#maybe not his best move given his current predicament

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Christmas

Feelings become warmer as the weather outside gets colder.

Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, fluff, flirty Jungkook, fluff!!, smut, Mutual masturbation, my heart is so full

Length: 4k words (oops)

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If you ask Jungkook what he’d like for Christmas, won’t the surprise be ruined?

Then again, what if he genuinely doesn’t want anything from you for such an intimate occasion? You’re not really the textbook definition of a couple after all, the dreaded ‘L’ word having never been spoken, so maybe that’s moving too quickly too soon.

Maybe just some sweets? But he seems rather conscious about his physique, maybe he won’t eat it because it doesn’t fit his diet or something. Wait, does he even diet? How come you never thought about that?

You whine loudly in your apartment, letting your head fall into your arms on the table as your laptop offers you no advice on what to do these days. Every question that’s similar to you always includes the mention of a sugar daddy situation or whatnot, or their partners are more than twenty years apart in age, and that’s just not your problem. Jungkook isn’t.. really your sugar daddy or anything. Sure he's been paying your rent, but he’s been doing that because he wants to- you’re offering him nothing in return, and neither does he ask for something.

What are you two, really?

Is he getting you something for Christmas? He seems awfully busy these days after having returned to work from his accident, despite doctor's advice to rest a few days longer. You’re not sure why he was so eager, but you guess that that’s just who he is.

You could ask Taehyung, but that guy could never keep a secret even if held at gunpoint. One stern look from his friend and he’d spill your plan, you’re sure of it- so who else could you ask?

You wonder if Evelyn ever got him anything for Christmas. You’d love to know just to have at least some sort of measurement to go for- but then again, maybe that’s not the best idea to get inspiration from his ex wife.

Something’s heard from your bathroom. You frown.

The moment you open it, water greets you- old washing machine having given up for real now this time, as it’s got just about half an hour left of the current program running, water seeping out from the side of the door. You quickly shut it off, ripping the plug out from the socket on the wall to at least not make an even worse mess, socks soaking up the soapy smelling water.

Great.

At least your mind’s been taken off of your earlier predicament by that.

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Jungkook sighs as he leans back in his office chair, reading over the schedules and meetings again and again. He needs to make sure everything’s alright before he announces his plans to the rest of the company, not wanting to cause trouble for the new year just because of his own selfish reasons.

His secretary brings in a few signed documents, smiling kindly. “everyone’s on board with the dates.” She offers, and Jungkook nods, taking the documents to check the signatures.

“Thank you. Could you file them for me?” he asks, and she nods as always, taking them back.

“and, your uhm.. Miss Evelyn is in the lobby again, asking for you.” She cringes out a smile, making Jungkook groan in dramatized pain as he throws his head back, flinching a bit from the sudden move.

“What the hell does she want?” He whines, making his secretary send him a shrug.

“she refused to tell, as always.” She sighs. “demanded to see you.”

“And I’m about to demand a restraining order..” he mumbles to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. “send her up. We both know she’s not going to leave on her own accord.” He waves off, and his secretary bows politely before she disappears out of his office.

The second Evelyn enters, he’s feeling odd again. Like he’s just even more agitated to see her than normal.

“Why did you change the pass code on our apartment?” she demands to know, and Jungkook frowns harshly at that.

“Because you no longer live there, nor have any right to enter.” He explains. “what were you doing there in the first place?”

“You said I could have my Christmas party there?” she huffs, crossing her arms.

“I said that last year, because I was not in the country anyways. “ He sighs.

“so?” she wonders, caught off guard.

“so?” He parrots. “this year I’m spending Christmas home. And I no longer need the apartment- its been up for sale since June.”

“But I need it? And you shouldn’t be alone on Christmas anyways, you could’ve attended the party.” She says, walking closer now. “I know we no longer-“

“Who said I’m spending it alone?” He asks, arms crossed to block her off, leaving back in his office chair. “Evelyn, I’ve moved on. You should do the same.”

“You can’t be serious with that kid.” She scoffs. “Jungkook do you know how ridiculous you look? They’re talking about you, you know?” she complains.

“who? Your friends?” He asks. “as if they didn’t talk about me before.”

“That’s different.” She shakes her head. “You’re in your late thirties, Jungkook. She’s what, twenty? Is she even legal?” she laughs, but Jungkook doesn’t bite the bait.

She’s got no business with you.

“I can assure you that our relationship is that of two consenting adults.” He makes sure to pronounce. “and what I do or who I’m doing what with, is none of your business, and it hasn’t been since we divorced. A choice that you happily agreed to, might I add.” He says, hitting a sore spot for her. “I ask you to leave me alone one last time, Evelyn.”

“or what.” She sneers, leaning on his table now.

“the next time you overstep a boundary, no matter which, I will be speaking to you through legal means.” He simply answers. “if I can’t get through you, maybe my lawyer can.” He shrugs off.

“Jungkook I know we ended on not so great terms, but this is stupid.” She begs. “I told you we could try again-“

“Evelyn I’m in a relationship with this woman because I want to, not because I’m in some strange crisis over the loss of you.” He hisses. “not everything is always about you, get it through your head.” He shakes his head, before he gets up to open the door of his office. “and now leave. Or I will have someone help you with that.”

It's quiet, even some of the staff outside looking anxiously as to what’s about to happen, when Evelyn walks into the doorframe.

“I hope you come to your senses soon.” She sighs, disappointed. “before you hurt another woman.” She says, before she leaves, heels loud on the floor as they disappear along with her, leaving him to close his office, and sit back down.

He's not hurting you. He’d never.

He knows he’s been very lenient with Evelyn even long after they divorced, but that was because he truly didn’t care anymore. It didn’t matter, but these days, it does. He doesn’t want her in his life anymore, because that spot she was taking up is now filled with you-

And you fit it so much better than her.

He takes his phone out to call you- a strange urgency inside of him to hear your voice right now as the call is sent out, waiting to be picked up by you. When you do, you sound out of breath. “Hey.” You say, and he chuckles.

“You sound busy.” He greets. “is it a bad time?” He asks, and you don’t answer for a second.

“A little? Not really.” You sigh. “honestly I could use the distraction.” You laugh.

“What’s wrong?” He wonders, signing out of his work laptop.

“my washing machine broke. There’s soap everywhere!” You whine. “my apartment smells like a laundry service.” You complain.

“Is it bad?” He asks, shutting the lid of his laptop. “I can come over in like, half an hour and help you clean up. Did you turn it off?” He worries, getting up to walk over and turn off the AC.

“Yeah I.. pulled the plug in a panic.” You answer. “and no, it’s not… that bad, just my bathroom flooded, it’s already draining.” You sigh. “don’t worry.”

“Hm, too late.” He teases. “I’ll come over as soon as I get out of here, okay?” He asks.

“Alright, but I’m not letting you do much anyways.” You say. “I’m still upset you went to work already.”

“I know.” He agrees, looking out the tall windows for a moment. “thank you for worrying about me.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and he’s wondering if you hung up- when you answer, softly.

“of course.” You say. “that’s what.. you know.. people like us do.” You say.

“people like us?” He wonders.

“Yeah. People who.. like each other.” You tell him.

“I think our feelings extend that of.. liking a little, don’t you think?” He chuckles.

“Maybe?” You ask. “I’m not sure. Like, I feel.. a lot more than just like I like you, but, you know..”

“I’ve not been very clear, haven’t I.” He sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m.. a bit out of practice you could say.” He apologizes.

“No, no its fine.” You wave him off. “just… we’ll figure it out, I’m sure.” You encourage- both of you, in a way.

“I’m sure of that too.” He agrees. “text me what you’d like to eat later. I’ll pick up some food on the way over to you.” He offers.

“Will you stay over?” You wonder.

“Do you want me to?” He asks.

“…yes.” You answer, for the first time actually requesting something from him. “I want you to stay.” You say, and he can feel his heart beat faster, louder.

“Then I’ll stay.” He answers.

Unaware that after you end the call, you’re squealing into your hands like a teenage girl, while he hides his face behind his own hand, a little overwhelmed by it all.

This truly feels like love.

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“The sealing around the door has become loose.” Jungkook mentions as he inspects the old machine for what might’ve caused the soapy disaster, sleeves of his white button up rolled up to his elbows as he finds the issue. “You can just buy a new one, but to be honest, I’d rather you have an entirely new machine.” He shakes his head, leaning back on his heels where he sits on the bathroom floor. “this thing is over ten years old.”

“But they’re expensive..” you huff. “and it’s still working though?” You wonder.

“Sure, but it’s not efficient. It’s too costly to run it.” He shrugs. “what you’re saving in not getting a new one, you basically throw out every time you use it.” He explains. “I’ll buy you a new one, it’s really no big deal.” Jungkook offers as he gets up, moving to dry his hands with a towel. “For now you can wash your stuff at my house. I don’t mind at all.”

You wonder. Does he really not mind?

You’ve only spent a little less than a week at his house, but it felt a little strange. Like he was a guest in his own home the entire time. He didn’t know where certain things were, other stuff like cooking utensils seemed way too new to be used.

“What’re you thinking about?” He wonders, walking up to you to move your hands, lifting them onto his shoulders in a request to have you hug him. His own palms find their resting place on your waist, swaying you a little to the slow beat of the TV playing a Christmas commercial.

“Nothing.” You deny, hands moving to play with the short hairs on his neck.

“liar.” He accuses. “What’s on your mind?”

“Christmas?” You burst out, before you shake your head, Jungkook looking at you a bit confused. “I- I mean, do you want to.. maybe spend, you know, a day of Christmas with me?” You ask, meekly so, averting eye contact. “we could I don’t know.. bake something or..” fuck, you think. Baking?! How childish is that-

“I’d love to.” He answers, an oddly shy grin on his face as he looks at you with eyes sparkling. “I’ve never done that before.” He admits.

“never?” You ask, and he shakes his head. “what do you.. how do you usually spend Christmas?” You ask, and he shrugs.

“I don’t.”

What?

“Evelyn held her Christmas parties, but I’m not a very social guy. So I usually worked during the holidays to escape the whole trouble.” He chuckles.

“Oh.” You simply say, unsure now. You didn’t really think about the possibility of him not wanting to celebrate Christmas at all.

“But, I’d like to have a.. quiet Christmas.” He says suddenly, stepping closer to you. “with you.”

“Oh?” You wonder, finding his gaze again.

“If you’ll have me, that is.” He shrugs. “I’m not upset if you say it’s.. too fast too soon.”

Your lips part-

Before you laugh, tearfully, hiding in his chest as you begin to cry a little. He’s not sure what’s wrong, all he can offer a hand in your back as he lets you calm down.

“I’m sorry- I don’t know why I’m crying.” You laugh, wiping your eyes. “its just- I was.. I was thinking the same. The whole week.” You confess, tired of keeping it all in. “I was stressing- I want to, I want to do so many things now because I feel like I finally have a person to do them with, but I’m worried I might be doing too much now and-“

“Hey.” He says, helping you breathe for a second as he holds your face, cheeks in his palms. “Thank you so much.” He answers.

“..what?” You wonder, sniffling.

“For telling me. For.. trusting me.” He simply answers, wiping your tears. “I thought christmas presents are meant to be given on the 24th?” He chuckles, and you laugh along.

“I was actually wondering what to get you.. if you even want anything..” you shrug, looking down now.

“it really doesn’t matter.” He confesses. “You can simply.. spend that day with me, and I’m happy.”

“But, can I give you a present?” you ask, and he nods.

“if you want to, of course.” He accepts. “I.. actually have a bit of a confession of my own.” He laughs a bit shy now, sitting down on the couch with you. “I’ve worked a bit overtime. To.. do something special, not just for us, but the company as well.” He shrugs. “and you’re the main reason for it.

“Huh?” You wonder, as he opens his phone, showing some of his emails coming in.

All of them are replies to a Company schedule he’s sent out- and all of the preview texts are a variation of gratitude towards it.

“I’ve given most of the company the option to take the holidays off.” He says. “it’s not much- just the last two weeks of December, but.. it felt right.”

“How am I the reason for that?” You wonder.

“You made me realize that there’s.. things more important than work sometimes.” He shrugs, locking his phone to put it on the small coffee table. “I have so many fathers and mothers in my company. Just because I didn’t have children, or a family or just a single person to spend those days with, I never thought about them potentially needing those days off.” He shakes his head. "and if I take those days off to be with.. my own family, why not give them the option as well?” He offers. “it’s only Fair.”

“Do you never visit your parents?” You ask, unsure.

“not really. I didn’t want them to.. ask questions.” He chuckles. “when are the grandkids coming, why is your wife never here, all that.” He laughs. “Eve.. never visited my family much.”

“That sounds like she never really cared much about the holidays.” You mumble.

“She did.” Jungkook denies. “she just didn’t care about me.”

For a moment, you’re quiet- before you jump over your shadow, boldly leaning over to peck his lips, making him almost chase after you a little.

“Well, I care about you.” You confess-

And at that, he truly can’t help but lean over to kiss you properly, eagerly, to make up for the lack of words he’s able to find.

Whatever this is, he no longer cares. He just wants to keep it close, never lose it, bind you to him and have you sheltered in his own home to never have to face any bad things the world seems to throw your way ever again.

“I care about you too.” He breathes against your lips, keeping you close, hands on your waist happily welcoming you onto his lap. It’s the first time he’s seemingly demanding now- taking the upper hand as he encourages the movements of your hips grinding on him with a bit of hesitance.

He'd love to take you, right now, right here- but he also doesn’t have any protection with him.

Maybe he should always have one on hand when meeting you. His hunger is starting to grow with each time he has you, after all. “we don’t.. “ you breathlessly try and argue, as he leans hisnhead into the crook of your neck, kissing the skin. “I have no-“

“Figured.” He chuckles. “Do you want to stop?” He asks, leaning back to look at you.

“I mean.. we have to..” you shrug, and he can see the slight disappointment in your face as you try and adjust yourself.

“Not really.” He shrugs. “There’s more to sex than.. just that, after all.” He suggests, and you look at him, before your eyes can’t help but travel a bit, unsure. Of course he’d be more experienced than you- he’s got a lot more time to have been fooling around after all, and you’re not at all upset at that-

You’re just a bit.. pressured now. What if he thinks you’re boring if he realizes that your past sexual experiences have been.. standard at best?

“don’t feel like you have to.” He makes sure to tell you, and you nod.

“I do want to.” You confess, and even thought you can’t look at him, he still thinks it’s a huge step for you to even reveal this. “I just.. it’s like the Christmas situation, you know?” You shrug. “I want to do so much but, I also worry I might be overwhelming, or that I screw things up and then you got excited for nothing-“

“Hey.” He chuckles, holding your face in his hands again, pecking your lips. “let’s agree that we will probably not get everything right all the time.” He tells you. “we’ll both screw up. I’ll do something that going to make you upset, you’ll do something that’ll make me upset. That’s called living together.” He laughs. “But I’m convinced that we’ll figure it out.”

“Why?” You ask, looking at him- surprised to see his eyes swimming with emotions, not used to seeing him so vulnerable.

“Because I want to believe.” He answers, voice barely anything above a whisper.

And it makes you realize that it’s not just you who got attached. He’s obviously just as invested in you as you are in him, and maybe, just maybe, you’ve never really thought about that. About his worries, what he might fear, what he struggles with. For you, he’s always been that person who has full control over everything.

But can you control who you fall in love with?

“Then..” you adjust your position a little, before you start to play with the buttons of his shirt. “I’ll believe in it, too.”

The kiss you’re offering is gentle, it’s a promise given, and also something more than that. You’re giving yourself to him with this, trusting him to both care for you- but also accepting his trust to handle him with just as much care. You feel sorry for not understanding his situation sooner, but you do now- and it makes a lot of things look a lot less scary.

Living together means making mistakes. And loving each other means working through those mistakes.

You’re moved by his hands to sit on his thigh instead, hips moving over the muscles beneath his pants, while your hands have undone his shirt by now, causing him to shiver a bit, both from the cool touch of your fingers, but also from the gentle manner in which you treat him.

He feels valued. Cherished.

Loved.

The moment your hand undoes his belt to gain access to what’s beneath, his kisses grow more heated, needy almost, his own hands guiding your hips over his leg. But he needs more, moves your legs again to straddle him once more, one of his hands easily slipping into your underwear to find you more than just a little affected.

There’s frustration in him. A need.

He really needs to start carrying a condom around for situations like this.

And it’s obvious this stress is shared by you, if the expression you have and the way you shamelessly run into his fingers are anything to go by. But it’ll have to do, he doesn’t want to risk things, and considering that he’ll spend Christmas with you anyways, it’s not like this is the last time he’ll ever see you.

And he can’t deny that your hands make him feel good enough already.

Mostly because it’s yours that touch him- the emotional connection you both have established at this point making him feel even more sensitive to every form of affection you offer. He feels comfortable and frankly safe enough to let himself fall into your arms freely- trusting you enough that you’ll catch him, just as much as he’d always catch you.

Your hands aren’t even on him- his underwear still between your fingers and his very obvious election, and yet he’s sure he could cum from this alone. You’re clearly chasing your own high as well by now, head leaned on his shoulder, soft whines beneath your heavy breaths causing him to twitch in your hands.

It's when two fingers slip inside you that you become restless, hands on him moving with more urgency as he plays your body like an instrument he’s been professionally trained in. Thumb flicking over your sensitive bud, slick making an almost obscene sound, but it oddly adds to the intimacy of it all.

This is your moment. No one can take this from you.

Your hands stutter a bit in their movements as you reach your peak, but you push though nonetheless to push him over the edge as well- a very particular movement as your fingers trace his outline making him spill, seed staining the fabric of his underwear a darker shade of its grey color.

It's quiet as you catch your breaths, his hand lazily wiping itself on your cotton shorts.

“You want to come to my place for tonight?” He whispers, slowly calming down again.

“Cause you need to change?” You tease, and he chuckles.

“That too.” He admits. “but mostly because I don’t want to sleep without you tonight.” He tells you, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “we could.. uhm. You know, the stores are still open.” He mumbles a bit more hesitant now, as you open your eyes to look at him. “if you.. want to help decorate the house with me.” He tells you almost incoherently.

Just for you to grin brightly, giggling happily into the crook of his neck.

“I’d love to.”

[uvobreakmylegs]

Chosen

basically the Amateur Night section from the movie V/H/S but with more wlw

vampire! Machi x female! reader

💕Happy Valentine's Day💕

Warnings: creepy behavior, allusions to noncon/dubcon, implied death, implied violence, manipulation, mind control

Word count: 5.3k

You wanted to talk to her.

She sat next to you at the table, and you couldn't help the way your eyes would continuously go over to her, taking in different things about her appearance every time you would steal a glance. Her pink hair that was kept up in a ponytail was one of the first things you noted, followed by the pretty shade of blue of her eyes and the pale shade of her lipstick. The dark purple dress she was wearing suited her, though you had to wonder if the high collar of the garment made things uncomfortable given the rather humid air in the bar. Although she seemed comfortable enough, so it must not have been an issue for her.

You really wanted to talk to her.

Unfortunately, the current situation you found yourself in wasn't allowing that to happen. Not very easily.

A hand brushed against your shoulder, and your attention was brought back to the guy who was sitting way closer than you liked, crowding you in so you had no easy way out.

“You sure you don't want a drink?” he asked over the music in the bar.

“I've got a drink,” you answered, smiling as you lifted up the glass that you were careful not to let out of your sight.

“Then how about shots?”

“Nah, no thanks.”

“Aw, don't be boring.”

“I'm good,” you cheerfully reiterated, adding “maybe one of your friends will do it.”

“But I want you to do it.”

You laughed, trying your best to keep your annoyance hidden as he continued to push for you to drink more.

You didn't like this guy at all.

You wouldn't be sitting with him were it not for the fact that he and one of his friends had managed to effectively trap you where you were sitting: the two men came up on either side of the table where you were sitting and asked if the other seats were taken in the same moment that they sat down next to you. Since you had foolishly picked an area where the seats were right up against the wall, you couldn't get out without them moving out of the way.

And it was very clear that the guy sitting next to you didn't intend on leaving you alone.

Despite being in a crowded bar, you didn't feel safe trying to bring attention to your predicament. The conflict-averse part of you felt it was better to try and get out of this without causing a scene, so you smiled and pretended to entertain him while you waited for your opportunity to get away.

You thought you found your opportunity when the one on the other side of you got up to get himself a drink, and you kept the guy next to you distracted as you subtly collected your purse into your lap, ready to make a quick exit.

That was when she showed up.

The duo of men were actually a trio, and their third came sauntering up to the table with her, telling her to take the seat next to you. He tried to place his hand on her lower back but stopped when she gave him a sharp glare that made him back off, holding up his hands in mock surrender while she slid in next to you.

You could've asked her to move – tell that to her and this new guy before they settled in. And surely she would have no issue complying even if it would annoy the two men.

But after taking one look at her, you decided not to.

Instead, you said nothing as she sat down. And after the two of you made eye contact, you smiled and introduced yourself.

She nodded in response before giving you her name – Machi.

You couldn't explain it at all, why you decided to stay. There was something else, something about her that drew you in. What it was exactly you couldn't quite pinpoint; at best all you could say was that she had a certain aura about her that mystified you that part of you wanted to describe as being otherworldly, and that was enough to have you wishing that you could know more.

But so far the only words that the two of you had managed to exchange were your initial greetings, as the two guys that were now blocking both of you in were eager to have you drink your fill while they chatted you up. It looked pretty obvious to you where they were hoping this would go: you and Machi going home with them while being too inebriated to offer much in terms of resistance. That was the sense you got from the way the looked at you two and how the guy next to you – did he say his name was Jeremy? – kept finding reasons to put his hands on you. You felt your skin burning every time he touched you, but you fought the urge to push him away.

That was what you got for going out to a bar alone.

But maybe you and Machi could get out of this together.

You glanced over to her again while Jeremy was talking about something, and you found that she appeared just as disinterested in the man sitting next to her – his name might have been Glen – as she had been when he first herded her over here. Her eyes were still on the drink that he had placed in front of her earlier – that she had yet to even touch – and she wasn't giving him much of a reaction to anything he said. Her responses were generally short.

That didn't seem to dissuade him much, and you glanced over a short while later just in time to see him reaching for her hand.

She turned her head away from you to face him, and you could only assume that she was glaring at him again as he backed off immediately, once more holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Though you couldn't help but notice that the smile that accompanied that gesture seemed a lot more forced now.

That could be bad.

You needed to bring your attention back to Jeremy as you heard him speaking to you again.

“What do you think you'll be doing once you're done here?” he asked you.

“I'm not sure,” you answered.

He grinned as he leaned in closer, saying “we rented a room not far from here. You should come with us; we'll have more drinks.”

Oh fuck no

“I don't know,” you said, “I'm not sure how much more drinking I want to do tonight.”

“You're being boring again.”

“They're both being boring,” Glen chimed in, pointing to Machi's drink as he added “she hasn't touched what I got her at all.”

“I don't like it,” Machi told him.

“Why didn't you tell me earlier?”

“You didn't ask.”

Sensing that his friend was losing his patience, Jeremy cut in.

“You should drink it anyway. It's polite,” he told her.

“See? You're outvoted two to one. You should take a sip,” Glen said.

"No."

At that point, you felt compelled to step in as well.

“I agree with Machi. She doesn't need to drink it if she doesn't want to,” you said.

“Oh, come on! You're not supposed to team up against us,” Jeremy told you in a teasing tone.

“Then you shouldn't be giving us a reason to team up in the first place,” you said. Your tone had been just as light, and the slightly awkward moment ended when the third guy of their friend group (who you had almost managed to completely forget about) came back and Glen handed him Machi's untouched drink. He seemed a bit confused for a second before eventually wandering off with it.

Jeremy had never lost his good spirits, but you couldn't help but notice the way Glen glared at you, and you immediately didn't feel good. You didn't like the thought of staying around him any longer than you needed to.

Machi was quiet again, though the two of you managed to make eye contact again, at which you smiled at her.

She gave you a brief, small nod, seemingly as a way to quietly thank you.

It continued like that, Jeremy becoming subtly but increasingly insistent on you drinking more with him. All you could do was politely laugh it off. Meanwhile there was a one-sided conversation going on between Machi and Glen, who was doing all of the talking while she didn't even make an attempt to pretend to be interested in what he was saying. And then the third guy returned to the table for a brief moment without the drink he'd been handed before, but quickly went back out onto the floor, wandering towards another woman who seemed to be on her own.

You had no clue how long things stayed like this, though the moment felt never-ending.

Jeremy leaned in towards you suddenly, and the way he encroached on your space forced you to back away. Unfortunately, you ended up scooting right up against Machi.

“Ah- sorry,” you said to her.

She shrugged, saying “it's alright.”

Despite the minimal interaction between you two, Glen seemed to get annoyed by it, telling her “you've been talking to her more than you've been talking to me. What's up with that?”

“You haven't been saying anything all that interesting,” Machi told him.

“So that's why you're ignoring me?”

She shrugged.

“Why are you even here if all you're going to do is act like a bitch?” he asked.

“Weren't you the one who dragged me over here?” she asked in response.

He didn't say anything in response to that, but you could tell now that he was getting angry. Even Jeremy seemed worried about where the interaction was going to go, staying quiet while trying to silently tell his friend to stop whatever he was thinking.

You chose then to interject once more, clapping your hands to get everyone's attention.

“Hey! I changed my mind,” you said aloud, turning to Jeremy as you said “I'll do shots as long as everyone else does. Why don't you and your friend go get some for us?”

