patience to deal with him, your annoyance was growing by the second.

“Why are you here?” He attempted to ask again, and this time, you looked up from the geology book you were reading to look at him with a sigh.

“Because I can do things they can’t.” You replied simply, and he gave you a goofy smile, one that made the corner of your lips twitch upward slightly.

“Like what?” He questioned, and you raised your eyebrows at him playfully.

“Mind my own business, for one.”

He chuckled. “Boy, you’re just full of information, aren’t you?” He asked and you chuckled along, closing the book and standing up from where you were sitting at the edge of the ship, walking up to him and patting his cheek.

“Or maybe I’m just not interested.” You said, watching in amusement as his smile fell and his fellow soldiers broke into laughter behind him.

You left him at that, turning around and heading in the opposite direction. Luckily, he didn’t follow or bother you any further, instead getting distracted by Mason as she came over and began taking pictures of them.

Above you, you could just barely make out the tracker that had been hired to come along on the expedition, leaning against the railing and looking out over the platform of the ship.

Feeling your stare, his eyes flickered down to meet yours, and he adjusted his stance at that, grabbing a hold of the railing in front of him and straightening his back.

Without looking away from him, you moved toward the metal stairs to the side, only breaking your gaze when the wall came in the way of your line of sight.

You reached the top where he was standing in no time, the winds significantly harsher up there, pulling at your hair and shirt.

The tracker’s eyes were already on you when you appeared at the top of the stairs, looking at you sideways with his forearms still leaned on the metal rail.

You had seen him briefly during the briefing the night before but only now that you got a real look at him in the afternoon sun did you realize how incredibly good-looking he was. Almost inhumanly so, with cheekbones so sharp they could cut you and eyes as green as emeralds.

While you looked him over, he did the same to you, and once your eyes met each other’s again, you nodded to where he was standing, raising an eyebrow.

“Mind if I join you?” You asked, and watched as he simply took a step to the side, making room for you next to him.

As you joined his side, you looked down to the platform where you had just been, to find that they were now fooling around to music, passing beers around and posing in front of Mason’s camera, all but one soldier who was getting his hair cut.

But the man next to you wasn’t watching the soldiers, but rather the scientists standing on the other side of the platform looking over a giant map and talking among themselves.

“You don’t trust them either, do you?” You asked, taking note of his hard eyes and the tense muscles in his jaw.

When hearing you speak, his eyebrows shot up, but his eyes didn’t move away from the scientists below.

“Doesn’t matter if I do.” He replied. “They wouldn’t stand a chance if they went against me. And the list of hazards that could kill them out there without me there to guide them is too long for them to ignore.”

You raised an eyebrow, your eyes flickering away from the scientists to look at the profile of his face instead, a playful expression crossing over your face. “Awfully confident, aren’t you?” You asked, and watched as the corners of his lips twitched ever so slightly.

“I can kill every person on this ship before most of them have a chance to get to their feet. Skills like that do wonders for a person’s self-confidence.” He replied simply, and you chuckled.

“Fair point.” You said, pushing your underarms off the rail and turning your body completely in his direction, sticking your hand out in front of you. “I’m (Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

His gaze left the scientist in just a second, flickering over to meet yours with a smile on his lips. “James Conrad. Pleasure.” He answered, taking your hand in his and giving it a firm, but at the same time soft, handshake.

“Likewise.” You returned the smile.

“So what is it you do?” He asked. “Other than mind your own business, that is.”

“You heard that?” You chuckled, raising a teasing eyebrow and playfully narrowing your eyes. “Were you spying on me, Mr. Conrad?”

He chuckled right back, leaning against the rail. “I wouldn’t call it spying.” He said. “Just listening in.”

“You must have pretty good hearing if you were able to hear us all the way from up here.” You gave him another playful look, one that he returned with an identical one.

“Or maybe you’re all just really loud.”

Another chuckle left your lips, and your eyes flickered away from him to look down at the platform again. “Maybe.” You replied softly, completely oblivious to his eyes still watching you.

“So, are you going to tell me what it is you do, or are you going to make me guess?” He asked again, and you hummed.

“Biologist, geomorphologist, geologist, physicist, ecologist, speleologist, sonar technologist. Take your pick.”

“How old did you say you were again?” He asked, and at that, you turned to look at him again, smiling.

“Twenty-eight.” You shrugged. “I learn quickly.”

“Clearly.” He replied, his eyebrows raising in an impressed manner. “So which one of those are you here for?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. They won’t tell me smack, just that they’re in need of my expertise. They won’t specify in which branch.”

“No, they’re not giving us an awful lot of information to go on, are they?”

“You can say that again.” You scoffed, letting your eyes flicker over to the scientists again. “You’re not buying their story about this being a geological research trip either, are you?”

The smile fell from his lips, his face turning serious again. “If it were true, they wouldn’t be dropping bombs.” He replied lowly, following your line of gaze. “They’re hiding something. I just haven’t figured out what yet.”

Humming, you watched with him as Randa finally felt your stares and turned around, looking caught off guard to a start and then raising his hand in a wave.

You waved back, plastering on fake smiles.

“I have a feeling we will.” You replied simply through your teeth as to not drop the smile, not being able to shake the suspicion that they were trying to wake something up.

Randa and Brooks were both way too adamant in making the mission happen for it to just be a trip to map out an unexplored island.

And you got your suspicions proven right when, come the next day, the bombs were dropped and did, in fact, wake something up; more specifically a giant fucking monkey, something you would’ve been very excited to discover in any other case, but not so much when said monkey was attacking the choppers.

One after one, they went crashing into the trees and to the ground at the giant hand of the monkey.

