#and I lasted 8 years of back and forth with you wondering EVERY TIME

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 8

Scott Summers + cock cage or other bondage

Do you guys ever wonder what I listen too when I write smut? Lately it’s been system of a down, who’d have thought. This is also the same reader as in this post, cuz I’ve grown attached to him. Also, the fact that he’s as much of a bicycle as Wolverine is funny to me. think of this as a part 2 for that, at least in spirit.

Kinktober 2024 masterlist

Becoming more with Scott honestly didn’t change much with your dynamic. You two were still best friends, the best of bros, as some of the younger mutants liked to say. You two just kissed and were grossly flirty, enough for some of the younger x-men to start gagging loudly whenever you two got too affectionate.

Scott was worse with you than he was with Jean. With Jean there was still some professionalism or privacy when others were around. You had a tendency to grab Scott’s doors and just throw them right off the hinges, so it was no surprise to see you two leaning up against each other and mumbling flirty things back and forth.

That didn’t mean every part of your relationship was public. The mutants able to see through things understood people’s privacy, so the only person you had an inkling who knew what was going on was Logan. And that was only because you two had done it together before. You had not shared that fact with Scott, even though you loved when he got jealous.

But for the most part, nobody realized that Scott had started wearing thin bondage rope or ribbon under his everyday clothes. It was a tad harder to hide under his hero suit, so you guys just stuck to the cage when it came down to that, since you both wore cups during that time anyways.

It hadn’t even been your idea at first. You had maybe planted a few seeds, by mentioning that you knew how to do shibari and bondage, and Scott had stumbled upon your own cage that he hadn’t used in years but still kept around. Warren had some fantasies, alright? And who were you to judge, when he let you run your hands through his feathers when you’d fuck him from behind.

It had taken Scott quite a while to mention how much he actually liked the idea of bondage, shibari or other kinds of being locked up, but by god were you interested in helping him explore that. You two started out light, just tying some ropes around his body to get him used too it. It was hard to be completely immobile when you guys had lives like you did, what if something happened and you needed to suit up as quickly as possible?

But over time, Scott got used to it and wanted more. The moment he mentioned you locking his cock up and wearing the key you almost passed out, so much blood rushing to your second head you almost fell over. Scott knew he didn’t even have to wait for a reply from the way the lightbulb in the lamp started flickering, sparks of electricity popping between your teeth.

The first many times were only in the bedroom, with Scott whining and writhing on the sheets, or humping the mattress or whatever pillow he could find as he just couldn’t get hard, couldn’t get off how he wanted. Instead, all he could do was leak like a broken faucet as you flicked small safe amounts of electricity against his back and shoulders.

Over time Scott got more comfortable, and as someone who had for lack of a better word “been around the block” you let him come to you at his own pace. You knew what you liked, having tried out many things, so now you wanted to help Scott find his. Him asking you to tie him up for everyday use did have you lightheaded again, the bedside lamp actually popping this time, much to your lovers grumbling.

Using the thick sturdy ropes, you used in the bedroom wasn’t the best choice for everyday use, since it would be visible through his polos and jean, so you two settled on a nice sturdy ribbon in your favourite colour. And just to make Scott flush every time he had to go to the bathroom, you tied a nice bow around his caged cock, just because you could.

Scott didn’t last a full day the first time you did it, or the next, or the one after that, but you also knew it was a process and you were more than happy to give him his aftercare and praise. Soon enough though, Scott could go about his natural duties as the leader of the x-men, even with a nice stainless-steel cage wrapped around him, and a rougher but still easy to hide material wrapped around the rest of his body.

Your favourite part though, was still when the day was over, when you two got to cuddle up in bed. Or the times where Scott barely got into your shared room, before his knees buckled under him and he would crawl towards you, wanting so much that he could barely form words. Of course, you had trained him better, so you never did anything without his asking.

On days like this you got him tied up nicely, you had even brought up the idea of kink tape a few times, just to see him twitch and writhe in want. You didn’t feel daring enough to bring up those videos you’d seen of men completely taped up or hanging from the ceiling, not yet at least. You did have a gut feeling that Scott was watching the same stuff though, having seen his attention linger longer on thumbnails to those videos than others, when you two got off together.

It became quite common for you to not get off, at least when Scott got like this. Just seeing how much of a mess he turned into was satisfying enough, and after you had completely wrung him dry you were more focused on his aftercare. You two had both become experts on what to do and check for after having scenes together, since Scott was more turned on by being electrocuted than you had imagined he would be.

The only reason you even did it was because of how ingrained electricity was in your body, and how much expertise you had with it, if it had been dangerous then you would have rather died. Seeing Scott in nothing but his shiny steel cage and ropes did have you feeling less collected than you were used too, leaving you with the feeling that he was doing it on purpose sometimes.

Though, your all-time favourite had to be when Scott was nice and tied up, so you could tongue at his torso and cage as much as you wanted, letting small snaps of electricity strike from your tongue against his pecs, or his cock. It was never enough to hurt, but just enough for Scott to give a jump and needy howl, wail, or whimper, depending on where he was at mentally.

The aftercare was as satisfying too, Scott cuddling up against your chest as you rubbed him down, small disapproving whimpers leaving him when you slide his cage off. You always have to shush him, clarifying that you’ll put it back on, after making sure everything was okay. Scott always pouted a little, but cuddled back against you like the good boy he was. And thankfully you’d gotten smart enough to stock up on lightbulbs, and get him so fucked out he forgot you’d broken the last ones.

[justbelievinginmagic]

like a waltz⎯ part 2: fondu.

pairing(s): ateez ot8 x fem!reader; this chapter is heavily wooyoung x reader focused with a bit of san x reader & yeosang x reader! series summary: when 8 mysterious bachelors arrive to town and fall for your charms, will you be able to reach your goal to be prima ballerina or be dragged into a selfish waltz between love and obsession? glimpse: wooyoung and you dance around one another for a month - will he commit to being your patron or will it all be a fun game for the mysterious stranger? somewhere in the distant future, you wake up. warnings/tags: inspired by Ateez’s Ice on my Teeth MV & Teasers, Mafia AU, Ballet AU, early 1900’s AU with some divergences in tech advancements (i.e if i think itd be cool to include, this world has it earlier than irl), 3rd person POV, use of YN, mxm, polyteez, MATURE topics, allusions to sex work in ballet, allusions to exploitation in ballet, implied sexual themes (not really for reader x ateez), strong language, ballet lore, angst, fluff, flirting, suggestive topics, lies, manipulation, wooyoung is a sweet gentleman, medical drugs, traumatic foot injury, unequal power dynamics, injuries, alcohol mention, reader discretion advised, +18 readers only. let me know if there are any more tags i should add. a/n: hi! i'm not completely happy with this chapter (mostly the ending) but it has doubled in word count so I thought itd be good enough lol. i love woo in this fic, he's sweet and flirty. he is the glue for the entire polyteez x reader later on. let me know what you thought of this chapter plssss. next chapter will probably have yunho x reader :) word count: 11k first chapter <- -> next chapter series masterlist

fondu; french pronunciation: [fawn-DEW]; sinking down, melting.

That wasn’t the last time she saw Wooyoung in the ballet boudoir. No, for the next seven days, he was there for every show whether it was a matinee or evening performance. He’d be there, sitting in his box - the cursed box number eight – dressed to the nines. She swore his eyes only watched her when she was performing; it felt like her own shining spotlight, chasing after her back and forth, back and forth, back and forth across the stage. It felt electric as she took glances up at his box to see his curled lips and opera glasses peering down at her. YN didn’t wonder where he looked when she was in the wings, because no matter what he’d visit her.

Her.

Not the other girls.

Not the Prima Ballerina.

Her.

During intermission and after the show, he’d be waiting beside the small vanity (the one she shared with four other ensemble members.) Never did his gaze stray to the other girls – and some tried to tempt. He was one of the most attractive men they’ve had in a long time, and the air of mystery he held was intoxicating. A viable bachelor, a way to climb. Ballerinas were hard-workers after all; they loved and knew the long game.

They’d swish past him in their enticing leotards, skin-tight with no tutu to complete their look. They would bare their neck as they gathered their long hair into a bun. Glance at him through their lashes as they stretched.

Still, he waited patiently, arms crossed as he leaned back against the white vanity’s desk. His brooding eyes zeroed in on the boudoir’s doors. Only when he caught her in his sight did he light up like a firework across the night sky.

“Hello swanette,” he’d coo out with the sweetest grin, hand outstretched to her.

“Hello Wooyoung,” it felt dangerous to call him by his first name, intimate. None of the others ballerinas called their patron by their first name – even the ones fucking one another.

YN wasn’t stupid or oblivious. She knew what this was – what this could end up being. She’d watch the prima ballerina, the principal dancers, really all of the rising starlets of the ballet over the years. They all covered their kiss-bruised skin with make-up, tugged on thick nylon tights that would hide their patron’s affections from audience’s view. She wasn’t sure if she wanted that – even with Wooyoung’s handsomeness. In some ways, her pride bit at the thought with rabid hatred; sourness on her tongue at the thought of not truly being different, not truly earning her way to the top.

Regardless of her conflicted feelings, Wooyoung hadn’t hinted at any of that – even after a week. He hadn’t provided monetary aid either so perhaps he was waiting. A bittered part of YN never understood patrons who didn’t sleep with their proteges. (But then again, it was rare to begin with. She hadn’t met one prima ballerina, one feature dancer who hadn’t slept with their patron.) She was always half-expecting him to let his hands dip lower and lower or high and higher, but, to her surprise, they remained fairly decent. He liked grabbing her waist, his thumb would rub circles over the boning over her bodice but it’d stay relatively far from anything intimate. (Any touch from a man in the public society was intimate though. She still flushed and felt the rush of feelings she didn’t quite understand how to place.) In her mind, he had yet to make a move.

Not even a cheeky kiss.

…

It was nice.

He was nice. She could sometimes forget that he paid to sit and talk to her in-between dances. He smelt nice; he looked nice; he acted nice. The fancy-free touches he gave with little thought were something she could enjoy considering the worser options. (Julia had covered up a nasty bite mark on her collarbone the other night.)

Wooyoung and her would speak of nonsense most nights – idle gossip, comments about the show, the dancers, the town-folk, and the bourgeoise that sat in the seats of the theatre. Who’s who in this town? He’d wonder, and she’s point them out under her breath; the men of the high-class with their wandering eyes and their wandering hands all over their own ballerina. Far cruder touches than Wooyoung’s reverent gentleness as he leaned close into her bubble to hear her whispers.

“That man is the owner of the factories popping up across the port,” she’d tell him, pointing with a lithe finger. (Luckily, all the men had one thing in common; they’d never glance upon another patron’s ballerina; they’d never look their way as long as Wooyoung remained distant.)

“Shohei Takahashi.” YN said, watching as the rich factory-owner pressed a greedy kiss to the mouth of the ballerina of his choice. “Huge factories with little pay. I blame the winter gloom on him.”

Shifting her gaze, Wooyoung followed her eyeline easily as he raised his drink to his mouth.

“That’s Lord Frederickson; he’s the biggest importer of goods. Owns the port and its processing factories. Anything coming in and out goes through him. He’s favored by the King – if you believe the King still has a say around these parts.” Wooyoung smirked at that as he watched her jump to the next.

“Kim Dohyun – big shot in the banks,” she said. “I think he’s trying to start a monopoly, but what do I know?”

“A lot,” Wooyoung replied, quickly, before taking a swig of his drink. His dark eyes slid over each man with a snake’s laziness before he locked his attention on her. “Brilliance and beauty.”

“Charmer.” She teased.

“Only for you.”

He’d flatter, flirt, and call her all sorts of sweet names. Beautiful, swanette, little swan, pretty swan, pretty.

-

The ballet was good for two things – pretty art and petty gossip. And despite her claiming she was an artist, first and foremost, she liked gossip just like anyone else. She was used to listening in, eavesdropping, or being told the news by the youngers. It wasn’t often she was the one gossiping.

“C’mon, he didn’t comment at all about Wooyoung?” YN asked one of the older ballerinas before a show.

“No, YN. He didn’t.”

It was a snap of an answer, but she couldn’t blame her. It was the third time she had asked. (Tiny had gotten her habits from someone after all.)

“I heard from someone that he was, like, like, a runaway prince,” said a younger girl, sighing out as she clung to the barre. “He’s as handsome as one.”

“Princes don’t run to Cromer,” Julia commented, tying her hair into a bun.

“But Lords do?” Everly snorted.

“Ha-ha-ha,” she sarcasmed out. “At least I’m getting my costume paid for next season,” Julia countered, tossing a sweater towards the other girl.

“So, none of the other patrons know him?” YN tried again, falling into a full stretch in frustration. Hunched over, she huffed.

“Nope – could be a traveler. You haven’t asked him?” Mina retorted.

YN struck a nasty face at that, scrunching up her nose. As if. Of course she has. All she had gotten was basics. He was from Aurora. He was in town for a while. That’s all she ever got from him.

Did he like the show? Of course, you were in it.

How was his day? Better now that he was here.

How was his stay in Cromer? Was it always this cold? He was too used to Aurora’s temperatures; he missed the bright sun and humidity.

What did he do for a living? Charm you.

It was like a game of chess, trying to get actual answers out of him. If he wasn’t so fun to talk to about other things, she’d be frustrated. Or more frustrated. After all, Wooyoung wasn’t like the other men in town – he was new and exciting. Despite all his mystery, despite the tell-tale hints of tragedy as a protégé and patron, she couldn’t help but begin to fall for the bright smile that greeted her at intermission.

