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glassrowboat · 2 months

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I'll Be Your Oxygen; I'll Be Your Home. Baizhu.

Summary: A single day can take your entire life and spin it off course, sending a ship steering one way an entire new direction all from a storm, or in this case, a chance run in wirh a mermaid. For you, what took this day off course was a single hook embedded in your tail, and from there, everything spiraled.

Author's note: This was supposed to be for mermay, but we all see how well that worked out so fuck it. Just enjoy.

Hey fuckers (Risse says lovingly) come here. @sunderingstars @auphelia @runawaymun

Word count: 14, 600+

A hook.

Glimmering in the sun's rays that reached under the water, like a gentle hand, to caress along your black and orange scales. Peaking past the surface, you hid yourself under to cast the metallic insult alight.

Shimmering.

It's funny how something that could appear so beautiful was the same cause for your bleeding. Wisps of red muddying the silver hue that was unabashedly pierced through your fin. Swirling around you as it danced in the water before getting swept up in the tide.

Many back home had taken to decorating themselves, to adorning their bodies with jewelry that fell from the islands above, seaweed, and even pink pearls. Strings of those shiny lusters had been a common sight for you once upon a time, seeing them every time another had swam past. You were no exception to indulging, either, letting them cover you as you smiled at the sight.

The thing is, you didn't exactly do this intentionally, not this time. Not while you were in foreign waters, ones that soaked into your gills in a way that still took you some time to get used to.

The salt had a way of numbing your tongue.

The taste was intrusive, always there even as your head rose out of the water earlier that day. Overhead chatter has you turning your gaze up to marvel at the harbor you chose to linger near.

Landmarks always proved to be handy now that you were lacking the tower that was so tall it might as well have loomed over everything.

Your ears popped, making it all the easier to listen to the gossip about the world above those two-legged creatures seemed so fond of. (Humans, you had learned they were called). Deals being struck all in the name of contracts and the jingle of those shiny coins they seemed to like sharing between each other as you peeked through the gaps of the wooden planks separating you from them. Footfalls occasionally have you pull back to hide behind one of the many beams that were lacquered over in some sort of substance that had you washing your webbed hands off.

Curiosity has led you here again and again.

At first, it was because of strange items, ones you've never seen the likes of before suddenly showing up in the sands of the reef you resided in. Half buried by the time you clawed them out of their newfound grave. Then it happened again. Another bewitching artifact that seemed to sing to you to keep it safe.

Plastic bags, a decorative mask, a handle of some sort, and fishnets all landing on what might as well be your front doorstep. Tangled in the bright corals.

Item after item that got carried in the currents you followed back to this place of barnacle covered wood, loud noises, and giant gates that seemed to welcome anyone in. Even you as you slinked around under the city.

One that apparently dropped shiny gold coins between the planks of the boardwalk. You couldn't help but dive after them just for the chance to stare at the trifecta with awe. The sounds of a person cursing above for daring to let the glittering rain fall from their hand drowned out as soon as you ducked below the water.

That's when your fin got trapped in something.

Trying to fight it only seemed to make you more wrapped up in its embrace. Tugging, trying to swim away as something pierced your fin. Not even your huff of fury scared it off as you jerked until the water was disturbed, a splash above you.

That was all you needed to flee. Ducking

between the floating devices resting on the surface. Some with scratches right along the bottom that were clear proof they had once upon a time been in the tides. Hulls most likely scraped up by the jagged rocks off to the island barely even a few miles away from the harbor. A fact that seemed to encourage a certain human with a standout personality (yes, that was a nice way to put it) into ice bridging his way across.

Which is how you had ended up here, hissing every time you poked at the wound in a futile attempt to yank the hook out.

Warm sand would usually be a comfort as you simply laid atop the grainy texture and soaked in the sounds of waves crashing against land now feeling invasive. It stuck to you in the worst of ways, grains covering your wound like it was a patch rather than something that only made this situation all the worse as you tried to brush it away to no avail. If anything, it seemed to only make it worse.

“Oceans below,” you muttered as the scuttering of crabs filled your ears. Had you really been here that long even they had started to simply accept your presence despite being notorious scaredy cats? The sound of scuttering behind you is unwelcome. Unwarranted, even as you stared at the mess you found yourself on.

Maybe curiosity was a bad thing.

Actually, the sound was a little too loud for some crabs, no matter how many there might be. That fact alone had you tensing up, shoulders locking into a tight posture as you looked behind you.

Head snapping back to see green hair that bristled slightly in the wind and eyes the same color as a golden koi trapped behind some glass contraption on this man's face. Your fins couldn't help but twitch at the sight, aching for the comfort of those creatures that would swim around you in circles, especially when you registered the odd creature wrapped around his neck.

A human stood before you.

A human has spotted you.

“Miss, are you alright?” He called out. Talking to you. You, rather than others of his kind as they walk about on land. No distance to be had between you two to simply observe him, wasting away hours with wide eyes as you try and soak in every detail to the point your gills would itch in irritation. Screaming at you to return back to where you belong.

The chance to watch from afar as you preferred ripped out from under you.

Your tail was burning as the salt water licked at your wounds, but it wasn't enough to keep you from trying to dive back in. The silver hook only dug into your skin further as your tail smacked against the rocks in your haste to escape. The faint plea of “wait, I can help” cut off the moment the waves welcomed you back like a smile belonging to someone once again getting the chance to see their lover.

The water is cold even in the spring.

That ache proved to be persistent. The hook ripped out of you in a haste to get rid of it even after fighting with your own head about whether or not it was a good idea. Clammy, shaking hands letting go of it the moment you were free as that color once again continued to muddy the space around you as you slinked into the corals below. Schools of fish that were gathered around your shelter quickly dispersed every which way as your shadow passed over them.

It hurt.

It stung.

Seafoam clung to the corners of your eyes as you wished you had stayed that moment longer before running away. Risked listening to possible false claims of wanting to help. At least then you wouldn't flinch and bite back a cry every time you shifted in place. Your own body had decided it didn't deserve the rest it craved as a night without sleep awaited you.

Hours passed in silence as you watched the glow of your tail flick along the cave, casting shapes that proved to be your only company.

You only risked peeking out past the walls of your shelter as the others in the reef awoke. A sweet-flower medaka moving past you without a care in the world, swimming close to the surface for its morning meal. Mouth already agape as a bug danced on the surface.

It was a sight you turned away from as you swam. You hadn't even decided as to where yet, but your tail moved as your mind debated over possibly cutting some leaves of seaweed to wrap around the injury. Other such methods you were familiar with weren't as viable here, the environment far too different from the one you knew better than the back of your hand. So you returned to what you knew: a sandy shore.

Something you're still questioning yourself over as you bite back as you break past the surface. Eyes just barely rise from the water to keep yourself from being seen.

Every now and then, a wave would wash over you as you gawked. Ogling the metal container left right where you had been sitting before.

That wasn't there last time. You knew it wasn't. You weren't that distracted to fail to notice something so obvious, something you would usually collect as a treasure from the curious human beings, even if the algae haired man had caught your attention so abruptly.

So, you picked the tin up in your hands. A small square box full of what seemed to be human food, if the smell was anything to go by. The same scents and spices you caught from the harbor that got caught on the wind. A welcome reprieve from salt, salt, and more salt filling your nose.

The paper that was previously laying underneath the tin almost got caught up in the same wind before you snatched it. Symbols covering the sheet you couldn't quite make out no matter how much you squinted at the messy handwriting. Not that it would help, anyway, not when you lacked the ability to actually make out the words on paper. So you let it go with a huff. Let it drift like those ‘proof of exchange’ that you often found to have fallen atop the surface of the water that would slowly consume it. Break it apart until there was nothing left.

A click and another as your nails tapped a slow pattern against the tin as you pulled away the ribbon on top, along with the foil covering it. Something white and fluffy you've never seen before packing it full. The only familiar sight being seaweed wrapped around these…triangles?

Foreign, but the thought it was edible quickly filled your mind.

The fact someone simply left it here without a single sign of anyone around only a faint deterrent from escaping back home with it. Tin and all. One you later found proved to be the perfect basket for all your tiny knick knacks of shiny golden coins, a tear dropped shaped wooden object with a metallic tip at the end, and an array of seashells.

Some of which you picked out, choosing some of your favorites you later placed right where the imprint of the tin still lay in the sand.

A thank you for the soggy treat. After all, it was better than having to try and snatch fruit off of the low hanging branches that touched the water.

A trend that continued on for three more days.

A new little container for storage, a new bow (one that no matter how many times you tried to replicate, failed to make just as pristine and perfect), and something stashed inside that proved to be something you could stuff down your throat.

An arrangement that proved to be far more convenient than having to try and snatch fruit off of the low hanging branches that lingered over the water. Less chance of being seen that way as constantly finding yourself needing to duck away whenever that large vessel with the paper lanterns setting it aglow passed overhead.

It always reminded you of home as it shone bright in the middle of the dark hour, making you want to sink your nails into the vessel's décor you couldn't help but liken to flowing fins. To cling onto it to give you purchase even if it only leads to catching the whispers shared above, but alas, even you could recognize that wouldn't be a bright idea.

So, you went to the shore again.

The same habit you've grown accustomed to in these few short days. A new schedule has emerged, breaking the one you had before of swimming just that bit further past the reef into the uncharted. Everyday daring to go somewhere new only to turn back again as the sun fell from the heaven to kiss the waters.

A tin was there, just as expected. Set neatly in place as you have come to expect.

You were already busy placing an odd drum like contraption with beads attached by two strings down. The ‘shadows’ payment for the day. Something you found right below the docks in your search for new treasures.

A small patter sounded as you placed it down in the sand, not minding as it hit against the grains as your eyes caught the sight of footprints. Usually, the tide would have washed those away by the time you came here, but today? There were clear signs of shoes having treaded through the area.

“She seems a little dumb. She's failed to notice us yet.” A shrill feminine voice called out, one that had you scanning the area around you to find the source only to land on the same man with those odd glasses before his eyes.

The one who claimed to want to help.

The footprints that lay before you leading all the water up to him as he stood only a few feet away from you, his shoes implanted right where the grass started, and the terrain below changed into dirt.

He was too close for comfort.

Too close for you not to have notice. Yet here you are again. Twice in the span of such a short time, you had been shocked by this man, taken aback by his presence.

Were your senses truly getting so dull you could easily be snuck up on?

You wanted to snap at the both of them. Warn them to back off. Both him and the odd creature wrapped around his neck, but before you could even curl your lips back into a scowl, he held his hands up in surrender.

A gesture that was barely enough to placate you.

“Is your tail feeling any better?” He asked, hands still high in the air despite the small twitch of his long fingers. “I noticed you were injured last time we met.”

Your tail splashed in the water at his words, droplets kicking up and falling back down like your own personal rain shower as they fell along your back.

“I suppose that means I should take that as a no.” It was obvious he was scrutinizing you, just as you were him taking in every detail of the other in the midst of the tense air. “Miss, I'm a healer. If you would care to let me, I can help you.”

You opened your mouth to reply, to tell him you're fine, only to be cut short as a croak left you. Voice broken to the point even you couldn't tell what was being said despite it being your own words. Too long has passed since you talked to anyone but yourself after venturing away from your own kind to need to use it to flex the muscle for it to be truly usable. After all, you could only entertain yourself for so long before you learned it was just easier to let your thoughts bounce around in your mind rather than on your tongue.

Yet, it seems he understood what you wanted to say as he nodded.

“I know you have no idea who I am, but we can start with something simple. I'm Baizhu,” One of his hands moved down ever so slowly, like he was making sure not to trigger your instinct to run (err, swim) away again as he brought it down to the white creature resting on his shoulders, “and this is Changsheng.”

Two names you could swear rang some sort of bell in your head, but still, you stayed as you were. Even as your own name was muttered under your breath, not truly wanting either of them to hear it despite bothering to share.

Unfortunately, it seemed the scaled one did as she repeated it back to you.

“That's a lovely name.” Baizhu said. His eyes constantly on you even as a pout crossed your features.

The day wasn't supposed to go like this. No, you were supposed to get something to stuff between your cheeks until they were aching from the stretch as you treated yourself like a chipmunk, leave something in exchange, duck around the corals, and maybe even harass a few fish between your fits of boredom as they swim away from you, kicking up a storm of bubbles.

“I have something for you,” he called out, trying to get your attention back on him without risking shuffling closer. “A balm of sorts. It took a while to find the proper ingredients, seeing as I needed something that would last well underwater and would work on your…”

His eyes moved to your tail for a moment before moving back to your face. “More unique qualities.”

“Medicine,” the ‘Changsheng’ said. “This one spent hours combing over books to find the right solution of ingredients.”

“Well, it's important to attend to everything I could in assurance that this would help her. I have never had such a patient before, so it only stands to reason I should be cautious.”

“Medicine?” You repeated after her, partially ignoring Baizhu's rambling. Trying to say it the same way she did proved to be awkward on your tongue, unable to copy the natural hiss to her voice.

The assurance of “it is” was quickly accompanied by the offer of a small item in his hand. A small cylinder of sorts that was covered in a label. You've encountered those before. Cursed as they peeled and tore in all the wrong ways as you tried to pick them off. Still, you didn't tell it. Not quite yet.

“You were the one leaving the food, weren't you?”

The creature tilted its head at you, watching you for a moment before asking “did you seriously eat something thinking it was coming from a random stranger?”