You didn’t blame him for reacting like he did. Anyone would get defensive if strangers just appeared and started dropping bombs in your territory, but you weren’t able to think of that at that moment; all you could think about was that your chopper was going to go down just like the rest of them sooner than later, and you weren’t the only one realizing that.

“Pull out now! Pull out!” James was screaming at Slivko over the loud wind and even louder sounds of the propellers above you, struggling to hold on just like the rest of you.

But Slivko was being his hardheaded self, looking back at the tracker with a stubborn glare. “I don’t take orders from you!”

You weren’t sure if it was his stubbornness in general or the fact that you were about to die that made you snap, but the second those words passed his lips, you whipped around in your seat next to James to glare at him.

“No? Well, I wonder which will get you killed faster, your loyalty or your stubbornness?!” You yelled back, your glare only hardening when he barely even spared you a glance.

Instead, he simply turned back around, and your anger quickly malted off, being replaced by panic.

Squeezing your eyes shut as tightly as you possibly could, you held on to your seatbelt, your chest rising and falling rapidly. “Oh my God, we’re gonna die.” You whispered to yourself. “We’re gonna die. We’re gonna die.”

“Hey, hey! Look at me!” The voice of James suddenly came from beside you, followed by a pair of hands on your cheeks.

Your eyes shot open, wide with stress and fear, to look into his warm, comforting ones.

“Now is not the right time to panic!” He told you, his voice rising to be able to overpower the loud noises. “You’re going to be just fine, alright? You’re going to be fine!”

“I’m going to be fine…” You whispered back and he nodded, agreeing with you.

For a moment, just for a moment, you began calming down, the sounds around you drowning away as you got lost in his stare of distraction, but the momentary calm was gone just as quickly as it got there, when James’ head suddenly whipped away from yours and his hands leaving your face to lean into the front.

“Watch out!” He called, and before you even had the time to process anything else, you could hear something crashing into the windshield, the chopper jerking violently as a result.

“Oh, God! Prepare to crash!”

The sound of Slivko’s words was enough to send you into a full panic again, your throat thickening and your chest tightening up, your heart feeling about ready to beat out of your chest. “Oh, shit, shit, shit.”

Mason was screaming from across of you, trying her hardest to hold on as your chopper lost altitude, but it was clear she wasn’t the one truly panicking.

James hurried to strap himself in beside you, before once again twisting his body in your direction to take your face in his hands. “Hey, hey!” He called out for a second time, gently slapping your cheek to get your attention when you didn’t respond.

When you looked up at him and into his eyes once again, he gave you a questioning gaze. “Do you trust me?” He asked, and your face instantly pulled into a confused and semi-annoyed expression.

“What? I- I don’t know.” You stuttered out.

“Do you trust me?” He asked again and you closed your eyes for a moment, processing the feeling of his warm hands on your wind-chilled cheeks.

After a few seconds, you opened them again. “Yes. Yes.” You corrected yourself, and he nodded.

“Okay, then just hold on to me.” He instructed, and only then, when he looked away from you again, did you come back to reality, just as he called out from beside you.

“Brace!”

He pulled you into his arms and you squeezed your eyes shut, holding onto him with all your might and pressing your face into his sturdy chest.

A few seconds passed of the chopper violently jerking from side to side, from left to right and then back again, with big leaves slapping into the open side of the flying vessel as you crashed through the tops of the trees.

Your head was safely tucked in under James’ chin and his arms were squeezing you so hard you would’ve lost your breath if you’d had one in the first place, but you found yourself unable to breathe, the panic swelling in your chest blocking your airways.

Luckily, it was all over quickly. Not so luckily, however, was the fashion of your landing, the chopper meeting with the ground roughly and causing everything to go dark.

But you weren’t out for a long time, coming back to your senses around the same time as everyone else by the looks of it.

When you tried to stretch your body, a groan left your lips as you realized you were uncomfortably stuck under a heavy piece of metal that had come loose as a result of the crash.

In turn, James heard your sound of discomfort and wasted no time in crawling over to you, leaving the others to get themselves out of the chopper as they weren’t stuck.

“Are you alright?” He asked, crouching down beside you and searching for your gaze.

Your eyes met for the briefest of moments, but you quickly averted them and moved them back to the metal rod when a sharp pain shot through your ankle, an aggressive jab in your head not being far behind.

You hissed, at the feeling, bringing your hand up to your head. “Apart from being trapped under here, and maybe suffering from broken bones, and a headache beyond what I’m capable of handling… I’m dandy.”

Glancing to the side to steal a glance of his face, you watched as it lit up in a small but sincere smile. “Good to see that almost dying haven’t killed your sense of humor.” He replied.

“Never.” You fired back quickly, offering him a sarcastic and very strained smile.

You brought your hand back down from your head when feeling the sudden stickiness on your fingers, realizing when they came into your field of view that they were now covered in bright red blood.

Momentarily distracted both by the sight of the blood and the feeling of your pulsating head, you barely even noticed James moving away from your side and positioning himself down by your foot, until you felt him gingerly place his hand on your knee.

Your eyes flickered over to him where he was now standing below you, his hands resting on the piece of metal. “I’m going to lift this up now, are you ready?” He asked, and you wasted no time in nodding.

“Alright.” He mumbled, moving his eyes away from yours to focus on his hands. “One, two, three.” He counted, and on three, used all of his strength to lift the heavy piece of metal, just enough for you to be able to pull your leg out.

Once he saw you were out, he dropped it back down and wasted no time in coming up to you to help you up, holding you steady while you tried balancing on your hurt foot.

“Can you walk?” He asked from above you, and after a few failed attempts, you finally managed to stand on your foot, nodding your head, looking up at him.