-

It had been two weeks. He’s slowed his attendance to only every other night, warning her that he had other business to attend to on certain days. But he’d still hover around her vanity when he did show. He’d gotten more nosy she noticed. Not in a bad way. Fingers prodded at the make-up containers; he’d peer into her bag, spotting her folded clothes and sometimes a book or two in it. She noticed from the corner of her eye as she’d get ready for the next act, shimming into another feathered costume.

He’d lean on the edge of the vanity, giving her more room than usual and talking but not saying much and always, always, averting his eyes. It made a warmth bubble in her chest. Respect. He respected her. It was rare here. In under a few seconds, she had the new bodice on, snapped and tied with ease. Her skirt shimmied on and fluffed.

“Decent, little swan?” he queried, eyes still facing towards the ceiling.

With a true smile, she’d nod. Tonight, with affection bubbling in her chest, she reached out to cup his chin with gentle fingers and guide his face down to meet her gaze. His skin felt electric-hot beneath her fingertips like the hum of new-powered light bulbs at the cinema.

“Hello pretty,” he crooned. A tempting smile crossed his face as he shifted forward at her guidance. His fingers pressed against the vanity shifted to land on her waist. He liked the way the feathers felt, the beads he could fiddle with, and the warmth radiating from her.

“Spin for me?” he encouraged.

She held back an eye roll of fondness; when had she grown so fond?; he had seen this costume far too many times, but each time he had her spin about, and he’d grin and flatter and flirt. And she’d flush and flutter.

As she twirled, his fingers barely left her waist, feeling the fabric, feathers and beading twist and tug at him with her movement. He wished her hair would be out of the perfect tight bun, so it’d flow down freely. But Wooyoung didnt encourage such a thought – he was a reasonable man. For now.

“Beautiful,” he complimented, tugging her by her waist to stand in between his legs.

His fine velvet pants brushed against her nylon-tight clad legs. His fingers fiddled over her waist, dancing across beads and sequins, handsewn and delicate. Just like every night. He didn’t climb higher or lower, simply thrummed his fingers across her mid-section as he smiled at her pleasantly. 

“She makes it, you know,” there was an exclamation from a local eavesdropper, Tiny.

The youngster grinned over at Wooyoung from her spot, warming up on the floor. The little girl was cute in the eyes of Wooyoung; the tiny ballerina flashed him an innocent smile even when YN glared at the younger with a clear look of ‘shut up.’

“Makes what, kid?” he queried, glancing her way.

“Her costumes! We all do – or well, we all pay for them. Not YN though! She sews ‘em; all of hers are made by her!”

“Tiny,” YN tried to hush, but Wooyoung squeezed her waist playfully firm.

“Really?”

His tone was melodic as his gaze trailed from the tips of YN’s ballet shoes over her long-toned legs clad in white stockings with the smallest of rhinestones sewn into the fabric… over the white tutu before trailing around her bejeweled waist of beads, false pearls, and feathers. The feathers curved around her, hugging her chest. Everything was tied together with the pretty white-feathered clips in her hair. Everything looked exquisite.  

“You never told me that,” Wooyoung commented. He pouted at her.

That wasn’t the reaction she expected. Surprise, yes. Perhaps pity? Perhaps disgust? She couldn’t afford a seamstress after all. It was embarrassing.

“You never asked,” YN retorted.

He smirked, a rumble of a pleased laugh bubbling in his chest.

“I guess I hadn’t,” he admitted.

Had he asked anything about her… other than her dancing talent and the daily gossip of the theatrical world? He tilted his head as he took her in again. How much did she know about him?

Some questions he answered; others he twisted words until they were onto another conversation. His questions remained on her work. How long had she been in the ballet? How did a beautiful talented woman not have a starring role? Did she like it here? Did she like him?

Their conversations always ended back to that. More times than not she thought he was playing her like a cat would play with a mouse. While he paid for entrance to the foyer de la danse, like most of her suitors, he had not taken her up as a protégé. Most of the girls who had a patron reassured her that it took time. Some had to fall to their knees first before he agreed.

So, now when his head tilted as he examined her, it felt like the air changed. Ever magnetic but something deeper as his finger picked at a bead with his fingernail.

“You made this?” he asked again, fingering at the beadwork.

Its intricate pattern caught the light on stage beautifully, but he never noticed it made a pattern of a lily pad, ‘til now.

“Yes,” she said, shivering as his touch tickled her ribs.

He noticed her glancing aside, almost shy.

“What other talents do you have, swanette?” He queried, voice low.

“Far too many,” she teased before she escaped his grasp to go towards the now empty-vanity.

Tease them, the older ballerinas had advised. They like a chase, just be sure to let them catch you every now and then. Julia had told her.

There was the stain from their first meeting. A remnant of his rouge-covered fingers in the fine-wood of the ivory vanity. It never seemed to leave despite her scrubbing. Her finger brushed over it on its way to pick up a powder puff to press it into her skin. Wooyoung’s fingers trailed over her arm, looking over her shoulder in the mirror.

“You surprise me,” he admitted. “You know my hyungs love fashion – they’d love to meet you.”

“You don’t know my fashion-taste, Mr. Jung,” she told him, raising a brow. “Just my costumier’s taste.”

“Oh, Mr. Jung, hm,” he repeated in a tut. His chin pressed into her shoulder, face tilting ‘til his lips nearly pressed against her skin. Hot breath fanned over her shoulder down her chest. Gooseflesh tickled up her spin.

“Did I upset you?” he teased before whispering in her ear. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask about your pretty costume.”

She snorted, a bit unlady-like but it made his own lips twitch into a smile. He liked her smiling.

“It’s okay, Wooyoung,” she replied simply. “I didn’t expect you to.”

This wasn’t what the patrons wanted to talk about. Men never spoke of such things.

“I should’ve,” he corrected her. “I want to know about you.”

The air burned for a moment between them, his dark eyes settled on her in the mirror with the pull that only gravity had on someone. There was more here. In these moments, it didn’t feel like a game or an agreement or a partnership of exchange. Not when he looked at her like that.

“So, you sew?” he asked, still closer than acceptable for their society. Pressed into her back, his arms trapping her in. He urged her to lean into him, his chest broad against her back.

“My mother is a seamstress – was. She’s now in a factory rather than an independent shop.” She admitted. “I learned from her.”

“What about your dad?” he asked.

She shook her head before going to pressing powder into her skin with a puff. He huffed a bit as the perfumed thing invaded his nose.

“Not around anymore.”

“What did he do? Did he leave some coin around for you and your ma’?” he asked.

YN sighed out, reaching for the rouge pot next. “Miner. There used to be diamond and gold mines outside of town. I mean, there still are, but they aren’t like they were before. He never found anything worth anything – and when there was a cave in,” she sighed again. “My mother had always provided more; he didn’t leave much. Except me…”

Wooyoung’s hand soothed up and down her arm

“I can’t remember my ‘ma or ‘pa. Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t define me. Don’t know much about them - if they sewed or worked at all. I just knew I had to work to survive.” He stated casually. “But Hongjoong, he’s like my brother - he sews in his free time. He’s made all sorts of things for us. So, I know a bit about that.”

Us… it was the first time Wooyoung had mentioned others. This was the first time she had learned anything about the mysterious man. YN itched to ask more about who us were, more about Hongjoong, more about what he had done growing up. How did he end up here, dripping in enough coin to go to countless shows, countless ballet boudoir meetings. But she didn’t know if she could. She didn’t want to pressure him. Push him.

“Maybe I’ll meet him one day?” she instead led, following his thought from moments ago. “Hongjoong and your hyungs?” she added. C’mon, tell me more, tell me more.

Wooyoung smiled bright, almost excitedly before his face fell dramatically. He was prone to that she’d noticed, ever expressive despite the stony gaze that fell over him when he didn’t know she was looking. His grin tumbled into a pout, big lips pressing out and puppy dog eyes gleaming in the gas-light.

He held her closer. “Not yet. I like having you to myself. They love the ballet – they’d love you.”

They. Us. Again, he spoke of others.

Who were they?

They’d love her?

-

In the third week, Wooyoung offered to buy her drinks from the Opera House’s bar, and she always refused. She didn’t want to fall into his arms intoxicated – especially with her aching muscles already. Alcohol wouldn’t help recovery. Instead, he made a game of bringing back a sweet from the concessions. Ones that the kids in the audience would nibble on. It’d always be half-eaten by the time he joined her in the boudoir – which made her smile. It felt intimate as she snacked on the other half of a cookie or taffy after the show. She’d sit on top of the vanity as he watched her eat.

It was during these times they began to talk about what they liked. Sweet or sour? Spicy or mild? What’s your favorite color? Hot or cold? What’s your favorite food? Favorite season? Favorite song?

She learned a lot about him. And he was sweet. His answers were sentimental as he yapped and yapped.

“I like seafood more than anything,” he said in between bites of the cookie she shared with him.

The boudoir was growing colder; the radiator had been turned off for the night. The hallway outside of the room was dim. She was in her own clothes for the first time; her costume hung in the costumier’s closet. Her worn-brown jacket was drawn tight as she and him sat on the vanity.

“Meat over vegetables for sure. But, any stew needs to have vegetables to feel right. But shrimp, mussels, clams, oh, tofu is needed too! Seonghwa makes the best stew – it reminds me of Aurora.”

He could ramble on and on, and YN didn’t mind it was so late as she made mental notes. Not just of the names he’d drop every now and then but his favorites. His preferences. She’d think about it as she made her own meals late at night – while she stood in front of the stove and stirred her potatoes and gravy. Was Aurora seafood better than Cromer’s? She’s only ever had the smallest of fish if they could afford one.

They were the last to leave the opera house that night, practically kicked out by the Madame who insisted upon the time. The moon hung high above them as they walked onto the main street of Cromer. The streetlights were lit; some flickered in the cold air; after all, not all lamps were gas yet. The cobblestones were wet with rain from earlier in the night.

“Let me walk you home?” Wooyoung asked. He was haloed in a gentle lamplight. His cheeks were round from eating the last of their shared treat and his eyes almost sparkled.

She swallowed. Don’t let them into your house; their house is the only fair game. She had heard the ballerinas warn her. Some even insisted on not letting them take you anywhere beyond the Opera House’s porch. There were plenty of spare rooms, they said.

Wooyoung was able to read her easier by the day.

“It’s late, YN. Please.” He insisted. “I’m a gentleman.”

His arm was offered, politely.

It was cold; rain was clinging to the clouds, tempting to pour.

He gave her another look, half-stern… half bratty? Wooyoung nudged his arm again in her direction.

“O—kay,” she conceded after a moment, taking his arm. He was warm against the cold.

But that was just Wooyoung after all.

-

“I saw YN walking home with her patron!” The gossip was electric the next morning.

“They’re in love,” Tiny swooned.

“They don’t know each other!” Another chimed.

“Did you—” there was a question on the tip of their tongues.

“Was he-“

“Had they-“

“No, no; he was a perfect gentleman,” YN reassured. “He stayed on the street as I entered my apartment. My mother had been watching from the windowsill. He simply waved and was off.”

Some of the ballerinas hummed their relief; others huffed their discontent.

“He’ll declare his patronage any day,” Julia whispered to her. “He has to.”

-

On the next Saturday, Wooyoung had ‘snuck’ in before the show. It was not often a patron was allowed before the show – it wasn’t as ‘exciting’ as intermission or after the show. The girls would be in their own clothes, usually warming up or trying to stay warm in the chilly room. His cheeks were flushed from the falling snow; he looked youthful as he bounded up to her, surprising her. Cold hands grasped hers as he spun her about.

Her hair was down. Her costume on, but her feet were in thick wool socks, and her face bare of makeup. It was a surprise he was here, and she felt the flare of insecurity, of worry, flush over her. He hadn’t seen her not so imperfect. Ballerinas were meant to be perfect. Wooyoung didn’t seem concerned as he lifted her into his arms to twirl her again as he chuckled and giggled. He sounded a bit like a hyena but it only made contagious giggles tumble from her own lips.

“Wooyoung,” she giggled nervously as he whirled them about.

All eyes watched her and him; some girls whispered in each other’s ears.

“Happy anniversary, pretty swan,” he chimed out as he finally set her back on the ground.

He looked at her with such innocent joy. His hands shifted from her form to cup her jaw and squeeze her cheeks. Over the past few weeks, his touchiness had grown. His favorite was to do just this, squish her cheeks fondly.

Dark eyes stroked over her features; her cheeks were pink beneath his fingers. Her eyes were bare of charcoal. Her lips were a nude shade. He noticed that despite his cold hands from the wintery outside that she was equally chilly… the entire boudoir felt cold at this time actually. A miniscule purse of his brow crinkled his forehead.

“Anniversary?” YN queried, raising a brow. Her hand rose to stroke the back of his hand softly, her blunt nails circling his skin.

The butterflies fluttered in her ribs, nibbling at her bones warningly. He was celebrating their anniversary? Had any patron done that? She’d have to ask the others.

He looked almost annoyed as if shocked she’d forget the day they met. The glower on his brow was handsome and statuesque before he frowned at her seriously. Her blood felt like fire, then; the skin on the back of her neck turned a clammy hot.

“It’s been a month,” he said, the words not as strict as his face. Instead, it sounded like a reprimanded child’s voice.

“Oh! I know that; I didn’t know you’d celebrate it,” she admitted, warm eared.