“Now, now, Changsheng.” Baizhu chided, hand moving up to brush along her scales. “She's simply...a little unaware of the world.”

Well, that certainly felt like an insult.

Baizhu had an easygoing smile as he carefully unwrapped her from around him, much akin to the scarfs you'd see in the colder months. When the water would freeze your skin and you'd be covered in white flakes that fell from the sky whenever you dared to leave your natural environment.

Is that what she was, a scarf?

He muttered: “Give us a moment, why don't you” as he held her up to the branches of a nearby tree. Her little scarf body wrapped around the bough and hiding between the yellow leaves that covered her so well you could almost convince yourself she wasn't there at all.

That is, if she didn't make a remark that was basically along the lines of “make sure the fish doesn't bite you.”

Baizhu apparently had no issue waving her words off as he took a step towards you. The sound of dirt crunching wasn't what graced your ears this time. No, rather, he was trying to cross the divide. To step those few feet closer to you. Sand shuffling as it's kicked up, that's the sound that greeted you.

“I'd rather you stay over there.” The way the words came out as more than a question than a statement had you both raising a brow. One aimed at you, and, well, the other aimed at you by you.

“I promise I merely want to confirm to myself you're alright, miss. If you would be kind enough to give me five minutes.” As Baizhu spoke, he urged your eyes to fall on the item in his hand. “It's nothing dangerous, I can assure you. Simply some sweet flowers, qingxing, mushrooms, and cryo slime condensate to make it a paste.”

“I don't know what any of those things besides the slimes are.” The little creatures that bounced along the edges of the water. At first, they appeared so cute, but you had been a victim once or twice after getting too close and having them direct their hostility towards you. Though, they were nothing compared to the sharp eyed creatures that ripped through the water in search of their latest hunt.

The sand crunched again as he took another step and in turn you slinked back.

“I assure you, I have no intention to harm you. I would be breaking, to me, a very important oath if I did anything other than assist you right now.”

His hand was outstretched towards you, offering the item so freely the feeling this was the bait to his lure couldn't help but gnaw at your mind. Even the pretty items wrapped around his wrists weren't enough to distract you despite the fact that you would long to have them in your collection any other day.

“You promise?”

“If I lied, Changsheng would surely say something. Or can you not tell she's an honest individual?”

Well, Baizhu certainly had a point there, even if his tone was a bit too litted for your liking.

But he did promise with a simple nod of his head.

Without a word, you snatched the cylinder from him hands and swam away. Tail flicking behind you as you dove. The sound of coughing filling the air doing nothing to deter you from fleeing.

Still, like always, you left a thank you behind. Even if it was done in the middle of the night to assure no one could sneak up on you this time. Every little golden coin those humans seemed to value so highly you've found, no thanks to the loose grips of lazy hands and purses in poor condition, stacked up on top of each other in the sand.

That night had to be the first one you hadn't woken up in the middle of due to pain.

Maybe that's why you returned, half hoping to see Baizhu and half hoping you'd never catch a glimpse of him again. An unlikely event, considering you were staring at him now from behind the rock you were using to hide yourself. Tail, now with your injured fin covered in the salve, brushing along the smooth surface, the waves have dulled down to a rounded edge.

He was resting in the shallows, feet dipped into the water as Baizhu's purple pants were rolled up past his shins.

How did you only just notice how colorful the man's clothing was?

Strangely enough, it reminded you of the hues in the depths you hailed from. The bright blue flowers that would glow just like your tail as evernight flooded the sky, patterns in his clothing that had you longing to see the carved stone of those old buildings falling to ruins, and the water that turned hostile against those that lived there.

Sparks of electricity that bit at your muscles in nothing short of pure irritation ruining the home you once had.

So some went west, some went east, and you went north.

“You're back.”

His eyes flicked up to you, moving from where his feet were digging into the sand that swallowed his limbs with every step. “As are you.”

In the silence, the lack of a buzz of anything between the two of you, you hastily asked where the scarf was. She was missing today, after all, not to mention a small part of you found comfort in the fact there was another scaled creature to talk to. To break the ice. Even if she was…a little sharp tongued.

“Changsheng,” he asked, mirth in his voice. “She's on the tree over there. The one I placed her on before. She always complains about the water anytime she gets wet, so I thought it best to leave her be.”

The silence returned. Your eyes stuck on your webbed fingers. Suddenly, something you had all your life proved to be quite the marvel as you stared at the veins through the translucent skin.

“A snake.” He dared to break the tension. Speaking over the waves. “She's known as a snake, if you were wondering.”

“I see.” You said after a moment of hesitance, unsure of what you were supposed to say to something so simple.

You couldn't help but chew on your lip for a moment, hoping you could swallow something down and regurgitate words that hopefully turned out to be a sentence. A half-baked question on your tongue as Baizhu spoke. Both of you cutting the other off.

“I'm sorry.” Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Baizhu gestured towards you. “Please, go first. I want to hear what you have to say.”

“What are you doing here?”

"One can only work so long when your own employees are insisting you take a break. Not to mention Changsheng trying to slip her tail under my glasses to slide them off certainly helped to encourage me out the door.”

“Glasses?”

Those must be the things on his face then. The thin golden wire pinched between your fingers as you pulled them off of him. A sigh immediately fell from Baizhu's lips as he looked down at you, holding them up to your own eyes, mimicking the way he used them even as they made your vision blurry. Almost like seafoam was creasing into the corners of your eyes again as you squint to see anything as more than just random blobs of color.

“Can you… return those? Baizhu asked, a waver to his voice like he was afraid the wrong tone would frighten you off again. "And not do that again?”

He didn't snatch them from you, not the same way you did him as Baizhu pinched the frames. His fingers brushed against your cheek as he took your newfound, and rather confounding, treasure back. “I need those to see, miss.”

“Oh…I…don't see how they do, but okay.”

“You seem to have a habit of collecting whatever catches your eye. From everything to tassels to rattle drums. Qiqi, one of my- well, a child I care for, seemed to enjoy playing with it for a time.”

“I found most of my keepsakes under the harbor.” You admitted.

You've spent what had to have been days by now lingering around the boardwalk and concrete platforms, eyes searching about the area and you ruffled through bits of trash, plant life, and piles of seaweed that crashed against any rock they could catch on. Waves rocking them back and forth and to be taken away to go float somewhere else before your search was even up.

“Then you are the reason the children have been whispering that old tale again. It has been some time since I heard it.” After Baizhu finished cleaning his glasses off of the water droplets, he slipped them back on. “It was enough to bring back some old memories.”

“Whispers?” You asked, head cocking to the side.

“You're not as subtle as you might think you are, miss. I do suggest being a bit more careful about who catches sight of your tail during your treasure hunts.”

“So I do have to be careful of humans then?” You asked despite the fact that talking still hurt.

Still made your throat wish to swipe back at you with clawed hands to simply allow it some rest, but this question was important. You lacked experience with their kind, with this land. You might as well be going in blind at this rate despite having eyes adapted to the dark.

“You wouldn't be the oddest sight in Liyue, not when we have the illustrious Adepti serving the land, but it never hurts to be cautious." Baizhu warned. "One can never be too careful, in both terms of the people around them and our very own selves. That's why it is important to look after our bodies.”

Baizhu certainly sounded like a healer now, chattering about this topic with ease as he mentioned your tail: an example of his point.

“Which is why we ought to take care of it. If you would let me?”

Your lips twisted down. “I somehow feel like I swam right into that one.”

Baizhu's eyes creased as he smiled, little wrinkles forming as he chuckled. “You did, but if you would be so kind as to let me?”

If you can hand anything to this man, it was the simple fact of how persistent he is. Nagging at you over the same thing until you found yourself giving in. Tail still in the water, flicking every now and again in protest as his hand slid over the scales all the way down to the injured fin.

You were tempted to pull back, to find a conch shell to scream into so it may too know what it's like to hear the depths of the ocean, but you merely sat there taking in a shaky breath as he whispered in what had to be the sweetest voice you've ever heard that he'll treat whatever ails you. All you have to do is ask.

The start of an untimely friendship even if Baizhu was in a coughing fit by the time he was once again out of the waters. Hand covering his mouth. The snake, as you learned she was called, wrapped around his neck as he choked out a simple wish: for you to be careful on your way home.

The noise was one you recognized, having heard it from the masked creatures that roamed on the purple lands, grass crunching under their feet right before falling to their knees. Some would even tumble off cliffs, gracing your home with their presence as they sank lower and lower until you couldn't see even the outline of their bodies anymore.

No one ever bothered to help, so you never learned how.

Making it a sound you never cared for.

He seemed to cover his mouth a lot you had come to notice, carrying a handkerchief around with him and tucking it away as fast as possible even when it was just you, him, and Changsheng. Like there was something to hide even as he told you about how that day went as the people on the docks grew in numbers and started to complain about their work days. Whining about being sweaty, no thanks to the ever increasing beat of the sun as the weeks passed. The second you hear that first “it's been such a long day” you knew it meant you could see your newfound friend again.

Your only friend, really.

Him and the little loudmouth hanging off his shoulders.

She had found herself a hobby of resting on the highest rock she could find as the tide slowly creeped in. Soaking in the stones' warmth until she called out: it was time to go. At least, that's how it usually went. If not, you would be listening to Baizhu excitedly rambling to you about the newest concoction he's working on or listening to pages flip as he sat on the sandy shores and read.

The sun was still peeking out just enough he could catch the words as you looked over his shoulder. Illustrations of plants you had never seen before painting the pages you were too scared to touch in case your water covered hands would smudge the ink.

Baizhu would point at each one, read aloud for you as he explained their purpose and where he would go to find them. Your fins (now healed) brushing along his leg as he spoke. Some he would explain came from his own personal greenhouse, having no other option but to grow them himself if he wanted fresh specimens, others came from Liyue's mountains and oceans of grass, and some he simply had imported over from other nations.

Flaming flowers: helpful for soothing pulled muscles.

Zaytun peaches: a relaxing ingredient that, if the right percentage is used, can be implemented in sleeping pills.

Sweet flowers: they can help make a patient stop complaining too much about how bitter the medicine he makes is.

That had you giggling as Baizhu's brows pinched together, already exasperated just from mentioning the complaints he's gotten.

And sakura blooms: the extract of which is used in vitamin supplements.

Your eyes were glued to the page at the sight. Branches covered in little pink petals that had you leaning over the book just to see them the slightest bit closer.

“I know those.” You muttered, mouth moving faster than your mind.

“Do you now?” Baizhu looked up at you, curiosity swimming in his eyes.

It didn't come to a surprise that piqued his interest, not after the slew of questions you received the day he checked how your tail had been healing. It seemed like every little detail he could think of flew past his lips, wanting to whatever you would be willing to share with him of the place you grew up, if there were others like you, if all mermaids had tails that resembled a dawncatcher medaka or if it was just you.

Even something as mundane as what your diet was.

It had gotten to the point you were debating thwacking him with said tail as his fingers slid over the injury, so gentle with you, you barely even felt the sting of pain as he applied another salve.

Later on, Baizhu confessed that talking so much, asking questions, helps to keep a patient distracted while tending to them; but he was just mainly prying to sate his own inquisitive nature.

But for now, he was nodding as his hand flipped to another page, slipping through this book he called a journal like he knew exactly what every page contained. “I recently received a brand new stock of sakura blooms.”

“I remember looking off into the distance and seeing that tree way on top of the main island, the one with the weird shape to it, before finally saying goodbye to the place that raised me.”

As you spoke you raised your hand up in the air, like you were reaching out for the petals, hoping they would slip from the branches that hugged them tight so you could be blessed with the chance to know what they feel like, what they smell like. Would they be as bittersweet as the mere thought of them was? Would they feel the same as the flowers in Enkanomiya?

You could feel Baizhu's eyes on you, a soft gaze, but his pupils were slitted just like the vishaps. It felt contradictory, somehow, but he pulled it off with ease. “Parting from your home is never easy.”

“Yeah..It..” You couldn't help but shake your head, trying to knock your thoughts free and away just like the droplets of water that had been clinging onto your hair had. “So, sakura blooms?”

“Yes, well..” Baizhu looked down at his journal, staring down at a letter that was now distorted from the droplet. “Many use the petals for teas. From what I hear, it's a popular flavor in Inazuma.”

“Is it any good?”

“Most of the sakura treats are laced with sugar, far from being healthy for dental hygiene. Especially for the children who still pretend to brush their teeth before bed.”

“Baizhu,” Changsheng called out, her tongue flicking in the air, “that's not what she asked.”

“Right. Right. Excuse me,” your name came out of his mouth like a song, better than any of the ones you've picked up being hummed as sailors walked back and forth aboard the ships (as Baizhu had taught you they were called) with boxes full of merchandise. “I'm sure I can make some tea cakes for you. There are surely some substitutions I can use. Applesauce, for example…”

“It'll be like our old deal.”

You had half the mind to bring him some shells in exchange, maybe even bits of coral. It wouldn't matter even if Changsheng called your treasures worthless junk again if he held them close and smiled at you in thanks.

Your scales shivered under his touch as Baizhu's leg brushed against you, fin twitching as he said: “Not quite. I don't have to coax you out of hiding this time.”

“Hey now.” You huffed.

He turned away from your pout, finger sliding back over the journal before him as he pointed at one of the jumbles of scribbles. It was easier that way to hide his smile despite the fact it still showed in his voice. “For now, let's enjoy the day.”