“Yeah.” You breathed out. “Thanks.”

He met you with a worried frown as his eyes flickered up to your head, keeping his hold on you with one of his hands and reaching the other into the pocket of his pants to pull out a handkerchief.

You stood there quietly, letting him press the soft fabric to the line of your hair, barely even wincing at the stinging sensation.

You didn’t know if it was just the lightheadedness ridding you of your common sense and playing a trick on you, or if the increase of your heartbeat when he touched you in a way so soft, like no one had done before him, was actually genuine, but whatever it was, you pulled yourself out of your daze rather quickly, suddenly getting defensive.

He was, no doubt, surprised by your sudden movements when you quickly reached up to take the handkerchief from his hand to press it to your head by yourself, then proceeding to step away from him and avert your gaze to the forest floor.

But he said nothing about it, knowing that you were all probably shook up right now.

“It’s nothing too severe but put pressure on it for a while. Just to be safe. I’m gonna go scope the area out. I’ll be right back.” He told you lowly, and you simply nodded, keeping your eyes on anything but him.

As he walked away, you moved back over to the crashed chopper, crawling into it on your knees in search of your backpack.

Rather coincidentally, you found it laying right in the middle, looking to be completely untouched, as if it hadn’t just been in a life-threatening crash.

When you came back out of the chopper, the strap of your bag now hanging from your hand, you found Slivko pacing back and forth in a frantic manner, a phone held to his ear and a radio held in his arms while Mason and Nieves kept to themselves, the former looking through her bag and checking over her camera while the latter was simply trying to regain his composure.

“Calling all units. Is anybody airborne? I repeat, is anybody airborne?” Slivko spoke into the phone, but you paid him no mind, going over to the small stream of water in the middle of the clearing and crouching down.

You instantly flinched when doing so, pressure being put on your foot and causing the pain to radiate all the way up your leg.

To relieve the pain, you sat down fully, putting your bag down to the side and dipping your hand into the cold water to clean it free from blood, doing the same to the handkerchief to give it some moisture.

The fabric was already soft like it was, but even then the dry material was rough against the open wound on your head, and the cold moisture would without a doubt make it better; something you got confirmed when you put it back to your forehead.

You stayed there on the ground, catching your breath and trying to get your head to stop spinning, until James appeared from the treeline and walked back into the clearing.

“They're all down. Every one of them.” He said the second he got close enough.

Your eyes had found his form the second he had appeared from the forest, but the others didn’t turn to look at him until they heard his voice.

When seeing he had everyone’s attention, he stopped, turning his body and pointing into the forest. “We're on the south side of the island. There's a river a couple of klicks from here. If we stick to its banks, we'll make it to the exfil site on the north shore.”

“And then what?” Nieves asked, throwing his arms out in exasperation. “All our choppers are down.”

James turned to him and gave him a look. “We'll find a way to signal the ship. They'll send a search party.” He said. “We just have to make it by the exit window.”

Nieves could only sigh and turn back around, plopping down on a tree trunk and looking out into the distance. “I should be sitting at a desk.” He whispered, and you would’ve found the look on his face awfully amusing, had you been in any other situation.

“So, wait, are we just not gonna talk about this?” Slivko suddenly joined in on the conversation, striding back into the clearing with his radio still in his arms.

Again, just like he had done Nieves, James did nothing but meet him with a stare. “My best guess is we're scattered over a four to five-mile radius. We should head north and join anyone we find.”

Slivko pulled a hand over his head, looking around, and James turned to Mason who was standing still in her spot, asking her: “Are you all right?”

Mason let out a dry, nervous laugh, shaking her head. “I don't know how to answer that question right now.”

“I don't know what that was either.” James answered, and Mason raised her eyebrows at him.

“All that money that they paid the two of you?” She said, her head peeking around his form to look at you to where you were sitting, before turning back to James with a tense smile. “I hope you're both worth it.”

She grabbed her bag and walked around him without another word, and again, James wasted no time in coming over to you where you sat.

Your eyes followed his every move, until he was standing right above you.

“Need a hand?” He asked, offering his hand, and you wordlessly took it, allowing him to help you back up to your feet.

You stumbled for a small moment, but you managed to stay on your feet, letting go of his hand and turning around to pick up your bag.

James, however, was quicker than you, coming around you and picking it up before you got the chance to do so yourself.

“I got it.” He said, and you wasted no time in shaking your head.

“No, it’s okay.”

“Please, I insist.” He fought back, already bringing the strap over his shoulder to carry and giving you a sincere look. “The last thing you need is extra weight to carry.”

You held his stare for a moment, but found no reason to fight back as you knew he was right, simply letting out a small breath and nodding your head. “Thanks.”

He flashed you a tight-lipped smile, before walking back to the others, leaving you to follow. Without another word, he began walking in the direction he had pointed earlier, and none of you were far behind.

Nieves went first, Mason and yourself side by side after him, and Slivko trailed behind you, still carrying the radio. “We're really not gonna talk about it? You know this is not normal, right? Stuff like that doesn't just happen!”

All of you ignored him, until eventually, Mason got annoyed and told him to be quiet when he had been complaining for ten minutes straight.

Thirty minutes into walking, you stumbled across a giant water buffalo hiding in a lake, which, if James hadn’t been there to stop him, Slivko would’ve shot dead on the spot in his momentary state of shock-madness.

After that, you kind of lost track of time, the four of you just following James as he led you through the thick and humid rain forest.

Eventually, you ended up in the front beside him, but neither of you said anything for a long time, James simply keeping an eye and ear out for possible dangers while you focused on your feet, not wanting to stumble and hurt your ankle even more.

It was only when you reached a downhill that James finally came to a stop, turning to you while the others walked ahead, now with Slivko in the lead.