And she did. She hadn’t had a patron-suitor this long before but she kept count of the days. Noting them down with precision as she did with everything in her life.

He huffed; perfectly gelled hair fluttering with the action. Grumbling under his breath childishly of this and that, he took a too-close step into their embrace. His leg found a way between hers. He was so warm despite the melting snow on his outer coat.

“Of course I would,” he grumbled, thumbs going over the apples of her cheeks. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. I do like it! I assume you’d-”

He was babbling at this point, grumbling about this and that quickly. She giggled, and his frustrations eased at its sound.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, hand squeezing one of his hands gently. “I’ve liked getting to know you, too.”

And she had gotten to know him… somewhat. His favorite foods, books, art, and whatnot. She knew that he had moved here over the past month, that he liked the ballet but loved theatre more. Singing was his favorite thing. He had money. He had asked her far more about herself. He knew she’d lived here her entire life, practiced at the company for nearly just as long as she’s breathed. He knew about her family and her mother’s-tired rants after a day at the factory. He knew what treat she favored; he knew that she got cold easily. He still felt like a stranger despite their closeness. Like all she saw was what he wanted her to.

“Of course, you have,” he preened before stepping back.

His hands left her cheeks to present a small velveteen gift box, almost magically.

“Now, accept my gift, pretty.”

She awed at it, insisting he didn’t need to while equally feeling chuffed that he got her something. It was a small box, and her mind raced to think of what could be within. Jewels, diamonds, perhaps it was just a trick… or a treat. Whatever it was she felt a hum of excitement. With a fond look at him, she took the box and opened it.

A pretty pearl necklace rested on a crushed-velveteen cushion. Polished silver-white pearls. She had never had pearls before. Never seen them so up close. Only replica pearls made of melted plastic were what she knew. These had a different sheen, a prettiness to them that felt ethereal.

Pearls were expensive; pearls are things upper-class women wore in multiple loops across their bared throats to tempt their partners to glance down at their bosom. They are status-symbols. She would’ve never been able to afford these – not even just one pearl. Meanwhile, he had bought her a long, long strand, long enough she could wear it in multiple loops. They glimmered and shined in the lamp-light as she carefully reached out to graze their pearlescent surfaces.

“Woo,” she breathed out. “They’re beautiful.”

She hadn’t expected this sort of gift – especially after how little monetary incentive came from him. Her eyes rose from the gift to meet his eyes. They were watching her face with tenderness. His smile curled on his lips, and he couldn’t help the rumble of a fond chuckle from bubbling up in his chest.

“To match you,” he said, easily, before his fingers grazed hers to lift the necklace. “Turn around, baby.”

Baby… he hadn’t called her that yet – just as she hadn’t ever called him Woo. He noticed that and couldn’t help the thrum of excitement, puppy love, adoration, whatever you call it, go through his veins.

YN did turn. Her hair was pushed aside by now-warm hands. Frowning, he felt how icy her skin was; she shivered as the pearls caressed her bare skin. Carefully, he clasped the pearls about her throat ‘til they rested across her decolletage in a double string of pearls.

She stared into the vanity’s mirror. Wooyoung smiled over her shoulder, content as a cat as he watched her admire herself. He sighed, fingers rearranging her hair to rest around her attractively. His fingertips grazed her hair for the first time, fondly, and playfully as he tousled her strands. His hands landed on her shoulders; she was cold, cold, cold. His hands slid from her shoulders to her biceps slow.

“So beautiful,” he sighed. “The necklace looks good, too,” he teased as an afterword, close to her ear.

Her cheeks flushed. A hand rose to stroke over the gift admiringly.

“It is pretty, thank you,” she turned around in his embrace, his hands sliding over her shoulders as she did so. He cornered her to the table. Her hands rested on his forearms, thumb brushing over his coat. She wiped away at some fallen snow, melting on the rich fabric. Glancing up with a genuine smile, she asked him: “What shall I gift you?”

He hummed low. Fingers slid up her arms slowly, eyes grazing over her face thoughtfully. Before he proceeded to unbutton his fine-woven coat-jacket. Her breath caught. What was he doing? Her eyes flickered from him to the room around them. Many of the girls were watching them brazenly. Some with lovestruck eyes as if witnessing some penny film in the nickelodeon; some were looking with jealous-ridden eyes.

She licked her lips, a flash nervous as he shook off his jacket with ease to reveal a fine silk tunic. It was a dark color; she realized he had worn nothing but black each night. Like a night sky shining with starlit clouds, the fabrics clung to his frame temptingly. She glanced up to his face as he swooshed his jacket over her bared shoulders. 

It engulfed her in warmth, his warmth. The intoxicating smell she had begun to recognize as Wooyoung smothered her. The deep spiced-floral cologne filled her senses of him, him, him.

She couldn’t help but let out a jittery breath, not expecting this from him as he smiled down at her, satisfied. He didn’t do much more. She wasn’t sure what she was worried he was going to do in first place.

“Wear them for me during the performance?” he requested.

YN shifted her arms, a hand raising to touch the pearls around her throat again before her other hand rose to catch the coat from slipping off her shoulders. His own hands rose to rearrange the jacket over her, rubbing her arms up and down slowly.

That was all he asked for? Even now, she knew other patrons would request far more. A kiss even wouldn’t have surprised her to be honest – he could’ve stolen one from her lips and not a person would’ve batted an eye in the boudoir. Instead, he warmed her, thumb grazing up and down her now-jacketed arm.

“I will,” she acquiesced. “The Madame might be upset at the costume violation,” she teased lightly. “But, I will do it for you.”

He laughed, the thing a crow-like tone. He hadn’t shifted from her, hands rubbing up and down still. “If she does, I’ll handle it. A pretty girl like you deserves pretty things. And to show off those pretty things.”

She smiled at him. She shocked herself as she rose up onto the tips of her toes, easily with her experience on-pointe, and pressed a sweet fleeting kiss to his cheek. She could smell his after-shave; his skin was soft and warm and inviting before she pulled away to smile up at him.

“Happy month of knowing you, Wooyoung.”

“Here’s to many more,” he smiled warmly.

-

The pearls clung to her neck tightly, tighter than how Wooyoung had clasped them. They needed to be so they wouldn’t clank and clink into her face with each pirouette and jete. She stood out in the ensemble with the pearls gleaming on her throat. No other ballerina bore real pearls except her. No one – not even Odette. And for once, she felt the eyes of the crowd on her. There was a murmur in the crowd; some pointed. But all she could do was search for Wooyoung’s eyes. 

She had a bad habit of looking up at Box 8 in general now. Her gaze would flicker up and up, head tilting as she snuck small glances towards the private box Wooyoung had claimed. Usually, she’d catch his eyes, staring at her solely and smiling a small smirk in the shadows of the theatre.

But it wasn’t just him today. In the shadows of the theatre, she could see his familiar form, his opera glasses glinting in the low gas light of the grand chandelier. But behind him, dark blurs of shades, were other figures. She squinted.

It shocked her at first, doing a double take as she performed a jete.

What? Who?

There were others with him; he turned to say something to the one beside him.

It surprised her that she knew the form of him so well to know even in darkness and distance that he sat in the front. But she knew in her core as the figure turned back to look at the stage. Wooyoung sat in the front in his usual spot. A figure sat beside him, shadowed in a brimmed hat. And one, or was it two, figures shifted behind him.

When she left the stage, she remained waiting in the wings, peering and squinting at his box.

“He has guests,” an older ballerina whispered in her ear, startling her.

“Is there a woman?” she whispered back, trying to get a good sense of the forms.

It looked like ghosts behind him, two…or maybe three shifting figures. She saw one lean forward and cup a large looking hand against Wooyoung’s ear. Glinting rings winked at her, taunting her as fingers hid the stranger’s face from view.

“That one looks like a man,” the same ballerina advised to her.

They both squinted as a reflection from the Odette’s glamourized costume glared into their eyes. Looking away, YN rubbed her eyes before looking back at the box. It looked like only three figures now.

“What of the other… others?” she asked.

“I can’t see.”

“Neither can I.”

All she knew was Wooyoung was not alone.

-

She tried asking about as they waited for the next cue – was there men? Was there women? What can you see? But when they crept onstage once more for their small promenade across the stage as a ‘flock’ of swans, her stomach dropped.

Box 8 was empty.

-

He didn’t come visit during intermission, and she felt uneasy. Had he left? Why? A childish part of her cried out it was their anniversary. Her fingers fiddled with her pearls. The Madame glared at her addition as she passed the large open doors of the boudoir but said nothing.

-

He didn’t come after the show either.

-

When she crept out of the Opera House, her pearls were hidden beneath a coat. And there was no sight of Wooyoung outside. A fragile thing in her heart peeked out and she swallowed down the disappointment as she began her walk home in the cold snow.

Why had he left? He left mid-show with his friends? It burned despite the chill.

-

The next day, YN felt nerves eating up her stomach. She was a creature of habit, a person of rehearsals and repetition. Why hadn’t he shown? Why did he leave? Was he unhappy she hadn’t gotten him something? Was it due to the kiss? Was she too forward? Was he unhappy with her? He had never not shown up to the boudoir after a show. He had never left during a show, and he’d seen the show countless times now.

YN had arrived early to the boudoir, hoping to practice away her worries. Clad in her warmest clothes, she began to warm up on the floor.  She only got so far when she heard a voice.

“YN!”

It was Tiny. Her footsteps were a flurry of tip-tap-tapping as she rushed towards her. “YN!”

The little one hadn’t changed into her costume yet, wearing a dark brown skirt and matching orange blouse. A hooded cape kept her warm.

“He’s one of the new bachelors! He’s one of the bachelors!” the young girl cried out in excitement as she charged into the room. Her giggles were light and fluttery as she bounced on her toes. “The ones who have taken over the Ateez Mansion. He’s one of them! He’s one of them!”

“What?” She paused in her movements.

“Your patron! Your patron! It’s in the paper! Remember his box had more folk last night, right? It was the other bachelors!” she squealed. “I heard from the newsie! ‘Kim Yeosang, the finest tennis player this side of the Atiny Sea, spotted at the grand Cromer Opera House last night accompanied by frequent ballet goer Kim Wooyoung and others. This is the athlete’s first public appearance in Cromer since his move into the famed Ateez Mansion.’”

“Kim?” she queried.

Wooyoung had introduced himself by Jung Wooyoung.

“Maybe they’re brothers!” Tiny exclaimed. “An athlete, YN! He must be fit. And handsome!”

“And rich,” another ballerina commented from across the boudoir.

YN was still confused. “He’s never mentioned brothers – I mean, he mentioned he had friends that were like his brothers. But the only name I’ve heard has been Hongjoong… Seonghwa.”

Tiny repeated the names curiously. “I didn’t hear the newsies say those names. Just Yeosang and Wooyoung! Maybe it’s in the paper. Do you have 5 coins?”

5 coins! It made her splutter. When did she have money to toss at papers?

“No,” she laughed.

“Well, I just thought with the necklace and all – he hasn’t paid anything?” Tiny gossiped.

Her cheeks flushed as she shoved the tiny ballerina away. “Not yet.”

Her hand self-consciously fiddled with the pearl necklace. Kim Wooyoung. It felt weird to think rather than Jung Wooyoung. And, Kim Yeosang, she wondered. She hadn’t heard the name but she wasn’t privy to most sports. Who had time for sportly leisure in this age – especially as a trained ballerina? But a world-known tennis player… it made sense how he’d have money. Why move here? Sure, it was a major port, crawling with trade, but it was just Cromer.

Hongjoong. Seonghwa Yeosang. Wooyoung.

Who were they to Wooyoung?

Were they here last night? Were they the reason he left without even a note of warning?

-

That night he didn’t appear in his box. There was gossip amongst the girls.

“Maybe it was too good to be true.” A dancer taunted

YN. Jealous and envy were bitter dregs of ballet society.

She found herself playing with his necklace more and more.

-

“Miss YN, if you continue to fiddle with that god-forsaken necklace on stage, I’ll rip it off your neck myself.” The Madame croaked, her cane thudding against the floor during their debrief of the latest performance.

“Sorry,” YN managed to get out.

“Sorry doesn’t fix mistakes. Which you’ve been making. Your pirouettes were sloppy all evening; improve or else I shall remove you from the scene.” Her words went in one ear and out the other. Like they had all night. She was just in her head.

She had thought it was different between them – why had he given the cold shoulder? Was it the cold shoulder? She wasn’t sure. Weren’t things fine between them? He had gifted her pearls for goodness sake.

When had she begun to care about the relationship? YN had never cared for her patron-suitors but… she did like Wooyoung. Had she disappointed him? Had his guests warned him away?

She licked her lips, barely hearing the criticism pouring out of the mouth of the Madame of the Opera House.

-

The next day at intermission, there was a white-papered note on her vanity. Bounding up to it excitedly, hope in her stomach, she unfolded it to reveal the too-neat cursive script of the Madame.

‘Remove the necklace or face a fee for costume violations.’

Her necklace was gone the next act. She couldn’t face any more costs.

-

It was two weeks before she’d see Wooyoung again.

When he did return to the Opera House, it was done in a Wooyoung style. Rather than waiting until intermission, he strode through the boudoir’s door with the confidence of someone who owned the place like he had on their ‘anniversary’. YN was by the vanity per usual; make up caked on her face and her neck bare.

“Hello, pretty swanette,” he greeted, his arms wrapping around her waist in an embrace. The scent of him hit her like a train – she hadn’t realized she missed it. Missed him. Her jaw tightened in annoyance.