“You mean the blistering heat of the summer.” That did no good for your scales that insisted on drying out under the ever shining sun.

“Now, now, It's important for everyone to simply take a step back from the churn of the every day to appreciate the scenery around them, heat and all. Especially in good company.”

“You're right.” You said, shoulders raising in a shrug. “Changsheng is good company.”

Baizhu didn't always show up. Sometimes, he failed to give you an explanation at all after disappearing on you for days. Leaving you to meander to force time to pass. Hours were spent around the reef trying to bother the fish that had grown so used to your presence that they didn't even stir until you started to chase them around.

You had learned this game from watching a group of boys. Children who caused a ruckus as their feet padded across the streets, running around stalls, adults, and crates that had yet to be unloaded as they played tag. Hands outreached to grab onto each other.

It was better than nagging, or quoting Baizhu's lines about “health comes first” as he looks at you with sunken eyes.

Was it wrong to want to know what was plaguing him so?

At first, he had used this sort of powder to hide the bags under his eyes, but one swipe of your webbed hand, still covered in droplets of water, wiped it away with ease.

Tinges of blue meeting you as he sighed.

Changsheng was the one who finally spoke up as Baizhu took your hand in his own, seeming to be figuring out how to hold it properly. Eyebrows pinched together as he held what he could close.

“It has been a long week. For both of us.” Just as always, Changsheng drew out every ‘S’, letting it punctuate her sentence.

“Yeah? That so?” You asked.

You squeezed his hand back, not minding if it felt uncomfortable as his fingers slipped along the webbing. For him, you could stand the feeling that had shivers running down your spine.

“Indeed, a long week.” Baizhu said, seeming to have found a way he preferred to keep your hand in his.

That day, you two sat in silence. Listened to the waves lapping along the shore, Changsheng's snoring as she drifted off, and the whispers of the wind brushing through his hair.

You had stayed there, just like that, until the gills on your neck were itching. Begging for relief as you splashed into the water. He had told you to be careful of fishing lines on your way back as you resurfaced. A clear dismissal that had you nodding in agreement.

It wasn't your intention to leave, but for some reason he took it that way.

For some reason, you didn't even clear the air. Fix that little miscommunication as you swam away.

Neither of you talked about that day even as the waters grew cold. Leaves falling from branches, flying across your vision with every breeze in a flurry of yellows and oranges, strangely reminiscent of a diveda ray leaping into the air.

The humans had begun to wear scarfs again, choosing to hide away indoors or under layers of clothing, waddling around as they got their daily business done.

A change of season.

And a sweater held out to you.

Baizhu had been insisting you wear one, even if it's only while you're up on the surface as he laid it on your bare shoulders. The soft texture lacked the scent that seemed to linger on his person, but you held it close to you anyway; hugging it around your body just as Changsheng was your neck.

She often complained how you always smelt of sea salt, but she had been the one who moved from Baizhu to you. Something he seemed rather betrayed by in the moment, just not enough so to move away from where you sat. Hip to hip.

“How has work been at the pharmacy?”

“Long.” Changsheng remarked, her nose buried into your neck.

“Well, we were expecting this, at the very least. I even asked Gui to stock up on a few extra herbs for me, but-” Baizhu sighed. A long, drawn-out breath as his head tilted back with a pop. “It's flu season again, meaning lines of patients right outside the door all coughing right onto each other. I had to ask Qiqi to hand out face masks for everyone.”

“Is this where you rant about people not being cautious about spreading their sicknesses again?”

A hiss, and you looked down at Changsheng, who was shaking her little head. “I don't need to hear his lecture again, not when I am sure I can recite it word for word.”

“Come now, surely I can't be that bad.”

At the same time you and Changsheng both said to him “you are.”

Baizhu's lips quirked down, meeting you both with a frown, but before he could say anything, you were already tossing out words you were used to hearing from him the most. Discomfort, symptoms, no need to worry about my cough, exhaustion, and cover your mouth when you sneeze. The only reason you stopped short as you were about to say more was Baizhu's finger brushing the hair sticking to your lips away.

The growing warmth in your cheeks was getting harder to ignore as he leaned closer.

“You forgot prescriptions, pills-”

“And other such hubbub we are well used to.” Changsheng said, unabashedly cutting him off.

It gave you just enough time to pull back, to pretend you were just slipping your arms through the holes of the sweater as the two went back to their playful bickering. Always like mother and son. If not that, maybe Changsheng could take the role of that one aunt you had who purposefully nudged pufferfish in hopes of getting high.

“Then what do you suggest we talk about since this topic is so dreadful?” Baizhu spoke your name, dragging you into the conversation as he claimed you complained the moment he brought up the weather last time.

“I'm allowed to be blasé when talking about the weather of all things.”

What were you supposed to do, get excited every time it rained? That had only been a marvel the first few times as you stared up at the sky, mind trying to comprehend what was happening. The stone ceiling only ever splashed you with droplets, perspiration coating the stalactites until enough water coated the end to fall down. It was nothing like watching the clouds come overhead, gray, almost angry looking, as you had sat there all day atop a rock.

Back then, you couldn't help but wonder if it had meant Morax was crying, just like how the storms of thunder and lightning surrounding Inazuma meant the Shogun was blocking everything out.

“It's boring.” You whined.

“I come and visit you whenever I have the time to spare, not a complaint to be heard after I walk down here knowing you can't visit me, and you still say I'm boring?” Baizhu teased. His eyes sparkled behind his glasses in a way that had you rolling yours.

“Yes.”

“You've gotten cheeky.”

“You've rubbed off on me.”

“Or a certain fish was waiting to show her real personality, so we would keep feeding her.” Changsheng interjected.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” You said as she shifted on your shoulders, her pearl like scales brushing along your neck, covering your gills until you pulled her away from them.

In your struggle against the snake (that you still found yourself referring to as a scarf on the rare occasion), Baizhu fixed the sweater as it fell off your shoulder. Tugging it up for you.

“It's quite alright if that's why you're sticking around. At least this way, I know you are getting a well-balanced meal every day.”

“That's not-”

Not true. Not in the slightest.

You found yourself taking his hand, holding it up as you stare at the lines embedded in his palm, at the lack of webbing, at the skin that was smooth to the touch, lacking a single black tipped scale. These days, you found yourself forgetting about that boundary between you two, of mermaid and human, as he teased you, but then came moments like these. Baizhu atop a rock, sitting comfortably in the sun without needing to splash himself with water. It proved to remind you of how different you two really are as you swallow down the lump in your throat.

Like you were trying to force an entire sunsettia into your mouth with only one bite. Grating against your throat.

“Sure, I only stick around because of the food. Makes it easy, you know?" You didn't mean to sound that bitter, but somehow it felt natural to wear poison on your tongue. At least right now, anyway.

Maybe that's why Baizhu always refuses to share why the handkerchief he carries around is stained a muddied red because you and he are two different creatures entirely. A gap you could never hope to fill, seeming to grow bigger, stretching into a chasm, as you glanced up at him.

“It's getting late,” you said, “and I should head back before it gets too dark. I don't need to catch any attention from the local fisherman, you know?”

“Yes, I have heard there is a local legend going around of a glowing fish the fisherman's association says will grant you a wish if you catch it. I thought we told you to be more careful about being spotted.”

You muttered how you'll be sure to keep an eye out from now on, thanking Changsheng for her concern, as you slid the sweater off. Casting it aside in a heap as it landed in the sand. Grains getting caught in the knitted wool before you even managed to splash into the water to return to the reef.

Your black tail stands out like an ink blotch on pure white paper as you duck back into the bright pink and purple plant life.

A fish out of water in the very element that you breathed.

If it were any other day, you might have laughed at the irony, but the idea tasted bitter as the ever encompassing salt you waded through as your fingers dug through piles of trash again. Anything to keep you busy, even if it meant telling yourself to focus on finding treasure, to ignore the way you weren't as ecstatic as you were used to when finding something new.

Lots of something news greeted you as weeks passed. Bright red pouches, kites that had fallen into the water as the breeze robbed them of their right to fly, random shipment boxes that fell off the ships passing you overhead in their haste to take off, and even a lantern that wasn't tied off properly to the stake it had once called home.

There were many lanterns these days, actually. Glowing in the middle of the night, flickering in a way that had you longing to wrap your arms around the bioluminescent fish that you hadn't had the chance to see in months. Even if they flapped about in your arms, desperate for escape, you would refuse to let them go.

As the lanterns shined bright, your hand clasped around the paper dissolving under your touch, wishing, praying that your mind could delude itself long enough you could see the outlines of a formalo ray in the kite.

By the time it fell apart seafoam was clouding your vision.

Blurred outlines of leaves, a bamboo fence only a few feet away from the water you sat in, lily pads, and seaweed like hair all encircling you the same way your arms did the scraps of what once was.

The only thing that shook you out of your reverie was a call of your name. Familiar, but not familiar in the way you craved. It wasn't the voice of your own kind, distorted by water as you laughed with those around you.

“What are you doing here?”

You looked up at Baizhu as his shoes came to a stop before you, shiny gold accents you had burned the image of into your eyes after all the times he slipped them off; dipped his feet into the water, waves making the anklet he wears rise and fall every time they came in as he stood beside you.

“I was about to ask you the same thing, but then I came across this.” His fingers brushed along the sticks that had once held the kite together as he spoke, grazing over the lacquered wood. “And you.”

Slowly, surely, your grip loosened. Your precious treasure falls to the ground only to reveal your hands covered in splinters. You hadn't even noticed the sticks had snapped under your grip when wails had rocked you until now, but Baizhu seemed to notice right away as he looked between you and the pinpricks of blood.

“Is…is this when you lecture me about how I need to disinfect my hands on something?”

“In a moment, dear. For now, won't you come here for me?”

Baizhu's arms were already wide open, waiting for you to fall into them. To let him hold you. An offer you didn't even think to refuse as you tackled him down. Small coughs shook his shoulders as you both fell, but that didn't deter him from whispering in your ear how everything will be okay. How you just need to let it all out.

Nails traced along your back, causing shivers as he found every divet, every scar, every mole the expanse of skin had to offer as you two stayed like that.

The seafoam had long since been wiped from your eyes, but still, Baizhu held you. Hugged you just as tightly as you did him with your tail that found itself wrapped around his leg; refusing to let go.

“Do you want to tell me about what's going on? I have an idea, but…” The way he talked to you had warmth flooding over your skin, easing the goosebumps that had started to appear after his touch.

“No- I-” You stammered.

It reminded you of the tower, the warmth of its light that would flicker on and off, shining so fiercely it pierced through the vale of fog, casting its glow over the pool you found yourself in more often than not. You would peek your head out, water rippling around you, just to watch the purple wisps dance in the air. You never did learn what they were dancing to, but you liked to pretend it was a song only they knew.

“Shh, it's alright. I'm here, even if you can't bring yourself to talk.” He whispered in your ear., voice as soft of the grass under you.

Mumbles of apologies fell from your lips like a waterfall, coursing through you and coming out in waves even as Baizhu assured you it's better to let it out now, that you can always tell him what has made you so distressed later. That he had an idea what's wrong anyway, so there's no need to feel rushed.

You had only pulled away from his embrace to ask what he was doing here, not used to seeing Baizhu anywhere but the little beachside front you always met. Where the sounds of the harbor could be heard, but the mountain blocked the sight of sails as docked ships rocked back and forth.

“I was at Qingce Village helping decorate. Many of the people living there are far too old to be climbing ladders just to hang something up. I fear. However, they will still try despite the doctor's orders.”

“Always nagging.” You teased. Or, at the very least, tried your best to when your voice broke on each word. “I bet the next thing you're going to say is they shouldn't be running around outside so much with weary bones.”

“A perfectly understandable thing to say.”

Your thumb rubbed over the growing crease between Baizhu's eyebrows as they furrowed together. A sight for sore eyes.

“Where have you been?" You inquired. "I haven't seen you at our normal spot for weeks.”

Admittedly, you had only waited for him for a few short minutes before leaving. Your temper suddenly grew thin since the last time you talked to him, leaving an ache in your chest as dark as evernight every time you left the sandy shores behind. Lingering, as you had reasoned with yourself, wouldn't change the outcome.

If Baizhu didn't want to be there he simply wouldn't be.

Apparently, that had been a foolish thought as Baizhu admitted that he had visited when he could. “Rarely, but I tried. I have just been…otherwise occupied.”

His eyes fell to look at the ground, to gaze at the blade of grass you two rested upon, telling you all you needed to know. “Guess you don't know what to say when you don't have Changsheng to cover for you, huh? Where is she, anyway?”

With a scoff you asked: “Now, when did I need someone to cover for me?”

Your jaw almost dropped at the sheer audacity as he tried to pretend everything was alright. Normal even. It caused a warning tone to bubble in your voice as you called his name, though you had to doubt its effectiveness when he's still holding you close and your own voice still is broken from your earlier crying.

You two stared at each other for a moment, your scales grating against his skin, before Baizhu relented.

“Back at the village with Qiqi and her friend, a little girl named Yaoyao. They were learning how to tie good luck knots for the coming New Years. I was on my way to fetch some more string, so I wasn't exactly expecting it to take long.”

“Good. Now was that so hard?”

“Terribly so.” A small smile was on his face, voice too shameless for a man that was supposed to be feeling a little guilty right now, but you let it go as Baizhu asked to see your hands.