“…. Uh, yeah, okay.”

Jeremy stood and signaled for Glen to go with him. And after a few seconds, he reluctantly left his seat, walking away with his friend towards the crowded bar to collect the drinks. With them at the bar and the third guy whose name you still didn't know at the other side of the room talking to the same woman you saw him approaching earlier, it was just you and Machi now.

You turned to her as you said “I think he's getting really mad at you.”

She looked over to you before simply replying with a “I noticed.”

“Aren't you worried? What if he tries to do something?” you asked.

“He can try but it won't make much difference.”

“And besides,” she added, “he won't dare to do anything while we're here. Not unless he wants everyone in here to come down on him.”

“But you won't have that safety if he gets you alone,” you pointed out.

“I know.”

If she knew that, then why wasn't she leaving?

Before you were able to say anything along those lines, Machi beat you to it as she said “you should probably head off before they come back.”

Looking back to where the men were standing, she was right that now was a good time to escape. There appeared to be some sort of hold-up at the bar as there were a lot of people clustered around there now; no doubt the poor bartenders were desperately trying to get through all the drink orders quickly to avoid any potential verbal abuse from the patrons who would likely get angry if their order took too long. Jeremy and Glen were still in the same place, both men straining their necks to look over the people in front of them. And the third guy was still talking to that woman, though she was looking increasingly uncomfortable as he leaned in closer to her.

If you wanted to leave without incident, now was your chance.

“Like you said, things could get bad if we end up alone,” Machi added, “I doubt you want to get caught up in that.”

…. She was telling you to leave.

But she'd be staying?

After a moment, you shook your head.

“I don't want to leave yet,” you said.

Machi's gaze narrowed as she looked at you.

“There's no way you're actually interested in either of them,” she said.

“How can you tell?”

“Because I've been feeling the way you cringe every time that one touches you. Unless you like torturing yourself, you have no reason to stay here,” Machi said.

“I have a reason,” you replied.

“And what's that?”

“I don't want to leave you alone with them.”

Machi only raised an eyebrow at you.

You continued, saying “I'm really worried about you now. I don't get why you aren't leaving yourself, but after seeing the way that guy looked at you, I don't feel good at the thought of leaving you alone with him.”

“So you're staying because you're worried about me,” she stated.

You nodded.

She didn't look impressed.

“That's nice of you, I guess, but you should really just leave. Despite how it might look, I can handle those idiots. I don't need someone to look after me,” she told you.

The tone in her voice indicated that she was annoyed with you.

Despite that, you decided to persist, cutting in before she spoke again.

“I'm sorry,” you said, “I'm not trying to annoy you, and I'm definitely not trying to belittle you or anything. I am really worried about what those guys might try to do to you, but that isn't the only reason why I'm staying.”

Machi's expression remained flat as she asked “what's the other reason?”

You ran your fingernail along the side of your glass, leaving marks in the condensation. It was nerve-wracking to try and build up the courage to admit that you were interested in her. After all, she didn't seem impressed with anyone around her; why would she ever be interested in you?

But you might as well shoot your shot, right?

“You seem really interesting and I'd like to get to know you,” you answered.

“Get to know me?” she asked.

“Like a one-on-one over a cup of coffee sometime. Or something else if that's what you'd prefer. Whatever would suit you best.”

You felt the heat building up in your cheeks as you said that and you couldn't make eye contact with her. Just how embarrassed did you look right now?

“….. Oh.”

From the way she said that, it seemed like she understood what you meant, and when you glanced over, you found that she looked a bit surprised at your confession. Machi then looked back to the empty surface of the table in front of her, and you followed suit by turning your gaze to the glass in your hands.

She wasn't upset, was she?

The two of you remained quiet for a few moments within the noisy atmosphere of the bar. The men weren't back yet. Their third was still desperately talking to that poor woman, but the ones who seemed most interested in you and Machi were nowhere to be seen. Though it felt like it was only a matter of time before they came back and you two would be trapped by them again.

In a perfect world, you and Machi would ditch those three and go somewhere else.

It seemed like that might be what ended up happening, as Machi was staying quiet. While she didn't seem as irritated as she had earlier, her reaction didn't necessarily point to anything positive for you.

There wasn't much to be done if she wasn't interested. If that was the case, the best thing you could do was make yourself scarce like she'd been telling you to do.

“I can leave you alone, though,” you said, “I understand if that's what you want.”

You realized after you spoke that your voice had been a bit too quiet in the loud space of the bar and you would likely need to repeat yourself if you wanted to be heard.

But somehow she did hear you as she answered “I don't know now.”

You blinked.

“You don't know?” you asked, confused.

“I don't know if I want you to leave me alone or not.”

“Oh.”

That was a good sign, right? Ah, crap. You'd never felt so flustered around someone else before this.

“I guess it's a bit surprising you'd say that when I've got that one guy hovering around me,” she said.

“I probably wouldn't have if it wasn't for the fact that you really hate him,” you answered.

“I don't hate him; he's not worth hating,” she replied.

“But you don't like him.”

“No.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you said “I really don't understand why you're hanging around these guys. Why?”

She dodged the question, answering with “we're discussing you, remember?”

“You're not even trying to hide the fact that you're avoiding my question,” you said.

“Nope.”

Machi's tapped her fingers on the table as she asked “still want to get to know me?”

“Yeah,” you answered without hesitation.

“You're weird,” she said.

You shrugged.

“I'll take weird. Being weird isn't always that bad,” you said.

“There are things that are worse than being weird,” she agreed, before adding “but I'm not sure why you're so interested in me.”

Probably not a good idea to word-vomit everything you'd been thinking about her. Probably better to say something that made at least a little bit of sense.

“I feel like we might work really well together,” you said.

She hummed.

“Based on what?” Machi asked.

“A hunch.”

It wasn't a great reason, but you couldn't think of anything other than that.

But you noticed the way Machi blinked after you said that.

And then, after a moment, she surprised you when she smiled to herself.

“Did I say something funny?” you asked.

“A little bit."

"Funny in a good way or a bad way?"

"A good way,” Machi answered.

She leaned her head against her hand as she said “I think I'd like to learn more about you, too.”

You felt your heart flutter as she said that and you smiled back at her.

If only that moment wasn't ruined by Glen and Jeremy returning to the table, carrying two small glasses each that were placed down in front of you while they apologized for the hold up. One of those glasses was slid across the surface of the table in front of you, and Jeremy told you to drink up.

Crap. You'd managed to forget how the excuse you'd used to get them away from you. After explicitly asking for drinks, there'd be a bad reaction if you refused them. You glanced over to Machi and found that the pleasant look on her face from earlier was gone, her lips once more set in a small frown. Yet she still picked up the glass that had been given to her. When she noticed you looking at her, she gave you a small nod. So she felt you should drink?

You felt better about it, then. You weren't about to trust Jeremy or his friends, but you could trust Machi.

The alcohol burned as it went down your throat, and the two men laughed at you when you made a face after swallowing it. Some water would've been nice to wash the taste out.

Machi's hand lightly touched your shoulder as she asked if you were alright, and you nodded, making a comment about how you didn't care much for the taste.

Glen seemed to be in a better mood now, which made you feel a bit better. Though with the return of the two men, you were now in the same predicament you'd been in before: unable to leave without causing some sort of issue with them, which by now you definitely didn't want to do. While it was nice to know that Machi was also a little interested in you, you didn't know how the two of you could ditch them. Especially with Machi being weird about her motives. You couldn't even ask about that now with the two of them crowding around you.

Hopefully you could figure something out.

The return to the situation you'd been stuck in for the past half-hour didn't last very long. At the other end of the bar, you heard a woman scream, and like everyone else in the room, your head turned to see the cause of the cry just in time to see a woman slapping that unnamed third guy across the face while yelling some choice words at him.

The two men with you reacted immediately. Glen got up to head to their third's rescue while Jeremy stood and hurriedly told the two of you “we should leave before they kick us out.”

“But we haven't done anything,” you said.

“Yeah, but you're with us,” he answered.

You were ready to argue with him on that point; every part of you was ready to throw him under the bus if just so you could finally get away from them, but Machi stopped you before you could say anything, tapping your shoulder to get your attention.

Looking you in the eye, she said “let's go with him.”

Within an instant all thoughts of arguing with Jeremy went out the window, and you blankly nodded with her suggestion.

There were more raised voices as you got up, and it sounded as though several people were becoming angry and possibly aggressive – you couldn't say for sure, however. You were only focused on the feeling of Machi's hand in yours as the both of you followed the guy out of the bar.

The skin of her palm and fingers felt slightly calloused, you idly thought.

When you snapped back to reality, you and Machi were on the sidewalk standing next to a car. Looking around revealed that Jeremy was heading back to the bar, where it sounded a lot louder now. Had things escalated inside?

All the more reason to leave now.

Turning back towards Machi, whose hand was still in yours, you asked “neither of us like those guys, right?”

She nodded.

“Then why don't we run really fast and get away before they get here?”

“I don't think you can run right now,” she said.

“Then we can walk really fast,” you replied.

Machi smiled a little, but shook her head.

You frowned.

“Did you mean it when you said that you wanted to learn about me?” you asked.

“Yeah, I did,” Machi said.

“Then why-”

“I need to do something first,” she said, “but after I'm done with them, we can ditch them for good.”

You didn't get a chance to ask what she needed them for, because her hand went to cup your cheek and her eyes looked into yours as she spoke again. For some reason, you felt as though you were taking in the information, yet you couldn't hear it. The words were connecting with some part of your subconscious as opposed to your mind; all your brain could focus on was the touch of her skin on yours, the pretty shade of blue of her eyes and the color of her lipstick.

Things that didn't involve Machi were hard to make out now. Your vision was fuzzy and it felt like you had cotton stuffed into your ears, the voices of other people that were also leaving the bar being hard to make out.

But every time Machi spoke, you could hear her clearly. Like when you were ushered into a car by the three men – when did they come back? – and you vaguely felt a hand on your back that shoved you across the seat, you heard her voice loud and clear as she firmly said “don't hit her.”

There was a car ride. Where the men were situated in the car you had no idea. But Machi sat next to you in the back seat, between you and one of the men. Sitting up began to feel strenuous, and you ended up with your cheek resting on her shoulder.

Her hand was still on your arm, reassuring you with soft touches, and you felt better.

By the time the car trip ended, you were having difficulty standing, and Machi needed to help you up the stairs of what appeared to be the upper level of a cheap motel. With the area being relatively quiet, you could hear now that the men were laughing, though their conversations were harder to make out.

The scenery changed again, and now you were inside a poorly lit motel room equipped with two beds that, under normal circumstances, you wouldn't want to even touch. But you didn't protest when Machi led you to one of them and laid you down on top of it, the scratchy bed cover not enough to keep you from the sleep that was now forcing you to close your eyes.

One of the men took issue with that, and you had enough awareness to know when he slapped you across the face. Yet that didn't manage to rouse you.

It felt like whoever had slapped you was about to do it again only to be abruptly stopped.

And then you heard her speak once more before blacking out completely.

“I said don't hit her.”

You didn't recognize the bedroom you woke up in.

After opening your eyes and blearily looking about the room for a few moments, that realization had you sitting upright, looking over yourself while trying to recall your last memory.

Your clothes were still on, so that was a good sign. But when it came to remembering everything that had happened, it became a little more spotty.

You'd been out at a bar. By yourself, which was a dumb move on your part since you attracted a trio of pests. Then you met Machi. You two managed to talk and it seemed like she might like you at least a little. And then you both were outside of the bar at some point.

After that….. Nothing.

You had no memory of what had happened after, where you'd gone from there or how you ended up in a darkened bedroom that seemed slightly cluttered. It was clearly morning, though, if the bits of light coming through the small spaces of the blinds were to be believed.

Where was Machi?

You only needed to look to the side of the bed that you hadn't checked to learn the answer to that. She lay next to you, facing away so all you really saw was messy pink hair sticking out from beneath the covers. But you must have made enough noise when you woke up because she turned towards you moments later, sitting up as well as she said “hey.”

“Hey,” you answered.

“Are you feeling alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, I think,” you said.

“I've got painkillers if you need any,” Machi said.

You didn't answer at first, distracted by the sight of her with her hair down, though you eventually remembered to reply as you said “I'm okay, but thanks.”

You sounded a bit distant, and she seemed to pick up on that.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

“Ah, I guess I'm just a little weirded out that I don't remember much of what happened last night,” you admitted.

“Maybe you drank too much.”

You didn't feel like that was the case, but you couldn't think of anything else. Or maybe it had something to do with the alcohol those guys had gotten for you.

Oh, right. Those three.

“What happened to those guys?” you asked her.

“They were at that motel last I saw,” Machi answered.

“But we're not at the motel.”

“No, this is my place.”

“But how did we end up here?” you asked.

“They were barely in a better state than you,” she said, “I slipped out with you once I saw a good opportunity.”

“Oh. Okay.”

They must have been more shitfaced than you realized. Didn't you get into a car with one of them driving? That was a bit more scary to think about, what might have happened if they were really that inebriated.

Luckily you were here now.

Then you added “thanks for taking me with you. I hope it wasn't too much trouble to drag me around with you.”

“It wasn't. But if you feel bad, you can make it up to me by having that one-on-one conversation you want over breakfast,” she said.

“Sounds good to me.”

With that, both of you were prompted to leave the bed, and as Machi made her way towards the bedroom door, instinct had you pulling the covers back over once you were standing, wanting to have the bed looking somewhat presentable at the very least.

Didn't you end up on a different bed at first last night?

You paused as bits and pieces came back to mind. An uncomfortable bed with an equally uncomfortable sheets. Raised voices. A scuffle.

Blood.

… When did that happen?

Machi called out to you, and you turned to her.

“Did you get hurt last night?” you asked.

“No.”

Her tone was nonchalant.

You questioned her again as you asked “did I get hurt?”

“No.”

“…. That's weird.”

“What is?”

“I feel like I remember seeing a lot of blood at one point,” you said.

Spattered across the floor and dripping down the walls, almost everything in sight coated in red. Even you – you could feel it sticking to the exposed parts of your skin, on your face, and you accidentally got a taste when you ran your tongue over your lips. It didn't feel good, and the smell in the air was overwhelming, like the particles were clogging up your nose. You made a move to get up from the bed you were laying on, wanting to leave.

Someone set their sights on you as soon as you did that.

“You didn't see any blood last night; you probably just had a nightmare,” Machi told you.

Ah. That made sense. After all, you'd looked over yourself when you woke up, and you would've noticed if there had been any blood on you. But it was just a nightmare, so it was better not to dwell on it.

That was such a weird thing to dream about, though.

You were walking towards her when another thought came to mind, that question that she'd avoided answering.

“Hey, you never told me what it was you wanted from those three. Why did you need to go with them?” you asked.

Machi waited until you had reached her, and this time she held out her hand to cup your cheek, her blue eyes staring directly into yours.

Blue eyes stared down at you from where you lay on the bed, a hand resting lightly on your chest as she pushed you back down. There was a groaning coming from behind her on the second bed, and if you were able to tear your gaze away from her, you might have seen the figures that were sprawled across it.

But you were too focused on everything about her: her hand traveling up to stroke your hair, the pretty shade of blue of her eyes and the deep red color that now covered her lips and dripped down from her mouth.

“It isn't important, so don't ask about it again,” Machi told you.

Within a moment, all of those thoughts were locked away into the deepest recesses of your mind, willed to never surface for as long as possible. You smiled at her as you cheerfully told her “okay!”

There was warmth in your heart when you saw that soft smile of hers once more.

[lamnwar]

KNB boys getting caught with their s/o? Specifically Kagami, Kise and Aomine.

getting caught doing what hm? 🤨 jk jk!! that's a very fun request I really enjoyed writing these hcs so thanks for the request babe 💕💕 (also sorry took me so long but coming from me are we surprised lmao)

MDNI 18+

GETTING CAUGHT // KNB Headcanons

Context: what if you and your boyfriend get caught in action, huh? All characters are aged-up for plot purposes (18+).

Pairings: Kagami + Kise + Aomine x gn! Reader

Warnings: nsfw (obviously 😭)! mention of sex (penetrative and oral), exhibitionism, public sex (kinda), more crack than sexy tbh but still!

KAGAMI

Ok first, let's preface by saying that it really is not like Taiga to take the risk of having sex when he knows you guys might get caught

He really tries his best to conceal his needs till you can find a place with enough intimacy to proceed

But sometimes, he really can't help it, you know?

And it's kinda on you for tempting him too! You know the guy gets riled up easily so maybe you did it on purpose now... didn't you?

(In other words, it's a 100% your fault oops)

Anyways, long story short, you got him so turned on that he had no choice but to drag you to the closest room with the very clear intent of being burried deep inside you

He's midway through restlessly thrusting into your tight little hole and he's so lost on the feeling that he doesn't even realize how loud the both of you are

There could be a whole party going down, y'all would still be heard

And it doesn't take long for someone to walk in on you bend forward, Kagami's fat cock drilling into you with so much fervour

Neither of you realizes that someone's there till they make themselves heard

A string of "oh my fucking god, I'm so sorry!!" getting the both of you to look at the door with wide eyes

And Kagami is so stunned on the moment to even think

Under the surprise, his first reflex is to hide his dick completely inside you, getting a surprised yelp out of your mouth

And when it hits that you guys got caught, he goes flushed red

Given that the person catching you isn't a perv, they close the door rapidly after but Kagami is still under total shock

He doesn't move for a while, and you have to bring him back to Earth

So here you are, Taiga's dick deep in your guts, trying to move to get him to react or something

"Uh... Taiga? What-"

When he finally snaps out of it, he hurrily gets out of you, quite to your displeasure though

And it's when you grab him and pull him back to you that he realizes that you have no intention to stop, despite getting caught

"They already know anyways, doesn't change a thing"

KISE

Definitely the one that got you in that situation in the first place

LISTEN there's no way he's not gonna use his charms to get you to follow him in his ministrations

So he just had to bat his pretty eyelashes and tell you the right words for you to accept the position you're currently in

Meaning split in half by Kise, as he lets out the prettiest moans ever, like there's not a whole crowd on the over side of the wall

It doesn't take long for people to notice what you two are doing

But that doesn't stop Kise, oh no haha

He's a showman of sorts, so it doesn't bother him that to the surrounding, it is clear as day that he's fucking you senseless

Only when someone actually shows up to tell you to stop does he care

And not because he minds being seen in such position

Mainly because you seem very embarrassed that you've got caught

Kise would argue that you are at your hottest when your face's flushed, hair disheveled, body contorsioned to accomodate him in between your thighs, but that's Kise's very biased opinion

To a stranger, it's a rather scandalous sight so it's very likely that you'll hate being in such predicament

Lucky for you, Kise talks the way out of trouble for the two of you

But you still urge him to leave the place and go to somewhere we're it's actually acceptable to have sex

(He loves you so much and is so needy for you though, he can't even stand the drive back home, he'll go back deep into you in the car itself <3)

AOMINE

Alright for this one, if you're wondering how you ended up having public sex, the answer is rather simple

Daiki and you are just super horny and can't keep it in your pants (sorry 😔)

It's really in the heat of the moment y'all figured that nothing mattered

Not even the fact that you're giving him head in a very public space

He's just so tempting, you know!!

And he's been looking at your lips for the past hour, so you should have known that he'd end up begging for you to suck his dick

So you just found the first place where you could get on your knees and didn't hesitate twice before getting him out of his pants

Now here you are, sloppily giving him the best head of his life with a bunch of strangers around

I'd like to say that neither of you are exhibitionist but this situation is somewhat super hot

(Again, y'all are just super horny)

Anyways, doesn't take long for you two to get caught and nearly cause a heart attack to whoever sees you

Thing is!! Aomine has no intention to stop

You neither, by the way

You're both on a mission to make him cum so you're not stopping

Instead, you pick up the pace, till he finally snaps and cum down your throat

Swallowing it all because you shouldn't leave any trace!

Once that's done, you do apologize to your surrounding

Takes a couple of hours for you two to realize what you've done and that it's lowkey a public offense

Promise that it won't happen again but Aomine really can't help wanting you anytime and anywhere :)

[pantpisser9000]

Combined together, Chapter 7: One mark, then another.

“C’mon, Tweak!” Kwazii begged, “Just for a test drive, matey!” Tweak, hands on her hips, reluctantly shook her head. “Last time y’ took ‘er out on a test drive I had to spend a whole day repairin’ er.” 

“I be careful this time, I swear, matey!”

“Mhm. And that’s what y’ said last time, Kwazii.” 

“Twwwwwwwwwwweakkkkkkkkkkkkkk please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please ple-” 

Tweak threw her hands in the air, “Fine, fine.” she relented, but as she walked over to the lever –Kwazii already jumping in the GUP by this point–she whipped out her pointer finger. “Don’t wreck her completely, please. Thanks.” she says, and Kwazii holds up a thumbs-up, and Tweak pulls the lever.

The GUP B, with Kwazii inside it, obviously, rocketed out of the Octopod. Tweak let out a heavy sigh, leaning against the panel. “He’s gonna crash.” she muttered. 

Kwazii, hands on the wheel, sped around the bright ocean, sunlight filtering through the salty water he was currently stirring up with his fast, bright orange, shark-like GUP. His GUP. He grinned at the thought–it was nice to have something that was his, and that he knew could be repaired (even if it was to Tweak’s dismay). Making loop-de-loops and doing flips and narrowly avoiding rocks, Kwazii was having a grand ol’ time steering the GUP B through every twist and turn, doing any and every trick he could think of. He was having so much fun he didn’t realize how far away from the Octopod he’d gotten. Coming up on what looked like a small island, Kwazii decided a narrow turn would be a good challenge, a sudden jolt to the left. And that was what he did as he sped towards the island, making a sudden turn to the left. His eyes widened when he saw was right in his path now–a whale. He couldn’t just ram into it, so in the spur of the moment, he made a sudden turn again. Just upwards this time, launching him out of the water backwards, and Kwazii’s head thunked against the glass of the GUP B’s top window.

“Yeow..” he muttered, twisting himself so that he was now upright, sitting on the glass. He was surrounded by wet sand. He grit his teeth. Pressing the button on his helmet’s collar, he spoke. “Kwazii to Octonauts, Kwazii t’ Octonauts,” he said, though he was only met with static. He was too far away. Leaning back, he looked up at the GUP B’s controls. Pressing the radio button, he spoke again. “Kwazii t’ Octonauts, Kwazii t’ Octonauts?” he asked. Just more static. He groaned, leaning back against the cool glass. He honestly had no idea on how to get out of this predicament he was now in. He knew he had to make some sort of plan, though. Even if that was usually up to the Captain, not him. Kwazii just did the dangerous stunts and did things that needed to be done quickly. Still, he thought. He wasn’t sure how long it’d take for the Octonauts to find him, and… he was a little thirsty. His first thought was to try to open up the bottom, but he figured that might not be the best idea. Because, first of all, Tweak’d be pissed, and second of all, he didn’t know if he could, anyways. Especially without the help of Barnacle’s strength. Until, he remembered–the window could open. Maybe not the best idea, but… he was already getting restless, and he doubted he was lodged too deep. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the button on his helmet and the bubble like glass formed over his head. And then, he pressed the button for the windshield, and the sand only moved a little. He honestly had expected it to pour in–but he supposed since it was wet, it stayed in place (besides the slow inching that it was doing) better for some reason. He didn’t question for long, though. He wasn’t the type to do so, honestly. So, he dived into the sand, and he was never more thankful for his helmet. Swimming (?) upwards (hopefully) through the sand, it was hard to do so given how thick it was, but he managed to burst out. He glanced behind him. The GUP B, flipped over onto its front, was lodged in the sand behind him. That was good, it wasn’t buried or anything. And, it somehow didn’t seem too damaged, which he was glad about. He didn’t want Tweak to ban him from driving his favorite GUP, after all. 

Still, he was stranded on an island. Trying his radio again, he was met with static. He supposed that it wasn’t just the sand stopping the signal–it was the distance, too. His first thought was to try to get the GUP B out of the sand and try there, but especially given how it might not work, he decided against it for now. It was getting late, the sun was beginning to set. What did he need to survive again? Oh, right. 

Food, shelter, water, and fire. He knew there was some emergency supplies in the GUP B–some water, a glow stick… Matches too, probably. No food, to his knowledge, though. He groaned. He knew he should’ve brought some fish biscuits! But, he needed to figure out how to get the GUP B out of its place, lodged in the wet sand of this (seemingly deserted) island. He’d need a shovel or something, obviously. He looked around–the leaves on the trees were kinda.. Cup-shaped.. Though it wouldn’t be able to scoop sand, especially not wet sand. There were some coconuts. He could try throwing one against a rock and see if it cracks open. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea that totally wouldn’t go badly. He flicked his claws out, shimmying off his octo-boots so those claws could be released too. Walking over to one of the many palm trees, he grinned, and sunk his fingernail-claws into the trunk. And then he sunk the next one in, but higher. And he propelled himself upward with the grip from one of his feet, grabbing onto a higher spot on the tree. He continued with this little cycle until he was near to the top, leaves just barely not clouding his vision. Steadying himself, breathing in, and then he jumped, grabbing onto one of the coconuts–it only took a moment for it to rip off from its growing place and plummet to the ground along with Kwazii himself. He groaned, laying in the warm sand. He grasped his head, moaning, and he got up shakily. The coconut hadn’t broken from the fall, unfortunately. Of course, Kwazii didn’t give up. 