No, she didn’t want to miss him. He was the one disappearing like a ghost. No wonder he stayed at the Ateez Mansion; he fits right in with the phantom stories there. Her lips were stern as she painted on her rouge with a fine-precision brush. She tried to not to make eye contact with him, tried to not to seek out what he looked like tonight. Were his cheeks rose-flushed from the cold? Was he wearing the silken tunic or a warmer velvet?

“Swanette,” he repeated, shifting her in his arms. Swaying her softly.

Her head tilted; her face twitched as she placed the brush down and grabbed the coal-eyeliner pot.

“Oooh,” Wooyoung cooed out. Minty breath fanned over her neck. “You missed me.”

His voice wasn’t pleading or angry or upset. In fact, it was almost giddy. He took pleasure in her displeasure. It wasn’t like she was giving him attention – or perhaps the lack of attention was so obvious, it was simply attention all over again. Intentionally ignoring someone meant they were on your mind. He was on her mind. She wondered for a moment was he like her – searching for the spotlight.

She finished applying her eyeliner as she felt his lips almost touch her bared shoulder. Her jitter was clear and he chuckled. Dark eyes watched from over her shoulder.

“Your necklace is gone.” He commented, pouting. Long fingers tickled at her neck, as if the pearls were simply invisible around the column of it.

No reply as she placed the make-up down, shifting in his tight embrace but never leaving it, never breaking the bond of his arm around her midsection. He smiled at that. So, for a moment, he simply laid his chin on her shoulder – waiting. He was an optimistic man and, even if she was frustrated, she didn’t pull away from him.

“Your left brow twitches,” he noted casually after a while, making her brow furrow.

“When you’re angry.” He clarified.

“How do you know that?” she countered, breaking her silence with a bite.

He smiled at her words. He got her to talk.

“I know you, swanette – which is how I know you are upset with me. I’m sorry I was gone.” He apologized.

She swallowed and glanced to the side. It was silly to be angry at him. He’s just--- a man. A rich boy with too much money to flaunt. This entire situation was stupid. She never pined after a man, after a stupid patron, too. She focused on her work not men. When had seeing him made her so… excited? And when had not seeing him ruin her day?

His pout came into view as he reached out to tip her chin his way.

“What else, hm?” he urged, thumb petting at her chin. “I was gone for days unannounced but what else could be making you distant?” He sighed, searching her eyes. “Was your necklace not pretty enough? Were the girls cruel? Were-“

“You had guests that Saturday.”

His eyes sparkled at that almost like the gleam of ice in a whiskey glass. He smirked. “Yes, I wanted them to see you.”

“They - you didn’t come to the boudoir.” She followed up her statement, shifting her head from his grasp.

He paused before like a cat prowling his gaze fell into a lazy leer. “Is that why you’re upset with me?” he crooned.

“I’m not—”

“Don’t.” he cut her off, sharp but not cruel. There was a jingle of a singsong in his next words. “You were jealous.”

Now, that made her splutter. “I was not jealous!” she turned around to face him fully. “You left before intermission and then stayed away. I saw you whispering to them!”

“You didn’t like someone stealing me away from you,” Wooyoung continued, smirk on his lips.

“You’re being ridiculous,” she accused him. He was acting like he was the one being courted after not herself. “I-I just wanted—”

“You wanted to meet them, hm?” he swept in a step to wrap an arm about her waist. It was strangely comforting despite their conversation taking a bubbling turn. Almost as if he was reassuring her with his closeness. “Wanted me to show you off?”

She grimaced, not meeting his eyes. Did she? Over the weeks, she had felt a lot, conflicting and confusing.

“I got your hopes up, hm?” he continued to tease.

“Are they your brothers?” she countered, seriousness to his teasing. “Hongjoong? Yeosang? Seonghwa?”

“I told you I don’t know my family, no brothers to my name,” Wooyoung replied easily.

“Your name maybe, but what is your name? Mr. Kim Wooyoung?” she said, raising a brow. Wooyoung’s tongue licked over his teeth as a low bittered rumble of a chuckle built. “Or is it Mr. Jung Wooyoung?”

“Jung Wooyoung to you,” he hummed. “Hongjoong and Seonghwa got me out of a tight spot. Yeosang is like my brother; I trust him like one. You remember a lot, don’t you, swanette?”

She nodded tentatively. It didn’t answer her burning questions of why were they there with him and why did he give her a false last name or did the papers have the wrong one?

“He said you were the prettiest there. He had wanted to meet you – I wanted to show you off, swanette.” Wooyoung reassured.

“Why didn’t you?” it sounded of a whine and her cheeks burned in humiliation. Why did she want him? Was she so used to his praise and attention?

Thumbs went up and down her sides reassuringly. “We got pulled away, is all. It wasn’t intentional. I had wanted them to meet you. I swear it.”

Wooyoung was a charmer, she knew this. But his words tasted so sweet, so honey-sweet. It was hard to question him when it felt real.

“You didn’t mean to leave?” she asked, feeling foolish. Foolish for wanting to know, foolish for asking, foolish for caring at all.

“No,” he laughed out. “Trust me, I’d rather spend time with you than what I got caught up in.”

There was a pause as she took in his face. He had a faint cut over his brow, covered by his perfectly styled hair. Her eyes fell back to meet his gaze.

“Say you missed me?” he encouraged, leaning forward with a smirk. “It’s been weeks; you had to miss me?”

Was this a game? Was this the way patronage felt? A tug back and forth between enjoying their presence while being dreadfully aware that this was all paid pretty folly for them.

“I missed you,” he said when she took a moment too long.

Another beat hung in the air as she pressed her lips together, trying to decipher her confused emotions. There was just one emotion she could figure out.

“I missed you, Wooyoung.”

-

“What happened to your pretty pearl necklace?” He asked later that night. Their tension had eased only a smidge. He sat on the corner of the vanity; multiple treats sat beside him on a silver platter. An apology he said. It had all of her favorites.

“Madame requested I no longer wear it. I’d receive a fee to my costs.”

He scoffed. “Stupid. I’ll talk to her.”

“She won’t take to talking,” she laughed. “She’s the worst woman I’ve ever met.”

“Does she give you a hard time?” he queried.

YN nodded her head as she took a bite out of brownie.

“She’s always disliked me,” she admitted. “I wasn’t as dedicated to dance when I was young. I liked reading and wanted to go to school like the rich girls in the audience. Madame thought I was disobedient.”

“You were just carving your way,” he said.

She shrugged as she offered the other half of the brownie to Wooyoung. He took a nibble, his mouth forming over her own bite.

“I’ll pay the fee,” he said softly after a moment. “Wear it tomorrow.”

He reached up to tuck a strand of her free hair behind her ear.

-

There was someone with him once more. Box #8 looked cramped with Wooyoung and this mysterious man sitting side by side. Throughout the entire act, all she could see was them. Wooyoung grinning and whispering to the mystery man.

Waiting in the boudoir, the pearl necklace around her neck felt hot, like it was on fire. When Wooyoung bounded inside, he looked ecstatic. 

“I brought someone to see you,” Wooyoung revealed in a false whisper, the tone muddled loud with excitement like a child keeping a secret. “I told you I wanted to show you off.”

His hands squeezed hers before with a flourish he spun her around. Hands leaving hers only to find home on her waist. Holding her steady as she was faced with the broad chest of a suited man. Fine fabric draped over his form, tailored from his large shoulders to his lean waist. Spectacles rested on the bridge of his nose, a gleam over his eyes. His hair neatly gelled back into a pompadour.

“Swanette,” Wooyoung’s timbre of a voice was close to her ear; so close, that he could smell her perfume, her hairspray, her hair gel – all aromas that made up the blossoming scent that was uniquely her. Intoxicating. His breath kissed her skin and made her shiver. She could feel the pearly white of his teeth smile against her. “YN, this is San.”

San smiled a smirk down at the dancer, his amber brown eyes flickering to look at Wooyoung. Approval burned in his eyes, and Wooyoung’s grin grew.

San’s hands weren’t large or imposing like his form as he reached for her hand. With gentleness, he clasped her hand and raised it to his mouth. The cat-like smirk didn’t fade even as he pressed a short kiss to her knuckles.

“Miss Y/N, Wooyoung has spoken so much about you,” San’s voice was lower than Wooyoung’s, and it held a honey sweet tone. He hadn’t let go of her hand. “You are a beautiful, talented dancer.”

“Thank you,” she shook his hand softly. “I appreciate your kind words. And it’s nice to meet one of Wooyoung’s friends.”

Wooyoung’s chest rumbled against her back. He squeezed her hips, fingering the place where the beads of her bodice meet her tutu.

“Sannie is my best friend,” he whispered close to her ear. “And he isn’t a kind-worded man; you must’ve really wooed him, swanette.”

San rolled his eyes, hearing Wooyoung’s words. His fingers twitched in her grasp before he let go of her hand carefully.

“Don’t slander me.” He warned before his eyes settled back fondly on her. “I’m a very nice person, little bird.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she replied. “How do you know Woo – did you grow up in Aurora?”

San’s face twitched at the mention of Wooyoung’s previous hometown. “I’ve known Wooyoung since we were tots.” he said, agreeing.

“Do you stay at the Ateez Mansion as well?” she queried.

San nodded. “I do.”

“He likes to decorate the place. He like shiny things.” Wooyoung added, half nuzzling into her shoulder.

“And he likes to blab, if you haven’t noticed,” San countered. “I thought this was time for me to meet the woman you couldn’t shut up about?”

Wooyoung’s hands rose off of her waist in defense at his friend. A curling smirk on his lips, teasing… bratty.

“Excuse me,” he snarked. “I’ll leave you two to it then.”

He stepped away, making her turn to glance at Wooyoung. His face looked serious but there was the air of teasing that Wooyoung just had. His dark eyes shifted from his friend to her with a cat-like slowness.

“I’ll be back,” he pressed a quick kiss to her temple, surprising her.

Her heart jumped and stuttered. He had never done that before. Her ears turned bright red to rival her rouge lipstick.

San smiled at her, his first true smile. It wasn’t curling or seductive but boyish. A grin that made his eyes shut and his nose scrunch. A soft laugh rumbled from his chest. He eyed her with that same grin as she rubbed her temple where his lips had touched, shocked.

She looked after Wooyoung as he scurried away, a rhythm to his steps. His hands tucked cooly into his jacket. If he had been facing her, she’d see the coy grin, boyishly spread on his face. Maybe a cocked eyebrow.

“He’s affectionate,” San revealed. “I’m surprised he hadn’t stolen a kiss yet.”

“He’s a gentleman,” she defended, blushing.

“Gentleman, huh?” the broad-shouldered man repeated with a lilting brow.  He glanced towards the multi-storied doors that he just passed through.

“As much as a man can be while spending money for the boudoir,” she commented. She blinked once and then twice. “I mean— all the men here are gentlemen. . . “ Her laugh was awkward, fumbling.

Perhaps the kiss shook her up a bit too much or YN was surprisingly too comfortable around San already – loose lipped enough to break the allusion of the foyer de la danse. There was a pause before he leaned in. She leaned away out of instinct, hands and form pressing backwards into the vanity. San’s smile hadn’t shifted from his lips nor did the playful grin change to anything offended. He kept her trapped there.

“I don’t know much about this opera or ballet shit,” San admitted, his voice bashful despite his profanity as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “While my household have plenty of enthusiasts... I’m a bit of a novice at this, Miss YN.”

It was charming his confidence in not knowing. It was also charming how he covered for her insult, shifting the attention.

“I see,” she murmured. 

“This is all new to me,” he glanced this way and that at the room. “Wooyo had said he had befriended the prettiest dancer, not that he came to this. What is this place?”

He didn’t sound cruel or tricking. He sounded curious if anything. He leaned forward on the vanity, one arm pressing into the wood to hold his weight as he leaned in close. It reminded her of when she and Wooyoung met. The closeness, the intimacy, the magnetic energy. She thought it was strange to have it with one person, let alone two, but here they were.  

She licked her lips as she ghosted after his gaze around the room. The boudoir in front of her looked like its own scene out of an opera or play. Every girl in their spot; every patron a leading role in their own fantasy.

“Ballet is costly, Mr. San,” she started, her tone low and quiet. He hummed in response.

“These gentlemen-” she continued her post-humous correction through gritted teeth. She saw one of the regular patrons slide a hand over a ballerina’s thigh lower and lower. YN scowled, looking away for the benefit of the girl. “-pay. They pay to see us up close, to talk to us. Our time is theirs.”

“And?” he continued, tearing his eyes away from another patron and his ballerina.

“And anything else they want is theirs,” she managed to get out.

San frowned before spotting Wooyoung returning from where-ever he had ran off to, now carrying back three glasses. One was precariously balanced in between his ring-covered knuckles as he hurried back with careful steps.

“Hello, love birds,” he called, raising his brows playfully. His eyes darted at the closeness between the two of them. San shifted politely away from her.

“Love bird?” he repeated to his friend. “Says the peacock fluffing its feathers.”

Wooyoung crowed out a laugh. It caught the attention of a few ballerinas.

“I’ll take that. I’m handsome.” He flipped his head back to push away his hair that has swung in front of his eyes.

San’s smile returned with ease as he swooped in to grasp one of the glasses before anything more spilled to the wood planks below.

“Swanette?” Wooyoung offered one of the glasses her way. In the glass was no amber liquid but water? She raised it to her nose and sniffed suspiciously.

“It’s just water, baby-doll,” the smaller man reassured.