As he raised your open palms up, trying to get a better view of them, you couldn't help but think about how if Changsheng was here now she'd be calling you stupid; asking how a creature that's fortunate enough to have limbs, hands, and fingers, would be dumb enough to injure them. And you'd be arguing back with her until Baizhu held you a little tighter and told you to stay still a minute longer.

And of course, you'd oblige.

“So what is a good luck knot?”

“A traditional craft for those of us who hail from Liyue. It is said they can be used to ward off spirits who wish us harm.” As Baizhu spoke, he carefully pulled the splinters from your skin. “I would make them with my master and fellow student, Jiangli, so we could hang them on the eve of Lantern Rite.”

"Forgive me. You most likely don't know what that is either.” He said as Baizhu took in your confused expression.

“Not one bit.” You confirmed with a nod.

“Then…” As the last splinter was pulled out, Baizhu held his hand above your, a faint green light swirling around you both. For a moment, you swore you saw eyes, wise, knowing, a creature that meant no harm swimming around you both before the pinpricks disappeared. “When the festival is…”

The green light cast on him might have been eerie to some, lighting his skin with a sickly tinge, making it all the more obvious just how pale and sunken some of his features were, but to you it was the same glow the depths of the water had always held.

In the dark, with nothing to light your way but random plant life as the tower once again turned off.

“You see, every year during Lantern Rite, there is a custom to set off fireworks every year. There is always a show held, a float built in honor of an illustrious Adepti. This year, if I can properly recall, is-”

It reminded you of home.

“You're rambling again.” You pointed out.

“Right. Right. Excuse me.”

Awkwardly, Baizhu cleared his throat, refusing to make eye contact with you as he watched the spirit vein disappear back into that glowing green gem he always wore on his waist; jade snake charm hanging off of it.

“Dear-”

“And when did you start calling me dear?”

He huffed your name out, punctuating the air with each syllable, but all you could focus on was how his ears were tinted a barely there shade of pink. “If you would be so polite as to stop cutting me off, I would like to speak.”

Your lips pinched together into a thin line as you made that motion you've seen him doing before. Running a hand over your own mouth, twisting the wrist ever so subtly, and tossing an invisible item away like it never meant anything to you in the first place. You never learned exactly what it meant, but you could get the picture after he did it when Changsheng said something he shushed her over.

Baizhu whispered his thanks, telling you he just needed to find the right words between the lull of the wind brushing through the grass.

It was as a little girl's voice, monotone, almost lifeless, filled the air, calling for Baizhu that he finally said: “Would you care to watch the fireworks with me?”

“I couldn't think of anything better.” You said with a smile, even as you could still feel seafoam stinging at your cheeks.

And as a little head of purple hair appeared in the distance, you sunk beneath the waves. A smile on your face as the water poured into your gills, bubbling around you.

Ripples on the surface creating tiny waves, just as they did as you swayed your tail back and forth. Your fins glowed, bright as the moon above, casting an orange glow that rivaled the lantern resting on the boat's seat. Ridges, wood grains, the tiniest of knicks and crannies all to be seen to the naked eye as you hung off the gunwale.

Shining in the water like it was the sky above and you were a lone star dotting its existence as you listened to Baizhu chuckling at another one of Changsheng's complaints about the cold as she wrapped herself even tighter around his neck, the little sweater he knitted her apparently not doing any favors to keep her snug.

“You knew we were going to be out on the water, but you still weren't prepared?” Baizhu asked, fingers brushing over her to pet Changsheng's little head.

“Not all of us scaled creatures are made to handle the cold, unlike someone.” She said with a pointed look your way.

Your gaze lingered on the harbor a minute more before looking back at her. Worry still ebbed at you, at the fact you could see the red constructs covering the boardwalk. The moment they were put up, you had awed over them, curious as ever as you watched the hanging umbrellas the same way one would flowers. Amazed at the array of colors. But Baizhu assured you that if anyone questioned what the light on the water was, they would just think it's a fisherman with a couple lanterns, waiting to release them.

“Hey," you whined, "don't bring me into this.”

“Don't want to be a part of our conversation now, dear?” Baizhu asked.

“Am I supposed to be?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you two going to do this all night?” Changsheng interjected. “Because if so, I should have stayed on land with Qiqi and Yaoyao.”

“Hush you.” He chastised before turning to you. “As for you, what do you think of Lantern Rite so far?”

You couldn't help but sink a bit lower in the water as Baizhu's gaze fell on you, tilting the boat down with you as you moved. You hadn't had his undivided attention since the moment you two were alone outside of Qingce Village. Even days later, when you close your eyes below the water, coral surrounding you, you could feel his fingers tracing along your back.

Ghosts of a touch.

“It's curious. Everyone on land I saw was decorated in these colorful clothes, had bundles of red envelopes in hand, and we're playing some game I couldn't grasp the rules of.”

“Oh? Last year, they had these little paper dolls. Qiqi had spent a good while outside the stall needing the instructions repeated to her before she could finally play.”

“That zombie,” Changsheng groaned, “I bet she wouldn't even remember her head if it wasn't attached to her.”

“What do you think she and that other girl…um Yaoyao, was it?” You asked, and at Baizhu's nod of confirmation, you continued your question. “What do you think those two are up to right now?”

“I can't say I am one hundred percent positive, but maybe they're eating jujube or sharing tales. A madam Ping who lives in the harbor tends to share stories of her long life if she's ever asked. I, myself, have heard one of two of her cherished memories after encountering her at Yujing Terrace.”

Changsheng seemed to mumble something under her breath, nothing you could fully make out, but you caught the words prattle, talk, and predictable old people.

“Stories, eh?” You flicked your tail. “Now that I think about it, you never told me about the tales those children were whispering about when I first started getting spotted around the harbor.”

“You, fish girl, shouldn't have been getting spotted in the first place.”

“Thanks, Changsheng, for your great input.”

Baizhu's hand pat your shoulder, wordlessly asking you to just forgive and forget the snake's sharp tongue. A talent he seemed to excel at. Not like he had much of a choice when she was always wrapped around his neck, but still. “We have time to spare before the show. How about I tell you now?”

With a nod you agreed. Told him “then, please, share with me with your tales of wonder.”

So, he did. Baizhu told you of a popular rendition of the Little Mermaid he apparently grew up with. The main character is a curious mermaid, much like yourself, fascinated with the human to such an extent that she wishes to do more than observe it, but to be a part of it. To regale herself in a world of her choosing all with a human man who had captured her eye. A goal she was only able to accomplish by making a deal with a sea witch that split her tail in two.

You couldn't help but wince at the implications, and Baizhu stopped his story short to ask if you were sure you wanted to hear more. But what's the point of listening if you weren't going to hear the full thing? So, of course, you said yes.

Continuing on from where he left, Baizhu explained how the deal involves the human (aka a prince in this story, for what fairytale would it be without royalty in there with their glittering crowns) having to fall for the mermaid. A task he failed at by turning his gaze to another.

With the loss of her love the mermaid with mutilated body walked towards the shore, agony filling her with every step as she gazed at the waters she once considered home, and turned to seafoam with her thoughts filled with the very man who betrayed her heart.

“That's…” You stared at him with pinched eyebrows, lips curled slightly as you ran the story through your head again and again. “Well, it's certainly nothing like the tales of my own kind I grew up with.”

“No?" His brow raised. "I would love to hear them. Especially seeing as you never told me much about the waters that raised you.”

Now that he mentioned it, you never did answer many of his questions that third run in, opting to glare at Baizhu instead as you did your best to stay on guard. Considering it now, you were overtly hostile to the man, but he wasn't swayed in the least.

Though, that's besides the point.

“Are we just going to brush over the mermaid violence though? It's like you humans are obsessed with tragedy or something.”

Even a storyteller who was roaming about on the docks, tea cup in hand as he talked, seemed fixated on tragic endings. He seemed to revel in them as he acted out the scenes with barely contained excitement. So obvious even you could pick it up with your arms wrapped around wooden pillars to keep yourself from floating off, drifting like a stick in the waves, as you listened in.

“Well, I can't disagree with you there.”

He leaned closer to you, the boat tilting once more, threatening to let some water slip in as he hovered close to you. Nose almost brushing yours. Like this, it was so easy to make out every detail; the scales of Changsheng's body as she called you two disgusting as made her way down Baizhu's arm to wrap herself around the paper lantern, still trying to keep herself warm; his golden, slitted eyes; and the way his lips were curved into a smile.

“Careful,” You found yourself whispering, “we wouldn't want you tipping out of the boat.”

Baizhu found himself repeating the words “that would be unfortunate” to himself a couple times, whispering under his breath, but he was too close for you not to hear. To pick up every intonation, every word soaked in his thick accent you still haven't placed yet, having only heard it from him.

“So, um…”

Before you could say anything else, you heard a loud bang echoing in your ears. It made your head snap to the direction it came from, the harbor alight with sparks of purple raining down. Glittering as each colorful drop fell and dated as if it never existed in the first place.

“I believe the show has begun,” Baizhu whispered to you as he pulled back, moving to the lantern he began to pick up. Gentle hands, careful as always, even with paper, lifted it up just as a plethora of other lanterns filled the sky.

An array of shapes, of wishes whispered to them in hushed tones as hands let go of the paper constructs, trusting them to take care of their dreams as they took flight. Rising into the air as they dotted the sky. Reflecting off the water where you swam under their light, glowing with them.

Baizhu sat in the boat, eyes following you as you watched in wonder even as Changsheng said something in his ear. Right now, you couldn't bring yourself to care enough to pick up the words. Not as, for a hint of a moment, you truly thought this place looked like the depths of Enkanomiya.

The lone star once again in a sea of brilliance.

Baizhu found himself sitting back, letting the snake inch herself back up his arm and around his neck as he watched the mermaid, you, finally looking truly at peace since the first time he met you.

No fear, no hostility, no tears in your eyes. Simply being.

“Are you planning to give the fish girl over there the good luck tassel you made?” He heard Changsheng ask, the hiss in her voice as familiar as breathing despite the fact he suddenly felt short of air.

It wasn't a need to cough that was plaguing him, no need to pull out a handkerchief that always gets stained with blood after a use or two, but the sudden lack of oxygen willing to fill his lungs as you stole it from him.

All from simply looking just so…happy.

“Later.” Baizhu finally found himself telling her. “For now, let's just enjoy the moment.”

That night he found his hand running over the red string in his hands, the knot he made with ease, practiced fingers having pulled each knot into perfection, suddenly made his heart hammer away in his chest.

Changsheng's teasing wouldn't stop, not ever since he said goodbye by pressing a kiss to your cheek right before you dipped back under the water, but somehow he didn't mind even as his ears burned.

He couldn't help but wonder as he stood there with the knot in hand, moonbeams peeking through the windows in a way that had him wishing to see the glow of your tail once again, how selfish could he possibly be as Baizhu confessed how he wanted to be your newfound home.

The thought was only cut short as another cough wracked his body.

Only the moon could know what lay in his heart.

The very moon you were staring up at now as your mind wandered back to the kiss Baizhu had graced you with. So soft, so gentle. It had your hands wading in the waves, just trying to discard the thought enough to cool your heated face.

Somehow the cold water wasn't enough to do the job for you as you dove back to your shelter.

What was with him, anyway, you thought to yourself as your webbed fingers once again picked up that tin he had laid out for you so long ago. It didn't shine now, not like it did in the blinding light that hung in the sky, but it was eye-catching nonetheless.

And it wasn't because it was another treasure in your collection.

“Maybe I can…see him tomorrow.”

There hadn't been any plans to, but surely it wouldn't be too hard to catch his attention. All the clean up from the festival would surely mean the city streets would be filled with a hustle and bustle that would capture your eyes as people groaned about needing to work once more, but that would mean…

It would be risky getting near the surface again, what with those fishing lines, but the idea of peaking your head out long enough to spot the healer on one of his daily walks had you clutching the tin to your chest.

Scales glowing against the scratched metal as you recalled the taste of sakura blossom cakes Baizhu had gifted you weeks ago on your tongue even as salt tainted the subtle tang of flowers.

You found yourself cursing the same salt water as you spit it out of your mouth when you were peaking at the harbor. Eyes watching the ever busy foot traffic as you ducked behind the tall statues that seemed to welcome every ship that came to Liyue. Calling out a silent hello as sailors docked and joined the fray of endless heads looking around the (as Baizhu told you) golden city.

An endless sea of browns, blacks, two heads of blue as you swore one of them almost pushed the other into the water, and lastly a distinct green you could never mistake for someone else.

Not when it was the color of seaweed in the shining light of day.

Plus, a little snake wrapped around the person's neck helped too.

Baizhu.

The boat rocked for a moment, sending ripples along the water as you leaned forward a bit more to get a peak at him, only to dart back just as quickly. Hiding away behind the beams of wood that kept you covered. Well, mostly. Your tail could only hide so well in the shadows even on an otherwise overcast day.

Okay, maybe you were being a bit stalkerish.

Looking up at the sky you took in the gray clouds, like those plastic bags that littered the sea you had fished out time and time again only to throw at a random sailors head after you had gathered enough of them to curl up into a ball. The fact they always cursed after, looking around in confusion, only added to your amusement.

A small smile took over your face at the thought, even as your heart seemed to be grasped between your own webbed fingers. Worry gnawing at the muscle that had served you so well throughout all these years.

Since when did Baizhu make you feel just as- if not more- nervous than spotting the vishaps roaming about in the water back home?