“Careful. The ground is uneven.” He warned you, offering you his hand.

Annoyed by the heat, humidity and the entire situation in general, you ignored his hand, beginning to walk down on your own. “I’m fine.” You muttered, and as if on cue, your foot got caught in a tree root, causing your knees to give out under you.

A surprised yelp left your lips and your eyes widened, but luckily, James was right there by your side to catch you, his hand winding around your waist to hold you upright.

Your chest heaved up and down in a rapid motion and you clung to his side, feeling the rumble of his chest under your hand as he chuckled. “What did I tell you?” He said, and you grumbled, this time allowing him to help you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, turning serious and again, you grumbled in response.

“Yeah.” You answered simply, still clinging to his side and more or less being carried down the uneven hill.

“Good. Let me know if you need a break, and stay close to me.” He instructed, and you raised an eyebrow at the irony of his words; as if you could do anything else than that with the way his hand never left your waist.

But he didn’t even seem to notice, and at this point you couldn’t keep denying the fact that you needed the extra support in order to be able to stand on your hurt foot, so you let it slide, eventually getting so used to it you didn’t even think about it.

Not a long time later, you met up with Brooks and San, and only a while after that, you found yourself at spear-point of a dozen island natives.

For some reason, having a spear pointed at your head wasn’t half as scary as being in a helicopter crash, so you managed to keep your cool, unlike the scientists who were all whipping their guns back and forth in panic the entire time.

Luckily, “Lieutenant Hank Marlow of the 45th Pursuit Squadron of the 15th” to quote the man in question, showed up before anyone could get hurt, introducing himself with such enthusiasm you couldn’t help but feel second-hand happiness.

That was around five minutes ago, and you were currently on your way back to their village.

James had left your side to walk alongside Marlow, leaving you in the back with Slivko, Mason and, after a lot of protests from James who had insisted to keep carrying it, your bag, through which you were currently looking for something to eat.

Mason quickly claimed a granola bar when you presented it to her, and after that, you also brought out an apple and a banana.

Biting into the apple to free your hand, you closed the bag up and heaved it back up on your shoulder.

You then took a bite out of the apple and lowered it from your mouth. “Slivko.” You called out, holding up the banana when he turned to look at you.

“Uh, no thank you. I don’t eat bananas.” His face instantly turned into a semi-disgusted scowl, and you raised an eyebrow at the strong reaction.

Before you could question it, however, Mason beat you to it. “Are you allergic?” She asked, and both of you watched as he gave you a deadpan look.

“No, they’re radioactive.” He replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

In front of you, Marlow let out a loud laugh, now having tuned in on your conversation. “What? That’s ridiculous. Are you stupid?” He asked, and a deeply offended look instantly crossed over Slivko’s face.

You had to refrain from laughing, taking another bite of your apple to hide your smile and swallowing it before speaking.

“He’s not wrong. Bananas contain potassium and since potassium decays, that makes them slightly radioactive.”

“See?” Slivko raised his eyebrows at the old, stranded soldier, whose smile fell while a smug grin stretched out over the younger soldier’s lips.

You chuckled at the pair, shaking your head. “But to die from radiation poisoning you’d have to eat about ten million bananas at once.” You continued, and this time it was Slivko’s turn to lose his smile.

He turned to you, giving you a doubtful look. “Are you sure?” He asked. “Because-“

“How many cases in which someone has died of banana radiation poisoning have you heard of?” You interrupted him, raising an eyebrow. When receiving no answer, you gave him a nod and a small smirk. “Exactly.”

His eye narrowed and for a moment, he stilled in his walk, before marching up to your side and snatching the still outstretched banana from your hand.

“Fine. Give me that.” He said as he did so, unpeeling it and taking a bite before turning back to look at you again. “You’re a Know-It-All, you know.” He accused, and you simply raised your eyebrows.

“Is that meant to insult me?” You asked. “How do you think I got all of my degrees? By sitting silently at the back of the classroom and not participating?”

You gave him one last playful look, before speeding up to join the front of the group, ending up talking to Marlow the entire rest of the way.

He was very talkative, at least in comparison to the people you were used to, but right now, that’s exactly what you needed; first of all to distract you from the pain that was only getting worse the more you walked, but also from the flutter of butterflies that would erupt in your stomach and chest every time James would slow down to ask how you were doing, which was a lot.

You reached your destination after a long while of walking, when the sun was just beginning to set, and Marlow wasted no time in telling you about Kong and the Skull Crawlers, along with presenting you with his late friend’s plane that they had re-built into a boat back when he had still been alive.

Slivko followed him without a second thought, wasting no time in beginning to brag about his mechanical skills, but Mason and yourself lingered by the Iwi in the distance.

You were inspecting them in a discrete manner, wondering how in the hell they were able to stand so still, and that’s when you saw it; something that instantly sparked your interest and caused the kind of excitement only a scientist could feel to fill your entire body.

“No, it can’t be.” You mumbled to yourself, taking a small step closer and squinting your eyes to better be able to see the particular Iwi you had set your eyes on.

When seeing it wasn’t just a trick of the light, you turned to Marlow who was now walking back past you. “Can I go up to them?” You asked, motioning to the Iwi. “Or will they feel threatened?”

“Oh, sure. Go ahead.” He casually waved his hand. “They’re a peaceful people. They won’t hurt you unless you hurt them first.”

Your lips lit up in a smile. “Great, thanks.” You hurried out, before turning to the other woman beside you and holding your hand out. “Mason, can I borrow your camera?”

She gave you a strange look. “Uh, sure.” She said, removing the strap from around her neck and dropping the camera in your open hand.