He yoinked the ball off the ground and sauntered over to a particularly sharp rock, and then he raised his hand, coconut in his grip, above his head. “Arr!” he yelled as he chucked it against the thing. It was at that moment that he learned the fault in his plan as the coconut hit him smack-dab in the face, causing him to stumble backwards and fall back into the grainy sand. He mewled. “Yow..” rubbing his temples and sitting up, he looked at the coconut–or rather, the two halves of the coconut. “Well I’ll be a sea monkey’s uncle..” he muttered, looking at the split coconut. He grasped one half, and looked around. “Now me just need a stick…” he muttered to himself, standing up.

He put back on his Octo-boots off the ground, and taking a glance around, it wasn’t hard for him to find a washed up piece of driftwood, and he grabbed it, attached it with some kelp and other suspicious methods, and he had his own (albeit crappy) little shovel. And now it was time to start digging.

He scooped up heaps of sand, forming a rather large pile, until he could successfully unlodge his beloved GUP, and flip it back over into its rightful position–upwards. Reaching inside, pressing on one of the panels, he grabbed the emergency supplies. Sitting down on the sand criss-crossed, he opened it, and it had what he expected. Clean water, glowsticks, matches, and a seaweed snack bar. He was kinda hungry, so he ripped open the seaweed snack’s biodegradable packaging and chomped. He figured the Octonauts would find him soon, right? Either way, after finishing his snack, he looked back at the sky. The sun was getting closer to going to sleep–and Kwazii didn’t have shelter. Besides the GUP B itself. He could just hide out in the GUP, but he didn’t really want to risk sinking back into the sand. Taking a quick glance around, he decided to head into the brush, GUP B in tow. Stringing together some kelp or seaweed or something, which he tied around his most beloved GUP, he tugged it along with him through the palm forest. He wasn’t really sure if it could be considered a forest, actually? He shrugged to himself, towing it along, before he noticed something. He grinned, canine teeth as prominent as ever. He lucked out this time–a cave. He let go of his seaweed leash and rushed in, taking a glance. It looked empty, at least from his first observation. Going back for the GUP, he dragged it into the cave, (and grimaced at the noise of metal against the rock–Tweak would be really annoyed when he got back from the scratchings) and he sat down, tired out. Just in time, too. The sun had set, and he was tired. One night couldn’t hurt. 

***

He groaned when he got up–his back hurt from sleeping on the hard, pebble-littered ground of the cave he was residing in. Yawning as he got up, doing some stretches, (not unlike the ones that like. Actual cats do) and eventually standing up, just a little light shone through the cave. Kwazii sighed. The Octonauts hadn’t found him yet? That was… odd. He figured they’d come faster, but maybe they were choked  up with an unfortunate circumstance. A thought or two of worry pierced through, thinking things like what if they don’t want to find me? But he shook those away. He was pretty useful, most of the time. Though, he knew not to trust that they would come at the same time–he knew he couldn’t trust them because of things like this.

Shaking those thoughts of doubt away, he decided to focus on surviving. He’d already eaten his only food, and he was hungry for some breakfast. He debated having some coconut juice, but given his lack of luck when getting the first fruit and the fact it wouldn’t be all that filling, he decided against it. He couldn’t eat fish, obviously. Partially because he didn’t have a fishing rod and mostly because it would be incredibly immoral (and a bit ironic considering his job). No coconuts, no fish… seaweed was on the table, wasn’t it? He knew there was a lot of it. He’d eaten seaweed salad before when he was traveling with the Blackclaw pirates, and it wasn’t the best (in his (that he considered completely correct) opinion), though it would satiate his hunger. 

Thinking about it, he was fairly certain he could just munch on it straight off the beach, actually. If seaweed salad was just seaweed cut up and put into a bowl basically, couldn’t he just…chomp? No harm in trying… he thought to himself. Giving his GUP a loving pat, he walked out of the cave, and back onto the beach. 

There was quite a bit of seaweed, unsurprisingly, lying washed up on the beach. He walked over, picking up one of the slippery greens, and dropped it into his gaping mouth. He immediately spit it out as soon as he crunched. “Eugh,” he muttered, dusting off his tongue, “Damned sand…” he looked at the piece of seaweed he just spit out. He wasn’t going to go baby-bird style and just try again with that piece, and instead walked to another part of the beach. He squatted down, picking up a piece of seaweed. Sand was stuck to it. He tried dusting it off, but that didn’t really work. Looking at the briny sea, he figured that he could just… wash it… in there. 

Wading into the water, slimy seaweed in hand, he got up to about his knees when he bended down, washing off the seaweed. Lifting the now sopping seaweed out of the water, he held it stretched out with his hands, not unlike how you would hold a piece of cloth you’re squeezing the water out of (He wasn’t doing that, though his hands were in a similar position ). And he bit, right in the middle, and he chewed. It didn’t taste all that great, and he dropped the remainder of the seaweed that was still in his grasp back into its watery home. Trying his best to chew, he squeezed his eyes shut. 

Ew ew ew ew ew ew-

He eventually swallowed it down. It was gross, grosser than the salad that one time. It didn’t fill him up completely, though he’d lost his appetite at that point. That was one problem solved, at least. Walking out of the salty sea, he heard the smashing of sand under his blue octo-boots. He figured that since seaweed wasn’t exactly the tastiest, (nor the most filling) he could try looking for different food? Or water, actually. He had fresh water with him, though he knew it wasn’t a lot. Just two bottles. And, if he wasn’t able to find any other food, that’d make it worse–the salt ingrained within the seaweed just made him thirstier. 

Wandering back into the brush, he glanced around. And suddenly, he heard something new. His cat ears twitched, listening in. He cupped his ear with his hand, and he grinned. “Rushing water!” he exclaimed. Trying to keep in his excitement, he shut his mouth and listened in. It took a little of wandering, but he eventually pinpointed where the sound was coming from, and after a little of careful listening, he got closer and closer until–

A beautiful lake–or pond? Honestly, Kwazii didn’t know all of those terms. Whatever it was, there was a waterfall gushing water into it. Kwazii leaned down, looking at the crystal-clear water. He bended down, lying himself across the muddy ground. He didn’t care much about getting the wet dirt lathered on his shirt, he just wasn’t the type. Sticking his tongue out, he lapped the water. Not bad. He thought to himself, standing up and attempting to dust off his muddy shirt, to no avail.

He wiped off his mouth, and glanced around. He didn’t notice any food. Until, some small little berries caught his eye–he didn’t know what type, but they looked familiar, for some reason. A normal person would be nervous about them being poisonous, but Kwazii? He was daring enough to take that damn risk, and honestly none of his fellow crew members would. Peso would likely not even try, or even just end up recognizing them, and eat/not eat them accordingly. The Captain might try it if it looked okay, but only if desperate enough, and would only let the other members try when he was sure it was safe. Tweak might try, actually. Though, only if she truly, really, had to–plus, she usually had at least four or five extra carrots on her. It was less likely to come to fruition for her. Shellington wouldn’t even try or, like Peso, might recognize it and eat/not eat accordingly. The Professor would probably pull a book out or just remember and know whatever type of berry it was, and would act accordingly. 

The point was, Kwazii was the only one out of the octonauts who was actually daring enough to dive right damn into it, and go ahead and eat those berries without a second thought. And that was exactly what he would do–as soon as he got across this pond. Stepping back, getting into a running pose, and gritting his teeth, Kwazii ran. And he flew across the pond, (his cat-bits certainly helped) and his momentum ended just at the ridge, and his chin hit right there. His body was plunged into the water, and he squirmed in the liquid, splashing about and gripping onto the muddy banks desperately. His fingernails, that now were claws, gripping on the bank. He managed to shimmy himself up on the banks, scooching across the ground. He was, surely, coated in mud by now. He pushed himself up, standing up. He looked over at the berries. Walking over, he plucked one off the bush. Popping it into his mouth, he chewed. Kinda sour, though bearable. Plus, it was certainly better than seaweed.

So, he popped a few in, chewing up berry after berry as he sat on the ground. He looked down at himself, covered in mud, and he just shrugged to himself. If the Octonauts came, he’d get new clothes. And if not, this wouldn’t be the only time he had lived in dirty clothes. He was… full enough, now. So, he picked off another bit of berries, took off his hat, put the berries in, and held it in a way that his hand was covering it. Walking further back this time, he made a mad dash and jumped across, this time just barely making it over, but still tripping and face-planting into the mud. Fortunately, the berries were safe, though. 

Standing up from the mud again, he took a deep breath, and walked back to the cave, sauntering on. He snacked on a couple of the berries while he walked, and when he got back, he was tired. He placed his cap down in the compartment of the GUP B. Then, he looked at the side. Since the rest of the Octonauts weren’t probably coming, he figured he should at least track time. And since it was basically the end of the day… he flicked out the claw on his pointer finger, and pressed it against the metal side of the shark-like mini-submarine. And he scratched, his ears pressed down to the side of his head. It wasn’t an enjoyable noise, though. Claw against metal. One tally mark. 

Hopping into the GUP, he curled up inside. He was tired, after all. Just a sleepy guy. And so, he and his sopping wet, muddy clothes, sat inside of the orange GUP and Kwazii promptly fell asleep. 

***

The Captain was worried. Kwazii left around 12ish hours ago. His helmet’s tracking seemed to be out of range, and the GUP B’S either broken or somehow also out of range. Tweak hadn’t really been paying attention to where Kwazii was going, and the routes didn’t save, (A feature Tweak promised to implement later) so they had practically no way of knowing where he went. And knowing how unpredictable the ginger was, it would be hard to guess. Barnacles knew he had a history of running away, but the last time he’d done that, it’d been with his previous pirate crew. Who were bad people. He knew for a fact that the Octonauts, Kwazii included, were not bad people. They’d all joined for one reason or another, but all they’d done so far was some exploring, rescuing, and protecting. Plus, Kwazii enjoyed it. Barnacles had pretended not to notice when he grinned at the food and how quickly he scarfed it down because he was used to having to fight for his food and get it as speedily as possible because otherwise he might not get much food at all, and now he didn’t have to worry about that. The vegimals always cooked an overabundance, anyways (which was useful as everyone always had a fish biscuit or two on hand, or at least in the GUPS). Barnacles noticed how happy Kwazii was when he learned he had his own room and not just sleeping on a likely falling apart hammock. He noticed that Kwazii was so reckless with the GUP B because he knew it’d just get fixed up again, (despite Tweak’s annoyance to the fact) and that he seemed protective over it already. The Captain was observant;it was part of his job, so he’d noticed all these things. 

He noticed things about all of his crew. Peso, for example; really cared about his family and just others in general, was very passionate about his job, was nervous all the time but was easily encouraged by Barnacles (or just anyone, though he noticed he tended to be the most motivated when it came to him. Maybe it was the Captain status, maybe it was something else,) and he got spooked easily. He hid behind Barnacles (or Kwazii on occasion) when he got scared. 

Barnacles had a slight suspicion that Peso might have some father-related issues, though that was just a guess. Either way, the point was, Barnacles was observant. And he knew Kwazii well enough by this point to know that he wouldn’t just leave, especially not in the way he did. Making it known to Tweak that he was leaving? Odd. The fact that most of Kwazii’s belongings (besides his spyglass and the clothes he’d been wearing) were still in his room, even his rum and catnip? (Barnacles knew he would’ve brought those if he was trying to ‘escape’ for whatever reason, he’d mentioned that he had brought those when running away from his old crew). Plus, even if Kwazii was stupid, he was smart enough to bring more food and water than what was just in the emergency supplies. 

So, because of all of this, Barnacles knew Kwazii wasn’t intentionally leaving them behind. He was probably stranded somewhere, if anything. He just hoped he was alright. 

That morning, right when he woke up earlier than usual, (before becoming a Octonaut he had survived off five or six hours of sleep, and now he got around eight to twelve, but today he was going back to his old schedule) he got changed, walked into the kitchen, quickly ate some fish biscuits, (as well as tucking some into his pocket) and walked down into the launch bay. He’d asked Tweak to prepare the GUP A for him, so he didn’t have to wake her up early. When he glanced over into her room, he chuckled. She was passed out on the floor, game controller in her hand while text saying “WASTED” was on her screen. He peeked back over at the GUP A, and suddenly, he saw Peso, launching out of one of the tubes. “H-hey, Captain!” he said, and Barnacles was mildly confused, before remembering he’d announced this yesterday. They’d been looking for a little while, and when he couldn't find Kwazii after a hot minute, Peso had practically demanded he get some sleep (“Captain, I’m a medic, I know what’s best f-for you. You have to get some slee-” “Peso, I appreciate it, but-” “No, Captain,” and Peso had tugged on his sleeve, and Barnacles reluctantly turned the GUP around. Sure, he could easily overpower Peso, but he was right. He needed sleep). He’d told everyone he’d be getting up early to search, and he didn’t expect anyone else to, though they were welcome to join. Seemed like Peso was the only one to take up his offer. 

“If- No, when, we find Kwazii, he might be hurt.” Peso explained, though it wasn’t necessary. Barnacles knew that was certainly part of the reason, though he also knew it was because he genuinely cared about Kwazii and wanted to help with the search as well. So, Barnacles let Peso into the GUP, and pulled the lever. Peso (very reluctantly and surprisingly steadily, though the Captain knew he shouldn’t be surprised. Peso had literally done surgery–of course he was steady) drove the GUP A through, and then Barnacles turned on his helmet, swam down through the launch bay, pressed the big red ‘close/open’ button right inside of the mouth, and quickly swam out before it closed. He climbed into the GUP A, taking over driving. It was still early, so it was a little dark. Barnacles noticed how scared Peso was–it didn’t surprise him that he didn’t like the dark. Made sense with the information he’d gathered about the penguin-hybrid. Either way, the Captain decided to go in the complete opposite direction that he had gone the day before–sure, it was possible he hadn’t noticed the GUP lodged somewhere, but he didn’t see a bright orange shark-like metal submarine anywhere, so he figured that covering more ground would be better. He was driving relatively fast, surveying the area. Peso was looking out one of the back windows, looking. Barnacles just hoped that Kwazii was on land, or a air pocket, or something.. And that he hadn’t already.. 

He shook his head. Something told him Kwazii was too daring and motivated to just… give up. It wasn’t in his nature. While he didn’t believe in the supernatural, he still felt as if.. Well, he didn’t think Kwazii was a ghost. He chuckled. Kwazii’d somehow break that and become a ghost despite the odds, just to spook people. Be a little prankster. And Barnacles hadn’t come across any random pranks. So, therefore, Kwazii couldn’t be dead. He cruised through the salty seas, until he saw a glimpse of orange. Stopping the GUP A in its tracks, he let the helmet incase his helmet, putting on a air tank. Peso looked at him in confusion. “I believe I saw something orange,” he explained, and Peso nodded. “I-I’ll come with. Incase he’s hurt.” Peso said, and the Captain let him tow behind him as he splashed into the water. He waited a moment for Peso to dip into the water, and once Peso had made the plunge, they swam downwards. 

The bottom of this part of the sea was rocky, some urchins. The Captain lifted up some bigger rocks, and Peso just scanned the area. Barnacles figured that maybe Kwazii was in radio distance, now. Pressing the button on his collar, “Captain Barnacles to Lieutenant Kwazii, Barnacles to Kwazii, are you in the area?” he asked. He was met with static. He took his hand off the button and shook his head. “Let’s go back into the GUP, Peso,” he said, and Peso nodded. They swam up, clamored into the GUP A, and began to drive along again. Peso, looking out the side windows, Barnacles looking out the front one, scanning the entire area. Neither of them saw anything in the murky water. Eventually, they stopped for a quick lunch break. Barnacles sat on the ground beside Peso. He was criss-crossed, Peso sitting on his own knees. Barnacles pulled out the bag of fish biscuits, and laid them out. He heard the static of the radio picking up, then. Glancing back, he ran over. “This is Captain Barnacles,” he said through the GUP A’s microphone. “Heya Cap, this is Tweak. Just lettin’ ya know that Shellington and Dashi are going out too–they’ll be goin’ in a separate direction t’ cover more ground, though.” she said. “How is it goin’ for y’all?” Tweak asked. 

“Unfortunately, not all that well. I thought we had found him, but we didn’t. Must’ve been a fish, I suppose.” the Captain said. “That ain’t good. I hope y’all find him,” Tweak said, and Barnacles could hear her crunch on a carrot. “Good luck. Over ‘n out, Cap,” she continued. Barnacles sighed. “Over and out.” and the transmission ended. Barnacles then came to a realization. He pressed the radio button. “This is Captain Barnacles to Octopod, specifically Dashi,” he said, and he heard Tweak’s voice. “Huh? Oh, uh- They haven’t gone in the GUP E yet, Cap’n.” she said. “Excellent. Can you get Dashi for me?” he asked, and was silent for a moment, and then agreed. “S…sure, Captain.” she said, and he could hear her shouting. 

“This is Dashi, Captain. What do you need?” she asked. “Tweak, do we know how much time Kwazii was… driving around?” he asked. “Um, no. But, I know the GUP B would’ve ran out of battery in at least three hours after the fact. Why?” she asked. “How fast can the GUP B go?” he asked. “Pretty fast. I’m sure I have it written down somewhere, why, Cap?” she asked again. “Dashi, do you think –after Tweak gets how fast it can go–get a radius of where he could possibly be?” he asked. “Oh- of course, Captain. I don’t know how I didn’t think about that. I’ll get right on it,” she said. Barnacles nodded. “Excellent. Thank you, Dashi and Tweak,” and he finished, “Over and out.” 

“Over ‘n out, Cap!” and the transmission ended once more. Barnacles walked back over to Peso, picking up a fish biscuit and tossing it into his mouth. “I hope he isn’t hurt,” Peso muttered, nibbling at a biscuit. “I’m sure he’s just alright, Peso. Kwazii’s… He’s good at worming his way out of bad situations.” Barnacles said, and Peso nodded. “Still. If h-he, uh, crashed, he could have a broken bone or a concussion or-” he was stopped by Barnacles. “It’s okay, Peso. I’m sure he’s fine,” Barnacles said, and Peso meekly nodded. “And, even if he isn’t, you’re a fantastic medic. The best of the best, I’m sure,” and Peso tried to interrupt but the Captain simply did not let him. “So, if he is hurt, you’ll be able to patch him up in a jiffy.” he said. Peso nodded, with a little more confidence this time, and finished his fish biscuit. 

Barnacles gobbled down a couple more before returning to steering the ship, letting Peso clean up the remainder. Dashi sent them the radius, and they were getting to the edge of it, and Barnacles started going along the rim. Unfortunately, when it was getting late enough for the lights of the GUP A to be required, they still hadn’t found Kwazii. Barnacles looked at the barely-awake Peso in the back of the GUP, and took a glance at the battery. It wasn’t low by any means, but they would need to start heading back. 

As they were driving back, Peso fell asleep, leaning against the wall. Barnacles was obviously disappointed that they hadn’t found Kwazii yet, but he knew they would. They had to. As he cruised into the mouth of the Octopod, Tweak greeted them. “No luck?” she asked. Barnacles nodded. “Not a sign of him.” Tweak frowned, “I hope he’s alright,” she said. The Captain agreed. He scooped Peso up in his arms, and Tweak giggled. It was a little funny, with the size difference and all. This huge, towering man, carrying a ridiculously small adult man. Barnacles carried him to Peso’s bedroom, and laid him in his bed, tucking him in and switching out his usual hat for his nightcap. It was just to be polite, really. 

He clicked off the lights as he left, mumbling, “Goodnight, Peso,” and he heard a little muttering back that he presumed was just sleep talking. He sighed as he exited–he was really hoping they’d find Kwazii. Deciding to go straight to bed as well, he did his nightly routine, (ate a couple fish biscuits in place of dinner, though) which was a schedule he liked sticking to when there wasn’t something going on:

1: Eat dinner (Fish biscuits, today)

2: Do a small workout

3: Take a ridiculously quick, freezing cold shower

4: Brush teeth

5: Change

6: Sleep

So, his fish biscuits were finished. He didn’t go all out, instead just opting for some sit ups, some push ups, and some pull ups. He did about 30 of each before deciding to take his nightly shower, finishing up in record time: four minutes and twenty-three seconds. After he finished, he speedily brushed his teeth, set his alarm for earlier then the usual one once more, and changed into his pajamas, putting on his nightcap, and tucked himself into bed after flicking off the lights. 

Kwazii woke up again. He remembered where he was–curled up in the GUP B, stranded on an island. It was the second day–the others still hadn’t found him yet. He straightened his back, cracking it with his hands running down it. He pulled out his cap from the area in the GUP–the berries were still inside. He popped a few into his mouth in place of breakfast. He was still kinda hungry, but he decided instead of eating the rest of the berries he’d search for more food. That way, even if he came back empty-handed, he’d still have some food. 

Securing his hat and his only food inside, he got up. He looked down at himself. His shirt was still lathered in mud, and his pants weren’t the cleanest either. He pulled some of his hair closer to him–it wasn’t the cleanest either. It was quite dirty, actually. Not surprising, though he wasn’t looking forward to taking a shower, especially not being so thorough. He took showers almost every day, though he forgot a lot. And they were usually as short as possible while still making him cleaner–instead, he opted to use hefty amounts of deodorant most of the time instead of showering more thoroughly. Wandering around the island, he didn’t see much. Rocks. Palm trees with coconuts he couldn’t crack without his skull cracking along with them. Shells. Bushes. Grass. Nothing interesting, (at least by Kwazii’s standards) and certainly not anything he could reasonably consume. He figured to go back to that water–try to clean off a little bit, try to scrounge around for more food.

So, he trudged over to that area, (a branch smacked him in the face while he was walking more than once, but that was irrelevant) and he walked over to the bank of the pond or lake or whatever. Leaning down, his hands gripping onto it, he leaned down. And he supposed that wasn’t the best idea as his arms weren’t as spread out that time, and he ended up plunging into the clear, cool depths of the water. Coughing as he emerged from the liquid, he looked around. A little fish-girl (mermaid, basically) popped out from the water’s surface, though quickly dived back down. I wonder if there be food in the water, Kwazii thought to himself. He didn’t have his air tank with him, so he decided to revisit that later if he had to. Instead opting to climb out of the water, and searching for food on land. He shimmeyed his way onto the bank, breathing heavily. He walked over to the berry bush. He only could find one or two–the rest had been taken by himself or by presumably other creatures. 

After a little more scrounging, he found some nuts. Not the best food, but he supposed it’d do for lunch. He figured he was in an area that was warm all year-round, so he wouldn’t have to worry about winter, (he, at this point, had figured the Octonauts had abandoned him–he lied to himself about not being sad about this fact, and how he expected it) at least hopefully. He was pretty sure he was in what the pirates called the ‘warm zone’, (apparently it was called the.. Egg-waiter or something? He didn’t care) and he figured food would be growing year-round. He ate the nuts, and it wasn’t very filling, though he figured it was good for now. It would be fine to satisfy him for the moment. 

He also was itching to leave, though. This was part of preparations to do so–get as much food as he could, then figure out how to charge the GUP B, bring some other stuff, and leave. Surely, it was a good idea. He’d be able to live out his pirate dreams once more! (He ignored the thoughts at the back of his head thinking about how much he’d miss his crew and how he still loved being an Octonaut and-)  and he continued to gather things. He wasn’t going to leave all that soon, (and totally not because he was waiting, still, because he was hoping so badly that the others would come back for him-) likely in a week or so. Or at least he’d start building a raft of some sorts in a week. He was really just wandering this island, and he only managed to find some more nuts which he just ate immediately. The place was barren of actual… food. He might have to go back to seaweed, and he almost barfed at the thought. 

…though he supposed if he cooked it, it likely wouldn’t be so horrible. He wasn’t the best chef, but he knew how to make a fire and he was sure he could figure out making seaweed all crunchy and nice, like how that seaweed bar was or the seaweed chips were! He raced back to the cave, grabbing his lighter and his makeshift shovel he’d made prior. Walking over, he used the shovel to dig a hole in the sand, gathered some rocks to put around it. He took the coconut off the stick and scooped up some water, just in case. Getting some kindling, (dried grass and twigs, mainly) he threw it into his makeshift fire pit. Grabbing a few bigger steps and using the ti-pi method, he (albeit badly) made his starter. He also found three other sticks–two Y shaped ones to stick in the ground, and one more to put over. It took a minute, but he yoinked some seaweed (and washed it to make sure there wasn’t any sand) and then he lit his fire with the flick of the lighter. The fire crackled, and Kwazii grinned in accomplishment. Sure, it was kinda hard to screw this up, given the lighter, but he was still proud of himself! Lying the seaweed over the stick on the fire, he watched it crispin and cook. It actually smelled decent.

Eventually, after a little bit of waiting, he figured it was good enough. He touched a piece, and immediately slinked away- “YEOW!” Obviously, it burnt him. Most things that are hot do, after all. He dumped the coconut water on the fire, and then when that didn’t entirely put it out, he scooped some sand onto it. It was gone within a flash after that. He waited, impatiently so, (tapping his thighs, pacing around, doing a few backflips, stretching, humming a tune, ect.) and he eventually waited long enough to eat the seaweed. 

It was crunchy, which was what he wanted, but still tasted off. Certainly not like that bar or usual seaweed snacks, at least. Still, it worked. He ate a few pieces, then he was done with a surprisingly hefty amount of leftovers. He washed out the coconut, and put the remaining crunch-ified seaweed into the coconut, and the lighter back into his pocket. He looked up at the sky. The sun was already setting, and he walked back to his cave (he was thinking of it as ‘his’ cave now, given how nobody else had claimed it, to his knowledge) and ducked under the shelter of the rocky hole. He swung out his claw, and made another tally on his GUP. He wondered how many he’d end up making. 