He had just been roaming about the market, those black shoes you had to fish from the ocean (more than once as the waves captured them and dragged them off as high tide came in) beating against the wooden docks you have more experience hiding under than you care to admit, and eyes scanning about the endless stalls. That was normal. You had seen him just like that during all your trips to the harbor as you poked around and filched from stray boats.

Not that you'd ever admit to that last part if asked.

Daring another glance, you looked out from behind the boat, eyes immediately finding your target.

He seemed paler than yesterday, even without the moon casting her gentle glow down on you both. Silver would grace the ocean as her reflection would be cupped between Baizhu's wet hands….but now…

Maybe you should leave.

He always got so defensive when you caught Baizhu looking even the slightest bit off. Especially on that day, you had wiped powder from his skin, and Baizhu's expression screamed for you to not mention how you could see he was falling apart under your grasp. So fragile for a creature made to stand the trails the land had to offer.

You bit back your need to call for him, to try and capture Baizhu’s attention when all it would do was out that a mermaid truly has been lurking in Liyue's waters.

Even as you saw him leaning against a cane in his hand. Clutching onto it with white knuckles. Changsheng clearly said something to him as her mouth moved.

This was wrong.

Something was off.

And you wanted to curse even the black ocean that had birthed you as you turned your back to the sight.

You would see him in a few days on that same beach you two always found yourself at anyway. Baizhu would smile, take your hand in his like your claws didn't bother him at all, and he'd lie about why he hasn't been around, and maybe then you'd have the courage to actually make him answer you when you ask about it.

For now, though, you heard a loud splash as you dove under the water.

Tail flicking as you avoided the fishing lines, just like a spider's web, as their strings collect the dew of a fresh morning.

….

A splash?

You had sworn you were careful, not wanting to risk one of the sailors atop the deck running over to cast their gaze past the helm of the ship to land right on your and your black tail.

Turning around you could swear the salt, the very same ever present feeling that had taken your gills ages to get used to after you had scratched at them for hours each night before finally settling down, suddenly washed away.

It didn't linger on your tongue. It didn't sting your eyes. It didn't even tease at your fins mockingly as you saw a bright green in the water.

Just like algae.

Just like seaweed.

Bubbles erupted from your mouth as his name fell from your lips, voice muffled by the very thing you breathed even as you screamed it.

If this was above the surface, that single word would surely have echoed throughout the mountains that seemed to cage Liyue. A battlement for a nation that seemed to welcome any through the waters you were now cursing as you couldn't seem to swim through them fast enough.

You could still see his hair, that braid you had done and undone time and time again even as Changsheng called your work sloppy, filling your vision.

Floating in the water just like the gray and brown fur of a hilichurl as you and the others all watched it fall from the cliffs up above and slowly sink.

Sink.

And sink.

Their mask falling off as the waves wash it away, leaving a grotesque face to be unveiled as everything in their lungs turns to bubbles escaping what you could only assume was their mouths.

At times, you would reach out when no one else was around to witness the scene, and your hand should outstretch just as they were now to grab the mask in curiosity.

Eyes taking in the creature below you as they blinked up at you and you were left without an idea of what to do as it joined the countless corpses that would later become food for the creatures along the ocean floor that feasted on flesh.

Not even the glow of bioluminescent plants had brought light back to their expression as they stopped moving and welcomed the water into their lungs.

Back then you had turned away from them, swam away before another could pass by and ask what you were doing, but now you were stuck with your hand outstretched in pure desperation.

Your fingers wrap around his neck, cradling it as gently as you can even as you swore you caught a glimpse of red dancing in the water before it faded away, joining everything else as you pulled Baizhu close.

And your lips fell on his.

Your last thought was the story you had been told as you breathed water into his lungs.

A little mermaid had fallen for a human. Her eyes always looked at him in wonder and curiosity, for she wished to know all he had to offer. His voice so she may listen to it all day, his hand so she may cradle it in her own, his eyes so she may gaze into them, and lastly: his heart so she may know what it's like to have one that beats with warmth rather than the cold that filled her own veins.

He was everything to her.

A sun that walked on land rather than the clouds above.

He was no angel, but to the mermaid he might as well have been.

She had met him once, and only once, in the midst of the sea as a ship as big as the smallest whale you've seen treaded through the waves. Split the ocean like a knife to fish, with ease. As it did, the mermaid down below looked up, eyes drawn to what was casting a shadow over her form even as all the creatures around her swam away in fright.

You see, she was the only one who swam to it, rather than away.

The little mermaid grabbed onto the ship, hoisted herself up so she could peek her head out and spot everyone aboard as they moved about. Some people said things she couldn't understand (complicated human speech and their idioms), some sang, and one danced along the wooden planks even as they creaked in protest.

That one, that human, is who captured her eye.

His smile was like no others, his beauty incomparable to even the shiniest of pearls, and his eyes brighter than the very waters she lived in.

She fell in love with the human right then and there.

Holding onto the ship, the mermaid let herself sit and watch even as the day passed, and she could have sworn the night came, but instead, it was only the clouds coming in. Did that matter to her? No, not when her sun was right before her eyes.

The little mermaid only noticed when the people aboard started yelling at each other as the rain came in and the clapping of thunder could be heard. Booming across the sky.

A storm had rolled in.

It tossed the ship over the waves and threw everything back and forth until finally it collided into a rock with the same boom the thunder sang.

The little mermaid was tossed aside, left to drift in the water along with the other men that had once been aboard. Pieces of wood floated around her along with barrels, a chest or two, and the cloth that had been billowing in the wind, pushing the ship along. Like this, it was no longer pure white as it was tainted with the very thing filling her lungs.

Filling everyone's lungs.

Frantically the little mermaid looked around, scanning over the people around her who were clinging on to whatever they could, as she tried to spot the human she had watched the past few hours that seemed to drift by her like a dream.

In the storm, she had barely noticed his hand slipping under the water as the human lost his grip to the piece of driftwood he clung to.

So she saved him. The only way a mermaid knew how. Her lips fell to her sun's as scales tickled at his legs, transforming them to something else. To something familiar to only her and her kind.

For she had made him just like her.

Golden sand was coarse under Baizhu's hands and cheek, caking at his skin like a second layer of skin. A molt, just like Changsheng's, as she wiggled out of the shedding scraps of scales. He had helped her time and time again free herself of it as she hissed in annoyance, even as it found its ways under his nails. Later on, Baizhu would clean it out, just like he would with the sand, but for now, that was his last concern as his head groggily put itself together.

There was a haze to his mind, like it was trying to drag him down into the Abyss itself, but that barely mattered as water popped in his ears, and the sound of wailing finally hit him.

Cries.

The same wavering cry he had listened to as he held a mermaid in his lap and let her cling onto him for dear life. Just like back then hearing that noise had Baizhu aching to fix what was plaguing her, but he knew he couldn't make it alright.

But maybe now….

With a groan, Baizhu's hand moved against the sand, even as it felt wrong against his hand, almost overwhelming in a way as he reached out. Hand wrapping around another's with webbed fingers he had long since gotten used to.

“B-Bai?” Her croaked voice rang out.

He wanted to say “I'm right here, so cry all you need” but the words didn't seem to escape Baizhu's mouth. Halting on his tongue like he was choking on air of all things. Clearly, he was parched, but Baizhu pushed through it anyway the moment he could feel her clinging onto him back. Fingers wrapping around his own outstretched hand.

“What happened?”

Without missing a beat she immediately replied: “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't-”

Baizhu couldn't even get a word out as she sobbed how she didn't know what to do.

“I- there was nothing else- I couldn't…Baizhu…”

Opening his eyes hurt as the light of day suddenly blinded him, causing Baizhu to scrunch his nose up as he tried to adjust once again to the otherwise gray and overcast day. In the sand, his glasses laid next to a familiar white skin, Changsheng nestled up on herself as she shivered away, just barely keeping herself warm.

“Shhh…” Baizhu's hand brushed her hair out of her face, still wet from the water when she…

Actually, he couldn't remember how he got here. Not clearly, anyway.

Wasn't he on the docks before? Cane in hand as he tried not to lean on it too much to make it obvious he had been struggling. Changsheng whispering in his ear about how stupid Baizhu was for daring to think he could handle going out, for pushing himself any further despite coughing up blood that very morning, was the last thing he could recall clearly.

Everything else seemed to be drowned out.

“Dear?” Baizhu asked.

For a moment, he couldn't help but smile as she looked up at him, seafoam spilling from her eyes he easily wiped away. Somehow, the feeling of the suds like bubbles didn't feel so unnatural to him this time.

“What's wrong?”

“I didn't- I didn't know what else to do. The others never taught me. I wasn't even sure this would work…”

“I am sure you did what you could.”

“Please, don't be mad.” She pleaded with him.

“How could I ever be mad at you? When I want to be your hom-”

He wasn't given a chance to reassure her any further as his glasses were slid right onto his face, the metal legs usually a stinging cool after he hadn't worn them for so long barely even phased him now.

Her wide eyes looked up at him, the same ones made to be attuned to the dark that looked so beautiful in the light of day, and her hand was wrapped around his.

But all he could focus on was the scales he could now make out with a clear vision marring his skin.

…Why had she been apologizing so much?

Baizhu's fingers twitched against her hold, double checking those scales weren't just her own despite the fact the color of them was far from the inky black he had grown to associate the mermaid with. No, they were like the color of clearwater jade. They were his.

“I'm sorry.” She whispered to him one last time, but Baizhu barely heard the words as his eyes flicked down to take in the sight of where his legs were supposed to be, now replaced with a long tail and flowing fins.

Baizhu mumbled her name, and she looked up at him with frightened eyes. Eyebrows pinched together like she was just waiting for some type of reaction that would have her jumping into the water and swimming away. He could even see her tail twitching.

“It's not reversible.” She admitted.

That was enough to have his hand dropping from hers as questions filled his mind.

What about Qiqi who was waiting for him back home?

What about the pharmacy he had dedicated so much of himself to?

What about- his eyes flicked to Changsheng, still curled up and shivering in the sand, cold blooded just like he was. (At least now he was). What about her?

“Baizhu?” His dear asked, and he couldn't even find it in himself to respond as he simply stared down at the one he had promised to save all those years ago.

‘It's not reversible’ ran through his mind again.

This time, he couldn't find the energy to wipe away the seafoam clinging to the mermaid's eyes as she whispered his name, and he stared back at her in horror.

#baizhu x reader #baizhu x you #baizhu x y/n #fem reader #mermay #hoyoverse #genshin impact #genshin x reader #x reader #genshin impact x reader #banner by cafekitsune #please read this

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taylorswiftstyle · 10 months

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The 25 Best Taylor Swift Gifts Will Never Go Out of Style

Curated with the help of a Taylor Swift style expert

With every Taylor Swift sighting in 2023—out to dinner, at a football game, out to dinner with the guy from the Chiefs—the singer gives fans a window into her personal style and inspiration for holiday shopping. According to Sarah Chapelle, creator of the fashion identification site Taylor Swift Style (@taylorswiftstyled on Instagram) and author of a forthcoming book on Swift's relationship with fashion, Taylor Swift's style is defined by three pillars: a high-low mix of luxury designers and more accessible, high-street brands, a habit of rewearing the same pieces multiple times, and a love of supporting small businesses alongside globally recognized brands. "This trifecta works in tandem and, I believe, supports her natural inclination and taste in style but also helps to project [her] friendly, approachable image," Chapelle explains.

It's also highly shoppable. The high-low mix in Swift's wardrobe and beauty routine means there are plenty of Swift tested-and-approved gifts to purchase ahead of the holiday season. "In addition to official merchandise—there are a few rare pieces that have their own cult-like status—Swifties are typically motivated when one of Taylor's fashion exacts is priced more accessibly than the haute couture designer goods," Chapelle says.

...

If you really want to put in the research for your favorite Swiftie, consider shopping secondhand for a piece Swift wore in a past era. "[I]f someone managed to find a secondhand exact piece from Taylor's fashion archives that I've loved," Chapelle notes, "that would be such a great gift for someone like myself who has a highly detailed fashion index going back years." (For any friends reading, Chapelle's most wanted are a green Elie Saab bag and a Topshop coat Swift wore in 2014.)

...

Ahead, shop the 25 best Taylor Swift gifts for fans of every era, onstage and off. The lineup ahead includes Chapelle-recommended pieces worn by Swift, my personal favorites from Swift's recent street style, and items inspired by Swift's expansive musical catalog.

#tss news

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waynes-multiverse · 2 years

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Labyrinth

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: A dangerous Wendigo hunt takes the Winchesters and their companion to an abandoned mine shaft and a maze of tunnels. Dean, on the other hand, not only has to find an exit in an underground cave system but also fights against his feelings for a young huntress as he battles through a labyrinth of thoughts and fears.

Warnings: a bit of language, angst, a trifecta of monsters, caves & earthquakes, canon-level violence, injuries & rebars, protective!Dean, idiots in love, silly jealousy, fluff

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Written as a request for @tieddown-withbattleshipchains. Hope this scratches the itch! It turned out a little angstier because Wendigos scare the shit outta me, but there’s tons of fluff in between and certainly at the end! 🥰 Inspired by Labyrinth by Taylor Swift (Duh. What else? 😂) and my favorite horror flick The Descent. Enjoy!

Feedback is highly appreciated! Get me drunk on it and fill my writer’s juice 🤓🥃

Main Masterlist | Dean Winchster Masterlist

Have you ever loved someone so much that just being in their distanced proximity hurts your heart? Loved someone so much that every time they pass you by, their scent drives you mad, their voice gives you shivers, and your own words fail to come clean? So much that lunacy seems like sanity?