“She’s a smart one,” San commented.

He smiled politely before taking a sip of his drink. His actions were slow around her she noticed. Or maybe Wooyoung was so high-energy that his friend felt slower in comparison. He moved with intention. Careful. Concise. 

“What were you chatting about?”

“Nothing.” They both said at the same time.

“Intriguing,” Wooyoung countered before smiling wide.

He looked so happy. His smile was so comfortable and yet beaming. She didn’t know it but she was matching the look on her own face. San glanced between them, fondness crinkling his eyes. He cleared his throat.

“Miss YN was just explaining the boudoir to me.” He repeated.

“Boudoir… isn’t this the foyer de la danse?” Wooyoung queried.

“Nickname,” she tried to reassure.

“And what did she say?”

“It’s a whore house,” San said cooly, taking a sip.

Her face flushed at that. “No, I did not!” she exclaimed. Wooyoung glanced between them, amused.

“She wouldn’t have,” he snorted in agreement. “She’s a lady.”

“Its essentially what she said,” San sighed out, raising a brow at his friend.

There was a long moment between the two men before the smaller man looked to her. Wooyoung glanced her up and down.

“Is that true?” he whispered. Concern flashed in his eyes.

“Woo, I – “ she glanced aside, anxiety tumbling. Like theatre, the façade of the boudoir worked only when there were the illusions in place. But now Wooyoung’s careful concerned gaze made her feel like something was wrong. Trouble. Like the theatre was aflame. Like something was changing. “I’ve never- Wooyoung has been my first patron.”

“I’m your patron?” he bumbled out, brows pursing.

Had he thought… they were something else? San had called her his friend. The woman he wouldn’t stop talking about.

She nodded nervously.

“I thought so – you hadn’t paid but the necklace, the treats, everything-“

“Swanette-“ he started, talking over her as he took a step forward. But she didn’t have another chance to voice her words. San’s arm curled over Wooyoung’s shoulder.

“It’s a good thing we’re her patrons,” San insisted. “Patrons like them-” he glanced around at the men in the foyer de la danse with disdain, taking a protective step forward as well. “-aren’t to be trusted.”

YN was shielded from the boudoir in that moment. Like a bird caged in, but was she truly caught? Or was she in the warm embrace of a nest?

San looked at Wooyoung with a little nod, and, with that, the shorter smiled.

San grinned at her, and it sent a zing up her spine, electric.

“I’ve got you, honey. We’ve got you.”

And YN believed them that night.

-

In the dark of another night, her eyes flickered open. She wasn’t in the expensive automobile, nor cradled in Seonghwa’s arms. The last thing she remembered was the gentle rise and fall of his chest and the smell of everything that made Seonghwa Seonghwa. Bittered ground coffee beans, warm vanilla, and a hint of something deeper, something like burnt florals. Elegant and strict-cut like him. How many nights had she spent consumed by that scent in his sheets?

Now, she felt a strange conflicted fondness for his scent. It comforted her as much as it made her stomach churn. A bittersweet situation.

Even now as she blinked her crusty eyes, YN sought it out. Sought him out. It itched at her anger. He wasn’t safe now. Were any of them?

She went to move, push off the too-warm sheets from her form. The room crackled with a lit fire-place; the smell of smoke was heady in the air. She could barely move. Her body didn’t hurt, but her limbs felt slow and sticky like she was submerged in honey, melting into molasses. With a small whine, she shifted under the luxurious covers of the bed restlessly, rustling them as she tried to push herself up.

“Be careful, sweetheart,” a voice rumbled out.

Her bleary eyes shifted to look around the room. Ah, of course, it wasn’t her room. Her sheets were never so heavied. Her fire-place wasn’t ever lit. He stood in front of the flames, a pick prodding at the logs.

Her face sturdied, frowning at him as she tried to move again.

“Don’t move too quickly, sweetheart,” he sounded soft as he put back the pick and approached the fluffed bed.

“Are you in pain?” the man asked, kneeling beside her.

He smiled fondly at her, a hand going to wipe hair out of her face. She wanted to turn away from the love written over his face. Her numb legs reminded her of what had happened. It hadn’t been a nightmare.

“Don’t touch me,” she mumbled, blearily.

“Are you in pain?” he pressed again.

He petted her hair back, tucking it behind her ears. She felt coddled like a pet. Her brow twitched.

“I can get Yunho; the doctor promised him that he gave you enough medicine that you wouldn’t feel a thing until tomorrow’s check-up. If you are –” the man chuckled lowly. “He’ll have hell to pay.”

She glared. The mention of doctors, of Yunho, of everything made the flickers of her rage burn.

“Yeosang, stop,” she bit out. The haze of sleep was fading and as she took deep breaths of the smokey air she felt her anger grow.

His smile faded for a moment at her abrupt command. He licked his lips as his hands mother-henned about her. Fixing the covers to lay lower, fluffing a pillow. She wanted to wiggle away.

“Yeosang!” she snapped again as he continued to fuss.

“YN.” His voice rumbled out warningly.

There were footsteps outside his door. He glanced towards it before, with a deep sigh, he shook his head.

“I know you’re upset.” Yeosang sympathized softly. His hands slid from the comforters to rearrange her hands to rest on her stomach. His fingers intertwined with hers. “But you don’t need to be hurting on top of that. So, I’m going to ask again – are you in pain?”

She glared at him. Why did he have to look at her with such softness? Such devotion. Did he plot her injury? Did he know? No, for some reason, she felt like Yeosang couldn’t manage such cruelty – even if he was cruel on the court. And there was the glaring obvious fact that he hadn’t been in the mansion for some days.

“YN,” he pushed again.

“No,” she admitted.

Her gaze fell to their interlocked hands. His thumb brushed soothing circles and the occasional ‘x’ across the back of her hand. He smiled, small and kind. Relieved, she realized.

“Good,” he breathed before he leaned forward to press a warm kiss to the back of knuckles.

Her fingers twitched. He didn’t move after the kiss. His chin rested there on her stomach as he stared up at her. Yeosang always held this reverence, similar to Wooyoung. Eyes of devotion she used to think, but unlike Wooyoung’s playful gleam, Yeosang’s had a look to his eyes. Of seriousness. It wasn’t a darkness, no, his eyes were the most honeyed-ambered of the bunch, soft and gleaming like a fire-place’s embers. There was no humor, no teasing, when it came to her. Steadfast, knowing.

He breathed in her skin, lips hot against her skin.

“Why are you here?” she asked after a moment.

He frowned at her, head unmoving.

“You were away on business – you had been gone for days,” she continued. “And now you are just back?”

“I heard what happened to you, sweetheart,” he offered. “I had to come back.”

“How did you hear? It’s only been hours – no letters could reach you that quick.” She retorted.

Yeosang’s smiled against her knuckles. “I had a feeling.”

It felt like he was painting an ‘x’ on a treasure map – all pointing to the fact that she was right. They had done something – they had known something; they had planned this. Her own lovers. The same men who had made her melt into the idea that she was safe with them.  

She scoffed and, with the little energy she had, she pushed his cheek away from her. It didn’t do much. How much pain medication was she on to be so weak, so drowsy?

“Seonghwa had mentioned you were upset, but not this upset,” he pouted as if she had slapped him.

“How would you handle this, Yeosang?” she bit back. “If someone had broken your arms? Your wrists?”

He’d understand; he had to understand. He was dedicated to his sport; the fearsome Kim Yeosang. Awarded countless first-places and countless prizes for his talent on the court. But instead, she saw this sadness flood his gaze. Not tears, no, he never cried.

Yeosang’s hand rose to stroke her cheek with a gentle forefinger. Far too gentle compared to the harsh words, he spoke next.

“I would have never tried to leave, sweetheart. I know better; I wouldn’t have tried it ever.”

[grlsbstshot]

NEON LIGHTS

Pairing (Original Characters):

Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion) Genie Adesanya (Jayme Lawson) x Ellington “EJ” Dupree (Kelvin Harrison Jr.)

Chapters:

Neon Lights Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: jameson deals with the consequences of the many disappointments he's given imani over the years. sloane continues to unravel and only Christian realizes. genie and ej take another step in their relationship while imani wonders if she and jameson are worth saving.

Warnings: smut (18+), toxic relationship, emotional breakdown, explicit terminology, dirty talk (kinda), dd/lg (slight), dom/submissive sex scene, p in v, oral (male receiving), biting -- if we missed anything, let us know!

Word Count: 8.4k Divider Template: @cafekitsune

Notes: 

The following characters are original creations. Their voice claims are Usher / Lucky Daye (Jameson) & Summer Walker / SZA (Imani). We have no affiliation to any of those artists.

Jameson stepped out of the elevator, brushing past stilted bodies as he made his way towards the parking garage. He had called Imani six times since leaving Sloane's apartment but there was no response. He scrolled past all the texts, all the notifications, and rejected several other calls. The only person he wanted to talk to was her. He got the voicemail again and the realization that she wanted nothing to do with him set in. He strode to his car, his jaw clenched. By the time he slid into the front seat, he was determined. He'd just go to her house. Even if he had to talk to her through the damn intercom at her front gate, he'd do it.

With a plan in mind, Jameson turned the car on and prepared to leave...but his gaze strayed to the phone in his hand. Common sense told him not to do it but he did. He went back to EJ's text and clicked the link to the music. Even as her voice filtered in through his car speakers, he didn't quite accept that it was her. It'd been so long since he'd heard music from her. Even her voice sounded different.

The untrained ear probably didn't hear it but Jameson did. He heard the anger, the loathing. She used to sing about him with exasperation but always love. Everything they sang about one another held an understanding -- they loved each other. He couldn't hear it anymore. Her lyrics were vivid, each word painting a picture of the love they’d shared and the ways it had fallen apart. He could hear the anger in her tone, the bitterness laced with sadness. The despair mingled with hope. Fuck.

I get this type of feeling you ain't accustomed to I swear I'd be at peace if it weren't for you

He winced the first time he got a shot on the project. They had done it back and forth to one another but she sounded fucking miserable with him. It was like he could pinpoint every single time she touched pen to paper and wrote a lyric that was about their relationship.

I don't care about what you seen in me You were not who you pretend to be I will regret giving my last, man I should've let you crash out Can't believe you blaming me

Every situation flashed right before his eyes. Argument after argument that leads to making up.

Trying to find, you're my blindspot, it's fine niggas Ruin me every single time

The first time they saw each other after a year -- when she made him swear not to make her any promises so she could avoid being disappointed.

You know we got a real history That's no reason I can't choose me You know that dick been good to me You make it hard for me to choose me Dancing and kissing, the kitchen Makes me forget, I forgive him

The morning after they returned from Italy -- when everything seemed to be on an upswing for them.

That pussy hit like royalty Must be hard for you to lose me

The frantic texts and calls that he couldn't stop himself from making. That he didn't want to stop.

Text me like I'm waitin' for you to come lie to me Ruin my day, sayin' shit to hurt me, I can't compete Still on the way, I lay awake if you're not around me I'm so on to you, still gone for you

God, why did she stay with him? Three years together. A year apart. She still gave him the chance to come back even though that was how he made her feel.

You don't wanna be, be without me You don't wanna live I don't wanna go, ooh, no I don't wanna be alone, oh All that I know is mirrors inside me They recognize you, please don't deny me

It was true. He didn't want to live without her. But how was he ever supposed to go back to her with this knot in his gut? How was he supposed to lay next to her at night knowing he drained and twisted her up inside like this? Even without trying? She had every right to hate him and she knew it. In those lyrics, it told their whole story. She wanted to hate him...but couldn't.

He hadn't even realized he was driving until he came to a stop...at his own house. Even his subconscious knew he couldn't face Imani right then. What was he going to say? I'm sorry. I was wrong. I fucked up again. I hurt you again. Look away, forgive me again. It sounded hollow as fuck even in his head. He didn't have the right to ask for any of it.

He hadn’t just hurt her a few times -- he’d broken their relationship in ways he couldn’t even comprehend. She’d poured her pain into this music, and the world was celebrating it, but all he could hear was the sound of her heart-shattering and it was his fault. So he sat there in his punishment, listening over and over. For the first time, he wasn’t thinking about what he’d lost. He was thinking about what he’d taken from her — and how he’d never be able to give it back.

Her entire body felt like it was in shock. She felt numb. The carefully planned dinner she'd prepared for Jameson had spiraled out of control. She didn't even remember breaking dishes but they sat in shattered pieces around her as she leaned against her front door. How could he just leave her? He wasn't supposed to leave! He was supposed to appreciate her and be happy she was there for him. He was supposed to see true loyalty from her. But somehow...it had all fallen apart.

Sloane’s hands trembled as she slowly crawled across the floor, avoiding slivers of shattered plates. By the time she had enough awareness to climb to her feet, she realized she needed her phone. She searched the room, finding it underneath the couch. In the chaos, it had slipped away. It trembled in her hands as she tried to decide who to call.

She was sad. Hurting. Who was she supposed to call? Her parents? They didn't care. Genie? She had tossed that friendship away. Jameson? Her heart clenched at the idea of calling him and going to voicemail. She sat on her couch, holding the phone to her chest before it dawned on her. She wiped her damp palms on her skirt as she called the contact and the phone rang. Her chest felt tighter, her breaths shallow and uneven.

When his voice finally came through the line, her relief was overshadowed by desperation. "C-Come over,” she said quickly, her voice cracking. “I need you here. Please.” She hung up before he could respond, her pulse racing. She sank onto the couch, running her fingers through her hair, tugging at the strands in frustration.