***

Tweak leaned against the wall, crunching a carrot. The Captain was talking about searching for Kwazii some more. Of course, she was worried, but at the back of her mind, she wondered if Kwazii wanted to leave? Kwazii always seemed like he was holding something back, like he was hiding something. What was he hiding? Tweak didn’t know. She knew one of his deepest secrets, being that he was trans, (even if he didn’t know that–it was a complicated situation) though he didn’t seem to care all that much about hiding that. And, she could only assume, his whole pirate past thing. He didn’t seem to like talking about it besides those stupid monster stories, and that didn’t really give much info.

Maybe someone had found out something horrible he’d done and he’d ran off out of fear? It didn’t sound like him, (nor did Tweak think he was the type to do something that bad) but she supposed it was an unlikely possibility. He also could’ve just wrecked the GUP B and was stranded somewhere–that was the more likely possibility. He was pretty good at driving when he wasn’t been all bonkers, though Tweak had seen how excited he was to get in that GUP. He was just a little too excitable, and boom, ended up stranded on an island or something (or at least Tweak hoped it was an island, and not the bottom of the damn sea). The Captain then said something that perked her interest. “Since we haven’t found Kwazii for um.. Almost five whole days now, everyone is required to go out and search, besides Inkling and the Vegimals.” He looked to Tweak. “Can you prepare the GUPS, Tweak?” he asked, and she nodded, tossing the green bits of her carrot into her mouth. “Sure thing, Cap. Faster than you can say buncha munchy crunchy carrots–I just needa know which ones, is all.” 

The Captain cleared his throat. “I’ll be taking the GUP C,” he then looked to Peso. “I-I’ll go in the GUP E, Captain,” he said. Dashi spoke up, then. “Me and Shellington will go in the GUP A.” she said. Tweak nodded. “I’ll take the GUP D, then.” she launched herself down the Octo-chute, and re-entered into the launch bay. She got the GUPS prepared quickly, and of course the Captain and Peso were first down. Dashi and Shellington followed soon after, along with Tunip. Tweak left herself in the GUP D a little after those three exited. 

All of the other team members had established where they were going, so Tweak went in a direction nobody was. And, nobody had gone that way yet, either. As she cruised through the salty sea, she caught a glimpse of something orange near the bottom. She quickly stopped the GUP D, and jumped out. She swam down to the ocean floor, looked around. “Nothin…” she muttered to herself, sighing. Part of her was glad that wasn’t Kwazii, though. Because if he had been stuck there that entire time… his air would’ve ran out long ago. Tweak hopped back in the yellow, crab-like GUP, and decided to move a couple bigger rocks with its ‘arms’, just for good measure. Once again, there was nothing, so she decided to keep going forward. The water was empty besides a few fish hybrids swimming by–just nothing. She decided to take a little snack break, driving the GUP D up to the surface of the water and retracting the glass shield. She leaned back, ran her hand through her hair. Yoinking a carrot, she took a bite and looked out over the horizon. She saw nothing but water stretching on for miles–as far as she could tell, at least. Taking a bit out of her carrot again and tossing the greens in too, as she chewed she got a little sad. Where the hell was Kwazii? 

Sure, he was reckless and stupid, but they should’ve found him by now, right? A thought crossed her mind, what if he’s buried underneath the rubble and y’all are too lat- but she shook that away. That was absolutely NOT the way to think at the moment–she knew she had to keep up hope. For the crew, too. She mumbled, “Kwazii, wherever y’ are…” and she leaned back. “Just… get back ‘ere. Give a sign, or somethin.” just as she said that, she saw a spurt of water. Raising a brow, she wondered. She wasn’t really religious or superstitious, though….maybe that wish had come true? She quickly resealed the GUP D, and dove back under the water. 

She gasped–a giant whale hybrid. She didn’t know the type, (Shellington certainly would, but Tweak did not) though she throttled full speed ahead. Luckily, the whale didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry, as she swam pretty slowly. Tweak stopped right in front of the whale, turning on the microphone. “Heya there–” she said into the mic, and the whale slowed. She tilted her head to the side. “Hello, there,” she replied. Tweak looked at the whale–very gorgeous. She had barnacles on her back, short flowy hair, and was a dark grey-blue ish color with a light ombre near her torso. “What do you need, small one?” she asked. Tweak gulped, pressing the microphone button again. “I uh, was just wonderin’, have you seen…a orange GUP?” she asked. The whale looked confused. “GUP?’ she asked. Tweak blinked. “Sorry, submarine. Looks like a shark.” 

“Ah, that sounds more … familiar. Yes, I saw a small orange creature almost crash into me.” she said. Tweak blinked. “D-did he- uh, crash on the bottom?” she asked. The whale shook her massive head. “I don’t believe so. It went up and I did not see it come back down.” she said. Tweak furrowed her brow. “... did he go up in this area?” she asked, and the whale woman shook her head once more. “He did not. It was..” she pointed with her giant flipper-arm. “Somewhere in that direction, I believe. I think there was a island nearby.” she said, and Tweak grinned. Kwazii was hopefully on that island, and hopefully fine. “Thank ya!” she said, and the whale just nodded. Tweak pressed the radio button. “Tweak t’ Captain Barnacles, Tweak t’ Cap.” she said, noticing the whale swimming away. The Captain came through quickly. “Barnacles here, what is it Tweak?” he asked. She smiled as she spoke, “I might have an idea of where Kwazii could be, Cap.” she said. “Can you send me the coordinates, Tweak?” he asked. “Yup, in a minute.” she responded. “Good work, Tweak. Ending transmission,” and the Captain cut off the connection. Tweak pressed on the map in the GUP, and she zoomed out. An island was just a little ways away, so she pressed on it and sent it out to everyone. She just hoped Kwazii was actually there. 

***

Kwazii had laid down on the sandy sea shore, (tongue twister moment) looking at the sky. There wasn’t much else to do. He had food and water. He was just tired. And the Sun was as nice and warm as ever, and the sand wasn’t too hot on his skin. He’d taken off his boots at this point. He just closed his eyes, wondering if the Octonauts were searching for him. Because surely they would’ve found him by now, right? He sighed. 

He was getting hungry. He slipped back on his Octo-boots and walked back to his cave, grabbing some of the dried seaweed and dropping it in his mouth. He still had a lot left–he’d made an unholy amount the night before out of pure boredom, so he had food for a while. Even if it was kinda gross. He looked at the GUP B, and since he figured that the Octonauts probably weren’t coming for him at this point, he’d make another tally. Grating his claw on the metal, the fifth tally was added. Honestly, it made the GUP B look pretty damn cool. And, now, he realized he should start coming up with ways to leave. 

He’d been waiting long enough. He knew how to make a simple raft, though he knew that likely wouldn’t hold the GUP B’S weight. He still wanted to take that with him–he couldn’t just abandon her! It’d be rude at the best. He remembered an old pirate tale;

The Tale of the Shocking Serpent. 

It was one of his few memories from before the Blackclaw pirates. His grandfather, Calico Jack, had told him it at least two decades before. He must’ve been five or six, maybe seven? Though, Kwazii honestly wasn’t entirely sure of his own age. Either way, he remembered the memory decently well. 

“Grandad, one more story, please Grandad!” a young Kwazii had begged. “Alright, alright. Calm down, matey,” Calico Jack had said, chuckling. “Hm,” he put a hand to his chin. “What about I tell you the tale of the Shocking Serpent?” he asked. A little Kwazii practically jumped out of “her” bed. “Yes, yes!” Kwazii had agreed, excited. “A long time ago,” Calico had started. “When I was just startin’ on me pirate journey,” he continued, “I made a rest stop at a coast. In South America, I believe. When me an’ Pete were strollin’ around,” (the Pete in question was currently maintaining the ship–he was a parrot-hybrid, though they were sometimes just called avians) “I found a murky stream. I beheld the knowledge of cleaning water, of course, so I decided t’ get some of it.” Kwazii was leaning forward, listening intently to this story. 

“Just then, when I be collecting water in me container, a giant, slimy, snake burst out of th’ water, hissing! She be huge!” Kwazii gasped. “I be backin’ away, and yet she still hissed, and suddenly, she stirred up some electricity, somehow, and shocked me right out of me boots!” he said, and Kwazii was –ironically enough–shocked. 

The Shocking Serpent. He wasn’t really sure where he was, but he figured that he was probably at least near or in South America. So, if he found a murky enough pond–not like the beautifully clear one he’d found before–he might be able to harness the beast’s power, somehow. It was a possibility. So, taking some seaweed and stuffing it in his pockets, he started his search. If he couldn’t find it, then he’d have to come up with something else, but he was determined to find the beast. Deciding to head in the opposite direction of the crystal-clear pool, he sauntered his way to finding a murky enough body of water that the slimy thing could be hiding in. 

So, he walked out of the cave, and began the search. 

*** 

It didn’t take long for Tweak to arrive at the island. It was further then she thought it would be, though it certainly existed–and was bigger than what she was hoping. She scoped around the water of the island, first, just in case if he didn’t land on the island, and she didn’t find anything. So, deciding to go up on the shore, she went into “crab mode”, releasing the GUP D’S ‘legs’ and ‘arms’. She walked around in it clunkily along the shore. She didn’t see the pirate cat, but she did see something that was interesting, so she hopped out of the yellow submarine. Looking closer, she realized–it was a fire pit. A cooking place, even. Tweak knew Kwazii was definitely on his own for a while, so it certainly wasn’t entirely bonkers for him to know how to make one of those. She inspected the stick that would’ve been roasting something over the fire, holding it up to her face. Licking it, she realized–it tasted like…sea salt. Seaweed, even. She put the stick back in its place. She knew the others were coming, but she didn’t see them yet. They were on opposite sides of the radius, though, so she figured it might take them a bit.

Deciding to look around a little more, her eyes widened in happiness. Foot prints. And ones that looked like they were made by the standard Octo-boots all of them wore. The boots were pretty smooth at the bottom, so they didn’t leave a design in the sand. There wasn’t any semblance of a design, so she was almost completely sure—Kwazii was here, or had been here. The main thing she was concerned about, though, was that she didn’t see the GUP B anywhere. No trace of it. Sighing, she decided to follow the footprints. They must’ve been pretty recent, she reasoned. Otherwise they’d likely be swept away by the wind by now. Following them, she only got to the beginning of the forest area–the footprints were obscured by grass and plants. She walked back to the GUP D, jumped in, and went back over to the footprints. The GUP D trotted on through the forest, and Tweak searched for any semblance of her friend and crewmate. She sighed. Nothing. Then she remembered–the GUP B had to be near by. Activating the GUP tracker, she grinned. Bingo. Drove the GUP D on over there and she came across a cave. She assumed it was a shallow one, so she hopped out of the GUP D, flashlight in hand. 

She flicked it on, walking inside and looking around. A grin crept onto her face—the GUP B! But, alas, no Kwazii in sight. She jumped back into the GUP D, activating the radio. “Tweak to Captain Barnacles,” she said, and was almost immediately met with the Captain’s voice. “Captain Barnacles here–we’re cruising to your location.” “I’ve got good ‘n bad news, Cap’n,” Tweak said, munching on a carrot. 

“What is it?” he inquired. “Good news, I found th’ GUP B, and it seems to be in… okay condition. A little scratched up and the front is a bit banged up, but other than that it’s decent.” she replied, leaning back and taking another bite. “That’s wonderful news, Tweak! What’s the bad news?” he asked. “No Kwazii in sight. I’ll look around a little more over here, but I haven’t even caught a glimpse.” she said. She could hear the frown in the Captain's voice. “That’s unfortunate. But there’s no sign he left the island, right?” he asked. “None. Actually, I found a firepit–that was pretty recently cooked on.” “That’s fantastic, Tweak,” the Captain exclaimed, “I’ll be there shortly.” he said, and Tweak clicked her tongue, “Right on, Cap,” she tightened her headband-goggles a little. “Over and out!” and she pressed the end radio transmission button. Deciding to search around the cave a little more, she hopped back out of the GUP D, and she wandered into the cave. Squeezing her eyes shut,she let her bnnuny ears come out and pressed one against the cold metal of the GUP B. Balling up her fist, she knocked against the orange submarine. Sounded the same as usual. Bending down, she ran her fingers over the surface–and was surprised to feel some tally marks engraved in the metal. Five marks. She groaned. “Seriously? That’ll be an annoyin’ fix..” she grumbled. She circled back around, and there was only a bump and a dent near the back, and the front was a little more banged up. Surprisingly, it wasn’t anything too bad though. She looked inside, opening up the panel. Her face scrunched up a little, and she took something out. Dried seaweed.

She took a cautionary bite. Wasn’t the best, but it was alright. She put it back immediately. The seaweed chips were a lot better, to say the very least. She took a few more cursory glances around, and Kwazii was nowhere in sight. She sighed, and decided to head back to the beach and wait for the Captain–he’d come up with some sort of brilliant plan, she was sure of it. So, she hopped back into the GUP D, and sauntered her way back to the shore, where the GUP C emerged, and the Captain jumped out. “Tweak,” “Cap,” “Any sign of him?” he asked. 

Tweak pointed behind her with her thumb. “The GUP B’s dragged into a cave back there. No idea where Kwaz went, though,” she said. The Captain only nodded. “I see.” another GUP, the GUP E with Peso inside, surfaced. He hopped out. Barnacles faced him and then Tweak. “Tweak, do you think the GUP C’s towline can reach the GUP B?” he asked, and Tweak put a finger to her chin, thumping her foot in thought. “I think so. I’ll give it a shot,” she said, and the Captain nodded. “Excellent.” he faced towards Peso. “Peso, you and me, and when Dashi and Shellington get here–will search for Kwazii all separately. Knowing him…” he sighed. “We should try to find him fast, is what I’m saying.” Both Tweak and Peso sharply nodded. Tweak walked over to the GUP C, grasping onto the towline and securing it in  her grip. Peso and the Captain had already headed off into the underbrush. She yanked, and dragged it with her all the way to the GUP B’s resting place–it was just barely long enough to reach the orange submarine. She hooked it on the ‘tail’ of the GUP B, and ran back to the GUP C, and began retracting the tow line–usually this would be a job for two, but currently the others had to work on finding Kwazii. Which, Tweak would resume to, once she did this. She heard the sloshing of water, and glanced over. The GUP A, with Shellington and Dashi inside. They both hopped out, Shellington stumbling a bit as he did. “Hiya Dashi,” Tweak said, waving, “Hi Shellington,” and the both of them waved back at her. “What are you doing, Tweak?” Dashi asked, polite as ever. “Just haulin’ the GUP B back in. It’s in a cave.” she said, and Dashi looked a little surprised. “I’ll help with that.” Tweak lit up. “Thanks, Dashi.” Shellington stood awkwardly, before speaking up. “I’ll just uh- I’ll just go search in the forest,” he said, waving and walking away. Dashi hopped in the GUP C. “I’ll control from here, and you tell me what’s going on where the GUP B actually is,” she said, and Tweak nodded, jumping out. She sauntered over to the GUP B, and hit her radio button. “Tweak t’ Dashi,” she said. “Dashi here. Should I start retracting the tow line?” she asked, and Tweak made a little nod. “Yup.” the towline started retracting, pulling the GUP B back, albeit somewhat slowly. The grating of the GUP B’s metal against the rocky floor of the cave made Tweak cringe. A little bit of pulling, Tweak told Dashi to stop, she repositioned, pulled once more, rinse, repeat. A very simple cycle, that after a little bit, managed to get the GUP B back on the sandy shore. Dashi hopped out of the GUP C. She and Tweak high fived. “Well, on with the search now, yeah?” Tweak said, and Dashi nodded. “Yes, I’ll see you in a little,” Dashi said. Both Tweak and Dashi wandered into the forest in different directions–which Tweak was a little disappointed by. She enjoyed spending time with Dashi, but oh well. She supposed that could wait for later–they had a ginger cat to find. She, in the GUP D of course, searched through the forest, clearing the branches obstructing her view. Eventually, after a little bit of scrounging around, she came across a murky stream. Deciding to head up it, she saw something familiarly orange. Turning on the microphone, she spoke, “Kwazii?” she asked. Suddenly, it turned towards her–the cat she’d known for a while now. 

“Tweak, matey!” he cried, and Tweak un-encased the glass on the GUP D. “Kwaz, hey! Glad yer alright!” she said, and Kwazii immediately jumped up on top of the GUP D, sitting on it. “Be careful,” she warned, and he grinned. “I always be careful, me heartie,” he said, proudly displaying his canines. Tweak playfully rolled her eyes, clicking the radio button on the GUP D. “Tweak to Octonauts,” she said into the intercom, “Barnacles to Tweak. What is it?” 

“Guess who I just found,” she said. 

***

Of course, everyone was grateful that Tweak’d found Kwazii. Tweak also ended up not removing the tally marks on the GUP B, with Kwazii’s insistence. It would’ve been annoying, so that ended up being a good thing for her anyways. Kwazii didn’t seem like, permanently traumatized from the whole thing, which was also pretty good. 

Kwazii had been overjoyed when eating actual food again for the first time–and even more overjoyed with the seaweed chips instead of the horrid dried seaweed he’d had to endure eating on that wretched deserted island.

[trashlie]

what r ur stalkyoo predictions

Oh man Nonny this is such a broad question lmao and it doesn't help that my "predictions" are constantly changing week to week. I'm going to do my best to write what I currently anticipate but... honestly just know that a week or three from now maybe it will change lmao but here's what I anticipate

(this DOES include FP spoilers up to 235)

At this stage, I think we're moving towards Stalkyoo both acknowledging/admitting their feelings, but perhaps not entering a relationship given, yknow... extenuating factors.

I think Dieter will talk to Nol and confront him on how he pushes everyone away and how it especially hurts Shinae, that he knows what he saw that morning and he knows that they both like each other, and what good is it to hurt her pushing her away just because she doesn't return Dieter's feelings? I think this conversation is important not just because Nol feels guilt towards Dieter, but because Nol needs to see and understand an earlier point Shinae made, that he cannot keep making decisions on their behalf. Just like pushing Shinae away in order to "mitigate her risk of harm", pushing away someone who reciprocates his feelings in order to not hurt someone else benefits no one.

Something crucial for Nol to understand is that a. there are some feelings you can't keep squashing down and b. what happens when you continue to do so. Not so much a prediction as much as I hope, I really hope Nol will look at the letters in the Bible from his father, so that he can better understand his mother and father's relationship, and how they ended up in the positions they did.

As much as Nol, Shinae, and Alyssa parallel Rand, Nessa, and Yui, the most important difference is that they are not yet in as deep. In leaving Yui for Nessa Rand stood to lose much more than Nol does - not just his life's work (the company), but he was already married and he had a child with Yui. I think Rand probably stayed to try to protect Kousuke the best he could, to try to counteract what he could. It wasn't as easy for him to leave. But Nol isn't in that predicament. He has all the opportunity to leave, to put himself first and to put his own needs and happiness first.

But it's still important for Nol to stand in Rand's shoes for a moment so that he can understand. Even though Nol has never really come out and said it himself, I think it's easy to see that he probably resents Rand for all of that - for being married and having an affair with his mom, leaving her a single mother to raise Nol all on her own, for everything that happened after they moved to Korea. It sounds like they lived in secret, undocumented immigrants hiding in the country put up by Rand but still unable to be part of his family. And I think that made him resent his mom a little, too. He asked Shinae what if you mistreated the cow from which your burger came and it lends some ideas to the guilt that Nol carries. What if before losing her, Nol fought with his mom? Fought about her relationship with a married man, hiding in a country where they had no one. He was alone, lonely. He had no friends.

It's so easy for Nol to point fingers and admonish blame. He was married, he shouldn't have done that! She shouldn't have done that!

But what kind of rules and arguments do you apply to a marriage that was never based on love, but rather was an arrangement? It's not confirmed, but it's always felt like Yui and Rand are an arrangement, rather than two people who married for love, much like Nol and Alyssa are. For Nol to stand in his father's shoes - to essentially have a responsibility (used very, very loosely here) to someone else but to know that his heart and happiness lie with someone else, to be torn between what is right and what he wants, perhaps he could better understand his parents, and how they ended up living the ways they did. Why Nessa clung to someone like Rand despite everything.

But also, just as importantly, I think it would give him more understanding of the choice Rand couldn't - didn't - make, and what could happen to Nol if he doesn't. It's not just his happiness that is in jeopardy but also Shinae's. Knowing what his mother was like, and how Shinae, too, is so relentless, unwilling to give up on him, might give him more of the resolve needed to make the choice that his parents were unable to.

Now, I'm uncertain of the order I think things from here will progress. Will Nol get a chance to talk to Alyssa and break up with her before he gets to talk to Shinae? Is Alyssa going to have to contend with dating rumors involving convicted felon Nol? At some point, whether it's a mutual choice or not, one of them is going to pull the plug on that fake relationship. The moment Alyssa's benefits are jeopardized by Nol's reputation, it's all going to fall apart. We know that much. Minhyuk has kind of hinted at it - Alyssa doesn't keep people around when their reputations bring her down and the moment it does, she's going to have to make the call, whether or not she wants to.

At some point, though, Nol and Shinae will talk. They both have very pointedly (on the same day!!!!) come to realize the nature of their feelings towards each other, to understand just what they mean to each other! And Shinae is SO feral about it! I FULLY think she's going to have a spicy dream about Nol lmao the smut in Maya's books was too heavy handed for it to not come back into play in Shinae's subconscious, further illuminating something she's just become aware of. It's not enough to want to hang on to his friendship - it's EVERYTHING she doesn't want to lose, it's what he he means to her, and what SHE means to him. Nol's been given a 3 day extension before has to go to prison and I don't think quimchee would deliberately write that if not to leave room for this to happen. Notably, this extension brings us to Christmas Eve; it just feels TOO pointed to ignore.

Maybe it won't happen until the final day, but I think Nol and Shinae WILL talk and it will set us up for their post-time skip dynamics. Whether or not they actually enter a relationship at this time, I think what is more important is that Nol and Shinae will very likely resolve a lot of this - what they mean to each other, how they feel about each other, but also understanding that they are better off together. It's so easy for Nol and Shinae to be used by Yui against one and other if they are isolated, if Nol is pushing her away, if they are not a united front. Nol needs to start taking steps to forming his alliances so that in the future he isn't left so vulnerable. A talk about their feelings is more than just about relationships; it will set them up for the future where they are both playing this game.

But for the sake of my predictions, I think Shinae WILL go see Nol, whether it's because she wants to demand her belongings back or because she suddenly gets shy and can't face him. I really don't think we're leaning towards that any more, but rather "fine if you won't me have you" (SCREAMS), some kind of high tension moment that will inadvertently bring their feelings out into the open lol. As much as I'd like her to go straight back to him after waking, I'm not totally certain if I think she will or if she'll wait until the next day. Maybe Nol needs to sit with his feelings, too, after his talk with Dieter to be a little pathetic about her and really drive home how much this is something he can't just keep repressing lol.

And while I'm not sure they'll actually enter a relationship at this time, I think what we'll probably see is how this brings them into the timeskip. My friends and I have been talking lately about Nol taking his own path - moving forward not as a Hirahara but as a Lochlain, not attending Oxford but perhaps some other school abroad, becoming a self-made man his own way, while Shinae remains in Korea and probably takes Yui up on her offer. My guess is that Shinae will basically "trade herself" for her father - make a deal that you leave my father be and fine, I'll do this, I'll let you cover my schooling. I just... I DON'T want her to lose Simhan, I DON'T want him to die to force Shiane's hand. I'd much rather see her be proactive and take action against Yui, because as much as it still means she's being "forced" into taking up Yui's offer, it's still more or less on her own terms, it's not nearly as dire as what happened at the formal.

I think it will lead us to something where Shinae is the one playing the game the most openly - she's the one employed at the company, she's the one who is the direct adversary to Yui, who will be trying to no avail to try to break her, to get her to play the game her way, to try to convert her to her side. Meanwhile, I think Nol will operate from the shadows. They know of their own relationship, they know of their importance to each other, but perhaps others may not see it up front. Quimchee has a lot of Patreon art of Nol and Shinae that, quite frankly lmao, feels very much like it's Shinae in charge and Nol is here to do her bidding because he really doesn't care about anything else besides her LMAOOOOO idk maybe he WILL want revenge, especially if/when he learns that what happened to his mother may not have been simply her taking her own life. But I think their future dynamics will very much put Shinae at the forefront with Nol operating from the shadows, perhaps Shinae feeding him information so that he can work out of sight from people like Yui. That's not to say I think their relationship will be a secret or anything as much as just.... those who matter will probably know. There are a lot of benefits to them pointedly not revealing it to other people, right?

Something I think has been emphasized a lot in a lot of ILY art is that even if Nol and Shinae aren't directly connected, they're very often connected in SOME way - the earbuds binding them together, holding on to each other's fingers, Shinae's gaze on him. I think Stalkyoo will prove that they have a connection and understanding that goes deeper than a lot of people expect, and as such, they have confidence in each other, that they don't NEED to proudly display their relationship, and thus it will work to their advantage because we know Yui WILL try to divide them so it's better to keep things in the shadows, right?

My head is still really stuffy so this is not my BEST explanation, but hopefully this suffices! For now this is how I see things going down but, as always, we will possibly see this change with the coming episodes haha!