Well, Dean pretty much feels precisely like this, feels like he’s going slowly but surely insane as he trails behind Y/N through the woods of Montana. Every wind, even the tiniest breeze, wafts microscopic particles of her perfume into his nostrils, causing him to bite the insides of his cheeks harder, hoping the metallic taste will erase everything that is her. So far, not even the intense smell of pine helps, though. For the last half an hour, all he keeps thinking about is the huntress he’s known for years, wondering if he were able to taste the M&Ms she ate earlier in the car on her tongue once he would finally gather enough courage to kiss her – not that this fantasy would ever be maintainable in the first place.

It’s like a kid’s dream. Dean’s a rockstar, an astronaut, and a pilot all at once whenever he’s near her.

“I think we should be there in an hour,” Y/N muses and halts in her boots to check map and compass, Sam instantly joining her to take a look over her shoulder. “The mine shaft and the cave system are a few miles up the mountain. If we follow the trail along the river, it should lead us right there.”

“Sounds good. We still have enough daylight,” Sam agrees with a resolute nod and a look to the sky, where the sun is still standing high above their heads.

Dean, on the other hand, ignores the eerie feeling in his gut. Aware Y/N is a seasoned hunter with a superb skill set, he knows there’s no real reason for him to worry more than he should. She can handle herself; she always could. It’s a hunt like any other, one of many over the years. Hell, it’s not even the first Wendigo they’ve hunted together. There was another one three years back in Michigan. So truly, what’s different this time?

Right, his fucking feelings…

Y/N and Sam keep chatting as they cheerily march up the mountain, their breaths not even remotely labored, even though the climb is pretty steep. Apparently, going for a jog every morning pays off. Dean, however, stays quiet and trails behind them, green eyes observing their surroundings as he swallows the tiny bit of apprehension and jealousy down.

“You’re quiet today,” Y/N notes and purposely falls back to his speed as Sam wanders ahead – not before the younger Winchester shoots his older brother a secret look that says tell her, though. “You okay?”

The green-eyed hunter mirrors the small smile on her lips and nods, gulping, “Yeah, I’m fine, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” Y/N accepts with a slight pout, although she’s obviously far away from buying his lie. She licks her lips and adjusts the straps of her backpack on her shoulders. “So, uhm, after the hunt, I figured we could check out that bar across the motel?”

“Sounds good,” Dean agrees, his smile widening and cheeks blushing, even though it’s just the usual hunter invitation to celebrate the end of a case.

“Okay, great,” Y/N lets out a small breath of relief. Was she nervous to ask him? Why the hell would she be? “I actually have to tell you something, so I could use a little liquid courage.”

Dean’s brow furrows, his heart rate accelerating. “Liquid courage? For what? You know you can always tell me everything.”

“Not everything,” Y/N mumbles and averts her gaze to the trail ahead.

“C’mon, what is it?” Maybe it’s wishful thinking or sheer curiosity, but Dean can’t help it and hopes she feels the same way he does, although it sounds like complete insanity again. She’ll probably only confess that she’s been in love with Sam this whole time. He is the smarter choice, after all. Just look at that flawless mane of hair!

Y/N only shakes her head at him and hides a mischievous grin behind her lip bite. “Nuh-uh, forget it. Not drunk enough yet,” she says and then hops forward to join Sam again.

After an hour, the three hunters finally reach the mine shaft that leads to an intricate cave system – the perfect hideout for a monster. Eight women disappeared here last week, the location a popular hotspot for everyone who seeks thrills and adventures. Dean doesn’t count himself as one of those people. His life is adventurous enough as is. Frankly, he would’ve preferred pay-per-view at the motel over this hellish trip.

Equipped with flashlights, the three carefully stalk inside. It’s incredibly dark and humid, low growls echoing off the stony, muddy walls, so the hunters know they’ve found the right place. The monster is definitely here, even though it still sounds miles away, which isn’t ideal. It only means they have to venture further in, and Dean already hates this with every fiber of his goddamn being. Caves are not exactly his favorite hunting grounds. Y/N, however, seems as fearless as ever, and Dean can’t help but admire her endless bravery. Obviously, she’s so out of his league it’s not even a little bit funny.

“Did you guys hear that?” Y/N stops in her tracks, her ears perked as she surveys the array of noises that bleed through.

“Woman’s voice?” Dean checks, although he’s sure all three of them can hear the faint screams and whimpers.

“One of ‘em is still alive, apparently,” Sam muses, concern and sympathy etched into his brow.

“I think it’s coming from here,” Y/N says and holds her ear to a small cave opening in the wall – if you can even call it that, the entrance as big as a cartoonish mouse hole.

“We can’t fit in there. We need to find another way around it,” Sam informs them and pulls out the cave map they’ve received from a park ranger.

“You guys can’t fit in there.”

“What?!” Dean’s head snaps to Y/N as soon as those words leave her mouth, seeing the gears turning in her head.

“I’m small… unlike my broad-shouldered friends. I can fit,” she shrugs casually as if it wasn’t the craziest suggestion she’d ever made.

“Mm-mm, no. You’re not squeezing through a small tunnel with a monster waiting for you on the other side, Y/N,” Dean tells her sternly, only one sharp tone away from making it a full-on order.

“Dean, she might be dead by the time we get there. I can do this,” Y/N assures him. “This isn’t my first Wendigo, you know?”

As Dean glances at Sam for some support, surely convinced his little brother would come to the same conclusion, the green-eyed hunter soon notices Sam’s suspicious silence on the subject matter and frowns. So much for brotherly support…

“Dean, it might be the only way to save that girl,” Sam agrees. Of course, the gentle giant does.

“Alright, so we all agree,” Y/N smiles and throws her backpack on the ground, pulling out a few flares, a machete, and a lighter.

“No, we don’t,” Dean shakes his head vehemently. “I don’t agree. Not at all. Very much disagree with this plan, in fact.”

“Okay, noted. It’s still two against one, so sorry. Guess you’re losing this one, De,” Y/N says simply and then puts the flashlight into her mouth, proceeding to crawl through the narrow opening.

Dean’s close to grabbing her ankles and pulling her back out, not caring about any surefire protests on her part and the huntress’s wrath as his heart pounds so harshly and loudly against his ribs it almost sounds like a Neil Peart drum solo in his chest.

“Y/N, you still okay?” Dean checks after a minute when the soles of her shoes have disappeared from his sight. As he shines his flashlight into the tunnel, he recognizes her a few feet ahead. “I don’t like this,” he tells Sam, chewing roughly on his plump bottom lip while his brow is in a constant crinkle.

“Me neither, but it’s the only choice we have, Dean,” Sam counters and focuses back on the map in his hands.

“Oh, is it?!” Dean mocks in sheer sibling annoyance. “You better find out where that tunnel leads and how we can fucking get there,” he barks as the anxiety claims his lungs. “Fast.”

“Already on it,” Sam assures him.

Dean’s heart only gets a single second free of concern, though, before Y/N’s voice rings every alarm bell in his goddamn head.

“Guys? There’s something wrong here. And there’s definitely blood and… stuff in this tunnel,” Y/N informs them, her voice barely audible the farther she gets. “It’s really gross…”

“Okay, Y/N, just get back out here. We’ll find another way,” Dean orders her, his flashlight and eyes unable to see her as he peers into the hole again. Her sweet voice is all he has left now.

“I-I don’t think I can move back out, De,” she says, her tone laced with slight panic now. “This thing is kinda tight. Kinda like… You know what? Never mind.” Dean knows she attempted a dirty joke there, one he certainly would’ve appreciated if he wasn’t currently fearing for her life. “I can only go forward. Just meet me at the end, okay?”

Quite panicked himself at this point, the green-eyed hunter turns back to his brother, “You found it yet?”

“Uh, yeah, I think it’s that way,” Sam muses and points at one of three tunnel options ahead.

“You think or you know, Sam?!”

And because misery loves company, at this exact moment, the ground, the walls, the ceiling all suddenly begin to violently shake and tremble, small pieces of stone and dirt coming loose. There’s a “shit” echoing through Y/N’s tunnel that reaches the hunter’s ears before more rumblings follow, more stones fall, and the tunnel closes completely and cuts the huntress off from the brothers.

“Was that a fucking earthquake?” Dean tries to shield his head from falling debris and coughs the dirt from his lungs before frantically checking the small tunnel for proof of life, but all he can see is dirt, dust, and more stones. “Y/N? Y/N! Are you alright, sweetheart? FUCK!”

“Dean, c’mon, we’ll find her,” Sam soothes and heads for the far left tunnel opening.

“Why is there a fucking earthquake in Montana? It’s not freaking California,” Dean huffs as he stomps behind his little brother, hoping the huntress is still alive and not hurt too badly as he speeds up his strides. Either she’s been crushed to death, or a monster will munch on her, and needless to say, neither option is acceptable to him.

“Actually, Montana has seven to ten every day, which makes it the fourth most seismically active state,” Sam shares his National Geographic knowledge nonchalantly, earning him an angry scowl from the green-eyed hunter.

Yeah, guess what – Dean’s not super interested in random nerd facts right now.

There’s a loud scream that echoes through the cave system, and for an agonizing heartbeat, Dean halts in his boots as he recognizes the voice. No doubt it’s Y/N’s, and his feet set into motion and start running, following the noises of struggle as he rounds corner after corner, blindly running into different tunnels as Sam tries to keep up with him.

The maze of cave tunnels feels as familiar as his mind, a labyrinth of unknown paths that lead him to different options. But the green-eyed hunter doesn’t need a map anymore; he knows exactly where to find her without wasting a single thought on it. His heart is still the best navigation system.

There’s a flicker of red light at the end of his path, and Dean knows Y/N is close. There are growls and hisses before he hears the huntress desperately call his name – his and not Sam’s. It definitely shouldn’t warm his heart the way it does, especially in a life-or-death situation like this, but Dean literally can’t help the slight relief and happiness he feels in his chest over that fact, although he probably shouldn’t read too much into it.

Y/N’s brightly burning flare comes into view first before his emerald eyes spot the huntress on the ground and then the monster. She’s fending off the Wendigo as best as she can, keeping it at bay as she waves her flare in the air like a weapon, but Dean notices soon enough that she can’t move much and is hurt badly.

The older hunter quickly grabs the hairspray, pushes down on the dispenser, and lights the aerosol mist of chemicals on fire with his lighter – Y/N’s genius idea for a weapon, which she came up with in the motel room before their hunt. The flames shoot out and set the monstrous bastard on fire while Sam aims the flamethrower and incinerates the monster for good. Tarantino style, as Dean likes to call it. Unfortunately, he lost the round of Rock, Paper, Scissors over the glorious weapon to his younger brother, but truthfully, the hairspray was still satisfying enough.

As the monster turns to ash, Sam runs to the half-alive victim tied to a pole while Dean rushes to the huntress’s side. He cups her cheeks as she winces, inspecting her whole body and assessing her for injuries when he notices the small piece of rebar stuck in the side of her stomach, blood oozing out around the metal and pooling underneath her body.

“Ow, shit,” Y/N hisses and tries to wiggle, hand curling around his bicep. Dean’s hands quickly steady her before she accidentally drives the damn thing even deeper into her body.

“Shhh, don’t move, sweetheart. It’s gonna be okay, alright?” Dean assures her, although he’s frankly not sure if his calming words are more for his sake than hers. “Just breathe in and breathe out... There you go.”

“I-I don’t… I’m, uhm…,” Y/N trails off, her eyelids fighting to stay open, and his heart only begins to hammer louder in his ribcage, drumming in his ears.

“Y/N? Y/N, stay awake for me, okay?” But her eyes close for good, her palm lifelessly dropping from his arm to the ground. “SAM!”

“Dean, you can’t keep staring at her,” Sam reminds him, his voice only faintly audible behind the green-eyed hunter as his mind solely focuses on Y/N’s unconscious body in the motel room bed. “She’s gonna be creeped out when she wakes up.”

“Shut up,” Dean grumbles and hears Sam’s sigh of frustration and resignation.

“Alright, Twilight. I’ll grab more stuff from the pharmacy. She’s gonna need it,” Sam announces, hand reaching for the doorknob. “Be back in a few.”

As the door of the small motel room closes, Dean lets his head fall between his knees as he sits on the chair next to her bed, the tension still very much prominent in his shoulders and neck, although she should be in the clear by now. It certainly has been touch-and-go for a while, Y/N drifting in and out of consciousness, passing out from the pain as the brothers carefully removed the sharp piece of metal from her lower abdomen and stitched her up. Sam even had to send the older Winchester for a calming drive in the Impala while the younger one tended to her injuries, not being able to work with Dean’s constant yelling in his ears. The green-eyed hunter had surely been close to a breakdown. Luckily, they could forgo the hospital this time, the rebar not piercing through any serious organs and rupturing a spleen or a kidney.

His green eyes drift to her sleeping form. She seems a lot better now, some pinkish color having returned to her cheeks. Y/N always scares him, usually because she’s so much smarter and tougher than him, and every time he tried to order her around in the past always backfired, with her almost biting his whole head off. This time, though, she terrified him in a completely different way. She was pale, white as a sheet in his arms as he rushed her down the mountain. He swears he’s never run faster in his life. Even Sam, the professional jogger and marathon runner, could barely keep up, and Dean still feels the aching blisters from his boots whenever he shuffles on his feet too much.