You wasted no time in setting the right settings in, all while walking in the direction of your targeted Iwi, Mason trailing behind you to count for her camera’s safety.

When you stopped in front of the Iwi and raised the camera into her face, Mason squinted her eyes just like you had a few moments before. “What is that?” She wondered, coming closer.

The Iwi didn’t even bat an eye when you more or less shoved the camera into her face, zooming in on her left eye.

“Pupula Duplex, or Polycoria.” You answered. “It’s an extremely rare condition in which the victim has two irises and two pupils. It's so rare, in fact, that some believe that it is just a myth. Fascinating.”

Mason hummed beside you and you briefly lowered the camera down to be able to inspect the picture you had just taken that.

When doing so, you noticed James coming up behind you, and wasted no time in holding the camera up for him to see. “James. Come look at this.” You said, just as he joined your side.

You didn’t even notice you had called him by his first name, and either he didn’t either, or he just didn’t care, looking down at the camera and then up at the Iwi without even mentioning it.

“That is fascinating.” He agreed, having heard your earlier words, and you zoomed in on the picture.

“Isn’t it?” You replied, raising the camera again, motioning for the Iwi to open her eyes wide and she did as told, allowing you to take another, cleared picture.

“Oh, yeah. It’s cool, isn’t it?” Marlow joined in on the conversation, walking up to you and pointing to his own eye. “She’s had it since she was born. There are a few others who have it too.”

“Really?” You whipped around to face him. “Can you show me? I need to document this.”

He flashed you a big smile, nodding his head. “Sure thing, come on.” He said, and you wasted no time in following him, Mason, again, trailing after you, not wanting to leave her camera alone.

Slivko called James back to the boat a second later and he didn’t waste any time, keeping a watchful eye in your direction where you were enthusiastically talking about something, without a doubt about the condition you were currently so excited to discover.

Night fell and all of the Iwi returned inside, along with you, one by one, and soon enough, all but James was in the room Marlow and his late friend had made to be their own during their stay there.

Nieves was sitting by himself and so was Mason, the former just staring into a wall and the latter flicking through a book.

San and Brooks were talking quietly among themselves and Slivko was touching everything he could get his hands on, this currently being a spear that he was walking around the room with.

He was conversing with Marlow, but you couldn’t be bothered to listen in, too distracted by the beautiful Northern Lights swirling around in the night sky, lighting up the landscape outside the window.

In your hand, you were fiddling with an unlit, slightly crooked cigarette, and your other hand was tucked in under your arm, your back leaning against the edge of the opening you were currently standing in front of.

“How’s your foot?” A voice suddenly spoke from beside you, and only then did you notice that James had now joined you in the room.

You had been so lost in thought that you hadn’t even noticed him walk right up to you, hence your eyes widening in surprise at the sound of his voice.

But you quickly regained your composure, lifting your foot slightly, for him to see that it was now wrapped up.

“It’s all good.” You answered with a small smile. “The Iwi gave me some kind of root for the pain and swelling. I couldn’t identify it and neither them nor Marlow was to any help so I took a sample with me to test when we get back to the ship.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” He returned your smile, and you nodded, widening your smile just a little bit.

Silence fell over you for a short moment, neither of you knowing what to say, but then he stepped up to the window, pointing towards the sky and by doing so causing you to look back outside, too.

“Isn’t it odd the most dangerous places are always the most beautiful?” He asked and you hummed, again finding yourself unable to look away.

“I was going to have a cigarette but I’m all out of matches.” You chuckled, looking away only briefly to show him the defected stick of tobacco between your fingers.

“Oh.” He said, his eyebrows creasing together as he reached into his pocket. “Try this.” He continued, holding out a small metal lighter and flicking the lid up to expose a flame.

You wasted no time in reaching out and taking it from him once he had let the lid fall back shut, your smile now wider than ever. “Thank you.”

After putting the cigarette between your lips, you brought the lighter up and lit the end, making sure it got lit before closing the lighter again.

You were about to hand it back, but stopped yourself to inspect the worn-out letters printed at the side, your eye flickering up to meet his.

“Royal Air Force?” You asked once you had brought the cigarette down from your lips, tilting your head with interest.

You watched as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants, his eyes stuck to the lighter that was still clutched in your hand.

“It was my father’s.” He told you quietly, a slight crease being created between his eyebrows. “He threw it to me from the train as he rolled off to fight the Nazis. He was like John Wayne to me. Some kind of mythic hero.”

Your face grew serious, your head nodding as you blew out the smoke of the drag you had just taken. “Did he come back?” You asked, meeting his eyes when he looked back up.

“His plane went down near Hamburg. They searched for him for months but…” He paused, turning away from you to look up at the sky. “I suppose no man comes home from war. Not really.”

You watched the profile of his face sadly, taking in the way the Northern Lights reflected in his green eyes. “He would’ve been proud of you. I hope you know that.”

You had barely even been able to process the words you were going to say before they slipped past your lips, but still wasn’t fazed, as they seemed to have done more good than harm like you’d hoped, judging by the soft look overtaking his face when he turned to look at you again.

“Thank you.” He told you, to which you smiled. “What about you?” He continued then, and you raised an eyebrow.

“What about me?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back on the edge of the opening and turning his body in your direction. “Do you have any family? Or is it just you?” He clarified his question.

You turned your head away from him, taking a final drag of your cigarette and holding your breath while you dropped it to the floor and stomped it out.

“I have a brother.” You answered as you released your breath and the smoke with it, turning your head back to look at him.

“Younger or older?”

“Six years older.” You replied, crossing your arms over your chest to match his stance, once again turning to look up into the sky when seeing the expecting look on his face, asking you to go on.