By the time Christian arrived, her makeup was streaked from tears she hadn’t even realized she’d shed. He stepped inside, his usual confident demeanor faltering when he saw her.

“Sloane,” he said softly, shutting the door behind him. “What the fuck happened?”

She stood, her movements frantic, and began pacing again. “He said he's done with me. Jameson — he ended everything. Our friendship, everything. He called me out for all of it—for hurting Genie, for you, for everything I’ve done.”

Christian frowned, his concern evident. “Okay, slow down. Take a breath. What exactly did he say?”

Sloane stopped pacing, turning to face him. “He asked if I fucked you. I told him it was a mistake. He didn't even care that I slept with you. He cared that it hurt Genie. He didn't even care about me." Her voice trailed off, mumbling as she dissolved into tears again. "That I’ve ruined too much, and he can’t trust me anymore. "He looked at me like I was disgusting, Christian. Like I was nothing.” Her voice broke on the last word, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

Christian approached her cautiously, his tone gentle. “I need you to calm down. C'mon, sit down. I'll get you some water." Sloane's movements were jerky and she couldn't get herself to stop shaking. Christian took her arm firmly, guiding her to sit back down. "Don't move."

For once, Sloane didn't argue or ignore him. She sat there and stared at the ceiling, the past few years hitting her hard. When he brought the glass back to her and took a seat next to her, she was in tears again. “I don't know --" she began, shifting her gaze to find his. "I don’t know who I am without him.”

Christian’s jaw tightened, his sympathy battling with his frustration. “You lived a life before Jameson Lucas smiled at you. You'll be fine without him. Just...stop digging yourself deeper."

She pulled away from him, her movements sharp, gaze darting to her phone on the coffee table. “I don’t know. I just… I need him to feel what I’m feeling. To know how much this hurts.”

“Revenge isn’t going to make this better. It’s just going to make things worse for you and for him -- not that I give a fuck about him.” “It’s not revenge. It’s justice." "So you fuck with him some more. You think that'll make him love you?" "I...I don't know how to get him back." "What if you never do. What are you going to do?"

Sloane hesitated and Christian rolled his eyes. “Wake up. No matter what you do -- he won't be yours. But the sun is going to come up tomorrow, Sloane. The world will keep on turning. Life will continue. You will continue."

Fresh tears filled her eyes again and she doubled over, laying on the couch and crying softly to herself. She was alone. She didn't even notice Christian sitting next to her, his fingers awkwardly brushing through her hair as she cried.

EJ snored against her chest as the light from her cell illuminated her bedroom. Genie pressed her hand to his back, rubbing in small circles as she continued to text Imani back. The two hadn't seen each other in person but Genie finally found the words to tell her she wasn't upset about the photo. their friendship immediately shifted back into normalcy -- with the two texting and calling regularly. Despite the massive Jameson-shaped elephant in the room.

After listening to Imani's EP, Genie couldn't help but interfere. Even when she told EJ she wouldn't.

[ genie ] : i loved diary, mani mani ❤️ [ baby mama ❤️ ] : aw my genie. thank you [ genie ] : i promise to smack jamie's neck again when i see him [ baby mama ❤️ ] : lmao, you ain't gotta do that, baby [ genie ] : are you just going to keep avoiding him forever? [ baby mama ❤️ ] : idk, genie. i'm not ready to talk to him yet. [ genie ] : i think you should hear him out, mani. he's really sorry [ baby mama ❤️ ] : 🙄 that's the problem. he's always fuckin sorry. it's sloane today, but next week, it'll be some other shit. [ genie ] : but you love him. you haven't loved anyone the way that you love him. i think you should at least hear him out [ baby mama ❤️ ] : i can't make no promises, genie 🙅🏾‍♀️ [ genie ] : okay, okay. i guess i'll take it. there is something else i have to tell you tho...it's about christian and me. [ baby mama ❤️  ] : what? i promise those pics ain't mean shit. i just wanted to make jameson jealous. [ genie ] : i know, i just want you to be careful with him .the reason why i stopped talking to him is because he slept with sloane. [ baby mama ❤️ ] : wtf??? 😡 you lyin! [ genie ] : i wish i was. i confronted sloane and she said he didn't even want me anyways...he liked someone else. i'm starting to think it's you he wanted. [ baby mama ❤️ ] : fuck, i'm so sorry genie. that nigga wouldn't even got a chance to breathe my air if i knew that shit. he's blocked now! and if i catch that bitch sloane in the street, i'm whooping her ass. i promise you that. idgaf bout no fame shit. [ baby mama ❤️  ] : are you okay now? [ genie ] : yeah, it's in the past. i got a new man now. [ baby mama ❤️  ] : ....new man?

Imani stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the strap of her dress, her gaze drifting the length of her gown. Being in front of crowds didn't phase her but she was going to a charity event -- a Christmas day gala. After spending the morning with visiting friends and family, she felt a sense of calm. He didn't stand in the forefront of her mind on Christmas Day. But the second she counted him out of her system, he course he did something to show her that he was still embedded in her skin.

As she descended the stairs to show off her dress to the assembled relatives, Imani rounded the corner with a bright grin. "And I look damn good!" There he stood among her cousins and aunt -- her father glaring from a corner. He looked handsome, quietly composed. He acted like he was supposed to be there. "What are you doing here?" she asked him, ignoring the curious looks of her family members.

She hadn’t expected him to show up tonight. Not after everything that had happened between them. But when he’d agreed weeks ago to escort her to the gala, she had assumed it was just a polite gesture— he was doing his best to get back in her good book. She hadn’t expected him to actually follow through.

And yet, here he was in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, standing with his hands in his pockets, leaning against her kitchen counter.

"We made plans," he replied, his voice warm, but with an edge of determination. “I wanted to keep them.”

She hesitated, eyes flicking over him, then around the room to everyone else. It wasn't as if they weren't aware of what was going on. They all saw the gossip, heard the news. But still -- she felt vulnerable letting them all have a front row seat to a fight with him. "Hmph. They definitely weren't still on." She hadn’t thought about what this night would actually feel like. It had been easy to imagine herself attending the gala without him—easy to picture her life moving forward without the constant ache of their broken relationship. But now that he was standing in front of her, it was harder to push him away.

"They aren't?" He asked with a deceptively innocent tilt to his head. "I didn't get that message from you. I'm sorry."

He was practically bating her into a reply. Imani glared at him, choosing to ignore his presence. She didn't respond, didn't say anything. She continued to fawn over her family, acting like Jameson wasn't there at all. They took pictures together, she tasted her aunty's dressing, and she kissed her parents goodbye before her team between to help her get into her driver's waiting car.

Jameson didn't complain, didn't beg for her attention. He stood silent and eventually followed her out of the house, waving goodbye to the family members that did engage with him.

She sighed, looking away from him. The thought of spending the evening with him, surrounded by people who would notice their tension, made her stomach churn. But something in her wouldn't let him win. They couldn't see her fluster or sweat when it came to him She had to admit, part of her wanted to go. Part of her wanted to see if this night could somehow undo all the hurt they’d caused each other.

“Mani,” he said, once he got into the car, his voice low and insistent. “We don’t have to pretend everything’s fine. But we can still do this. For one night. Let’s just...take things as they are.”

She met his gaze then, and for a moment, the weight of everything between them seemed to disappear. It was just him. Just her. And the night ahead of them.

“Fine,” she said, crisply. “But I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for me.”

He smiled and she saw a flicker of something in his eyes. Relief? Grief? It was something she couldn't identify. Every time he looked at her, it was as if he was asking for something. Whatever it was -- Imani didn't know if she had it in herself to give.

Sloane adjusted the strap of her Brandon Maxwell gown, a trembling hand brushing against her hair as she peered at her reflection in the tinted window of the car. Pulling herself together after Jameson left her alone in her apartment had been difficult. Christian had been a frantic last resort. He had shown up when she didn’t truly expect him to. She spent days in a daze, trying to truly understand what had gone wrong. The instinct to say something, to lash out was so strong that it felt suffocating. She’d been doomscrolling on Instagram and saw a grainy image of – was that Jameson?

It had been him. An image, taken from the account of one of Imani’s family members and posted directly to This Just In’s account. Seeing they were together had given Sloane some kind of strength. How dare they be happy when she was struggling? Her heels clicked against the pavement as she left the car and made her way towards the gala without an invitation. Sloane had a currency that mattered more than paper: Her name.

Heads turned as she passed, her presence commanding attention. But she wasn’t there to charm or distract – she was there to destroy. She didn’t even care what Imani would say or do to her. Just as long as Jameson’s gaze met her own again. Even if he was looking at her like he hated her – at least he was looking at her.

With a laugh and a promise to donate three times the amount as anyone else, she was allowed to enter. She saw him almost immediately. Imani wasn’t far but they weren’t wrapped up in each other. They weren’t laughing at her pain. They looked…miserable. It should have made her happy but Sloane simply stared, wondering what was happening between them. Imani didn’t meet Jameson’s gaze, Jameson kept tugging on his suit like he was uncomfortable. What was going on?

“Sloane.”

She turned sharply, her eyes narrowing as she met Christian’s gaze. He was impeccably dressed, as always, but there was a sadness in his expression that she didn’t expect.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed at him, somewhat ashamed that he had seen her cry a few days before and now he was looking at her with pity. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“It has everything to do with me,” Christian said firmly, stepping closer. “You’re spiraling, and you’re about to make a fool of yourself—and everyone else in the process.”

Sloane scoffed, frowning as she moved away from him. “You don’t get to lecture me, Christian. You’re just as complicit in this mess as I am.”

“Yeah, I am,” he admitted, his voice low and steady. “I’m stuck in this shit because I wanted somebody so bad that I lost myself trying to get her. Look at her. Hell, look at him. Just look!”

Sloane reluctantly looked across the room. Jameson was gazing out at the crowd, his eyes seeing but he didn’t seem to be registering anybody around. Imani was looking at him. Her gaze was soft. Almost sad. She loved him. Even if she didn’t want to admit it, Sloane could see it.

“They’re in their little world. We will never be able to get in because all they care about is each other.” Christian told her roughly, the reality making her sad. “I may not be able to judge you right now but I’m not the one standing here, ready to burn everything to the ground because I didn’t get my way.”

Her eyes flashed with anger and she jerked away from him. “You think this is about me? This is about him. Jameson thinks he can walk away from me like I’m nothing. Like I didn’t matter.”

“You mattered,” Christian said, his tone softening. “You did. And then you didn’t. That’s your own fault.” She flinched, recoiling as if he had hit her by being so casually cruel. It was a simple statement. One that had been true. Sloane hesitated, her lip trembling slightly. “But he…deserves it,” she said, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “He deserves to know what it feels like to be humiliated.”

Christian stepped in front of her, blocking her path to the couple. “And what about you? Is that what you deserve? Don’t you think you’ve been through enough?”

Sloane’s lips parted, shoulders slumping as his words sank in. She began to blink quickly, trying to rid her eyes of tears. “What am I supposed to do now? Just let them win?”

He glanced over his shoulder, peering at Imani and Jameson. Whatever he’d been about to say, he chose not to. Instead, he pressed his hand to her elbow and began to walk her toward the exit. Sloane was too overwhelmed to do much of anything but let him. “Nobody is winning, Sloane. All of us are fucking losers in this shit. It’s time we both stop chasing a dream.”

Genie looped her arm through EJ’s as they entered the grand ballroom. Her Jacquemeus Pilou boots work perfectly as accessories. Her self-designed black velvet mini dress left a shoulder bare and very little to the imagination. For once, she felt good about everything. She cuddled close to EJ, knowing they were going to have much to explain to their best friends – but she was okay with that. She was ready. Genie adjusted the hem of her dress and scanned the room, already aware of the tension crackling in the air.

“Imani’s here,” she murmured, spotting her friend near the edge of the dance floor. She was standing stiffly next to Jameson, who leaned in to say something. Imani turned her head sharply, her expression a mix of defiance and unease.

EJ followed Genie’s gaze, his brow furrowing. “They don’t look like two people enjoying a gala together.”

“They don’t,” Genie agreed, her lips pressing into a thin line. She sighed, glancing up at EJ. “Imani doesn’t need this kind of stress right now.”

“You think Jameson brought her to stress her out?” EJ asked. “He’s obsessed with that girl. He’s probably trying to fix it.”

Genie hesitated, her eyes flicking back to the couple. Jameson’s posture was slightly hunched, as if he was trying to close the gap between them, but Imani’s arms were crossed, her body angled away.

“Whatever he’s doing, it’s not working.” she said softly, sighing. 

Before EJ could respond, movement near the entrance caught Genie’s attention. Her chest tightened as she spotted Sloane descending the stairs, her sharp gaze zeroed in on Jameson and Imani.

“Oh, God,” Genie huffed, annoyed with the fact that she was one foot into the gala and her night was looking to be ruined.

“What?” EJ turned, following her gaze. “Ain’t this bout a bitch.”

Sloane’s stride was purposeful, her dress clinging to her like armor. There was something wild in her expression, a barely restrained chaos that Genie had seen before—usually right before Sloane did something destructive.

“We need to stop her,” Genie said. “No. We don’t.” “Baby–” “No. That’s their shit, Genie. We said we’re out.”

It was like a car wreck. Genie couldn’t force herself to look away. Before Sloane could reach Imani and Jameson, Christian arrived. The two of them watched him step in front of Sloane, his hand on her arm as he spoke quickly. Sloane shook her head, her gestures animated, her voice too low to hear over the music. Christian’s grip tightened, and for a moment, it looked like she might shove him away.