[radiowallet]

Eyes Open - Chapter 10

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Amy Oliver (ofc) Summary: Shit hits the fan. WC: 2.7K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Canon-typical violence, talk of police work, a blatant show of testosterone, blood, injuries, kissing, making-out, dry humping, a smidge of dirty talk hurt/comfort, slow burn, yearning, idiots friends to lovers, financial stressors, second chance romance, workplace romance (sort of), older love interest, single parents, DID I MENTION THE YEARNING?

Series Masterlist II Main Masterlist II Marcus Moreno Masterlist

Cross-Posted to AO3

Part 9 >>> Part 11

For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

------

There were few nights Amy could pinpoint her loneliness. Small moments well past midnight where she could nail it down with a certainty that allowed for an understanding. Perhaps even one that would befit an explanation. It hadn’t been a feeling she had given too much credit to over the past 7 years, the focus necessary to parent and the love of a daughter enough even on the hardest days. It would have been easy to pity her predicament, a single mom in a too-small bed in a too-small apartment, holding it all together through sheer force of will. 

But when she least expected it, the empty spaces of her life, and in her bed, grew too loud to ignore. 

The noise is near constant now, the gentle touches and insistent kisses that she and Marcus exchanged following her between the sheets. Her twin bed suddenly felt vacant, a gaping emptiness as she remembered how good he had made her feel only a few nights prior. She had wanted more, was ready and willing to give and take well into the night, but Marcus had quelled the feeling with a cooler head somehow, the promise of more just around the corner. 

A promise she’s currently cursing. 

Briefly, she considers digging beneath her bed, the box shoved towards the back that’s been left untouched for years now. But it would be a poor substitute for the weight of him beneath her, the grip of his hands dragging her towards blinding pleasure. So instead she focuses instead on a different problem altogether. 

The look on Marcus’s face was still with her, the tick of his jaw and the slight way he pulled back, so small a move Amy’s not sure even he noticed. The shadows of the evidence locker carved a line across his features, dim light only helping her to see what he was trying to hide as he refused her help for the first time ever. 

Marcus was protecting her. 

Which she had very much asked him not to do.

More or less.

She didn’t really have the energy for semantics, not when her mind was already split. Attempting to focus between checking second-grade math homework and trying to decide what to do with the sealed bag of money she had smuggled home in her purse. It felt wrong to even consider slicing it open with Harris still awake, and so up until her head hit the pillow, Amy did her best to put the entire thing out of her mind. 

And so, alone in her bed — alone — the lights turned low and the apartment silent, she considered what to do. She traced the seams along the plastic, following the very path she had earlier. Marcus’s kiss had followed her home as well, his still seared into her skin. It played over and over in her head, a hot and heady movie that she never wanted to end, even as she did her best to understand what secrets the useless bag in front of her contained. There had to be something obvious the Heroic was looking for. A fingerprint maybe? Or maybe something more outlandish? A secret message between bad guys slipped between the bills?

She was starting to feel herself spiral, a growl of frustration spilling out of her as rubbed furiously at the seal on the bag. When no answer presented itself, she flung the whole thing across the bed, kicking it down to the floor, committed to forgetting the entire goddamn thing. It was only after a trip to the bathroom and a halfhearted scolding to the mirror that she fished the evidence bag out from under the coffee table and shoved it back into her purse, intent on returning the money before anyone had noticed it missing.

It was only after she had fired off a good night text to Marcus, the first tendrils of sleep just starting to pull her under, that she realized the answer.

——

M: Might be hard to reach for a bit. Work stuff. ☹️ A: Is it anything I can help with?  M: I’ll see you Friday 😘

——

Marcus frowns down at his phone, reading and rereading Amy’s text until the words blur together into meaningless nonsense. 

She never offers to help over text messages. And he never asks. It was one of the unspoken rules of their long-standing friendship. Something implicit and understood. A line Marcus and Amy both held themselves to, refusing to waiver, even when it would have made things easier by leaps and bounds. 

No paper trail. 

He knows it bothered her yesterday, watching him leave the precinct empty-handed. It was out of the ordinary, against her instincts to help him in the small ways that she could, and Marcus couldn’t help but wonder which of his promises he was breaking to her after only just making them. 

But how could he keep on taking? Keep asking? No. Not when the risk had grown too high, the toll too steep. He could find another answer. Would find one, if it meant Amy could keep the stability she had worked so hard to secure. He shakes his head, slips his phone back into his pocket and reminds himself of the only promise that felt important in the middle of a dark night, the danger just ahead and those he loved safe behind. 

Please be careful. 

——

In hindsight, the proximity to police work may have given Amy a heightened sense of hubris; her confidence far outweighing any fear she should have in dangerous situations. The amount of actual danger she had been in was less than zero. Even Harris’s birth had been uneventful, water breaking while she was at her 41-week check-up, one epidural, and a handful of screaming, cursing pushes later, and that was that. And really, what business did she have getting involved? She had no actual desire for violence or heroics. The only things Amy craved were a steady paycheck, a stable life for her kid, and a date with a certain superhero on Friday night. 

The very same superhero glaring at her, his frown deep and his eyes dark. All around them, there’s the flash of gunfire, the shouts of angry men, the curse of police officers and Heroics alike. Amy had been caught off-guard by the eruption of violence, clutching her bag close to her chest as Marcus dragged her to him, covering her head and cursing under his breath. When he lets her go, she can see they’re crouched behind a wall of wooden crates, the worst of hiding spots but enough cover to give Marcus room for all his anger. 

He tosses his swords down by their feet, before grabbing her shoulders, eyes chasing any possible injuries carved into her skin. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I wanted to help! And you kept ignoring my texts.” 

“So you showed up to an official police operation with a bag of drug money?” He glares at the bag in question, the one she’s still holding tight to her chest. Truth be told it was only about a third of what was in the evidence locker, as much as Amy could fit and still walk out of the station without casting too many eyes on her. 

“I was trying to help,” she repeats, failing to hide her flinch when the sound of bullets hit closer, the splintering sound of wood hitting her ears. 

“And I was trying to keep you safe!”

“And I told you I didn’t need that!”

“Excuse me for thinking you meant the goddamn deadbeat that left you high and dry and not actual fucking criminals with guns! My mistake!”

“Look, I know your plan was to take the money and use it as bait.”

“That wasn’t my plan,” Marcus argues back, but she can tell he’s lying, his eyes cheating to the dingy ground below in time with his words. 

“What was then?”

He gestures wildly around them, gunshots and screaming fading in and out as they continue to stare each other down. “This, Ames. This stupid undercover thing was the plan.” 

“Then why ask about the money?”

“Does this feel like the right time for this conversation?” Marcus practically shouts, pulling her head down in time with the shot of another bullet in their direction.

“As good as any,” she snaps back even as she scoots in closer to his broad frame.

Marcus grumbles, rubbing one large hand down his face, and it’s only then that she notices his glasses are gone, and she hates how much she misses them. 

“I don’t know…fucking pride? The last thing I wanted was to go along with Baldwin’s plan.” 

“But when did he even tell you…”

“Saturday. And again on Monday.” 

Amy grows quiet, her mind turning over the new facts, her frustration deepening with each passing second. Marcus doesn’t say anything else instead focusing on tugging at the straps of his tac vest. He moves quickly, hands yanking at the buckles and Velcro wrapped around him until the thick black vest is falling away. Before she can ask what it is he’s doing, he’s throwing the very same vest over her head and pulling the straps as tight as he can. 

“Marcus, no—”

“Shut up, Amy.”

“But—”

“Shut. Up.” 

The look on his face is determined, his eyes blazing and his jaw clenched tight. He tugs at the straps again and again, ensuring they’re secure, only satisfied when the buckles no longer give beneath his strong grip. After, he takes care to cup her cheeks, the touch too tender a contrast to the bite of his tongue that follows.

“Listen to me. You’re going to stay low. You’re going to move fast. And you’re going to keep your eyes open.”

“Marcus…I can’t—“

“You can. The door is just behind us,” he points, before pulling her attention back to him. “It’s only a few steps. I’ll cover you. You get outside and then you run as fast and as far as you can. All the way back to the precinct if you can make it.” 

“But what about you?”

His gaze softens, thumbs sweeping gently up and down the curve of her cheek, holding her in place as he slowly leans in. The kiss is insistent but light, a brush of his lips she could have imagined if it weren’t for the danger still screaming all around them. He pulls back only to push her gently toward the back door of the warehouse with as much urgency as he can in his tender touch. 

“I’ll be careful. I promise.”

“You better,” she teases, despite the very worst of circumstances closing in on them. “You have a date Friday night.”

Marcus grins, shooting her a wink before he finally turns away. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

——

Marcus is tired. The kind that only came after a hard day’s work. The kind of tired that settles deep into your muscles, each movement worn but willing, leading to a rest that feels so very earned. He can feel it settling at the base of his spine, a burn that blooms with every breath he takes in. 

The entire night had been less than ideal from the get go; an undercover operation he had no desire to be a part of no matter how good the plan was followed by Amy’s unexpected involvement. He swore his heart stopped when he saw her through the chaos, her own body frozen in place as the danger swirled around her. He still isn’t quite sure how he got to her, but all that matters is that he did. 

By the time the dust settled and the danger had passed, he had two text messages waiting for him from Amy, promising she was safe and that she would be waiting for him at the precinct. It brought him the smallest amount of relief to know she was safe and so, unsure how late his night was going to go, he had encouraged her to go home for some much needed sleep. 

It shouldn’t have surprised him when she refused to listen. 

“That was some good work out there, Moreno.”

He hums from where he sits across from Baldwin, eyes heavy and limbs loose. The chair he’s slumped in feels more comfortable than usual, though only by a small margin, and he has a feeling this compromising accord the two men have reached won’t last much longer. He shifts left then right, in search of a better angle before nodding at the chief. 

“Same to you.” 

Behind him, Marcus hears a small cough and then a cup of coffee appears in his line of sight, a second offered to Baldwin. He’s about to turn and lecture Amy for the gift, intent on insisting one more time that she go home, but he’s slow on the draw, the other man beating him to it. 

“Are you seriously standing here right now, Oliver?”

Marcus feels her stiffen beside him, a stuttering response stuck on her tongue. 

“I…w-well…listen…Derek, I—“

“Go home. The paperwork can wait.” 

“Sir?”

Both of them whip their heads back towards where Baldwin sits, his legs stretched out long and his hands behind his head. “I appreciate you hanging around, but I promise. We’re good.”

His eyes glimmer with something unspoken, but he doesn’t elaborate and Amy is smart enough not to ask, turning back the way she came, squeezing Marcus’s shoulder once before she goes. 

“Same for you, Moreno. Not much else needed on your end.” 

It’s more than enough to have Marcus standing, following Amy with long quick strides, but the shout of his name stops him in his tracks, the step of his boot at the threshold of the door. He turns his head just enough to catch Derek Baldwin’s eye, the look on his face suddenly serious.

“Don’t hurt her.”

He nods, just once, before leaving the office for good, letting the door close gently behind him. Amy hasn’t gone far, watching Marcus from where she’s leaning all of her weight against her desk. From here she doesn’t look any worse for the wear, save for the bags beneath her eyes and the slight tremble in her fingertips. He can feel the rapid beat of her heart, the iron in her blood working double time as she comes down from the adrenaline coursing through her veins. 

He also can’t help but notice she’s still wearing his tac vest, the black Kevlar strapped tight to her chest, entirely too big on her small frame and somehow accentuating every one of her curves. Despite the fatigue settled deep in his bones, he suddenly feels very much awake, hands aching to reach out and touch. 

“Amy?”

At the sound of her name, her eyes well, tears pooling as her face crumples in. Marcus moves as fast as he can, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close enough to muffle the sound of her sobs into his chest. He doesn’t say much save for soft murmurs of comfort pressed into the crown of her head, content to hold her through the crash of emotions. Slowly her cries dampen, before finally they quiet completely, a heavy sniff and a shudder chasing after the last of her tears. 

“So,” he starts, pulling away just enough to look Amy in the eye, “I think there should be a rule about letting each other know when we plan to walk head-first into danger?”

“Couldn’t hurt,” Amy laughs, her head falling forward to hit his chest, her fingers curled around his forearms. “For both of us, right?”

Marcus lets out his own laugh, lips finding the top of her head one more time. “That’s fair.” 

They move together after that, Amy collecting her coat and (empty) purse before the pair of them make their way to the front door. Marcus takes care to tuck her beneath his arm, not at all ready to have her even an inch out of reach. Once outside he breathes the cool night air in, allowing himself to relax fully. Amy leans in close enough to press a kiss to his shoulder, her breath warm and her lips soft. 

“So where’s Harris?”

“With Christine. It’s so late, I’m just gonna let her sleep there.”

“So, you’re on your own tonight?” 

“I am,” she answers, and he swears he can hear the way she smiles through those two words. “Could you…” she starts, her voice dipping low, “would you come home with me?”

“You sure?”

Marcus feels her nod, her cheek still pressed to his shoulder, her own arms snaking around his middle and holding tight. He pulls her in closer, and nods along with her, his own voice soft but sure. 

“Lead the way.”

-----------

Part 9 >>> Part 11

For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

Thank you for reading!

[theurgic-necromancer]

You come upon Gale late one night. Dinner is long over, and the others have dispersed to their own corners of camp. Gale, however, lingers near the fire, hands moving around in an obvious attempt to cast a spell, but it's not one you recognize. After several failed attempts, he gets up and mutters what sounds like an incantation to the untrained ear. But you’re reasonably certain it's just a curse.

"That was a failed spell if I've ever heard one," you remark.

Gale sighs. "Failure. You'd think I'd be used to it by now." He shakes his head and rubs his face. "It's getting late. I think I'll turn in. Perhaps some sleep will do me good."

"What were you trying to cast?" you ask. "Maybe I can help troubleshoot."

"A bygone spell from a bygone era," Gale waves a hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter."

"I'm practically from a bygone era, Gale," you point out with a grin. "I've lived through Mystra's death and resurrection twice. Once when I was barely even aware of who Mystra was as a goddess."

"Ah, elves and your ridiculously long lives," Gale laughs. But it's short lived as he turns his attention back to the fire. "You said before that you were once a powerful and skilled necromancer, correct?"

You follow his gaze towards the fire, momentarily falling quiet. "One of the best. I was fairly well known on the Sword Coast. Even as far south as Amn."

Gale lets out a low whistle. "That's either a compliment or a condemnation, given Amn's general opinion of arcane magic."

"Probably a bit of both," you admit. "But I was well-regarded enough for a time that they allowed me to train some apprentices."

"So you were an archwizard once, too," Gale says quietly. You glance over to see him looking at you with a degree of sympathy.

You shrug. "Not in any official capacity. But in terms of power and knowledge… yeah."

You both stare silently into the fire. Your attention drifts to your hands, shadows dancing across them with every flicker of the flames. In the right light, they almost look skeletal. You hate that fact.

"But now, I can barely cast a cantrip without falling over myself." You clench your fists in front of yourself, and hate the way your hands tremble despite holding still. "I could summon lightning, conjure clouds of noxious fumes, raise and control undead, even wish for whatever I damn well wanted. Now I'm back to casting sleep and hoping it keeps my foes out of the fight long enough for us to finish off their allies."

"I know how you feel," Gale says, softly. "There was a time I could make this fire take the form of a dragon and roar in delight. I could silence a Beholder with a word, and lift a tower from its foundations with a flourish."

"Now you can barely get it lit in the first place," you say, recalling an earlier debacle with the campfire. Gale heaves the heaviest sigh.

"Now I can barely light a campfire reliably," he agrees. "I was all but one with the Weave once upon a time. But no more. I'm a mere shadow of the wizard I used to be."

"Couldn't have said it better myself." It's your turn to heave a sigh.

"You know my sordid tale, at least," Gale says. "Of how I sought to impress my goddess muse, Mystra herself. How all I accomplished was ensuring my death—"

"You know I'll help you find a way to stop it, right?"

Gale pauses, chancing a look at you before turning away again. "It's a fine sentiment."

"I mean it, Gale. I've helped people with far wilder problems."

He waves a hand. "First, let's see to our little tadpole problem, and then we can worry about how to… deal with this ticking time bomb in my chest."

You sigh, but let the point drop.

"But if you don't mind my asking… how, precisely, did you end up divested of your own powers?" He smiles wryly. "You didn't also happen to run afoul of the goddess of magic somehow too, did you?"

You let out a huff of a laugh. "Not her, no. I've certainly run afoul of at least one god I can think of though. But my current predicament wasn't his doing."

"Now you've gone and piqued my curiosity." Gale grins. "If not the result of divine wrath, then what?"

You hesitate. You don't want to tell the whole story. But would only a sliver be enough to satisfy a fellow mage's boundless curiosity?

"It's a long story,'' you say. "Far longer than I want to get into tonight. But…" You sigh and cover your mouth. "The shortest version is, I put myself into a magically induced coma for about a century."

"…On purpose or by accident?"

"On purpose."

Gale raises an eyebrow. "Why, precisely?"

You turn away. Thankfully, he gets the hint.

"A long story that you do not wish to get into tonight." Gale sighs. "You know, it's strange. We've spent a fair bit of time with you at this point, and yet I barely feel as is I've had a chance to get to know you." He looks at you with the smallest of smiles. "But between our little stint with the Weave before and this conversation… I feel like we've grown a little closer."

You look up and catch that smile, and find yourself smiling back.

"I'd like to continue getting to know each other－with or without the looming threat of death, of course."

You snort, the first time you've laughed properly this whole conversation. "Yeah, the looming threat of death really puts a damper on things. I’d like that, though. The getting to know you part, at least."

"Well then, we’ll just have to carve out some time between carving up enemies and wrestling with basic cantrips." Gale smiles again. "I'll look forward to it."

[bi-naesala]

Dismas and lovers

8. Hellion

The first thing Dismas becomes aware of, once consciousness comes back to him, is that his head fucking hurts; it’s like someone took an axe and split it open with it, fucking hell.

The worst thing of it all, is that given what they do and where they are, there are a few chances that might’ve really been what happened.

He doesn’t remember fighting, however, quite the contrary, in fact: they were celebrating a big victory, having freed the Weald of that terrible, terrible hag. A huge victory, for them, which was deserving of a huge celebration, and they made the best of it; he doesn’t think he’s ever consumed so much alcohol all in one go – and he has gotten extremely wasted many times in his life, so that says a lot.

Taken off guard, he almost jumps out of the bed when he feels something – or better, someone – against him move, accompanied by a loud yawn, as the body beside him stirs awake. Huh, he wasn’t expecting to have company, not of this kind at least.

The person lying beside him turns and, would you look at that, another surprise: it’s Boudica, of all people.

They stare at each other for a moment, one definitely more at ease than the other – it’s not Dismas – before she bursts into laughter, loud and unrestrained, just as she always is. At least one of them is finding this funny, though the noise does nothing for Dismas’ headache; if anything, it worsens it.

“Morning to you too…” he grumbles, massaging his temples with slow circular movements of his hands. This is going to be a loooong day, he can already tell; maybe he should visit Paracelsus, see if she has something that could help him—

He’s caught in what he can be only described as a whirlwind – he’s way off his game, today – as Boudica pushes his down, a triumphant expression on her face. Had it been any other day, he would’ve been very into it – a big violent woman who could snap him in half if she so wishes? That’s his type – but, in this particular predicament, he can’t help but to feel corned, though he has to say, being able to stare at her bare form definitely helps.

“You’re thinking too much,” she says, as if he’s in the wrong for that – he just wants to understand if he should regret what they’ve obviously done last night or not, though considering that she hasn’t tried to strangle him yet, he probably doesn’t need to.

“Just… What did we do, exactly?” he asks – how far this they go? – but she ignores the question.

“You’re thinking too much,” she repeats, but this time she doesn’t give Dismas any chance to say anything, as she captures his lips in a heated kiss, giving him no other choice but to follow her lead.

Maybe she’s right: he is thinking too much, and when has he ever done that, in all his life? He’s always been a guy who’s more content following the current of events without putting much thought behind it – to his advantage and detriment too.

It doesn’t take him long before he loses himself in Boudica’s lips, and starts focusing on other “activities”.

Who cares about what happened last night: it was obviously something they both enjoyed, which means that it would be a waste of time worrying about it.

He has to admit, though, that being able to experience it while being in possess of all his faculties is much, much better.

[laughingwiththestorm]

DADDY

by TM Hogeman

He’d wanted to have kids someday. It wasn’t going to happen now. That was a sad thought. Maybe it was for the best, the way the world was going. That was an even sadder thought. Tyreese was normally a more positive guy, but it was hard to stay optimistic while cocooned to a wall.

Tyreese Shannon. Lance Corporal, Military Police. That was all you were supposed to say when you were a prisoner. He doubted his captors here would care much for his name and rank, though. The carnivorous alien arachnids from another dimension appeared to have more primal concerns than sorting out who they’d managed to capture. Hungry concerns, like digging those too toothy grins into a few of the unlucky people they’d killed when they came skittering out of the enveloping grey fumes that had swallowed the entire town, and in through the doors of the pharmacy.

Some, the live ones like Tyreese, the spider-things had plastered to the ceilings and the walls. Maybe food for later, maybe something else.

He wished that he could move his arm to scratch the incredible itch that was spreading from his back to his chest and face, radiating from the spot where several of the creatures had stung him with some kind of paralyzing poison before they wrapped him up against the wall.

Sam. That would’ve been the name of his first kid. He’d always liked the name, the rhythm and the alliteration. Sam Shannon. Samantha if it was a girl.

The whole thing was fundamentally notional; he didn’t have a woman in his life at the moment, and, given the way things were going today, he didn’t think he was going to be with another woman in this lifetime. But it was something to keep his mind off itch. The second kid would be Charles. The third kid? Maybe Charlene. Or Tyrone.

Tyrone, son of Tyreese. That had a nice ring to it.

***

The worst part about waiting to die was the boredom.

That, and the itch, but the boredom was what surprised him. Gave him way too much time to think, which in turn made him feel bad about the current predicament he and the others found themselves in.

The Project had seemed so badass when he’d first been assigned to it, heard the stories about experimental technologies that could look into other worlds, filled with impossible places and things.

Not nearly as badass when a surge from the electrical storm knocked all the precise calibrations out of alignment and into a perfect cascade of catastrophic consequence. His radio crackling with panicked screams from the base, only to be cut off by an overly calm broadcast from off-site command, ordering Tyreese and the other MPs to round up any wayward troops from town and prepare for emergency operations.

Yeah, they’d screwed up, majorly, and he’d been a part of it. A small part of it, but still part of it. That sucked, stuck on the wall, where not even the weight of all that culpability could pull him down. He’d run out of baby names hours ago.

Something familiar but new echoed through the cobweb coated shelves, something Tyreese had abandoned any hope for since he’d gone up on the wall: human voices. Flashlight beams punctured the shadows inside the store.

“Let’s just get what we need and get out of here.” Someone whispered harshly. Tyreese guessed they weren’t having the best day either. The newcomers crept through the aisles. Most of the spider-things slept soundly in their webs, the rest out stalking through mist soaked streets, searching for prey.

The group clanged and clamored to the back room of the pharmacy. Tyreese wanted to tell them to keep it down. He could hear the sleeping spider-things begin to stir at the all the sounds the intruders were making.

“Guys…hurry it up. I hear something.” One of the people said. Good, they’d finally realized they should tread more softly. They didn’t want to end up like Tyreese and the others.

“Something weird.” Another chimed in. Shut up, Tyreese thought.

One of their flashlights fell onto a woman webbed to the ceiling. The newcomers began to scream. Some wordlessly yelling, others spouting profanity.

This had the potential to go very badly for them.

The telltale chittering grew louder, the spider-things really waking up now. Gathering his remaining energy, Tyreese pulled his hand from the wall and onto the shoulder of one of the group. The man, a craggy face in mechanic’s overalls, spun around and screamed louder.

He felt bad for scaring the man. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Tyreese choked out through the itching, somehow growing even more intense than it had been before. He pulled and shook against the wall. He had to get down, help them get out before the spiders fully awakened. “Help me,” he said, struggling against the webs.

“Oh man, he’s glued to the post.”

Tyreese could just make out the confused and terrified expressions on their faces through the haze of webs.

They really had no idea what was happening or why, and he couldn’t begin to imagine how frightening this all must be, without the context of the knowledge that he had. He started to explain, began at the beginning, “It’s all our fault…”

The itch got worse, and better at the same time, little strokes soothing it from the inside. He realized what was causing it; little feet, thousands of little feet scampering under his skin. “I can feel them…”

The others stepped away from Tyreese.

Finally some relief, all those little teeth and claws scratching at the itch. One spot on his face gave way entirely, tiny little spider feet tickling his nose as they stepped across his cheeks. Sammy. He would name it Sammy.

“Oh…my god.” One of the intruders said. More spots burst open as hundreds of baby spiders came crawling out of him. So, so many, and even after all that time spent just thinking of possible kids’ names, Tyreese didn’t have nearly enough. But it was okay. Good, even.

He was going to be a father after all.

*

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[onewomancitadel]

Do you think they've been intentionally setting up Jaune/Weiss as a red herring? On the path to Knightfall, that is. I do believe they've made some intentional choices with Jaune and Weiss that would lean towards some type of romance being a possibility but I'm unsure of the ultimate intent.

Nothing incredibly deep. Just instances that seem to imply that the animators are hinting at "something":

The scene shifting from Jaune and co mourning Pyrrha to Weiss during Ruby's V4 speech when Ruby is discussing moving on from loss and discovering a beautiful future.