“Our mom got pregnant with my brother at fifteen and she kept him. When she gave birth to me, however, she suddenly decided she wasn’t ready to have children, dropped us both off at the stairs of a catholic orphanage. We got tossed around the system our entire lives, but not together. My brother only found me again when he turned eighteen and could go off and make a living on his own. I’d been placed in a total of eleven family homes at that point, but I just landed right back in the orphanage every time. I was a bit of an ass as a child, so no one wanted to keep me.” You chuckled to yourself. “But my brother wanted me back, even though I didn’t even remember him. And the nuns wanted me out of their hair so they signed the papers quicker than I’ve ever seen anyone sign anything before.”

You took a pause, reminiscing in the memories of your life, before turning to look at him with a small smile. “He raised me on his own, worked his ass off every day to provide for me, all while studying and chasing his dream of becoming a cave explorer.” You continued. “When I reached my later teenage years, I started working too, and when I eventually picked my studies back up, we realized that I was quite a Brainiac. I had several degrees by the time I was twenty and with the job offers pouring in on me, my brother could finally stop providing for me, take a break and go after his dreams. And I tagged along with him too, when I wasn’t working or studying.”

James matched your smile with one of his own, nodding his head once you were finished. “Sounds like you’ve had quite adventurous life.” He commented. “And he sounds like a good man. Your brother.”

“He is. Better than others, at least.” You shrugged. “Neither of us ever knew our fathers. Deadbeats. Both of them.”

“So you’re only half-siblings.”

“On paper? Yes.” You confirmed, then shaking your head. “But in heart? No.”

“That must be nice.” He smiled, and you leaned your head back against the wall behind you.

“Yeah, it is.”

He inspected you softly. “Do you have anyone else waiting for you back home? Other than your brother, I mean.”

“Are you asking if I’m romantically involved with anyone?” You asked playfully, raising an eyebrow.

In return, he chuckled, but not once did his gaze waver from yours. “Yes, I guess I am.”

You chuckled with him, shaking your head again. “No, it’s just us now. But-“ You paused, raising your eyebrows and holding up a finger. “I used to be engaged.”

“Used to?” His eyebrows shot up, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Mm. It didn’t work out.” You mused.

His interest was clearly piqued now, his body turning just slightly more your way to signify that he was completely involved in the conversation at hand.

“What happened?” He asked, crossing his feet and getting comfortable against the hard stone wall.

“My knight in shining armor turned out to be a loser in aluminum foil. A criminal, more specifically.” You replied, plastering on a sarcastic smile. “He was a dealer, in the art business. I’d never done as much as shoplift a piece of gum before I met him, but the more attached I got to him, the more I was willing to risk.”

You paused, wrapping your arms around yourself to provide your bare arms with some heat in contrast to the chilly air surrounding you.

“When someone got interested in a piece, I’d pose as another buyer and drive up the price. But one day, he asked me to pose as the seller, not the buyer. One signature, half a million dollars. He said it was simple. I’d hand them the documents and they’d slide me a check.” You continued. “The whole thing would take a couple of minutes tops. And he was right, it all happened very quickly. The buyers turned out to be undercover cops and with my signature being the one signed on the documents, I was the one to go down. He made sure of it.”

You were still smiling at the end of your story, at this point completely over the pain and suffering said engagement had caused you, even if it had ended you up in prison for several years and completely ruined your chance to a successful career.

And unbeknownst to you, James was more fascinated by you than ever, only wanting to know more about you the more you spoke.

“How much time did you get?” He asked, captivated by the fact that you could just keep smiling through it all.

“Originally five years, but I got out after two and a half on good behavior.” You replied casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

He raised his head slightly at that, realizing. “So that’s why you’re here.”

You hummed. “Scientists are very stuck-up and quick to judge, if you hadn’t already gathered that.” You spared Nieves, Brooks and San a glance, raising an eyebrow at the way they were squeezed together in the corner while Slivko and Marlow sang along to some music, staring at them with expressions all resembling distaste and annoyance.

James nodded as he watched them, getting your point, and only when your eyes met again did you continue. “Getting a job in this profession when you have a criminal record, and a pretty severe one at that, is just as hard as it sounds.”

“I can imagine.” He agreed.

A short moment of silence fell over the two of you again, but it was everything but uncomfortable or tense, as both of you knew, judging by the looks in your eyes, that it was going to be broken again.

“What about you?” You were the one to break the ice this time, your words causing his eyebrows to shoot up in a playful manner.

“What about me?” He repeated your earlier comeback, and you chuckled, glancing to the side before returning your gaze to his.

“Do you have anyone waiting for you? Have you ever been in love?” Your tone turned teasing at the second question, your eyes squinting as you smiled.

James snickered at your antics, his head shaking. “No, I’m on my own, and I can’t say that I have.” He replied, his chuckling fading into a simple smile as he continued. “But there’s still time.”

At that, your playful demeanor faded into a more serious one too, but your smile remained, the two of you holding each other’s eyes for a moment longer before simultaneously turning to look at the sky once more, staying there until it was time for everyone to go to sleep.

Come next morning, James, Marlow and Slivko were already up and at it when the rest of you woke up, the spots in which they had slept now empty.

The scientists kept keeping to themselves as they had the entire time you had been there, leaving you and Mason to spend some time with the Iwi and each other.

While she busied herself with taking pictures of the native people, you brought the woman you had spotted the day before, with the Pupula Duplex condition, to the side to take notes, something she didn’t seem to mind much with the way she was doing everything you told her.

Seeing as they didn’t speak, however, it was hard to get any more information than the one provided to you by the visuals, so you left sooner than you would’ve liked, heading out to where the others were crowded on the boat.