Genie held her breath.

Sloane wavered, her shoulders slumping slightly. Christian leaned in, his tone firm but not unkind, and whatever he said seemed to take the fight out of her. With a sharp turn, she stalked back up the stairs and disappeared into the night.

Genie exhaled, relief washing over her. The tension between she and EJ were about other people and Genie would be damned if she let her night end on a bad note because her friends – ex and present – couldn’t get it together. “Okay. Fuck it. Fuck this party. I’m sorry. Take me home.”

The air inside EJ’s home was warm and quiet, a stark contrast to the loud chaos of the gala. Genie slipped off her heels and sank onto the plush couch, her head falling back against the cushions.

“Tonight was... a lot,” she said, closing her eyes.

“Yeah,” EJ agreed, loosening his tie. He sat down beside her, his arm draping casually over the back of the couch.

Genie turned her head to look at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You always know how to keep things steady, don’t you?”

“I try,” he said, his tone light.

She studied his face, the lines of his jaw, the way his eyes softened when they looked at her. She finally had that calm back. Before they let the world in, she had a little sliver of peace with EJ. He had been right. She cared far too much about other people and it was beginning to fuck with what she was trying to build with him.

Genie frowned somewhat, beckoning him over with a wave of her hand. “I’m sorry. I let everything get in my head again.”

EJ gave her a soft smile before leaning down to kiss her lips gently. “You can’t help it. That’s how you are. You love everybody and everything.”

“I just want them to be happy.” She whispered. “I know. But that’s not your job.” “It could be. Technically, I don’t have a job. I'm an heiress.” “Smart ass.” He murmured, kissing her again. “I can think of a job for you.” “Can you?”

His hand moved from the couch to her chin, fingertips gliding to press to her throat gently. Genie didn’t flinch, the action unfazed her. She trusted EJ implicity…and that turned him on.

“I can.” He knew she could see that things had changed. He’d only ever been between her legs to taste her, holding off on sex until they could have a conversation that he’d had several times before. Pulling his hand away, EJ rounded the couch and took a seat next to her. “I like sex, Genie. I like it a lot. And I like to control how I have sex.” 

EJ’s gaze met hers and he saw her eyes go wide. It took her less than a second to understand what he was saying. “Okay.” she murmured.

“Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

EJ spoke clearly and softly, his gaze tracking her movements.

“I’m not a virgin, EJ.” she told him with a laugh, “You want to tie me down? Spank me? I’m down. Whatever you want to do, I will do. Because I want you.”

“It can’t just be about me, Genie. We’re going to be together, we both have to like it.”

He seemed to be talking himself out of going further with her but the feel of her soft hand against his mouth stopped all conversation.

“I understand. We can take it slow. Teach me.” 

The words triggered something in EJ. He gave her a grin before nodding his own head. "Alright. Lemme teach you."

Despite the agreement that they'd let the night be what it was, the tension between them was thick and suffocating. The gala was in full swing, the lights from the building casting a warm glow over the crowd of well-dressed people. The party certainly didn't stop when they arrived but Jameson could detect a ripple of disbelief. They weren't supposed to be together. Even though they weren't holding hands, weren't kissing, or behaving anywhere near the way they normally would -- the two of them being together was going to cause a commotion.

Throughout the evening, they danced around the situation, polite and distant. They didn't even engage with each other much at all. He wanted to be there for her -- to not let her down once again but the more he stood beside her, the more he remembered just how fractured shit was. Every time he tried to engage her, she refused. It was like pulling teeth to exchange words.

He got more and more uncomfortable as the evening passed. He didn't know what to do with himself and Imani wasn'[t interested in making things easy for him.

But finally... she spoke to him.

About a fucking drink.

"I'm gonna go speak to my auntie real quick." she murmured. "you want a drink? I might go to the bar on my way back." 

"That's the first time you've talked to me like you don't hate me in two hours. And it's about a drink." he replied, not answering her question. Jameson reached up, gently pulling at the bowtie against his neck. Being on raw terms with Imani always made him uncomfortable but doing it in front of a crowd? It was even worse.

She chuckled lowly at his statement and he knew he was in for it. "What do we have to talk about, Jameson?” she said. "I think you've said enough. I heard enough. Don't make me regret asking."

Jameson tugged at his bowtie again, lifting his neck to undo the damn thing. he was beyond uncomfortable and keeping appearances wasn't important to him anymore. He didn't give a damn if people noticed they were standing feet apart and barely touching. "No, I don't want a fucking drink. I only came because I was tired of disappointing you. but I might as well have stayed at home for all you care." He pulled the silk from his neck, shoving it in his pocket as he unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt.

She clenched her jaw, folding her arms over her chest. “Yeah, maybe you should have stayed at home.” Well, this conversation was going horribly. 

“You really don’t think we have shit to talk about? I guess not, considering you’ve been ignoring my texts and calls.” Jameson asked her, amazed at her audacity. They hadn’t spoken since sloane’s party and that had been her decision. Once again, he was iced out and desperate to get back in. She gave him absolutely nothing until tonight. Everything else he found out from her Diary ep, and just the thought of the project agitated him even further. 

She sighed. Her annoyance began to show through her furrowed brows and crossed arms. She could no longer keep up with the facade either. “What the fuck do you want me to say to you? You said everything you needed to say. So, why we gotta keep talkin’ about the same shit?” she snapped. 

“Imani, you dropped a whole ep talking about how you felt about us before even picking up the phone to talk about those feelings with me, but we have nothing to talk about?” She looked around the gala, looking for any eyes on the two of them. Jameson didn’t give a fuck though. His reputation took a backseat to their relationship every time. 

“Why does it matter what I do? You made your choice and it wasn’t me. So nothing I do concerns you.”

Jameson turned to glare at imani, actually confused for the first time during their conversation. He didn't even need to play stupid or lie. “In what world, In what fucking reality, did I tell you that I chose her over you? I should have done differently that night but I would never say that shit to you.” He thought back to their argument and couldn’t figure out what the fuck was even happening here. He spent his entire week, bombarding her with calls and texts, but she was still focused on Sloane? 

Imani turned to glare at him. “You didn’t have to fuckin’ say it! It’s the fact that you didn’t say anything. That’s making a choice right there, Jameson.”

He sighed. “I texted and called you this whole week. I went and got fitted for a tux without you even telling me if you still wanted me to go to this gala. Then I showed up. All of that was for you.” he said, his voice strained. He stared at her. “I wouldn’t do that for anybody else.”

“Okay? You want a cookie?” imani scoffed. “None of that means anything to me, Jameson. You didn’t stick up for me at Sloane’s party. you chose her. So go be with her.” He watched her scan the crowd again, realizing that she kept her temper in check, because there were other people around. “Go get your girl.”

From her EP to her admitting his actions meant nothing, his feelings were hurt. Jameson didn’t fool himself into thinking that everything would be okay if he showed up tonight but he felt he was doing the right thing by being here. “You can’t tell me how I feel about you. You can’t tell me I love anybody more than I love you. You can’t tell me that I don’t think the world begins and ends with you. I don’t fucking feel right if I can’t talk to you. I do stupid shit like fly to Italy and bang on every room door just to fucking see you. But I’m so tired of trying to convince you that my sun does not rise if you aren't around...so I won’t anymore. I’m done. You’re right about one thing…I should have stayed my ass home tonight.”

it may have been a sliver of a second but her demeanor softened. it was like he triggered an alarm because her guard was right back up again. "Yeah, maybe it's best if you go then. Because you tellin' me how much you love me don't mean shit. If you really loved me in the way you say that you do, I wouldn't even have to question my position in your life.”

Jameson hated to leave her, he hated to continue the distance between them, but it was getting to be too much now. He could feel his fragile composure slipping even more. “I love you and I don't want to keep hurting you.” He leaned in briefly, kissing her cheek. “So I’ll see you when I see you, Imani.” He gave her one final look before walking away, slipping through the crowd easily as he made his way out.

Imani exhaled a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. contrary to what she said, She didn’t want Jameson to leave. Imani looked out at the crowd to see if he was still there. Her eyes focused on him and no one else as he moved through everyone. She wanted to tell him that she wanted to work things out. That she believed him but her feet didn’t move an inch. She just watched him until she couldn’t see him anymore. 

She sighed, standing to her feet. Imani went to go look for her aunt, Toni St. Cirie. she needed a distraction. Imani wasn’t going to cry, but if she thought about her conversation with Jameson for too long, she would lose it. 

Luckily for Imani, she didn’t get far in her heels when she felt a bump to her side. She looked to see the blonde woman standing beside her. “You need it. Drink.” Imani took the champagne without a second thought. She almost chugged it down until she remembered where she was at, so she settled on a sip. 

“Thank you. Can you sit with me for a while?” If Toni was here, she was more than likely working. She never attended galas just to mingle and bump shoulders with the wealthy. Imani didn’t want to take her away from her job for too long. She just needed someone to talk to. 

“Of course.” She answered softly. The two navigated the floor together.  Imani held onto her champagne glass tightly. the more people she saw, the less she wanted to be there. She wanted to go home. She was grateful when Toni found a spot away from everyone else. Toni pulled out a chair for Imani and took a seat next to her. The woman looked around before speaking. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She rolled her eyes, thinking back on her conversation with Jameson. She wanted nothing more than to forget it. “Auntie, it’s so stupid. I know you heard about that fight at that girl’s party,” she said, refusing to address Sloane by name anymore. “Well, I hadn’t talked to him this whole week because what do we have to talk about when you obviously made your choice? He was still calling and everything, but I ignored it all and dropped Diary. i just didn’t expect him to show up tonight.”

Toni quirked a brow as she explained their latest quarrel.

Imani sighed, "I know i should leave him alone. it’s just – hard.”

“Well then, it’s good that he left right?” Toni told Imani. she had never been Jameson’s biggest fan. Her aunt always advocated for her to leave him alone and focus on her career. She said a relationship like theirs would only lead to insanity.

Imani nodded slowly, “I–I guess so,” she said timidly. Now that they were alone, she forgot about her formalities and looking like she had everything together. She gulped down the rest of her champagne, feeling it tingle in the back of her throat. She needed to feel something other than anger and sorrow right now. The champagne would do.

Toni reached out and touched her knee. “Baby…” she said softly, shaking her head. “Anything worth doing is going to be difficult. You keep going in this circle with Jameson. You’re happy for a while and then you’re right back here. In this feeling. He shouldn’t get to have all this power over you. This should be the last time that you feel like this.”

She gazed at her aunt. Imani always took Toni’s advice regarding her career and everything else. She was terrible at listening to her when it came to Jameson. Yet, she nodded her head. “You’re…right. Nobody should be allowed to make me feel like this.”

“Damn right,” Toni confirmed with a smirk. she took her niece’s hands in her own, holding them close. “You just released an ep full of hits, Imani. That should be your focus. Not a man. But if you have to date someone, let me introduce you to a nice boy.”

She laughed for the first time tonight. “Depending on what the nice boy looks like, I might take you up on your offer.”

Toni smiled, nodding in agreement. “I’ll make sure he’s an elite-looking boy.”

“I trust your taste, auntie. All of your exes are fine as hell.” She couldn’t think of ever seeing Toni with an ugly man; she had good taste. The two of them continued their conversation about men, which eventually shifted to her career and different ideas she had for her Diary ep, and eventually, Imani wasn’t thinking about Jameson at all.

Genie might be the woman of his dreams.

She asked to be taught and he wasted no time doing just that. EJ figured they would take things slow. He would teach her how to please him. They’d get to sex another time. But as she lay across his bed, the dress had customized for herself hung with care in his closet, he knew he was going to fuck her.

She turned her head, taking his length down her throat once more. She was on her knees and stomach, leaning over the edge of the bed to get to him. EJ grunted in pleasure at the perfect feel of her wet mouth, a deep rumble that reverberated in his own chest. His dick throbbed in her mouth as her cheeks hollowed out. She kept her gaze on his face, hands clenched in the blanket as if she were waiting for instruction. 

“Pull back.” He told her roughly, pleased when she immediately knew it meant to keep only the head of him in her mouth. Pre-cum mixed with her saliva coated his dick and EJ gave her a wistful sigh of appreciation. She held him there in her mouth, those pretty hazel eyes just asking for more.

He seized the back of Genie's hair, pulling her forward onto his cock slowly. The further they went, the wider her eyes got but she didn’t pull away. Didn’t buck back. Didn’t tell him she couldn’t handle it. The action caused Genie to gag slightly which only turned him on more. He groaned and thrust his hips forward only to be met with her hand against his thigh.

EJ pulled back suddenly, leaving Genie gasping for air. "Not bad," he praised lightly, grinning wolfishly down at his lover as he reached around to stroke himself off lazily, watching Genie with hooded eyes. “Now I’m going to be nice and give you a choice. Don’t you think that’s nice of me?”

Genie opened her mouth to respond but then closed it and nodded. He had given her four rules when they started to play.

Be honest about your comfort level

Don’t speak unless given permission

Call him “Sir” or nothing at all.

No touching without permission.

EJ grinned, proud that she had remembered a rule. "Good girl. Very good girl." he praised before leaning down to kiss Genie gently on the lips. They were full and wet from the attention she had given his dick. He was even more proud of her. "So here's your choice: do you want me to fuck you or do you–”

“Fuck me!” Genie blurted out, her eyes going wide as if she couldn’t believe she’d said it. They both went quiet before EJ burst out in laughter. Genie blushed but she didn’t seem dismayed at the turn of things.