The teasing in V5 from Nora and Jaune unlocking his semblance to save Weiss.

Jaune's eye contact with Weiss when their teams reunited I'm V6, which was tracked by Blake for some reason.

The movie thing in V7.

Sentimental glances towards the other in Volume 8, during Penny's rampage. Pairing them together during the conclusion of the V8 fight.

Weiss reacted differently than the others when Jaune first showed up in V9 and the following gag was accompanied by Blake and Yang exchanging knowing glances. V9 made an effort to pair them together in many shots and Jaune's big breakthrough moments were shared with Weiss. "I can actually save these people", hearing Weiss snaps him out of his rampage on Ruby, his break down over the bridge incident is directed at her, the eye contact they held upon immediately breaking apart from the hug was rather intimate and the way they held on after looked more romantic than the canon established couple next to them. When Jaune was shocked by the sound of his voice, Weiss giggling caught his attention and made him smile.

It's all basic, surface level evidence that would seem to hint at a future relationship. But I can easily admit that Knightfall would make more sense when you lay everything out as you've done. It seems right and it would certainly be interesting. Yet it still seems that there's been more evidence for Jaune and Weiss presented in the show.

Could it be a misdirect? Weiss would make a lot of sense as a major obstacle in any romance between Jaune and Cinder.

Yet it still seems that there's been more evidence for Jaune and Weiss presented in the show.

Wrong.

A majority of the examples you've given are not ship foreshadowing, and they're extremely fragmented compared to the other canon developing ships (which I have discussed at length on my blog). How is going to the movies with Oscar ship foreshadowing? Please stop fucking with me.

Jaune's eye contact with Weiss when their teams reunited I'm V6, which was tracked by Blake for some reason.

I am begging you to stop fucking with me. You're listing eye contact as ship foreshadowing. If someone were arguing for Blake/Yang this way, would you take them seriously?

I have written extensive posts about Jaune/Weiss on my blog discussing this matter, and previously Tower Anon messaged me about the similarities between Blake/Sun and Jaune/Weiss, which, yes, could suggest a red herring, if you want to read further on that.

The thing I can't parse is why you'd send such a long ask like this if you want my response, but you couldn't even search on my blog to see if I'd already (at length) discussed this topic (across my V9 tag, ship cope, my Jaune tag considering the relation of Jaune's predicament in V9 and the Weiss thing, and my Knightfall tag itself and all the rest). So I can only conclude my response very likely doesn't matter - I don't mean this passive aggressively, I mean this in a self-deprecating sense - and in which case I'll say that I wish you all the best with your meta writing. Maybe you should make a post like this on your own blog.

I don't really know what else to say in all honesty. I think it could be argued that Jaune/Cinder is a type of parallel to Blake/Adam - there are people currently nominally expecting (based on Cinder going after Jaune and Weiss in V8) that Cinder will play the Adam role to Jaune/Weiss. But there is no previous Jaune/Cinder relationship, and Cinder is her own foil to Adam. So you can draw your own conclusions.

[veryrealimagination]

It’s been a long day

Day No: 20

Prompt: Prisoner Trade

Medium: fic

Fandom: Murdoch Mysteries

Trigger Warnings: past references to torture

SFW

Every time someone shoved a bag on his head, he had been dragged into a room lined with builder machines, the highest possible ones. They wanted him to build weapons. Bombs and guns, more powerful than current ones, new ways of delivering them. He told them no. The burns were still healing. They dragged him back to his cell and tried again two days later after restricting his food. He still said no. They made everything hurt on his body.

He listened for the machines, trying to figure out if they were going to try forcing him again. There was a pattern of wait two days and torture if he didn’t say yes. It had only been a day, so he figured they were getting impatient over his negative answers. Perhaps they brought in someone to try and break me completely. An extra day of torture to see if he would break and work for them. Or something prolonged to make it work.

Instead his hands were bound in front of him. They never bound his hands, he wasn’t strong enough to escape. He had tried. There wasn’t the normal sounds of their building room, but there was the sound of engines. However, it was the cold and birds chirping that he realized he was outside. Involuntarily, he stopped because he hadn’t been outside since Winter when it was cold, and it stayed cold in the cells. While the furnaces were warm, it was artificial and he never enjoy it as he associated it with what they did. This was warmth from the sun and it felt the best in ages.

Then, they forced him forward with something dug at his back before he was pulled into a slightly less warm space. His ankles were chained and he realized it was a transport cabin. There was another person to his right, also in the same predicament. He thought, as the chains moved when he didn’t and he figured they were all chained together to prevent any of them running off.

He wasn’t sure how long they had been moving before one of them spoke. “Where are we going?” a woman’s voice demanded. If there was someone in the cabin with them, they didn’t say anything.

“Answer the lady’s question,” the person next to him demanded. Male, much older than himself. There was a grunt of pain, and he felt the handle of a rattler when it knocked into him before he felt the barrel against his chest.

“You got anything you want to say?” the guard asked, knocking his legs to ensure that he knew it was targeted at him.

He didn’t want to ask anything about the travel. The less he knew about what possible tortures in his future, the better. He didn’t do well thinking about what could happen. Instead, his question was more self-serving, as he had been pulled from his cell right after he woke. “Can I have some water?” he asked, voice cracking on a couple of the words that he swore he hadn’t done for a couple of years since the beginning of his puberty. “Please?”

The man beside him stiffened at how young he sounded. He figured he sounded pathetic when a bottle was placed between his hands. “You’ll get half now, half later, when we’re closer,” they said, when he started sipping it carefully. The bag raised just enough so he could see a darker man was next to him, in a style he saw before in Barnarock. The woman he saw maybe some Seesai pants. Both had been given water as well. When he saw his bottle was half-way gone, it was capped and taken. The bag was adjusted so it recovered his vision as well.

He realized, after what might have been an hour, but maybe only twenty minutes, was that the man beside his was very warm and he was unconsciously falling on him and wanting to go to sleep. It was dangerous. The last time, it was one of the guards and they decided to shock him awake ever time he landed on their shoulder. Punishment for ‘getting too close’. The man may not care, as he was asleep himself. But he needed to be awake in case they could do something.

“It’s fine, kid,” the man muttered. He wasn’t asleep? Uh, oh. I thought… he was hiding it? “She’s asleep as well. They’re not gonna do anything.” His subconscious took that as permission. He was tired and the man was safewarmnice.

When he woke up, it was because the man was shaking him. “We’re apparently close, they’re giving us water and rations,” he lowly told him, making sure he wasn’t going to panic before his bottle of water was handed to him along with stale bread plastered with cheap apple butter. He had to keep his mouth closed for a few minutes to make it stay down.

The stop was unexpected. There wasn’t orders to unload the prisoners into a new building, nor to bring them out for another reason. After a few minutes, he heard muttering from the guards. “Yeah, I count eight. They brought the entire squadron,” someone from the front informed.

Squadron? What’s happening? Were they that dangerous and valued that they needed a squadron to torture them? Were we actually being led to a death squadron? We’re builders, they want those. Why-

“They want proof our prisoners are the real deal.”

The woman mumbled, “A trade. By the Light, they’re trading us!”

A trade? I’m valuable enough to be bought back in a trade? Someone undid his ankles and hissed in his ear, “No hero moments. Nothing stupid, you got that?” He nodded and was dragged out of the back before someone took off his bag. The sunlight blinded him, but he was forced to walk in front of the vehicle and to the land ahead.

It was one of the borders, nowhere near where he had been when he was originally captured. There were eight men kneeling on the ground, likely with their hands bound behind them to prevent them from doing anything. They appeared vicious, some sort of specialty, attack or killing team that Jackson used to warn and tease him about when he kept leaving expedition groups or he forgot to lock the door on his apartment. A large group of the Civil Corps, two for each one of their prisoners and more, was behind them. He was forced to his knees, with a pistol beside his head.

He thought he was hallucinating when he saw his uncle standing alongside a high ranking official. I thought he was in Portia.

“Here’s the young one,” the captain announced, “Watts, Llewellyn. Taken at the Orzu Ruins back in Winter. Tallsky born, had been residing in Ethea since his parents’ death.” He didn’t dare talk, not sure if begging would come out or the stale bread. Instead, his right pointer tapped on his left middle knuckle. A very old signal to his father that he wanted out of the room when they had to go to Highwind galas. His mother and his sister used to ignore it and tell him off after. You have to get used to large crowds and people, Llewellyn. His father would invent a reason to get the both of them out. His uncle saw him doing it once and managed to convince a young builder to set off some fireworks to distract everyone so he could leave.

His uncle muttered something in the man’s ear, which he nodded along side. It’s me, it’s me. Please. “The other two?” he yelled.

The man answered, “Still in the transport. Are we completing the trade?”

There was a discussion, that no one else could see, or tell what it was. But they looked straight back at the man behind him. “We are.”

He almost sobbed in relief, a sigh coming out with a couple of tears so they wouldn’t know how close he was to breaking down. He wasn’t pulled to his feet until the other two were along side him. Their prisoners were parted so the Civil Corps members could grab the builders and fold them into the protective barrier of people.

Someone cut the ropes on his wrists and he realized it was his uncle. The man was checking him over in place of the medics that were doing the same to the other builders. “Uncle Tommy?” he whispered.

“Right here, Llewie Bulb,” he said, finding his wounds that he kept muttering to someone else about.

“I thought you stayed in Portia,” he barely managed, before collapsing.

[watching-pictures-move]

Dispatches from TIFF #2

Hey folks, after two long years, I’m doing TIFF again, so I figured I’d make a little diary out of it with reviews and other thoughts. 

Kacchey Limbu (Yogi, 2022)

There aren't any big surprises here (except maybe one camera move during the climax), but this is executed with enough energy and humour that it's very hard to dislike. I enjoyed the immersion into cricket culture (famous players are namedropped in regular conversation, the characters are given derisive nicknames from Lagaan), and what can I say, cliches are cliches for a good reason. I cringed a little near the beginning, but had a pretty good time by the end. 

Holy Spider (Abbasi, 2022)

This uses a serial killer plot inspired by real events to expose different currents in Iran's religiously repressive patriarchal society, tracing through the ways said culture is conducive to the killer's actions, in terms of direct motivations, lack of empathy for the victims and limited willingness or effort to actually catch the killer and hold him accountable. This isn't really a thriller or a procedural, more so a series of episodes alternating between the killer carrying out his actions and a journalist trying to report on and crack the case, as well as his eventual trial, and plenty of scenes (particularly the closing interview with the son) make an impact. Zar Amir Ebrahimi won the Best Actress prize at Cannes, and I can confirm that she's very good.

But at the same time, I concede this is a personal hangup, but I sometimes struggle with movies that wallow in sheer ugliness in the service of a specific point. Movies like Maniac and Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer are not exactly pleasant to spend time in, but they have a certain honesty and lack of pretense in grappling with the evil they present. Here, and in stuff like Martyrs, there's a certain level of calculation that I find off putting, as if it's pushing your face in the muck while pretending otherwise with its message. Perhaps I would have appreciated it were there more grace notes when we followed the killer. After the first victim, we don't get much sense of them as people. One of them is even rendered cartoonishly (she's too heavy and strong to be overpowered initially), yet the movie is unwilling to go full Frenzy and have us identify with the killer during his predicament. (Aside from some moody nocturnal cinematography, this avoids relishing genre elements.) Now that would have been really daring.

On a side note, this screening marked the return of one of my least favourite parts of seeing movies at TIFF: people who don’t understand how Q&As work. Multiple people took up question spots to offer extremely long winded compliments to the filmmakers but not actually ask a question. The host was savvy enough to turn them into questions, and I understand people are a little starstruck and whatnot, but they need to cut that shit out and let people with actual questions speak. It’s a pet peeve about the format that my previous screenings this year managed to avoid (the Q&A for Sick the previous night I thought was particularly good in terms of the questions asked).

The Origin of Evil (Marnier, 2022)

Basically French Parasite, although the point is less satire about capitalism than relishing the layers of each characters’ awfulness as they’re peeled back like an onion. Some solid visual style (including some well deployed splitscreens) and a nifty score make this one pretty entertaining to sit through.

Sanctuary (Wigon, 2022)

The premise “Margaret Qualley dominatrix movie” already carries a good deal of inherent intrigue, but I can confirm this is a sharply directed (check out those groovy, tilting, roaming shots when the hero searches the room), sharply written (lots of funny, specific dialogue to colour their psychosexual games), very entertaining two hander with a pair of magnetic lead performances, particularly a distressingly sexy and unhinged Margaret Qualley. Yes, she plays a sociopath with no concept of personal or professional boundaries, but I can change her. 

Yes, it’s probably a little too on brand for the dominatrix movie to be my favourite thing I’ve seen so far in the festival, but as it says in the bible, “Judge not that ye not be judged.”

[havin-a-wee]

Doctor's Orders

pairing: gynecologist!harry x reader/doctor!harry x reader

word count: 2.3k+

warnings: smut, fingering

this is so long overdue i apologize but this is a request! i kinda love this piece so i hope you guys do too!

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY

You sucked in a harsh breath as you heard your name being called from the front desk, the smiley old lady gesturing for you to follow her. You timidly walked behind her, your feet shuffling on the obnoxiously patterned carpet that lined the hallways.

You aren’t one to fear doctor’s appointments, in fact, you have never been apprehensive about going to one until right now. This appointment was something you’ve been avoiding for a while since you had moved to London, but there came a point where you couldn’t put it off for any longer. Back in the states, you were comfortable with your gynecologist, and you had no issue talking to her about problems you were having regarding your genitalia. But now that you were in a new city, you didn’t have the comfort that came with visiting a long-term doctor and faced new ones for the first time since you were a child. The rest of the doctor’s visits were pretty standard, but your private parts were something you struggled with understanding, Sure, you have seen porn and had sex, but it was never a fulfilling experience. In fact, you have never reached an orgasm. About a year ago you gave up on looking for men to help you and made it a mission to bring yourself to a climax. But alas, none of your efforts seemed to work. At this point, you were convinced that something was wrong with you, hence the gynecologist visit. Male gynecologist, that is.

Over the past month, you have spent a lot of time researching gynecologists in your area. The first one that came up was the one you are at now, but considering his gender you continued your hunt. But it kept leading you back to this one doctor, Dr. Styles, and that was why you are currently sitting in an exam room in his office.

You reassured yourself by looking up his name on your smartphone, scrolling through the 5-star reviews. The number of people who seemed to absolutely love this guy helped settle your nerves, so you read through them as you waited for a knock on the door.

That knock finally arrived a few minutes later, and you picked your head up and looked at the wooden door. “Come in!”

A head popped inside from behind the door as it was pushed open, and the doctor’s eyes found yours while he made his way into the small room. He’s tall, with a mop of chocolate brown curls on his head and bright green eyes accompanied by a friendly smile. He sat down, eyes never leaving yours until he placed his computer down and the screen lit up.

“‘Ello Darlin, m’Dr. Styles, but y’can call me Harry if you’d like.” He stuck out a hand, and your palm swiftly met his, the two of you looking at one another as you shook hands. His hands were enormous, and the rings placed on his fingers were cold to the touch. “Considering you’re a new patient, I took a peek at y’records and such, and I saw that y’ve always had a female gyno.”

You nodded your head slowly, opening your mouth to respond but getting cut off by Dr. Styles. “So I just wanted t’let y’know tha’ theres nothing t’be ashamed off, and I know what I’m doin’ so I promise you’re in expert hands.”

“Yeah, I was nervous, but I couldn’t ignore the amazing reviews people have given you, so I made an appointment.” You appreciated his reassurance a lot, and it really helped in the easing of your jitters. He turned back to his computer after nodding in response to you, clicking on a few keys before diverting his attention back to you.

“So what seems t’be the problem today Y/N?” An initial wave of shock hit you when he said your name, but it quickly dissolved when you remembered that he literally has access to all your medical information, so of course, he knows your name.

“This is a bit of an odd thing to come in for on my first appointment with you, but I think my vagina doesn’t work.” You let out a breathy chuckle at your own words. Dr. Styles seemed unphased by your forwardness, and you assumed he had heard a lot more abrasive things than that. “I’m a 22-year-old woman, but I’ve never had an orgasm. For the past year I’ve been focusing on doing it without a partner, but no matter how much time I spent or how many fancy toys I buy, I just end up feeling unsatisfied and disappointed.” He nodded along as you explained your issue, placing his chin in his hand while his elbow was placed on the desk.

“Have y’had any STD tests recently?”

“Yes, I had one last week, I’m clean and I’ve never had one in the past.”

“Is there any possibility tha’ you’re pregnant?”

“No, I haven’t slept with anyone in over a year.” You knew what questions he would ask, so to avoid wasting time you were giving him all the information he would need.

“When y’are sleeping with someone, do y’feel any sort of pleasure?”

“Yeah, but it’s just never enough, I guess.” His lips curled into an expression of concentration, and he pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. The room was silent for all of around 30 seconds, but soon enough Dr. Styles spoke up.

“Based on yeh’ history and what y’telling me, it seems that y’just haven’t found the right bloke.” Your eyebrows lifted in surprise at his simple answer. It couldn’t be that simple, could it? “M’guessing y’can’t get y’self off cause’ y’tense and not fully relaxed. And the guys y’ve been with ave’all been doin’ a rubbish job.” He chuckled along with you, and you couldn’t help but agree with him. There was no one you could think of that had actually made you feel good the entire time and had actually focused on your pleasure and theirs. Most of the hookups you took part in were with frat boys who would stick their dick into anything with a hole. “But just in case, lemme’ check y’out just to make sure.”

He stood up from his chair and you swung your legs up on the cot, laying down on it. While you had waited for the doctor, you changed into the gown you were provided with, so there was only a thin piece of fabric between you and the curly-headed man that had taken a seat at the end of the seat.

It was now that you were faced with a dilemma that your anxious brain hadn’t even thought of prior to the appointment.

Dr. Styles was attractive. Like, really, really attractive.

Dr. Styles was attractive. Like, really, really attractive. And probably because of the nature of your discussion (and the fact that your body is severely desperate for sexual release), your core had been heating up since he first stepped into the room. So now, he would lift the skirt of the gown and see a pool of velvety wetness coating the inside of your thighs.

The back of the seat was propped up, allowing you to see him. This was a good thing for him because he could talk to you while he does his job, but it means you will have to look at him after he sees the mess you’ve made.

“May I?” His fingers gripped onto the edges of the gown, and you swallowed hoarsely before nodding your approval. While you know that he probably has witnessed much more embarrassing situations than the one you were in right now, it didn’t make the predicament any better. As you suspected, he kept a straight face when he lifted the flimsy material from your legs. Without taking a second glance, he turned to a bottle on his desk and pumped a dollop of lube onto his glove-clad fingertips. He used his other gloved hand to spread the lubricant, only turning back to you when his two fingers were both well coated in the substance. “Y’alright?” Once again, you nodded at his question. “Tell me with words darlin’, wanna make sure y’comfortable.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What kind of exam are you doing exactly?” That question popped into your mind right before it rolled off your tongue because you noticed he had never specified exactly what he was looking for.

“M’just gonna use m’finger,” he held his lube-covered fingers, “and feel around, just t’make sure everythins’ fine.”

“Ok, sounds good.”

“M’gonna start now, s’gonna be cold at first.”

You hissed when his fingers met your sopping hole, and you had to resist the urge to kick your legs while he slowly pushed his fingers inside of you. The feeling was strange, but definitely not unwelcome. The contrast from his icy fingers to your warm center was sending a tingling sensation down your spine. You could feel his fingers push around inside of you, caressing your walls. And you know you shouldn’t. But his fingers were hitting all the right nerves, and you couldn’t help but find the experience immensely pleasurable.

Despite your best efforts, a small moan of satisfaction escaped your lips. Immediately, you went stiff, and you could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. You just moaned while your doctor had his fingers inside you. For a moment you thought he would ignore the sexual noise that you had just made. But he suddenly looked up at you, his eyes previously locked on his fingers.

“Well, if y’moanin’ just from that, y’more sexually deprived than I thought.” He chuckled, and you cracked a small smile, but that was before his words actually hit you.

Was he, hitting on you?

Maybe not flirting, but that definitely wasn’t something that doctors say to their patients very often. His smirk was also giving you the idea that he had certain intentions.

“Everything seem good down’ere, so I think tha’ problem is with the guys y’gettin with, not you. What type of people do y’usually sleep with.”

“When I was sexually active, it was usually frat boys, so I guess I should’ve known I wasn’t the problem.” You let out a small laugh, Dr. Styles seems to have found it much more amusing, as his chuckle came from deep within his chest. A small movement came with the laugh, which also reminded you that his fingers were still very much inside of you.

“It seems y’need someone who knows his way around,” he cleared his throat, and you smiled as you realized what he was hinting at. “and y’my last paitent of the day, so m’more than happy t’help y’out.” He looked down at his feet shyly, and you found it adorable how he was nervous about what he was proposing. But you were on the verge of tears from how hard it was to hold back your physical response to his touches. Your body relaxed when the words came out of his mouth, and you let out the whine that had been building up in your throat.

“Yes-Harry, god yes.” It was the first time you were using his first name, but the smirk on his face showed his approval.

He quickly removed his fingers from your heat, and you whined again, this time in frustration. Losing contact left you feeling cold, but that feeling only lasted a fleeting moment, as soon as he was pushing his fingers into you again, this time bare.

“Y’already so wet love, what got y’this worked up hmm?”

“Y-you, Harry, I want you.” You tripped over your words, but they came out clear enough for him to understand because he began moving his fingers at the encouragement. His fingers began to pump in and out of you, and you knew he must have been right about not being with the right guys before, because the simple movements left you as putty in his hands. You barely got any pleasure from fingering in your other sexual encounters, but you were already a moaning mess underneath the man. He lifted his other hand, which had also had the glove on it removed, and placed the pad of his finger on your puffy clit. You mewled loudly and his smirk widened.

“Any o’those boys ever make y’feel this good darlin’?” You shook your head furiously, and he smiled, rubbing circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. You were already seeing stars, and you could feel an unfamiliar knot forming in your stomach. “Y’so pretty, did y’know tha’?”

You couldn’t muster up enough strength to respond to his second question, but the loud moan that you let out was enough of an answer for him. His movements sped up, fingers pumping in and out of you and his other thumb pressing circles on your button.

“Harry-”

“Think y’close darlin’? Ready t’come fo’ the first time?”

“Yes, yes..” Your voice trailed off when a guttural moan rumbled through your throat. Although you haven’t had one before, you were sure that he was about to bring you to an orgasm. There was a tight feeling in your stomach and you knew it was just about to burst.

“Fuck-”

The knot burst and your orgasm rolled through your body, reaching every nerve inside of you. The feeling was euphoric, and your senses were heightened as your body experienced this new feeling.

“Thas’ it, good girl,” he cooed, slowing his movements and removing his fingers from your now overly sensitive clit. He worked you through your orgasm until fully removing his fingers from you, and you let out a sigh as he did so. “Definitely not somethin’ wrong with ya’, I can tell y’that.”

He smiled up at you and you returned the gesture, your smile only faltering when he turned away to write something down. You took the opportunity to get up and change, quickly dressing while his back was turned.

He turned in his chair to face you once again, handing you a small piece of paper. You took it from between his fingers to see a phone number scribbled on it in black ink.

“Is Doctor Styles giving me his number?” You said it in a cheeky way, smirking back at him.

“Yes, and he’s telling you to text him when you get home. Doctor’s orders.”

[the7thcrow]

600 degrees

~

pairing: bang chan x (fem) reader

summary: you can’t cook. like, really can’t cook. good thing your cute neighbour is here to help clean up the mess.

word count: 5.1k

genre: neighbours au. strangers to lovers. the fluffiest of fluff, slightly suggestive.

warnings: a make-out session, bad humour, minho being a twat of a roommate, and tooth-rotting fluff.

rating: 14+

a/n: hi guys! hope you enjoy this one, it’s so much more wholesome and fluffy than what i usually write, but I'm pretty happy about it. don’t by shy to send me an ask or leave a comment. anything you have to say, I would love to hear. :)

...

..

.

“Fine. Since you won’t come, at least enlighten me on how you plan to keep yourself busy?” Minho asks, casually leaning against your kitchen island. He stares at you, with that familiar condescending smirk you’ve seen far too many times.

“I don’t know,” you state, rolling your eyes. Rising to your feet, you head over to your shared refrigerator, pulling a bottle of Sangria out of the fridge. “But I’m sure I’ll find something.”

“You know, if you want to drink, you could at least do it at the party.” Minho approaches you from behind, placing both his hands on your shoulders. “It’s a lot less sad that way.”

You slap his hand away, letting out a frustrated groan at the laughter he lets out from his own joke. “I get out plenty, quit acting like I’m some lonely cat lady,” you say, grabbing your favourite wine glass from the cupboard. “I like parties, I just don’t like Jisung’s parties. They always get way out of hand.”

“But Y/N,” Minho wines, picking up your freshly poured glass and taking a sip, earning himself a glare. “I never said you were a cat lady, just the lonely part.”

At that you snatch the glass away from his hands. Not wanting to deal with this torment any longer, you walk back to your comfortable, worn-in spot on the couch.

“You know I’m right,” he says, continuing despite the fact you begin to turn up the volume of the television. “And the only way you’re going to change that is by accompanying me to Jisung’s loud, out of hand parties.”

You turn to face him, raising your eyebrows. “Somehow, I doubt my soulmate associates himself with Han Jisung.”