“What would I have done if you died, huh?” the hunter mutters under his breath to no one in particular, knowing she’s dead asleep, and screws open the cap of his flask, taking a big gulp of whiskey, letting the burning liquid numb his throat. “You know if I lost you…” Another sip keeps the pricking tears in his green orbs at bay while his mind is battling a breakthrough. “I-I just… I can’t do that, you know? Probably would take me my whole life to get over you. I know you don’t know that, but you’re really important to me, y’know? I mean, hell, you can’t hear me anyways, so I might actually admit it for once,” he sighs at his own stupidity, fingers tapping against the silver flask. “I’ve been in love with you, Y/N… for a while, actually. At least, I think that’s what all those icky twinges in my chest are. Doesn’t feel like heartburn, like after eating a cheeseburger... I mean, they’re pretty much only there whenever you’re around, so that’s gotta be it, right? Love. Not like I have a lot of experience with that… I mean, not that I’m a virgin. I’ve had sex, you know? I just… I’ve never done the feelings thing. At least not well, I guess. So, in that case, you could probably say I’m a feelings virgin…”

Dean then groans loudly and lets his head drop into his palms, rubbing a hand across his freckled face. “Jesus fucking Christ, fuck me. God, I sound like an idiot… Thank God you can’t hear me. This is like the worst trial run ever… I mean, not like I would actually ever have enough courage to tell you all that shit while you’re actually awake, you know? I’m kinda a coward when it comes to that stuff. I mean, let’s be honest here for a second, you don’t care about me, right? You probably have the hots for Sammy. Can’t really blame you. You know, I’m not a girl, but I get it. Sometimes I’d like to tug on that hair too, so…”

And that’s when Dean’s muscles suddenly stiffen, his cheeks draining all color as he notices Y/N’s whole body quaking. His heart stops as he hears the first few snorts that slowly morph into a giggle and then into a full-on laugh.

Shit…

“Are you fucking awake?!”

Y/N pops one eye open at first, carefully checking the extent of his angered shock before she dares to pry open the second one, a mischievous twinkle gleaming in her orbs and an amused smile shaping on her pink lips.

“Okay… How much did you hear?”

Y/N shrugs her shoulders as much as she can and chuckles, “Well, pretty much… all of it.”

Dean scoffs, shaking his head as the tips of his ears turn beet red in shame. “What kinda psycho bitch pretends to be asleep while a man pours his heart out, huh? You know, I thought you were practically fucking dead!”

Y/N snorts and rolls her eyes. “You did not. And I think you mean, ‘What kinda psycho bitch pretends to be asleep while an idiot pours his heart out?’”

“Okay, haha, funny,” Dean huffs and chugs his flask. Is it too late to go back to that cave and hope the Wendigo eats him? “Can we just pretend this never happened before Sam gets back, please?”

Y/N responds with a casual twitch of her shoulders as she props herself up on the mattress. “I mean, sure… If that’s what you want.”

“Yeah, that’s what I want, okay?” Dean affirms, nodding. “Don’t want shit to be awkward between us from now on, you know?”

“Yeah, no, I totally get it,” Y/N agrees. “I mean, it would be pretty awkward for you if I didn’t feel the same way about you, which I do.”

“Yeah, see? Glad you get it,” the hunter huffs before his head snaps to her, green eyes widening and growing to the size of the moon. “Wait, what?!”

Y/N’s laughter then fills the motel room, but he can barely hear it over his own pounding heartbeat. Did she just say what he thinks she said? No, right? He heard that wrong. Jesus fuck, he better not make an even bigger fool out of himself.

“You’re cute,” Y/N tells him then and starts chewing on her lower lip.

Dean swallows thickly. “What, uh, what does that mean?”

“Jesus, you really are a feelings virgin,” she snorts another laugh and winces, all the giggles hurting her freshly stitched wound. Good, Dean thinks. She surely deserves that pain.

His cheeks heat up as he awkwardly clears his throat. “Wha-, uh… Let’s not make that a thing, okay? Please?”

“Oh, it’s totally gonna be a thing,” Y/N teases, chuckling.

“Great, mhm…” God, someone help him.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Hm, yeah?”

Y/N doesn’t say anything more – all he feels then is her soft lips pressing against his. The tension finally dissipates from his shoulders, his muscles relaxing as he leans into the kiss, his heart thumping wildly in his chest before it drops between his boots. He breathes her in, breathes into the kiss as her tongue slyly sneaks into his mouth and deepens the overwhelming passion as his head becomes dizzier the longer it lasts.

As he fervently kisses her back, he has finally found the right exit and leaves the labyrinth of his mind behind him. He’s on the right path, and it’s goddamn better than his imagination.

A few more one-shots are coming your way this week, so stay tuned, my loves, and let me know if you enjoyed this fic 🥰🖤

Everything Jensen Tags: @extraterrestriali @this-is-me19 @writercole @awkward-and-indecisive @eevvvaa @panicking-outside-the-disco @globetrotter28 @imherefordeanandbones @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @xlynnbbyx @jassackles @maggiegirl17 @perpetualabsurdity @deans-spinster-witch @deandreamernp @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @lyarr24 @deanwanddamons @deanwithscissors @mrsjenniferwinchester @justrealizedimmascifygurl @akshi8278 @flamencodiva @chriszgirl92 @lhymer1995 @wittyboldsoul @djs8891 @leigh70 @snowlovespie @b3autyfuldisast3r @recoveringpastaaddict @ladysparkles78 @muhahaha303 @mimaria420 @creepzeyecandy

Dean Tags: @parinarain @hobby27 @fromcaintodean

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #writing request #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester reader insert #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst

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hexidous · 1 year

Text

Pretty As You Feel

Part II to Silk and Sweat. I highly recommend reading part I for context.

Series Masterlist

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Summary: You find yourself back at the club Joel manages and try your best to seem unafflicted. As hard as you try, you may end up playing it a little too cool.

Warnings: Depictions of stripping, general adult content, oral sex, fingering, spitting, praise kink, degradation kink, daddy kink, the holy trifecta, praise Joelsus

Word count: 4.4k

Slowly sinking down into the epsom salt bath you drew, you feel your tense muscles begin to relax in the hot water.

You imagine Joel behind you, enveloped in his strong embrace. His touch lingered on your skin, your nerves still whirring from his strong hands.

Enough, you think.

You had a rough night and he helped you get through it. Nothing more.

Unfortunately, you were used to men feeling entitled to your body because you chose to put it on display. They pay for a show and get angry when they want more.

When you were young and new to the life, you developed your own mantra to cope with the way you were treated.

What happens to Starla doesn’t happen to you.

You repeat it over and over, distancing yourself from the woman you pretend to be.

It works when it’s a random, rowdy customer causing you to question whether or not the money is worth the shit you put up with. It doesn’t work with Joel.

The way his face contorted into disgust and rage as he pulled that pathetic man off you flashes behind your eyes as you try to relax. How he beat a man bloody for you with ease, seeming to be holding back still.

You think of his face donning a similarly intense look, possibly indecipherable out of context, as he slammed his thick fingers into your desperate cunt.

Joel was a man no little mantra could force out of your head.

You mindlessly worked on whatever jobs came in, the days coming and going in a dull blur. A week went by and you had only petty design jobs coming in, alongside the occasional copywriting gig you’d pick up eagerly.

It wasn’t enough to pay the bills.

You trudged through five thousand words about cooling units and designed a logo for a shitty tech start up before calling it a day. Well, your day called itself because you didn’t have any more work to do.

“You got any rent money this month?” You ask the bemused cat laying on your desk, stopping mid lick of her belly to stare at you. “No? Shocking.”

You scratch behind her little ear before getting up from your chair. “I guess only one pussy is bringing home some money tonight.”

You start to put a bag together, rifling through folded dresses.

Which one would Joel like the most? You find yourself asking.

He strikes you as a man who likes a tasteful woman, not one eagerly putting everything on display. Obviously you didn’t have any modest dresses to wear, but you opted to toss in a few of the less skimpy ones.

Trying to breathe through your nerves, you watch as the bright red sign comes into your view. You park off to the side and grab your bag, clutching the strap tightly.

Play it cool, you warn yourself.

You greet the host at the front desk as you walk past her. You arrive a little later this time, the club already bustling with movement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve got superstar Starla in the house tonight,” Tommy teases in his sultry club DJ affectation.

Joel’s head snaps up from the clipboard he’s holding. You smile and shake your head at him with a roll of your eyes, conveying your disbelief over Tommy’s silliness.

“Glad you decided to come back,” he tells you as you pass by his preferred spot on the floor, tucked away between the bottle service section and private dance room.

“My bank account didn’t give me much of a choice,” you half joke with a shrug before heading to the dressing room.

You don’t feel the need to find an isolated section this time. You take a seat at one of the many chairs lined up facing the stretch of illuminated mirrors. A couple other girls are seated along the row and a few flitter behind you, going to their lockers or on and off stage.

You slip your clothes off, folding them neatly and setting them on the counter.

The dress you decided on for the evening was short and black with long sleeves. The top came down to just low enough to tease at your cleavage. The dress was tighter on you than it used to be, but it hugged your curves nicely. There wasn’t room for a bra beneath it, but the back of it looked much better without one. It was a thick lace pattern, tightly woven flowers and loops dancing down your back, coming to a V-shape at the lowest point of your back. You strapped on some matching black shoes, grabbed your wristlet, and stashed everything else away in your locker.

You make your way through the narrow dressing room and walk up a few stairs leading to the hallway behind the stage, ending with the DJ booth.

“Ready for my spotlight,” you tell Tommy, poking your head into his booth.

“Here’s my superstar!” He bellows happily. “The night can finally begin.”

“Do I have to pay you up front to not torment me?” You joke.

“That was just a little first day hazin’,” he assures with a sly grin.

You turn from his booth and walk back down the dimly lit hallway, toward the pulsing red light of the club.

You exit just beside the stage, taking a good look at the dancer occupying it. She’s naturally brunette with blonde bangs and chunky highlights. Her face dons multiple piercings, one at the center of her bottom lip, a stud on her high cheekbone, settling like a sparkly little tear, and many in her ears. Her tattoos were all black and ornate, slithering across her body, perfect with her fluid, sensual movements.

You take your eyes away and head to the bar, turning slightly to continue to watch the dancer on stage.

Tommy’s voice dwarfs the song playing as it reaches an end. “Give it up for the fine, the feral, the absolutely fierce Fiona!” He bellows enthusiastically. “Now don’t be too scared gentlemen, she don’t bite… much.”

You’re ready for your first drink so you wave to the first man you see walk through the club like an old friend.

“I feel like it would be hard to forget a face so beautiful,” he says, putting a hand on the back of your chair. “But I’m terribly sorry to say I don’t remember you.”

“Oh you don’t know me,” you admit, pretending to look bashful. “But I’m new here and wanted someone to talk to.”

“Well I am honored you chose me,” he says politely before holding out his hand. “David.”

“Starla,” you tell him, shaking his hand softly.

“Oh come on, honey, I know your name ain’t Starla.”

“Look where you are, David,” you poke. “What did you expect? For me to say, ‘Hi, I’m Annie Mae, just a simple girl lookin’ for a husband.”

“Shit, you got me there,” he says after a beat, holding his hands up and feigning surrender. “So, you want a drink, Annie Mae?”

“Why, I’d love one.”

You don’t rush things with David, you know you’re not far off in rotation and it would be nice to have someone stage side for you.

Sure enough, you hear Tommy call you up for the next song as he transitions the music.

“Come see me up there?” You ask as you finish your drink and grab your small sequined clutch.

“Of course, darlin’,” he promises with a smile.

You take long strides to the DJ booth,

“Hey,” you say, getting Tommy’s attention. He turns to you but you cut him off before he can deliver whatever cheesy line he’s churning. “I know it’s not typical strip club music, but can you play Jefferson Airplane’s Somebody to Love?”

“Oh, my brother will love you for that,” he tells you. You cock your head, wondering if his brother was in the crowd, maybe David, but don’t think much of it as he starts to call you up.

“Alright gentlemen, get ready for the sensational, sensual, downright sinful… Starla!”

You take your cue and fling the curtain back dramatically as soon as the song begins.

You know the song well, adjusting your movements from soft and flowing to harsh and abrupt as the melody changes.

You climb the pole deftly before snaking around it and then finally dropping down down into a split on the floor.

Your eyes, I say, your eyes may look like his

You swing your leg around to face the small crowd and bend your knee slightly. You’ve got one hand gripping the pole beside you for leverage as you arch your back and lift your ass, rolling your pelvis slowly. David’s eyes are locked on you. Your gaze moves to the left, unable to help yourself.

Joel’s eyes are locked on you too.

You don’t break your stare until you see David making his way toward you. He sits beside he stage and you crawl toward him, flipping your hair dramatically before rising to your knees, playfully toying with your breasts. You shimmy your hips and bounce up and down like you’re riding an invisible ecock. He slips a twenty in the waistband of your thong as you hold it out. You snap it back and give him a wink.

You casually turn your head toward Joel and find him still staring. Your heart rate picks up, despite already thumping hard from your dancing. He had never watched you so brazenly.

You finish your song and thank David. You try to focus on steady breathing, fluid movements, and not looking back at Joel.

A few more men come up to tip you, though not quite as generously, until finally your set ends.

“I told you he’d like it,” Tommy jeers from his booth. You walk toward him, quickly throwing your dress back on and adjusting your suffocating tits.