Even Nieves, San and Brooks had made it outside by then, but by the looks of it, they weren’t doing much to help.

You guessed they wouldn’t have been able to even if they wanted, though; scientists weren’t exactly known to be handy in the mechanical area. You were a good enough example of that.

So you stayed clear of the boat, only glancing over once in a while to meet James’ gaze when feeling his stare, but other than that distracting yourself with analyzing a carnivorous plant you had just happened to sit down next to.

You were so engrossed in studying it and drawing it in your sketchbook, in which you had already made countless of drawings during your time on the island, that you barely even noticed everyone else heading inside.

Only when they were coming back outside, James heading straight in your direction and by doing so blocking the sun, did you snap out of your little bubble, looking up at him just as he stopped.

“I brought you some food.” He said, holding out a plate looking to be made out of clay, like promised holding some kind of meat.

Your eyes squinted at the sight. “What is it?” You asked suspiciously, but nonetheless accepted the plate.

With his hands now free, he slowly bent down and sat down beside you. “Some kind of bird. It tastes just like chicken.” He informed you, and you hummed, starting to pick at it.

“What are you doing?” He asked, reaching his hand out toward your notebook and grazing his fingers over the drawing.

“Just… inspecting.” You replied, bringing a small piece of the bird-meat to your lips, the suspicion melting off once you realized that it did, in fact, taste just like chicken.

“You’re inspecting a flower?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “That hardly seems interesting.”

“Not just any flower.” You corrected him, putting the plate down in front of you and picking up a piece of the meat. “Watch.”

Slowly, you brought it out in front of the flower, and for a moment, you thought it wasn’t going to take it, but then its frog-like tongue slapped out and wrapped around your fingers, causing you to jump.

You quickly let go of the meat, letting the carnivorous plant bring it back into its mouth, and hurrying to bring you hand back, smiling and raising your eyebrows at James who was now looking at the plant with a disturbed look on his face.

“That’s… mildly terrifying.” He commented, bringing a chuckle from your lips.

“Yeah, nature has a tendency to be terrifying in the ways you least expect it.”

“So I’ve noticed.” He agreed with a chuckle of his own, averting his gaze from you to the boat.

When he did so, you did too, watching as Marlow and Slivko pulled at chains and other pieces of metal that you couldn’t identify to save your life; mechanics had always been your brother’s thing, you didn’t know shit about it.

“How’s it going with the boat? Any luck?” You asked after a moment of silence, sparing him a sideways glance.

“So far, not so much. But Slivko insists he’ll be able to fix it.” He answered without looking away from said boy.

You hummed. “Do you believe him?” You asked, turning to look at him again when catching him shrugging in the corner of your eye.

“It shouldn’t be impossible. We just have to work together.” He replied and, again, you hummed thoughtfully, pulling at a few strands of grass absentmindedly.

“I hope you’re right.” You mumbled. “I would very much like to get back home.”

His head turned in your direction, his eyes meeting yours when your head did the same.

“You will. I promise.” He told you, and you gave him a gentle smile.

“You should be careful with what you promise, Mr. Conrad.”

“James, please.” He corrected you, smiling softly at the memory of how good his name had sounded coming from your lips the day before.

“Alright, James.” You repeated, smiling and squinting against the sun.

You didn’t get the time to exchange any more words, Slivko yelling at James to come help him only a second later and cutting your moment short.

James stood up and headed off, leaving you to finish the meat you had completely forgotten up until then, having become so engrossed in the conversation.

Later that afternoon, when you were mindlessly walking around, trying to make time pass by quicker, you were fetched by Mason, who told you to grab your things and come to the boat, letting you know that it was time to go.

The boys had to give it a few tries but soon enough, the boat’s engine roared to life, and after that, everything happened so quickly.

Slivko had finally made contact with Packard and you had met up with him and the other survivors after they had fired a flare to give away their position; not before watching Nieves get ripped to shreds by some kind of carnivorous bird.

You barely made it out with your lives intact after stumbling upon the graveyard of Kong’s family, in which the Skull Crawlers also resided.

Even after that experience, Packard still insisted that Kong was the enemy, and it became apparent pretty quickly to you in that moment that he had completely lost it, something he came to pay for when he tried to blow Kong up and, in return, got stomped to death.

The next thing you knew, you were running for your lives with the Skull Crawlers hot on your trail, and as you reached the edge of the island, James came to a stop, turning to Mason and bringing a flare gun out of the hem of his pants.

“Weaver, get up on those rocks and fire a flare. With any luck, Brooks will see it.” He instructed her, and her eyes instantly widened.

“I- Wha-“

You rolled your eyes, marching forward. “I’ll do it. Give it here.” You stated, snatching the gun out of his hands and tucking it into your pants.

“No.” He wasted no time in shaking his head. “Not with your foot.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I just ran all the way here, my foot is fine. And even if it hadn’t been, it’s not your decision to make. I wasn’t asking for your permission.” You said, holding his gaze while you removed your bag from your back and shoved it into Slivko’s arms, only then turning to look at the younger boy. “Take my bag. Do not let my notebook get wet. I need my notes.”

He stared at you with disbelief, shaking his head. “Man, you have your priorities fucked up.” He said, but nonetheless slung it over his shoulder and ran off.

The others followed his example and you turned around to head to the rocks.

“Wait.” James' voice spoke from behind you, his hand coming out to catch your wrist, causing you to turn around to look at him with a questioning expression.

He was quiet for a moment, both of your chests heaving up and down from the intense running, but then his face softened, his head nodding slightly. “We'll buy you time.” He promised, and although you were confused about the unreadable expression on his face, you knew he was telling the truth.