“Well that can’t be right, because I associate myself with Han Jisung?”

“Shut up, Minho.”

Your roommate snickers to himself as he opens the fridge, taking a quick glance at everything - or for a better term, lack of anything - inside. “What are you even going to eat? There’s nothing leftover from last night.”

“I’ll make something,” you say. Frankly, you had expected the outburst of laughter, but that didn’t do anything to simmer down your growing annoyance.

“Make something?” Minho laughs, giving you an incredulous stare. “Y/N, I’ve lived with you for two years and I don’t think I’ve seen you cook anything once.”

“Hey, I can cook,” you return, wrinkling your nose. “But why would I, when I have you to do it for me?”

At this, it’s Minho’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah, okay, I take that back. I don’t want you to come, have fun curling up on the couch alone with your three cats.”

“They’re literally yours.”

“Whatever,” he says, opening your front door. “Just don’t burn the apartment down, alright?”

As he closes the door, you flip him off. At first, you aren’t sure if he saw, but you’re given your answer as his laughter echoes down the hallway, fading as he walks further away.

You scowl. Of course you can cook. Well, at the very least, well enough to make a meal for one on a saturday night. Minho didn’t know what he was talking about.

Minho. Your best friend and roommate for the last two years. Man, does the guy have a way of pushing your buttons. You love him, of course. In the weird, bickering, just short of volatile friendship sort of way the two of you had developed.

Still, you can’t deny that even with his painfully irritable nature, he is still a good friend. No matter how many times you say no, he always offers to take you anywhere he goes. He pushes you out of your comfort zone. He’s there to console you when a date goes bad, or you failed a test you studied hard for. He makes all his meals for two, just because he doesn’t want you to live solely off shitty take-out.

He’s your rock. Your platonic other half. Your closest companion.

Which means you are going to prove him wrong, and then rub it in his face as much as you possibly can. Of course, because that’s what friends are for.

~~~~

Then again, maybe you wouldn’t. Or, at the very least, it was going to be exceedingly more difficult now that your apartment was full of smoke.

Covering your nose with one hand, you take the tray of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. If you can even call them that, as they now held a far closer resemblance to that of hockey pucks. Both in looks, and what you could assume in taste, as well.

Okay, you know chocolate chip cookies don’t really count as a decent meal, but they are the only thing you remember how to cook from when you lived at home. Or maybe you didn’t remember, based on the tray of failure sitting in front of you.

Then, to make matters even worse, your fire alarm starts going off.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath. Now you are going to have to go to the front desk, let them know everything is okay.

Maybe Minho was right, you should’ve just went to Jisung’s stupid party and eaten something there. Putting all the other painful aspects of Han’s parties aside, Felix was his roommate, so the horderves were always excellent.

They were better than your hockey puck cookies, anyway.

Letting out a disappointed sigh, you open your apartment door, prepared to get a rough scolding from the lady working the front desk. However, you are surprised to find a man standing in front of you, his hand in the air, as if he were about to knock.

“Hi,” he says, awkwardly putting his hand back down at his side. He has messy platinum blonde hair, and soft eyes. He’s cute, and the realization quickly makes you recognize him.

“You’re my neighbor,” you say, pointing a finger at him. It’s not until he doesn’t respond immediately that you realize it was a strange thing to say. Obviously, he knows he’s your neighbor, and he might be a little offended you didn’t recognize him immediately.

Then again, the two of you had never really talked before. Everytime you would pass each other in the hall, he’d always give a polite nod and continue walking. Sometimes you’d try to say hello, or start a small conversation, but he always disappeared quickly. It had gotten to the point where you assumed he had some strange, unwarranted grudge against you.

So, it was safe to say that you were more than just a little surprised to find him at your door.

“Uh, yeah, I am. Are you okay? I thought I smelt something burning, and then I heard the fire alarm go off.” He asks, peeking behind you into your apartment, seeing if he can catch sight of any flames.

Instead, his eyes land on your tray of butchered cookies, and he… smirks?

“Oh,” he says, attempting to hide the smile growing on his face. “Having some cooking trouble?”

You stare at him for a moment, watching as his lips pursed together, stifling a chuckle. “Are you...” you begin, your jaw dropping slightly. “Are you laughing at me?”

“No,” he looks down at you, finally letting his grin free. “I would never.”

“Yeah, okay,” you frown, already not enjoying that sarcastic look on his face. You thought you’d be able to avoid that humiliating look considering Minho wasn’t here, but apparently not.

 “As you can see, it’s nothing. So if you’ll excuse me,” you continue, attempting to move past him. “I need to go get my neck rung by the lady at the front desk,” However, he doesn’t budge from his place in your door frame. You cast him a glare, which only makes his smile grow wider.

“Nah, don’t worry, I’ll go let her know,” he says, already turning to walk down the hall. You open your mouth to object, but he casts a glance over his shoulder, snickering. “You focus on cleaning up whatever those black lumps were supposed to be.”

You stand in your doorway, dumbfounded as your neighbor disappears down the complex staircase. Who did this guy think he was, openly laughing at your current predicament? Sure, if the roles were reversed, there’s no doubt that you would do the same. But that isn’t the point.

No. The point is that you are not impressed by the audacity of this stranger, and you are going to make sure that this distaste is known.

Grumbling to yourself, you dump the still smoking cookies in the trash can. It’s a shame, really. You’d thought you were doing so well, too. You thought this would be your chance to prove Minho wrong. Minho. Oh, he would be having an absolute hay day if he were here right now, and the thought only makes your scowl deepen.

“Well,” your neighbor calls from behind you, causing you to jump slightly. He reappears in the open door frame, sticking his neck inside, but not fully crossing the threshold into your apartment. “She’s not thrilled, but the alarm didn’t trigger the main system’s sprinklers, so you’re good.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

The man smiles. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly were you trying to make anyway?”

An embarrassed blush casts itself over your cheeks. “Chocolate chip cookies,” you mumble, not meeting his eyes.

He lets out a burst of laughter, smiling widely. You can’t help but notice that he had a cute smile, dimples on both of his cheeks, eyes crinkled. Not that you were looking. Not that you cared, obviously.

“How’d you manage to mess up chocolate chip cookies that badly?”

“I don’t know,” you say, shrugging your shoulders helplessly. “You tell me.” You gesture towards the oven. Your neighbor smirks, walking inside your apartment. He bends down in front of your oven, before taking a look inside.

“Well, nothing seems to be wrong in there…” he starts, before glancing up at the set temperature. “Oh,” he states, before looking back at you, his eyes full of pity. “Oh boy.”

“What?” You ask defensively.

“The temperature. You forgot to convert it from celsius to fahrenheit. See?” He says, leaning away from the oven to give you a closer look. “So you thought you were cooking them at 350 degrees fahrenheit, when in reality they were at over 600 degrees.”

“Oh my god,” you say, smacking your palm against your forehead. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I don’t know,” the guy shrugs. “You could have burnt your apartment down, so I’d consider it a win. You’re lucky I got here on time.”

You cast him a scowl, although you can’t seem to relinquish the faintest hint of a smile creeping onto your lips. You know damn well you wouldn’t have started a fire, and that the man showing up really didn’t stop anything but an uncomfortable conversation with the front lady. You are also sure that he is fully aware of this too, which makes your smirk grow wider. Alright, you’ll play along.

“Right, what ever would I do without you?” you say sarcastically, causing your neighbor to playfully roll his eyes. He leans against your kitchen counter, relaxing slightly.

“Does my saviour have a name?” You ask, opening the fridge to take a look at what’s inside. You feel your stomach rumble, taking a glance at the clock to see that it was already past 9:00.

“It’s Chris,” he smiles, leaning over your shoulder. “So what are you going to eat, now that you’ve successfully butchered the easiest recipe known to man?”

“Hey!” You snipe. “That is certainly not the easiest recipe known to man.”

“Fine, fine,” Chris says, putting his hands up in defense. “Maybe not the easiest, but it’s definitely up there. But putting that aside, what are you going to eat? Because I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever seen a fridge so empty.”

You want to quip back at him, but he’s right. Minho usually does the grocery shopping, but because of Jisung’s party tonight he wasn’t planning on cooking anything.

“Good question,” you sigh, closing the refrigerator door before leaning your back against it. “Maybe I’ll just order some take out. I don’t think my pride can handle another failure.”

Chris smiles. “Or, I have an idea,” he says, his eyes glinting. He heads over to your apartment door, and for a moment you worry that he’s leaving.

No, you’re not worried. You’re curious. That’s all. You were curious whether or not he was leaving, nothing more.

When Chris returns, he has his arms full of ingredients. Spinach, penne, tomato sauce, cream, a variety of spices. The list goes on, and he stumbles slightly, almost dropping the surplus of food onto your kitchen floor. Imagining the mess, you rush over to help him, placing the load of groceries onto the counter.

“I don’t know if you couldn’t tell before,” you say, motioning to your overflowing counter. “But I really can’t cook. I have no clue what to do with any of this.”

“That’s no problem,” Chris smiles, already separating the food into different groups. “I’ll help you.”

“No, no, no. I can’t ask you to do that,” you say, waving your hands in protest. You step in front of him, squeezing yourself between his chest and the kitchen counter, preventing him from reaching any of the ingredients. “You’ve already dealt with the desk lady for me, and brought over all these groceries. You’ve done more than enough.”

He smiles, gently placing his hands on your shoulders and effortlessly moving you to the side. “Why would I bring you these groceries if I knew you couldn’t do anything with them?” When you don’t respond, he continues. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Don’t worry about it. Just let me help you.”

You sigh in defeat, ignoring the way your heart begins to beat faster in your chest. “Alright,” you say, grabbing Minho’s cutting board from the cupboard. “Let’s do this, then.”

~~~~

An hour later, you find yourself sitting on top of your kitchen counter, Chris stationed by the stove working on the pasta sauce. You had genuinely tried to help in the beginning, you really did. But after Chris criticized your (awful) cutting technique, and said he didn’t exactly trust you to do anything else, you gave up.

Besides, you don’t have a problem watching him work. Over the last hour, you’ve come to learn that Chris is an absolute whiz in the kitchen. Moving from place to place, adding spices by intuition and nothing more. This wasn’t something you could have managed to make yourself in a million years, and it’s obvious that if you tried to assist him right now, you’d only get in the way.

Of course, you’ve learned a lot more about Chris in the last hour than just that. Where he grew up, his hobbies, what he was currently studying at the university. Music theory, as you’d learned. As cool as it sounded, Han had managed to tarnish your image of music majors, but you suppose you could give Chris a chance.

“It’s almost done,” Chris says, glancing over his shoulder to look at you.

“Thank God, I’m starving,” you reply, leaping off the counter to stand beside him.

“What, no ‘thank you, Chris?’ No, ‘what ever would I have done without you, Chris?’” He mocks offence, placing a hand on his heart.

“It’s not even done yet. I’ll thank you after I try it, I promise.” You laugh, rolling your eyes.

“Ah, so you’re only thankful if you like it. I see how it is,” Chris says, crossing his arms in front of himself, pouting his lower lip slightly.

“Guess so,” you say, crossing your own arms mockingly. Chris smiles, those cute little dimples of his dancing across his cheeks.

Then you feel it, that little jump of your heart. The faintest skip of a beat that you’d familiarized yourself with over the last hour. That little hint of anticipation that makes you decide that you are, even if only slightly, a bit interested in Chris.

After all, he’s funny and sweet. Can carry a conversation well, and to understate it, undeniably easy on the eyes. That’s more than enough to give him a chance.

Most of all, however, you like that little flare between the two of you. The sarcasm, the banter. It doesn’t feel the same as when Minho does it, slightly condescending and done purely to harbour your annoyance. No, this is different. It is a challenge. He wants you to quip back, to push further. To make him smirk, or laugh, or roll his eyes.

“Alright, fine then,” he says, taking the large wooden spoon and scooping up some of the pasta sauce. “Tell me if this is up to par, your majesty.”

You aren’t sure if he wants you to take the spoon, or let him hold it for you as you take a bite. You decide to take the gamble, gently moving your lips around the spoon, tasting the sauce. You glance up at Chris, a small look of surprise on his face. However, you don’t miss the flash of something behind his eyes. The faintest hint of affection, interest.

The sauce itself is delicious. A perfect blend of tomato, basil and cream. You hum contently, giving him a thumbs up.

“Chris, this is amazing,” you praise, admiring the small blush that sprinkles his cheeks.

“It’s really nothing,” he says, diverting his gaze and rubbing the back of his neck, shyly.

“No, seriously,” you say, taking the spoon from his hand and scooping some of the sauce up yourself. “Try it.” You hold the spoon out in front of him, and he raises his eyebrows slightly. Your gaze remains firm. A challenge.

Hesitantly, he takes the bite, not breaking eye contact as he does so. You stare at him, watching the way his lips move around the spoon, the intensity of his gaze. The action itself should be innocent, yet you feel a warmth rise to your cheeks.

Chris swallows, taking his lips off the spoon. For a moment, neither of you say anything. You can feel the change in the atmosphere of the room. The spark between you two being brought alight.

You swallow hard. “So?” You ask quietly.

“Yeah, it’s good. Very good,” he says back, his voice low and raspy. He goes to take the spoon from you, and his hand lingers a moment, his thumb trailing the skin of your knuckles.

You feel yourself lean in slightly, fully prepared to take the leap, when suddenly he breaks away from you, eagerly taking a few steps back. He looks away, placing a hand on his face, as if he were ashamed.

“Shit. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I know you’re seeing someone, we shouldn’t be doing this. I’m sorry,” he babbles, completely turning away from you.

You open your mouth to say something, but no words come out. Seeing someone? Where the hell could he have possibly gotten that idea?

“Seeing someone?” You ask, incredulously voicing your thoughts. You grab him by the shoulder, turning him around. “Why do you think I’m seeing someone?”

Chris still refuses to meet your eyes, instead focusing intently on the wall behind you. “The guy that lives here- Minho - aren’t you two?”

“Minho?” You gape, contorting your face in a look of pure disgust. “Ew, gross! No! Believe me, I am not dating Minho, I’d genuinely rather stick this spoon in my eye,” you exclaim, lifting up the utensil.

At that Chris finally looks at you, wearing his own look of pure confusion. “Wait, really? But whenever I hear you guys out in the hall, the two of you are always so… flirty.”

“Flirty?” You laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement. “If by flirty you mean he teases me literally every god damn second of every day, then yeah sure, I guess. But believe me, there is absolutely nothing romantic about that. Not in the least.”

Chris shakes his head, a smile forming at the corners of his lips. “Wow. I am such an idiot,” he sighs, a rediscovered lightness to his tone.

“No, no. Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him. “Anyone could make that mistake, I guess. It’s really no big-”

“No, it’s not just that,” he cuts you off. “That’s why I’ve never talked to you before now.”

“You never talked to me because you thought that me and Minho were dating?” You ask, slightly confused. Even if you were dating, you didn’t see why that would stop him from starting a conversation with you. “Why?”

“Well,” he sighs, his cheeks reddening further. “I thought you were pretty, and based on the way you always quipped back at him, clever and funny as well. I don’t know, it just felt wrong to try and build a friendship with you, knowing how I already felt a little....”  

You smirk, drawing yourself slightly closer to him. “A little what?”

His smile transforms itself from embarrassed to a sly grin of his own. “A little into you, I guess.”

“It really is a shame,” you shrug, trying to hide the excitement building in your chest. “Because here I was, thinking my cute neighbor had some irrational grudge against me.”

Chris leans in, so the two of you are only inches apart. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin, smell the strong fragrance of his cologne. Sharp with lemon zest and mint.

“We could always make up for lost time, you know,” he says, his eyes flashing with mischief.

That is all the invitation you need to break the space between the two of you. You press Chris’ lips against your own, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other along the line of his jaw. His lips are soft, you notice. Tender in the slow rhythm the two of you develop.

He runs his hands up along your figure. One of them finding itself locked in your hair, the other placed firmly on the curve of your lower back. Gently, he leads the two of you away from the stove, placing you so that your back is pressed up against the kitchen counter.

You run your hand down along his chest, reveling in the groan he let’s out as your fingers trail down his lower abdomen. The sound is electricity pulsing through you, charging the room and igniting the atmosphere around the two of you.

His lips leave yours, trailing your jaw before making their way down your neck. Each individual kiss is slow and sultry, sending a shiver down your spine. You take a deep breath to stable yourself, and it does not go unnoticed.

Chris smirks, shifting his gaze to meet yours. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown out with desire. “You know, if we keep this up, the pasta sauce is going to burn,” he says, letting his fingers trail along your collarbone.

“Let it,” you shrug. “I wasn’t hungry anyways.”

Chris laughs at this, leaning forward so his face brushes the crook of your neck. “Yeah, right,” he says, allowing his lips to dust your skin. Suddenly, he bites down, not enough to break through the skin, but certainly enough to leave a small mark.  

You laugh, running your hands in his hair, half-heartedly pulling him off of your neck. “Hey! That hurt,” you exclaim, only half serious.

“Sorry,” he grins, before crashing his lips into yours once again. The pace between the two of you is much faster now, each kiss more passionate. More promising. Your desire rings through you, clouding your mind in a hazy fog of lust. It is dizzying, just how much you want him at this moment.

You're certain he feels the same way, given in how tightly he grips your thigh, his breath ragged every time you break apart. It is messy. Greedy. The two of you so deeply wanting more. More of each other.

You’re about to ask if he wants to move this to the bedroom, when suddenly the apartment door swings open. It’s almost comical, how quickly you and Chris break apart, springing to opposite ends of the kitchen.

“I hate to say it, but you were right,” Minho calls as he walks inside, not yet glancing up from his phone screen. “Shit got out of hand. Someone managed to break the pool table, don’t even ask how, I don’t know either. Almost gave Felix an aneurysm. I swear the kid was about to cry, poor guy. Han had to shut everything down. So you really didn’t miss out on-” Minho stops as he sees Chris, a confused yet bemused expression crossing his face.

“Oh, hey Chan,” he says, causing you to give Chris a look.

“A nickname,” Chris mouths to you, as discreetly as he possibly can.

“What are you doing over here?” Minho asks him, crossing his arms and leaning against the door. He has that smug smirk on his face that makes you want to punch him.

“Oh, well…” Chris starts, casting you a glance. “Y/N made some food, and there was too much of it, so she invited me over.”

“Really?” Minho asks, caught off guard. He walks past you and Chris, staring at the pasta and sauce currently sitting on the oven burners. “You’re saying Y/N made this?”

“Well, yeah?” Chris says, feigning confusion. “Of course, I wouldn’t lie about something like that. Why?”

You have to stop yourself from laughing, looking at the expression of utter bewilderment on Minho’s face. Minho glances at you, narrowing his eyes, before sighing.

“Well then, I guess you proved me wrong on two things tonight, Y/N,” he says, grabbing a bowl from the cupboard.

“What are you doing?” You ask as he begins to scoop some of the penne into his dish.

“Oh, you said there was a lot,” Minho responds, raising one eyebrow. “Can I not have some?”

“Sorry, go ahead,” you say, still slightly flustered by the abruptness of his entrance. Minho finishes filling his bowl and takes a seat at the kitchen island. As he begins to eat, the room is filled with a rather tense silence. You and Chris share an awkward look, unsure of what to do next.

Minho looks up from his dish, glancing between the two of you.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, grabbing his bowl and standing up from his chair. “I’m going to go eat this in my room. Have fun you two.”

Before you can say anything, Minho disappears around the corner, down the hallway leading to his room. You turn back towards Chris. The two of you stare at each other for a moment, before bursting out into a fit of laughter.

“He’s a bit of a mood-killer, huh?” You say, grabbing two bowls from the cupboard, offering him one.

Chris nods in thanks as he takes the bowl from your hands. “Just a little bit,” he laughs, beginning to scoop some of the pasta into both of your dishes.

The two of you take a seat at your counter, spending the meal talking and laughing. Nothing else, the moment has passed, but that doesn’t bother you. You enjoy Chris’ presence. His quick humour and thoughtful conversation.

It really is something that you could get used to, you decide.

After you’re done eating, you walk Chris over to the door, handing him his surplus of spice bottles and leftover spinach.

“Thank you for doing all this, seriously. The food was delicious, you’re seriously gifted. And also, thank you for covering for me, I really didn’t feel like listening to Minho die laughing over the burnt cookies,” you admit.

“It’s no problem, really,” Chris smiles. He shifts all the spices over to his right arm, letting his free hand fall down to his side. Softly, he takes your hand in his, letting your fingers intertwine.

“Listen,” he continues, shyly looking up from your hands to meet your eyes. “If you’re not doing anything tomorrow, you’re welcome to come over for a proper dinner. You know, so I can show you what I can actually make when it’s not a last minute attempt at salvaging a meal.”

You smile a goofy, genuine grin. “That sounds good to me,” you say. Hesitantly, you lean forwards, planting a soft, innocent kiss on his lips.

As you break apart, he hums contently. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, thanks for today. You made my night, Y/N.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Chris.” You watch as he walks over to his apartment door, which is of course, only a few meters away from your own. When he disappears into his own apartment, you sigh, closing your own door behind you. You lean against the frame, letting out a shaky breath, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. It’s been so long since you’ve held any genuine interest in someone, you feel almost giddy.

That is until you see Minho, leaning against the corner of the kitchen wall, watching you with his cheshire smirk.

“Dinner tomorrow, huh?” He asks, walking into the kitchen and scooping himself the last of the pasta.

“What about it?” You retort, not giving in to that pestering look in his eyes.

“Oh, nothing. I’m sure it’ll be good, considering Chan clearly made this,” Minho says, shoveling some of the pasta into his mouth.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, grabbing two wine glasses from the cupboard.

“Save it, the lady at the front desk told me you almost set the apartment on fire,” Minho laughs as you pour the wine.

You let out a groan, handing him his glass. “God dammit.”

“Don’t blame her though,” he smiles, leaning back and taking a sip. “I wouldn’t have believed you could have cooked that anyway.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“Had me fooled for a second there though,” he says, patting you on the head. “But more importantly, you like Chan huh?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right. Nice hickey, by the way,” he smirks, raising his eyebrows.

You pull up the collar of your shirt, casting him a glare. “Okay, maybe I do,” you shrug. “What’s it to you?”

“Nothing,” he replies, before taking a second to think. “Just please don’t fuck him or anything tomorrow. Walls are thin.”

You laugh, taking your glass of wine and flopping yourself back down on the living room couch.

“Shut up, Minho.”

~

thanks for reading loves <3

[hypersonicxd-blog]

Obey

You stumble through the compound door clumsily, smashing into the cold arch of the doorway. "Sorry" You mutter looking back to check the arch was okay, you hesitate, shaking your head trying to clear the fog mixing in your brain. You have just got back from a mission; the only problem being you couldn't remember the mission; well the end of it. You walked into the mission room, finding your teammates sat around the oval table.

You gulp as you stand in the doorway, breath hitching in your throat. "Shut the door." Your boss snaps, you gulp obeying immediately. You freeze in place, scared for the debrief to begin. "Sit down." Fury orders again, already tired of your shit. You drop in your place automatically sitting where you were stood. You register a snicker from Tony.

"Don't be a smart ass Agent Hale, get your ass up." Again your body shoots up before your brain has the chance to process the command. "Take a seat." Fury orders again, this time pointing to a vacant seat between Steve and Bucky. You body obeys, rushing over and sitting in the seat, Steve shoots you a caring glance, worry in his eyes. You try to nod at your best friend, but only manage to move your head a fraction. "Agent Hale, eyes front." You head snaps back to look at the director of Shield, missing the confused glance Bucky was shooting your way.

"Mission report" He snaps, growing increasingly annoyed at your behaviour. He was used to your stubbornness and sassy tones, it's why he never paired you with Tony. He couldn't cope with you both at the same time. This behaviour was odd. "Yes Sir, so we got to New York, we were fighting the Chitauri, we managed to close the portal that was allowing more ships through and now here we are." You say, recalling what you could. In reality you could not remember anything from the portal closing, to walking into the compound.

Your mind was a complete blank as you try to think about why you hadn't come back with the team. "Right, but where did you go?" He presses. A rather masculine British voice breaks through the fogginess of your mind an answer. 'When they ask, tell them you went for a pint to celebrate. You fell and knocked your head pretty bad, hence why your a bit hazy on details.'

You clear your throat and repeat the words; "I went for a pint, to celebrate. I fell and knocked my head pretty bad, hence why I'm a bit hazy on details." You say, staring at Fury. "You went for a pint?" Fury seethes the same time Bucky and Steve speak. "You mean a beer, your ain't British doll." "Shit are you okay?" You maintained your eye contact with Fury as your answered his question. "Yes I went for a pint." You turned to Steve "I'm good Capsicle." You turn your glare on Bucky. "Same thing robocop."

"You sure, Bruce should check you out." Nat voices, concern on her face. The same male voice piques in your head. 'No, tell them you're fine. It won't be good for you if they investigate further, or for the people you love.' "I'm fine, I promise the medics checked me out before I left." You lie. "I thought you said you didn't remember anything after your fall." Bucky questions, your turn slightly and shoot him a glare. "I said I was hazy of details, clean your ears out gramps." Tony laughs, clapping his hands together.

"Well that's definitely the Y/N we all know and love, so I'd say everything is fine." He makes to stand when Fury orders him to sit back down, he huffs but did as he was told. "This is not fine, Loki is still at large, we have no idea when he will strike again." You scrunch your face in confusion, before righting your face to neutral expression. 'Who the hell if the Loki?' "I will ask Heimdall to keep me updated if Loki appears anywhere within the 9 realms." Thor speaks up.