“Who?” You finally get to ask. “David?”

“No,” he scoffs. “Joel. Didn’t know he was my brother?”

“Huh. I guess not,” you say in a flat voice, trying not to give hint to any emotion.

“Well you did the song justice. He doesn’t usually watch the girls on stage.”

You try not to blush or seem like you care at all, giving a quick, “Hmm.”

“Probably just zoning out, thinking about getting high in the basement while our parents were at work. I’d hear that shit blasting all the time,” he says with a laugh.

Your stomach drops. Maybe he hasn’t been staring at all, just lost in thought. “Yeah, that’s probably it.”

“I used to barge in, asking him why his room smelled so bad," Tommy laughs. "He'd get so mad, moodier than any teen girl."

You smile at the thought of Joel as an angsty teen. "Well I better get back. Think I got something real special with Dave out there."

"Get 'em, superstar," he calls out as you walk away.

You get a few dances out of David. He tries to get your number or buy you another drink, but you decline.

When you emerge from the private dance room, you're not really sure where to land next. It's slim pickings with most of the men already occupied.

You hear your stage name called by one of the girls sitting at a table of dancers. You walk over and sit down at an empty seat.

“It is Starla, right?” A pretty brunette asks. You nod in response. “I’m Tiffany.”

You exchange pleasantries with the women. You’d known almost all of their names already, it was easy when you heard Tommy announcing them every 10 minutes. But it was nice getting to know them, feeling like less of an outsider.

You chatted casually with the group, tipping them off to the still seated man you had just danced with.

“He just wants to think he has a chance in hell,” you scoff. “Easy money.”

One of the girls, a petite woman named Amber, stands up from her seat and makes her way over to him.

“God damn Joel looks sexy tonight,” Tiffany huffs from across the table, her eyes settling just over your shoulder. “He doesn’t even have to fuck me. Just spit on me. Anything.”

Tiffany notices your silence among the other girls agreement and calls you out.

“You seriously don’t think so?” She asks incredulously.

“I mean, he’s alright,” you lie.

“Right, you’re into Tommy,” she prods teasingly.

“No I’m not,” you scoff.

“He’s fun, but he’s easy,” Tiffany laments. “Joel is a challenge and fuck if I don’t love a good challenge.”

You try to quell the jealousy that begins to brew in your gut.

“Tommy will fuck anyone and Fiona will fight anyone,” another girl says with a laugh.

“They’re fucking but not exclusive,” Tiffany explains. “Doesn’t stop Fiona from losing her shit though.”

“Remember when Valerie blew him in the DJ booth? Bitch went full Monday Night RAW,” a tan, dark haired woman called Raven recounts, evoking laughter from the small group.

“You might want to keep it on the low, Starla,” Tiffany warns. “Fiona’s already caught whiff of you two.”

“Hand to god, nothin’ to smell,” you swear. You weren’t eager for Fiona to hate you but you were comfortable knowing no one had any idea of your infatuation for Joel.

“He’s got a nice dick,” Raven says with a shrug, a couple girls nodding in agreement.

“Before Mary Jane left she told me that Tommy is big but Joel is huge,” Tiffany admits. “Lucky bitch.”

Your cheeks run hot again as you picture Joel’s intimidatingly large bulge inches from your face. You also can’t help but angrily think who the fuck is Mary Jane?

“Well this has been informative, thank you ladies,” you tell the group as you rise from your seat. “But I better go find someone who’ll help my poor landlord pay off his Ferrari.”

The night is winding down to a late end. You hear Tommy play Closing Time as he tells the customers they don’t have to go home but they can’t stay here. It seems very on brand.

“Starla,” you hear Joel’s deep voice call to you. Your pulse quickens and skin becomes tingly from the mere sound of your stage name on his tongue. He continues once you step closer, “I must have tossed your paperwork by accident. Can you hang back for a bit?”

“Yeah, sure,” you tell him, unsure why it couldn’t wait another day. Not that you mind.

You’re slow to get everything together, taking your time organizing your bills and bag. It may just be missing paperwork, but you wanted the club to be empty on the off chance something more may happen. You give it another minute after the last girl leaves the dressing room before making your way to Joel’s office.

You knock lightly on the open door to announce your presence. He turns around and stares at you with an intense look written across his handsome face.

“You wanna suck my cock?” He asks, his demeanor taking a 180 since he last spoke to you.

Your stomach flips. “Yeah,” you reply, stunned. “I really do.”

“Tommy seems to think you wanna suck his,” his gravely voice speaks with a snarl. “That true, too? You just another slut tryna fuck every man who won’t pay you for it?”

“Nope,” you reply cooly, forcing your tone to stay even as your heart tries to escape your chest. “Just a slut who can’t stop thinking of you every time she makes herself cum.”

“Christ,” he mutters, running a palm over his growing cock. Your rapid heartbeat moves lower.

“May I?” You ask innocently, taking a tentative step forward.

“No,” he barks. You take a startled step backward.

He stands up and closes the distance between you two, towering over you now that your seven inch heels are replaced by a pair of comfy slip ons. His broad chest heaves as he stares down at you, the look in his eyes almost scaring you.

Joel brushes past you, leaving you alone in his office.

“Anyone here?” He bellows out to the empty club.

He’s met with silence so you follow him out.

“Wait here,” he tells you as he walks toward the club entrance. You hear the heavy lock fall into place.

Your head is swimming with anticipaion as he stalks back to you. Hell, your panties are too.

“Move,” he commands, pointing to the bottle service area. You do as he says, walking up the few stairs that lead to the semi private area.

The open facing entrance had the trademark red silk curtains strung open. Joel pulls them closed, leaving only the light filtering through the top of the curtains and three quarter wall to illuminate the small area.

“Alright,” he says, facing you. He rubs his hand over the thick cock straining against his pants. “Y’say you want it so damn bad, better make me believe it.”

“Fuck,” you whisper, biting your lip with anticipation as you take him in.

“Excuse me?” He says with a cocked brow, bringing his hands to his hips.

“I will,” you assure in a breathy voice. His brow stays cocked. “Sir,” you add meekly.

“Atta girl,” he says, his gravelly voice sending chills down your spine.

You slowly sink to your knees before him, looking up to meet his dark gaze.

Your hands shake as you bring them up to undo his belt. You don’t think you’ve been this nervous in front of a man since you were a teenager.

You reach into his soft, elastic boxer briefs and grasp his heavy cock, barely able to fit your hand all the way around it.

Your eyes widen as you take him in. His cock is literally mouthwatering. You press your tongue flat against his thick head, precum already beading at the top. You let your pooling saliva run down his shaft before tracing your tongue over the vein that runs down the length of it. You pump his dick slowly with one hand and while sliding his underwear down further, freeing his balls. You duck your head low and bring them into your mouth, gently licking at them.

You hear Joel groan quietly from above you. You look up to find him peering down at you. “Such a good girl,” he says breathlessly.

His praise sends warmth through your entire body. You return your mouth to his cock but gently cup his sensitive scrotum, squeezing lightly. Your jaw feels tight trying to fit his entirety into your mouth without accidentally scraping your teeth against him.

You remember Tiffany’s words from earlier and think how you love a good challenge too. Especially ones that paid off.

You feel the head of Joel’s cock reach the back of your throat and you gag a little before forcing a deep breath in through your nose. You do your best to relax as he starts to thrust his hips up into you, meeting your eager movements. Your free hand grips him at the base, gliding in time with your mouth. You use your thumb to add pressure to the underside of his dick, mirroring the action with your tongue as well.

Moans are escaping with his deep breaths. You look up again and see his eyes clenched shut and his mouth agape. The way his brows furrow and lips curl into a snarl the same way when he was enraged and aroused turns you on endlessly.

You quicken your pace, aching to feel him come undone.

“Wait,” he says weakly, getting closer. “Stop, stop, stop,” he pleads in quick succession.

But you can’t. You’re too drunk off his pleasure to ever quit.

His orgasm spills over, unleashing hot spurts of cum onto your tongue. You swallow him without hesitation.

You tilt your head up, pleased with yourself, but he’s not blissed out like you were hoping.

He seems… angry. Or turned on still. It was really fucking hard to tell.

“Thought I told you to stop,” he snaps.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you mewl.

“Sorry,” he scoffs. “Get up.”

You stand to face him, searching for something other than anger in his expression. He grabs you by the back of your hair, yanking back roughly. You let out a gasp.

“Since ya like swallowing so damn much.” You watch in awe as he spits directly in your open mouth. It partially paints your puffy, sensitive lip. “There you go.”

You swallow his saliva, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth. It’s ironically the closest thing you’ve had to a kiss with him.

“Don’t I get a thank you?” He half questions, half demands in a harsh tone.

“Thank you, sir,” you tell him softly, giving your best innocent doe eyes.

“I guess you didn’t want my cock buried in that pretty pussy, huh?” He taunts.

“I want it so bad,” you whine, “but I wanted to make you feel good.”

His expression softens. “You did, baby,” he says, moving his hand to cup your cheek.

Your heart swells at the pet name and newfound tenderness.

Joel moves his hand again to lift your dress and dip past the waistline of your panties.

“So wet from sucking my cock,” he hums. “I should just leave you like this. Aching for me.”

You don’t want to beg but you shake your head quickly.

“You need to be punished somehow, sweetheart.”

“However you want,” you pant desperately.

His eyes fall on the couch behind you. He takes a few steps before turning to sit on it. He extends a hand out to you.

Tentatively, you make your way toward him. He holds your hand in his as you stand between his open legs, feeling a shyness take over.

“Over my knee, baby,” he tells you.

You turn to the side and bend forward until your hips are resting on his strong thigh and your forearms are resting on the couch. Joel yanks your underwear down swiftly.

Before you can brace yourself you hear a loud smack and feel the sharp sting of his hand. You hiss through your teeth, wondering how many more you have left.

He slaps his hand down again in the same spot, causing you to yelp this time. As he continues, the pain begins to mix with pleasure. You keep yourself from rubbing against his thigh without his permission.

He delivers another blow and you moan loudly. “Fuck, Da-“

“Say it,” he coaxes. “Who am I?” He asks with another sharp slap.

“Daddy!” You cry out, tears threatening to spill over.

He lands one more smack before switching to a soft caress. Your skin is so sensitive, it sends a harsh shiver through your body.

“Your ass looks so pretty covered in my handprints, baby,” he says, continuing to run his fingers lightly over the reddened skin. “You did so good for me.”

“I’m sorry you had to punish me, Daddy,” you sniffle, the tears finally coming down.

“Come here,” he tells you, repositioning your body to face him, straddling his thighs. You study his face in the dim lighting. His eyes always looked a little pained, you realize. Deep set lines etched themselves in his forehead over the heads, softer ones around his eyes. Your gaze wandered over his prominent nose and strong jaw, covered in graying, patchy scruff. He’s not your usual type and yet you couldn’t think of a man you’d ever found more attractive. Your eyes landed on his full lips, dying to kiss them.

He doesn’t leave you wanting for long, closing the gap between your faces. His lips felt somehow softer than they looked against yours. You part your mouth eagerly and he takes no time to enter your mouth. His tongue expertly licks at yours. You moan desperately into his kiss, grinding your drenched pussy into his half hard cock.

“Please,” you beg him.

He chuckles gently at you. “You’re expecting an old man to fuck like a teenager.”

You let out a huff, wishing you had listened to him.

“I won’t leave you hanging, sweetheart.” He brings his hand down between you, rubbing your clit with his thumb for a moment before pushing two thick fingers into you with ease. “But you gotta get yourself off this time.”

You start slow, dizzy with lust as you move yourself up and down on his fingers. He curls them slightly, hitting your sweet spot perfectly.

“That feel good, baby?” He purrs.

“So good, Daddy,” you answer, quickening your pace and grinding down on his palm.

He brings his free hand up, pulling the straps down on your dress. He ducks his head down and his mouth is at your chest, surely salty from sweat. He licks and kisses over your breasts before dragging his nose up your neck, inhaling your musk.

The simple movement send you that much closer to the edge, the pleasure threatening to bubble over at at moment. You chase your release, bouncing and grinding on Joel’s hand while you think about the orgasm you gave him moments ago. The twisting coil in your center comes free as you cum on his fingers with a loud cry.

“Good girl,” he praises in a strained whisper before planting a warm kiss on your forehead.

You come down from your high with shaky breaths. He takes his fingers away, wiping them on his already ruined pants.

You throw your arms over his shoulders and bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent, trying to burn it into your memory.

He lets you stay that way for a while, running his hand up and down your back.

“Come on, baby,” he murmurs in your ear. “We gotta go.”

You hate that you have to leave. You would sleep at the club if it meant spending more time with Joel. But you relent, climbing off his lap and retrieving your underwear.

Joel is first to exit the room, you follow slowly behind and see him emerge from his office with your bag in his hand. You hold your arm out to take it but he ignores your gesture, carrying it for you as he walks you to your car.

Yours and his are the only two left in the lot, well beyond close.

“Text me when you get home,” he tells you, giving you your bag back.

He pulls his phone out and hands it to you for you to put your number in. You enter it in alongside your real name and save the contact.

“I will,” you promise. “Goodnight, Joel.”

He bids you goodnight with another kiss on the forehead.

It’s late and you are beyond exhausted when you reach your apartment. You pull your phone out and see one new message from an unknown number.

Joel Miller

You smile, and send him a quick text back.

Home.

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