“I know you will.” You replied with a nod, and after you had shared one final look, he took off after the others while you started climbing the rocks.

In retrospect, all of them were happy you had been the one to go and not Mason, remembering after the moment had passed that you were, in fact, a professional rock climber; something that came with the speleology.

You reached the top in no time and didn’t waste another second, raising the gun as high into the air that your arm would allow and firing the red flare, all while Kong and the Skull Crawler were fighting below you.

Before you knew it, Brooks and San turned up on the boat, firing at the Skull Crawler. But the guns on the boat were old and rusty, and jammed, with Kong momentarily knocked out, giving the Skull Crawler free passage to the boat.

So you did the only thing you could do from on top of the mountain, loading another bullet into the flare gun with shaking hands, pulling back the safety, and firing it, watching as it lodged itself into the big lizard’s ear.

This gave Kong enough time to get back up to his feet and swing a chain with a heavy propeller stuck to the end into the head of the Skull Crawler, and you watched with wide eyes as he then proceeded to wrap the chain around its neck and swing its entire body to the side.

It wasn’t until you felt the rough tremble under your feet that you realized he had thrown it right into the base of the mountain you were standing on, and you barely got the time to progress this realization in your brain before you were thrown off the rock.

You fell and for a moment, everything felt as if it was moving in slow motion around you, but then it all sped up again, the last thing you heard being a mighty roar, followed by the sound of your own named being yelled, before your back hit the cold water and everything turned black.

Everyone watched with horror as your body disappeared into the water, James more so than anyone, and as you slowly sank further and further away from the surface, he wasted no time in sprinting in your direction, not caring in the slightest if he would get hurt in the process.

Kong was distracted, changing his agenda and moving over to the water, lowering his fist into it and picking up your body.

This gave the Skull Crawler an open window to attack, but in the end, Kong persevered, ripping the entire spinal cord out of its body and at the same time, managing to do so without harming you.

James slid into a halt on the wet grass when Kong lowered you back onto the ground, wasting no time in cradling you into his arms.

“Come on.” He breathed out, panic tightening his chest and his hands frantically brushing the wet strands of hair out of your equally as wet face. “Come on.” He whispered again, and let out a sigh of relief when your face suddenly pulled into a frown, water spluttering out of your mouth a second later.

“Oh, thank God.” He breathed out, turning you over to your side in his arms to help you get all of the water out.

Once you stopped coughing, he turned you back into his chest, and slowly, you came back to your senses, your eyes fluttering open.

“James?” You mumbled, having to blink to get the water out of your eyes, squeezing them shut when he brought his thumbs up to wipe your eyelashes.

“I’m here.” He said, and finally, you were able to see him clearly, his green eyes staring down at you with worry unlike no other. “I thought I lost you.”

His hands were cradling your face, thumbs still gently stroking the hair away.

Your lip twitched slightly at the pain that suddenly became very apparent in the back of your head, but still, you couldn’t help but ask. “What? You in love with me or something?”

A moment passed, and then you watched as his face pulled into a large smile. “Or something.” He chuckled out in a relieved breath, and you only got the time to smile back before you were being hugged tightly against his chest.

Your eyes closed briefly at the feeling, your arms wrapping around his neck.

His hand held the back of your head protectively, his face buried in your neck, and as you opened your eyes again, you met the ones of Kong, who stayed to look at you just one last time, before turning around and walking away.

Some minutes later, you were all safely packed onto the boat, the wind drying your hair as you went. A blanket was wrapped around your shoulders, having been provided to you by Slivko and Marlow the second you had come aboard.

You were watching the scenery of the island go by in a flurry, your head heavy against James’ upper arm where he stood beside you, just lost in thought like everyone else.

“What are you going to do when we get back?” His voice reached your ears just then, and you looked up, finding him to already be looking at you.

“I have a job lined up in Papua New Guinea.” You said, smiling tiredly. “My brother and his team found an unexplored cavern and they believe it could contain an undiscovered ecosystem.”

“Sound interesting, right down your lane.” He replied, the corners of his lips tugging up, but the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

“It is.” You nodded, wrapping the blanket tighter around your body to shield your wet clothes from the winds. “What are you going to do?” You asked, watching as his shoulders shrugged.

“I don’t know. Just lay low for a while.” He replied, averting his gaze and adjusting his stance, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Sounds like a good idea. An experience like this would make anyone want to retire.” You chuckled, moving your gaze forward too. “Have you ever tried it? Cave diving, I mean.”

“No.” He answered with a chuckle. “I’ve managed to stick to work on the surface this far.”

“You could come with me, if you’d like. Try something new.” You offered without as much of a doubt in your mind, turning your head to look back up at him.

At the feeling of your stare and the sound of your words, he turned his head back to you, too. And just like you, he didn’t hesitate for a second to answer, with a smile to match your own. “I don’t see why not.”

Your smile widened and you held his gaze for a moment, before slowly moving your hand on top of his, causing him to look down.

You watched him, awaiting his reaction, admittedly a bit anxiously so. But the stress and uncertainty melted right off at the feeling of his fingers intertwining with yours, his other arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer into his side.

His lips met your temple and you shared a glance, before leaning in and meeting each other in the middle for a kiss, only pulling apart with smiles on your faces when the sound of propellers reached your ears, three choppers coming to take you back to the ship.

You had started the mission off a lone soul, and so had he. But now... now you had been through hell together, and you knew that no matter how far away from each other you ended up, you’d never be alone again.

Luckily for you, however, it didn’t end up being very far because come the next night, you stepped off the ship together, side by side and hand in hand, like agreed heading off to Papa New Guinea where your brother and his crew resided, both of you ready for a new beginning.

Like you had said, after an experience like this… anyone would be.

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