"Loki is your brother Thor, shouldn't you know him well enough to find him." Again you felt confusion flood your mind; 'Why was this the first time hearing of this man, who was supposedly Thor's brother? You tighten your lips not wanting to interrupt with a question that would draw more attention to your current predicament. 'Good girl.' The same male voice purrs in your mind, you almost gasp at the jolt the praise sends to your core, quickly schooling your reaction. You look at your hands in even more confusion. 'I will explain in dew time, my pet.'  You freeze slightly. You tune out of the conversation going on around you. 'I'm going crazy. Maybe I did really hit my head.' 'No pet, not crazy. Now focus and be a good little obedient pet, for me.'

'Yes Sir.' You tune out of your head snapping your attention back to the room, the conversation coming too a close with the dismissal of the agents. You make to stand and leave, when Fury's voice calls you back. Telling you to sit back down, he wasn't done with you yet. Steve gives your shoulder a squeeze on his way out, leaning into your ear.

"I'll come find you later, don't sass him. It will only make it worse." You nod as he stands and pats your shoulder once more before leaving the room. You turn your full attention back to your boss and settle in for your lecture.

~

A hour later you leave the briefing room, huffing to yourself. 'An hour of your day wasted, just great.' The fogginess in your head has simmered into a dull cloud allowing clearness to peak through like sunshine in an over cast sky. 'Not a waste pet, I now know exactly how much they know about me.' You smile to yourself, happy to please the mysterious voice.

'So I did good, sir?'

'Yes pet, I'm very proud. Now I have some business to attend to so I won't be in your head as such for a while. Do you remember the rule kitten?'

'Yes Sir, I am to obey my teammates, so they do not question me. I need to be believable, keep them happy and keep our interaction a secret.'

'Good girl,' the voice purrs. You preen again at the praise and rub your thighs together as you walk. You're looking down as the fogginess starts to once again cloud your mind, your body bumps into something again. "Sorry" You mutter expecting to see another door frame, instead your eyes fall on Bucky. "Did you just apologise to me?" He smirks, you roll your eyes at him and shove past him. "Wait." He orders, your body freezing without your consent. You glare at the floor, trying to figure out why you couldn't move. "Apologise, you just slammed into me, twice." He says smugly, taunting you. "Sorry for slamming into you, twice." His eyes widen slightly.

"Wow, I didn't actually think you would." Bucky pauses. "You must have really hit your head doll." He laughs. "Don't call me that." You snap angrily, he glares at you a smirk playing on his lips still. "Oh I'll call you whatever I want, got that?"

"Yes Sir." You hear James' breath hitch, but he doesn't say anything. "Can I go now?" You huff, as you watch confusion flush his face, but he still doesn't respond. As if trying to figure something out. "Please Sir?" You ask impatiently. You just wanna go vent to Steve and then have a bath. "You can go." He pauses as your feet lift to storm off. "After you've given me a kiss doll." He teases, testing his theory. Your body obeys without your brain obeying, you approach Barnes before leaning and placing your lips on his and kissing him. His metal hand reaches and wraps through your hair, pulling you closer.

 After a few seconds, he pulls back smirking. "This is going to be fun, doll." He releases you and walks away, calling over his shoulder. "You can go now Kitten." You walk off confused. Why had you just kissed Barnes, you hated him and he hated you. Or at least that's what you thought. You shake your head and storm off in the direction of Steve's room. You reach his room and walk in without knocking, your eyes scan the room finding no sign of Steve. You sigh and head over to his bed, flopping onto it and laying on your back.

'Why on earth did Barnes want me to kiss him? Why did I kiss him? Why did I not just flip him off and leave? Did I want to kis -' You're pulled from your thoughts by Steve walking into the room. "Of course, help yourself to my bed." Steve groans, as he approaches the bed, joining you. You turn to face him and take in his appearance, beads of water rest on his chest, dripping down his sides as he lays next to you. Your eyes travel further down his body taking in how the towel is wrapped around him, how it parts slightly at the legs.

'Damn, what I'd give for that towel to just fall open.' You sigh, rolling your eyes at yourself. You force yourself back onto your back, looking at the ceiling. 'Keep your legs crossed.' "Did Fury give you a hard time?" Steve asks, turning to face you. "Of course he did, guy needs to remove the lead pipe from his ass, may be a little bit more tolerable then." You admit. "And did you sass him?" He asks, looking at you intently. You turn yourself to him once again, keeping your eyes on his face.

"No Captain, I was well behaved." You mock as you prop yourself up on your arm. "Good girl" Steve teases. You bite your lip as your core throbs. 'What is wrong with me?' Your clench your thighs slightly as your core throbs for a second time, you whimper softly as you feel the wetness pooling in your panties. Steve notices your thighs clenching and moves his gaze down, you follow his eye line and see his towel has fell open, from lying on his side. You gasp as you see the angry looking head of his erection. A drop of precum hangs from the tip, tempting you to taste.

You rub your thighs together, trying to get some much needed friction. "Like what you see baby?" Steve asks, a smirk on his face. You choose not to answer, instead closing your eyes to try and calm yourself. "Don't ignore me." He growls, gripping your face. "Sorry Captain" You start, he tightens his hold on your chin. "Answer my question." He demands, mischief in his eyes.

"I like what I see." You moan as your core throbs, releasing more slick. "Show me how much you like it babygirl." He orders, releasing your face. Before you can decide otherwise your body moves off the bed, till your kneeling in front on Steve. He perches himself on his elbows, giving you his full attention.

"Well..." He pushes. Your hand reaches up, unwrapping the towel from his body, you groan as you clench around nothing. Your finger wrap around his member, your fingers not meeting due to his girth. Your hand rubs up over the tip softly causing Steve to buck his hips into your fist. You use his precum to ease the slide of your hand. "Fuck Y/N." You tighten your fist slightly, rotating your hand on the upstroke.

"Fuck, use your mouth and get it nice and wet for me." Steve purrs as he watches you. You lean forward and capture the tip in your mouth, laving over the head before moving your lips down his shaft. You begin to bob your head up and down in addition to your hand movements. "Fuck, I knew you'd be amazing at this with those lips of yours." Steve groans, pushing you up. "You're gunna let me fuck your face, okay?"

"Yes Captain." You obey. Steve stands up, guiding you up until your level with his crotch. "Open up for me, you slut." He hisses as he pushes forward, pressing his tip against your lips. You obey, opening your mouth for him to slot himself in, which he does. Sliding home in one thrust, his head breaches your throat and you fight to stop yourself from gagging. You place your hands on his thighs as he draws out.

"Breathe baby." He purrs, before sliding back in your mouth again, throat constricting around the head of his cock. You groan around his member as he thrusts in and out of your mouth relentlessly. "Fuck, you're too good at this" He groans as his hips speed up chasing the sweet relief.

"Hey Stev-" Bucky's voice cuts short as his eyes fall upon the scene in front of him. His blood begins to boil, anger consuming him. "What the fuck are you doing?" He screams storming over to you. Your mouth stays on Steve's shaft as he keeps his pace, too caught up in the feeling. "Y/N! Get off him." Bucky orders, your body obeys trying to pull off Steve immediately. Steve follows your face, chasing his orgasm, not caring about his best friend being there. He thrusts into your throat one last time before Bucky pulls you back. Steve groans as his hips still and his member pulses, painting your face with his release. Steve doesn't get to enjoy his climax too much as Bucky's fist soon connects with the side of his face.

"You knew! YOU FUCKING KNEW HOW I FELT ABOUT HER?! HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME" Bucky screamed punching him once more. Steve just laughs. "She wanted it, trust me." You could see Bucky getting even angrier, before you could stop yourself you stood up placing yourself between the two super soldiers. "Bucky stop." You beg, holding your hands in a pleading motion.

He looks at you, your plump lips, covered with his best friends discretion. Your watery eyes, from being throat fucked, by someone he trusted. "Fine" He snaps at you, looking at you with venomous eyes. His gaze settles back on Steve. "You need to back the fuck off, she's mine." He hisses, grabbing your wrist and pulling you from the room. "We'll see about that" Steve's voice follows you as you're pulled towards Bucky's room.  Bucky's grip on your wrist doesn't lessen as he drags you through the compound towards his room.

He drags into his room, slamming the door behind you turning the lock into place. Before you get a chance to protest Bucky is ushering you towards the bathroom. "Strip" He commands, your fingers shake as you obey him, without question. Your body moving on its own accord. You reach up to your combat jacket and undo the zip as quick as you can, not wanting to anger or displease the super soldier in front of you. You could still fell Steve's release on your face, sliding down your neck and you shivered as your jacket slid from your arms.

Once your jacket fell to the floor you bent at the hip to untie your combat boots, before standing and toeing them off. You reach for the hem of your vest and tug it up out of your pants before bringing it over your head, trying not to tarnish is with the cum on your face. You next unbuttoned your pants, shimmying out of them. You looked at Bucky as you stood only in your black bra and black lace panties, it was the plainest set you owned. But it was still cute and you knew you looked good in it. You lock eyes with Bucky as you stand tall, proud almost. You notice the icy blue of his eyes has practically disappeared, being replaced with black. You gulp, you know that look. Had seen it aimed your way so many times. You just never thought you would be on the receiving end of that look from Bucky Barnes.

You thought he hated you, so you were very confused right now, not just about him. But Steve as well and why the hell you had obeyed to strip in front of the super soldier. You couldn't stop though and a fullness in your stomach told you, you didn't mind it as much as you thought you would. You rubbed your thighs together subconsciously. Buck smirked as he caught your action, he reached a hand down to adjust himself, groaning as his palm brushed his arousal. His action caught your attention and your gaze was drawn to his crotch. You gasped as you took in the bulge that had formed in his pants.

"If you thought Steve was big, you're in for a shock with me doll." He purrs as he motions to your bra and panties, a non verbal command you quickly rush to obey. He watches you reach behind yourself to unhook your bra and chooses to talk again. "Even better than Steve, I was always big, so the serum only made me bigger by a little. Steve's is mainly serum." He huffs a laugh, not caring that he's talking shit about Steve. He put his hands on my girl, he thought angrily. He watched intensely as your hands reach to the straps, sliding them down your arms, allowing your breasts free from their captors.

Bucky groans as he absorbs the image of your breasts greedily, eyes falling on the shining glimmer underneath your stiff nipples. "Fuck, I'd hoped you had your nipples pierced, whenever I'd look I always had a feeling you had them done from the outline." He purred as he reached to palm himself through his pants. "You've stared at my tits?" You question, hands moving to your panties. Your brain prompts you to stop, but your body doesn't let you as you hook your thumbs into the side of them, drawing them down your legs in an almost seductive manner. "Yeah doll, I 've stared as pretty much every part of you. You're just to dense to notice." You halt your movements.

"I didn't say stop, did I. Panties off." He orders as he steps forward. "I'm not dense." You snap, removing your panties and standing up, trying to cover your body slightly. "Ah don't cover up. Let me see you." He purrs stepping forwards. "And you are dense when it comes to some things doll, like seeing that you drive me absolutely fucking insane. You can't even imagine how many times I've thought about bending you over the meeting table and fucking that sass you like to spew so much out of you." He growls as he pulls you flush to him.

You startle slightly at his admission. "Bucky, please don't." You know its futile, you don't understand how you ended up here, why you'd even listened to him in the first place. "Don't what doll. I'm not doing anything." He replies, as his finger traces the curve of your breast, ghosting over your pert bud. "You're going to shower, I'm just here to make sure you clean yourself." He pauses as he pinches your nipple between his fingers. "Thoroughly, we don't want you missing a spot, now do we." He purrs as he pushed you towards the shower. He opens the door and reaches in for the switch, setting the water to a mild temperature.

He didn't want it to be too hot as he didn't plan on letting you relax to much, that and the coolness would help cool you both down. He motioned for you to step into the shower, but you hesitated, finally feeling like you had a ounce of control over your own body. "In the shower Y/N. Don't make me repeat myself. You won't like what happens." He growls the last part as he removes his t-shirt, throwing it in the corner on the floor. He smirks when you obey this time, reaching to pop the button of his pants open.

He watches you stand under the fall of water, washing away the disrespect of his so called best friend. He removes his pants and boxers in one move, before joining you quickly and crowding you against the wall. "So how is it that Steve got you on your knees for him, huh?" He pushes you as he cages you with his arms against the cold shower wall. You shiver as the cold washes over you, arching away from the wall slightly and pushing your breasts against Bucky. Your nipples run against his chest teasingly and you moan at the contact, feeling the jolt it sends to your centre.

"I don't know" You admit honestly as you shake the lustful thoughts from your mind. "I know." Bucky laughs, crowding against you further so he's flush against you, his length poking your thigh. You look at him in the eyes. "How?" You ask. He ignores you and brings his hand to your head cupping your face and bringing it to his. "Doesn't matter. But tell me something honestly. Do you like Steve?" He is face is a mere breath away from yours now, your heart pounding in your chest. 'How is Bucky Barnes of all people making me go weak in the knees.'

'Sshh Pet, I wanna see how this plays out.' The voice purrs , his tone a mixture of lust and amusement. 'Sorry Sir.' You prompt immediately, angry at yourself for disappointing the voice. 'It's okay Kitten, I know you're confused and I will explain all in dew time. Right now though I need to see more of you. I want to devour you.' The voice rasps, you gasp as Bucky grips your throat, drawing the focus back to him.

"ANSWER ME" He roars at you. You whimper slightly as your body releases another wave of slick. "Of course I like Steve, he's my best friend." You say, as you try to make yourself smaller, hoping you can disappear. "You don't just suck off your best friend doll. Me and Steve are- were best friends for 70 years and I never once sucked him off nor he me." He laughed as your face blanched. "SO I'll ask one more time doll. Do you have romantic feelings for Steve?" He demands. "No Sir. I think he is attractive and sexy, but I only see him as a best friend. I don't know why I did what I did. It's like I couldn't stop." You huff out.

'Be careful Pet, can't have you letting out my secret. You intrigue me. But don't think that will save you, if you fuck this up.' The voice warns sternly. You gulp; 'I'm sorry Master, I'll do better I promise.' You hear a dark pleased chuckle bounce through your head. 'Good girl, now give this fellow a kiss, one so passionate he drops his arms. I want you to place your front on the glass door. So I can see you better. Okay kitten?' The voice purrs.

You almost lunge forwards at Bucky trying to obey the voice, but stop yourself from crashing into him just in time, allowing a more gently touching of your lips. You put all the emotion into the kiss you could muster, lust, anger, fear, love. You kissed Bucky like your life depending on it, moaning into him as his hands wrapped around your lower back, pulling you impossibly closer to his body. Bucky's tongue probed your bottom lip, but you hesitated for a second too long, causing Bucky to reach down and pinch your ass with his vibrainium hand. You yelp into the kiss, Bucky taking this opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth.

You manage to manoeuvre yourself so that your back is flush with the glass of the door. 'Your ass would look beautiful brandishing my mark, pet.'  You moan into the kiss as your pussy throbs, a weird sensation falling over you. You moan again as you feel the sensation travel up your thigh. You feel Bucky's hands, one is cupping your breast the other is palming your ass, so what is touching your thigh. You get drawn back to Bucky as he bites your lip, creating a small cut and suckling at the blood there. He groans as his hips thrust against you, his erection rubbing against your thigh.

That explains it, you think. You feel yourself being spun around as Bucky slams your front against the door, previously warmed by your back it doesn't make you gasp, what does is the glowing emerald eyes staring back at you. 'Master?' You ask, the person smirks and nods. 'Yes Kitten, you look ravishing. I bet you feel it too. Shame this oaf is going to get you, before I do.' He purrs. You freeze slightly at the implication Loki just told you. Now he's in front of you, you recognize the black haired god. The one you were supposed to take down on the earlier mission. 'Hold on you're Thor's brother?'

'Adopted brother, but yes Kitten. Now shush and enjoy this.'  You stare at Loki in confusion, but don't ask any further questions as instructed you shush and enjoy the sensation of Bucky rubbing soap onto your shoulders and back. "Gotta get you all clean, pretend you and Steve never happened. Mine." Bucky says to himself as he kneels and begins working on your legs. You feel the phantom sensation again on the vee of your pussy, it feels like fingers trailing along the skin. You gasp as you feel a long, thin finger brush through your folds.

You look up at the man on the other side of the glass, noticing the green swirling around his hand as he makes circular motions. You moan as the phantom fingers circle your bud, applying just the right pressure to bring you so close to the edge. Bucky works on scrubbing your knees, moving to your thighs, as another phantom hand joins the mix, two long fingers thrusting deep into your centre, you arch your body. You hear Bucky groan as you all but shove your ass in his face, he teasingly nips at your check. "Patience doll." He teases as he rubs soft motions on the inside of your thighs.

'Poor guy has no idea you're about to cum, does he. I was gunna just watch.'  The voice paused as the thrusting fingers sped up and the fingers circling your clit  increased speed and pressure. 'But I decided I want to be the one who makes you cum first tonight Kitten.' He smirks as he locks eyes with your through the slightly foggy glass. You bite your lip as your legs begin to shake. Bucky moves from your thighs, standing flush against you, his erection slips between your thighs, rubbing along your folds. Pushing the phantom fingers impossibly deeper.

'Be a good girl and cum for your master.' Loki maintains eyes contact with you as Bucky's hands grope your breasts toying with your nipples. The extra stimulation sends you over the edge as you gush over the phantom hands and Bucky's length, you bite your lip to keep in your cry of ecstasy. 'Good girl Kitten, shame I had to waste my seed on a rag though. You would look delectable round with my child.' Loki purrs. "Did you just cum?" Bucky asks confusion evident in his tone. You don't answer, but whimper in reply. "Words doll, use them." Bucky spins you around to face him, seeing the flush of red on your face, already answering his question.

"Yeah I just came, I'm sorry." You begin, before Bucky crashes his lips to yours in a searing kiss. "Don't apologise babydoll, that was so fucking hot. You squirted untouched as I played with your nipples. Fuck. I was gunna wait but I need you now." He lifts you up so you wrap your legs around his hips, his length resting against your entrance. "Tell me you need me, tell me you want me." He begs, knowing you'll do what he says. He knows he shouldn't be taking advantage of you, but he's past caring. "I want you Bucky.." You say as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. "I need you Bucky." You pant in his ear, he thrusts into you as hears the final word leaving your mouth. He slams into you, groaning into your neck as your tight channel grips his cock.

"So tight for me baby girl." He purrs as he begins a brutal pace of thrusting in and out your wet walls. "Do you feel that baby, feel how your walls cling to me. How you fit me like a... " Bucky groans as he feels you clench around him, your orgasm fast approaching. "Like a fucking glove. Fuck. I'm gunna cum. Got me so worked up by squirting on my cock. My little cock slut. All mine." He growls as you whimper, nails digging into his back. "You gunna cum again baby? Gunna cum all over my cock, milk my cock so you can be filled with my cum?"

You moan as you capture Buckys lips. "You like that? Wanna be my cum slut?" He growls as his pace slams into you, probably leaving bruises on your ass from how hard his thighs are slamming into it. "CUM" He demands as his cock twitches inside of you, his thick release coating your insides. Your body obeys him as you seize and your orgasm floods you, drowning you in euphoria. You feel your vision start to blur, as your eyes fading to black.

[lyraeeee]

to protect || xiao

part one - weak

series masterlist

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pairing : xiao & gender neutral!reader themes : mostly fluff, i guess? word count : 1.3k

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Xiao remembers the day he first saw you.

It was clear from your attire that you weren’t from Liyue at all.

Did you hail from Mondstadt? Sumeru? Inazuma?

He did not know, nor did he care enough to find out.

All he was aware of was the screams that came from your mouth as a group of hilichurls attacked you for disrupting their camp.

...You’re foolish.

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He was beautiful. This man that you held no familiarity with whatsoever... he looked like a being out of this world. The blood dripping down your bare arm was forgotten; you didn't feel the pain as all your attention was directed to the handsome young man meters away from you. Your throat hurt as you continued to pant. The tree that you were currently leaning on dug itself further into your back, only causing more blood to seep out into your clothes. None of that mattered however. Of course, why would any of it matter in the first place? Not when you’re sitting awkwardly in front of the most beautiful person you've ever laid your eyes on. You’re pretty sure that you just came face to face with a literal god. A pair of striking amber eyes bore into your own. He saved you. Averting your eyes, you suddenly found the dissipating bodies of the already dead hilichurls much more interesting. Even their blood that stained your rust-covered weapon along with the stranger’s beautiful jade spear, it began to slowly fade away. A faint huff can be heard from the man, “What did you think you were doing?” His voice held authority; he wasn’t asking you for an answer, no, he was demanding to hear one from you. It’s only deserving that you give him what he wanted, really, seeing as if it weren’t for him you would’ve been dead by now. “I…” raising one of your arms to shield your eyes, you choked out, “I just needed ten arrowheads for a commission...” You hear him scoff; it wasn’t really a surprise considering how trivial your explanation seemed in exchange for such chaos along with a few bruises and cuts here and there. Despite the fact that you had trouble breathing, you let out a laugh at his response. Your chuckling was cut short however when sudden coughs erupted from your throat. The coughing fit made you groan in pain as you leaned further into the tree. All of your energy was spent finishing the previous commissions you took as well as from the intense fighting with the group of hilichurls earlier. Given your situation, you realize that sooner or later the fatigue will get to your already weak body; it won’t be long before you finally lose consciousness. Thinking back to it, maybe you shouldn’t have declined that certain traveler’s offer to come along with you in your journey. Truthfully speaking, it was even a miracle that your cries were carried by the wind, delivered to this handsome individual you’re fortunate enough to call your savior. You moved your arm away from your face when you felt a looming presence in front of you. A gloved hand obscured your vision of your current surroundings. Glancing towards his eyes, you notice that he’s staring directly at you. “Get up. I’ll take you to somewhere safe.” You quickly shift your gaze to the side as you reach over to his hand. Surprisingly, he was really gentle with you, pulling you carefully towards him to help you up your feet. Once you find yourself upright, his grip lingers for a short while before he eventually lets go and turns to face the other direction. “Follow me.”

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He’s only a few steps away... yet it definitely feels like he’s trying his best not to stay too close with you. It’s almost like he’s avoiding you. You attempted to walk faster to keep in step with him, not bothering with the way you visibly limped. Yet it seems like the said stranger would also walk a couple steps further, maintaining the distance between the two of you. This is honestly getting ridiculous. You breathed in deeply and sighed. Glancing at the back of the man’s head, it was only then did you notice the multiple black dots that danced around the corners of your vision. Slowly, everything around you began to be a bit more blurry than what you last remember. You struggled to keep up with your savior. In a haste, you grabbed the sleeve on his left arm before he could once again try to leave you behind. “What are you-” both of his eyes glared at you before they widened after looking into your own.

“Please,” you stumbled on one of your feet before trying to regain balance, “protect me while I rest for a while…”

His arms wrapped themselves around you when your legs finally decided to give out. You had trouble with trying to keep your eyes open; you could only let the darkness take you into the land of dreams while the last thing you can recall is him positioning you so he could carry you on his back, the wind around you gentle and did its job to make you feel like you were floating.

He finally found you.

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“Yes, just climb the stairs until you reach the highest floor. Either place it on the floor or at the table, any is fine really.”

The manager of the inn you were staying at, Verr Goldet, you believe her name is, she was really kind and understanding of your current predicament.

You weren’t sure if it’s because she was in a good mood or perhaps something else happened that you entirely weren’t aware of, but she has been very accommodating considering how you only have literal scraps and a few mora left, not enough to actually pay her for taking care of you.

It was certainly generous of her as well to request one of the healers staying at the inn to do a check up on you after you passed out and awoke from your sleep.

Clearly, your luck has been good to you for a suspiciously long amount of time now.

The only problem is that you haven't had a glimpse of your unnamed savior for the past two days that you’ve been awake.

Since you finally have the energy to move around and do the stuff how you normally would, you asked Verr if there was anything that you could do to help around the inn as payment for how you’ve practically stayed there for free for five days.

Funnily enough, she didn’t ask you to do anything for her, but instead suggested that you offer a bowl of Almond tofu to one of the adepti that was apparently residing around the inn.

“Do you think they will appear to me after I offer this to them?” you inquired the woman while gesturing to the bowl that settled in between your hands.

A laugh came, “Well I can’t guarantee you myself that they’ll appear to you right away,” she sent you a knowing look, “I guess you’ll just have to find it out for yourself, no?”

You chuckled and shook your head.

Trudging up the stairs, you failed to notice a pair of golden eyes that watched your every move in the darkness.

Once you reached the highest floor, you headed towards a small table right beside a rock model and placed the bowl of tofu down.

You went ahead to get closer to the railings of the balcony, the view of the beautiful green lands of Dihua Marsh greeting you.

The gentle wind passing by brushed your face, making you smile, “Whoever you are out there...”

Your eyes glanced down to your hand, the same one that held your savior’s, “...I wish to see you again.”

Suddenly sensing another presence beside you, you forgot how to breathe as you saw none other than the man who saved you from before, taking his time admiring the view from the balcony.

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Hello once again traveler! You finally found Alatus Nemeseos! Unfortunately, you will still have to wait for a while to finally see how the main story will work out. The story is kinda slow, don't you agree? Ah! No need to worry! I'm sure things will work out soon... well, hopefully as least. The story is already written in the stars! Still, I'm excited to see how things turns out myself.