"I wasn’t done talking," EJ told her with a quirked brow. “I’m sorry, Sir.” She said softly, her fingers pulling at the blankets in anticipation.

He brushed his thumb against her mouth, liking the way she opened her lips as if begging him to press the digit inside. He gave in to her, pushing his thumb in. Genie brushed her tongue against it, sucking just as eagerly as she did when his dick was in her mouth.

It was enough to make him feel less guilty about giving in. He was fucking her because she asked…but also because he wanted her so bad that he could feel the pre-cum dripping from his dick.

"You picked what we do. I decide how we do it." EJ told her decisively. “Turn around.” 

She was already on her knees but she understood exactly what he meant. Genie scrambled to turn her back to him, stretching her hands across the bed. The anticipation was a fucking killer. He watched her tremble, glancing over her shoulder every two seconds as if he was going to change his mind. EJ pressed his fingers between her legs, gathering her slick onto his fingers. She did her best not to make a sound but EJ knew she’d be unable to resist. They were new to all of this. He was going to go easy on her.

“Let me hear it, sweetness.” He encouraged her, noticing how her shoulders sagged in relief when she got permission. Genie let out a soft moan as he climbed onto the bed, his knees sinking into the mattress as he pressed himself against her. He drew his dick up and down her folds, teasing them both. EJ leaned over her back, peppering kisses along her spine as he finally grasped her hips in his hands.

EJ felt her brace for the inevitable thrust so he moved slowly. Inch by inch, he introduced her to her dick and it made her clench and squirm more than she would have if he just pinned her down and fucked her. Genie arched her back in pleasure, panting softly. She squeezed around him and he just knew it was going to be over if he didn’t do something.

"Hold it," EJ whispered, leaning down to press his lips to her ear, “I want to take my time with you.” He kissed and nipped at her earlobe. Genie shuddered at the sensation and nodded, eagerly spread her legs wider, giving him better access. She sank further against the bed, her palms turned down to grip the comforter.

Ej chuckled darkly and trailed his lips down to Genie's neck, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin there. Meanwhile, one hand reached between her legs to tease her already wet clit. Genie moaned and arched into his touch, craving more. “Sir, I–”

But he ignored her.

EJ continued to tease and torment her. Genie arched back, twisting her hips out in pleasure as he began to move them in a slow, torturous rhythm. She mumbled words he couldn't quite comprehend but he understood how her body twisted and turned. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly. EJ's other hand traveled up to fondle one of her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipple between his fingers as his hips kept her pinned beneath him.

The combination of sensations had Genie writhing beneath Ej's touch, begging for release. But EJ seemed determined to push her closer and closer to the edge without letting her fall over.

"P-Please," Genie moaned desperately, needing more friction against her sensitive clit.

"Please what?" "Please, sir!" "No. Not yet."

Trapped underneath EJ, Genie couldn't do anything but hold on for dear life. His hips picked up speed, the rhythm he'd spent what felt like forever setting had changed. He had changed. "Open that pussy up for me." He grunted, the rough and vulgar words were so different from anything he'd ever uttered to her that Genie looked back over her shoulder -- almost checking to see if this was the same man who'd been slowly seducing her for months.

Their gaze met and EJ tilted his head, wordlessly asking if she liked it. She gave him a little smile, permission to continue on. And so he did.

"I said...open." His hand pulled back from her breast and slapped her thigh. Genie spread her legs wide again, falling back against the bed. Whatever he had done had made it easier for him to dig into her and she was feeling shit anew. "That's what I'm talking about." EJ grunted, lifting a leg to plant his foot against the bed.

He pounded into Genie from behind, picking up speed. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through his body and he couldn't control the moans that escaped his lips. He had nothing on Genie. She cooed and oohed, gushed over him and burrowed her face in the sheets -- almost as if she were embarrassed of the noises he was bringing from her body. Her throat, her pussy, her thighs. They were all loud as fuck, echoing throughout his bedroom.

EJ couldn't think straight, all he could focus on was the intense pleasure coursing through his body with each movement of his hips. Her submissiveness brought it out of him. He could feel himself getting closer to the edge with every passing second and knew that neither of them wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.

"Sir!," she cried out, her voice strained as she curled up and took every thrust. "May I cum? Oh please let me. Please. I was a good girl." She begged him and that sent him damn near over the edge. He looked down at the girl of his dreams -- gripping his sheets, biting her lips, brows furrowed and dripping with sweat. He would give her anything in the fucking world. An orgasm was nothing.

"Go ahead. Cum for me," Ej grunted out, biting down on the sensitive skin of Genie's neck. It sent her over the edge. She spasmed under him, whimpering and grunting as he keep going. She squeezed at him so tightly that stars exploded behind his closed eyelids. "Jesus, fuck..." he whispered as he came hard, white heat igniting every nerve in his body.

They collapsed onto the bed together, panting heavily and still connected

You said you were done. He said he was done let it go. She told herself several times throughout the night. She had drank and donated...and did her best not to cry over the fact that she felt so very alone. She mingled some but her mind was still on him.

It didn't matter what she told Toni. Her heart wanted Jameson. She didn't know if she even be listening to the damn thing but it beat like crazy when she thought of him or saw him. He owned her in a way that made her damn near crazy. How could she let him walk away without seriously considering she'd never see him again?

She just couldn't take it anymore. She unblocked him and sent a text message. One that he didn't answer. Her heart pounded in her chest as she waited for a response. When it didn't come, she didn't get angry -- she decided she was going to have her way. They were going to figure this shit out. Imani pulled her phone from her clutch, swaying as she dialed the number. Being tipsy helped her put her pride aside.

It rang twice...and then he answered. "Hello?"

She could tell he was hesitant. Hell, she was terrified of what was going to come of it but they needed to do it. They had to get it out. "Come back and get me." She told him softly.

"I don't want to fight anymore, Mani." "We're not fighting. We're talking." "All we seem to do is fight." "And miss each other. Don't we miss me?" "...Yes." "Then get your ass up. Come get me, Daddy. Let's figure it out."

He hesitated for only a minute but then Imani heard him sigh and the sound of keys. "I'm on my way."

[darklydeliciousdesires]

I saw your requests are open! I would LOVE to see Alfie with number 8, “I want to see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.” 🥵

I’m all about dark too if you feel like it. Thank you! 😊

Can do, one order of Alfie with a large side of dark!

Warnings - Dark!Alfie & smut below the cut. Minors DNI.

The wood emits an odour of damp, the drips from the leaky pipe above it moistening the surface, adding to the overall old, musky fragrance of the cellar. Long ago, it was used for storing wines of the finest vintage, but now the space serves as something else entirely.

The leaky pipe continually drips onto the beam above, your hands and wrists wet, yet not enough for you to struggle free from your rope bindings. How many years does it take wood to rot, you wonder at times. One snapped beam would equal your freedom.

Would you truly want to leave here, though? That would of course mean leaving him.

He might be the one who keeps you in this state of torment, but imagining a life without it is perhaps bleaker than the surroundings you're held prisoner within. Who and what would you be, if not Alfie's plaything?

The sound of heavy footfalls creaking the floorboards above signals his impending appearance, the creaky cellar door opening, the lamp he carries with him finally bringing a little illumination into the darkened space.

He descends the stairs carefully, sniffing, clearing his throat, the scent of him cutting through the musk and the dust, Alfie placing the lamp down on the table.

"'Ello, poppet. Want me to let ya down for a bit, do ya?"

You nod. "Yes, sir." You used to cuss him out, spit in his face, kick him, bite him, but now you know, it all goes a lot more smoothly if you show what he demands. Obedience.

"Good. Right, come on, then. Let's get this rope untied, yeah." Reaching to the hook connected to the upright support strut, he unwinds it, the tension slowly slipping from your wrists and arms as the tightness is loosened. He only lets you go when he has use for you. Falling asleep standing up has become a talent you have mastered, although your weary bones ache for a bed.

Walking to you, he watches as you shake a little life back into your arms, your bindings still tight, the rope that once tied you to the beam above shaking gently. "Still pretty, ain't ya? Bit pale, though. Then again, I suppose ya would be for not seein' no sunshine for a couple 'a months, innit?"

His chuckle, all foreboding grit and rumbling darkness, sets your skin on edge. It's thrill laced with trepidation, an exotic, potent mix, goose pimples rising as your blood begins to run hotter, Alfie reaching for your face. His thumb skims your cupid's bow, eyes touring you as he leans in close.

He smells of rum and deviance, his breath warm where it flutters against your cheek. “I want to see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”

You know exactly how to oblige him, sinking to your knees, waiting patiently as he unfastens his trousers. You can already see the outline of his colossal erection through the black fabric swathing it, your captor pulling himself free, pumping his bulky shaft in a gold ring-adorned grip a few times before steering it to your mouth. "Open wide, love. Yeah, that's a good girl."

He shows no mercy, pushing forth between your lips, his hand fisting in your hair and making you take every last, fat inch of him. You choke him down, sucking gently to begin with, your tongue working the underside of his shaft as he slips back and forth.

The wet heat encasing him has him grunting deeply, cock twitching against your tongue. "Yeah, darlin'. You suck cock like a good'un, don't ya?" He moves faster, fucking your mouth with greater purpose, the need to spill into your throat consuming him.

It never takes too long, your mouth just too delicious an outlet for him, the thrill of knowing he's using you as nothing more than a mere toy adding to the ecstasy that rockets through him. He spurts thick and plentiful onto the back of your tongue, his cum dripping down your throat, his eyes two shards glittering at you through the low light.

It's the sight of him above you like that which burns itself into your brain, keeps you warm and lit up when the illumination is gone, when he's tied you up again and left you all alone in the dark once more.

Sometimes, it's in the darkness where we find the light. You understand only too well that Alfie's darkness is absolutely no exception.

[truths33k3r4]

(Warnings for this chapter are at the bottom of the page to keep from giving away spoilers.)

CHAPTER 8 - Deceptive Answers

Don cringed as he thoroughly sprayed down the empty trash bin, acting as if the fragrant, lavender scent would banish the acrid stench back to the pits of hades from whence it came. After the third round of air freshener, he slowly backed away from the bin with a cautious frown.

He proceeded to spray it down four more times.

Why did it have to be vomit…

As he walked to the kitchen sink he gently pulled off his latex gloves, neatly folding and placing them on the counter as he began to run the tap. After years of learning about germs and how to abolish them, he knew well that it didn’t matter if you washed them with hot or cold water. But even with this knowledge, it still brought him a slight ping of delusional comfort envisioning the hot temp burning the germs right off his hands.

That’s definitely normal.

He didn’t care all that much for the gooey sensation of the soap when it first puddles in his palms, but with a few quick scrubs, the sticky texture expanded into soft peaks of foam. The warm water mixed with the luscious suds did wonders for his dry hands. Thanks to the colder weather beginning to creep into the city, his home’s air had been stripped of its moisture. As a result, the skin of his hands and ankles cracked like the barren grounds of a scalding desert.

In other words ew.

With the last stage of washing his hands complete, drying them and folding the washcloth over the railing near the sink, Don began the trek back to his office. As he neared the doorway of the brothers’ bedroom, he paused.

Just move quickly. No big deal. Just ‘ninja’ your way around. Get to your office without attracting any unnecessary attention. Orrrr getting involved in any more emotional drama… Easy.

With a quick inhale, and his face tightened with concentration, he slowly took one silent step after the next, continuing his way down the hall past the bedroom. As he crept, little pieces of whispered conversation fluttered past his ears.

“...Lotus, what are you talking about?” 

Don instantly recognized the soothing tones of his oldest brother.

 “You are free. You made it out. We saved you. Shhhh, it’s alright.”

Don’s brows creased together as he paused to figure out what had happened to spark such concerned words from Leo. Going by what he said, the eldest wasn’t referring to Lotus being sick. The word “free” especially intrigued him. He continued to stand frozen as he leaned closer to the doorway, his curiosity now overriding the mission to get to his office.

“N-no… No, They…They’ll never go away…” A small voice cried in muffled whimpers.

Don’s mind began to process Lotus’ words one at a time; Every vowel and every fluctuation were filed into neat shelves in his brain.

Who’s “they”? Going by how we found her, she must be referring to the scientists at the lab, right? But what does that have to do with her being sick? Did those physician abominations give her something to make her ill? 

“Who, Lotus? Who won’t go away?” Leo gently whispered over Lotus’ smothered sniffles.

Don leaned closer. No verbal answer was given to Leo’s question, the silence only being filled by the frantic shuffles of sheets being pulled back and forth. 

“I.. I don’t… I don’t want to talk about it. I c-can’t.” Lotus pleaded as her voice continued to crack and splinter under the weight of whatever was haunting her mind. “I just c-can’t.”

Don’s posture physically slumped as he listened to the fear-stricken shivers of Lotus’ voice. The way her words jittered and broke in shards sounded all too familiar to him. She was so scared, but there wasn’t anything physically present that would make her react that way.

That left whatever was plaguing her to be something lurking deeper. Don couldn’t help the defensive snarl that escaped his teeth.

It has to be nightmares… That’s the most reasonable explanation for such behavior.

He knew that well, being reminded every night of the horrors he and his twin were forced through. Even though they were home. Even though they were safe. Even though it made no sense that the past has such power over the present.

And now he sees he’s not the only one.

How long was she there?...  How long did she live under the microscope of Specter’s prying eyes?

Don failed to suppress a shudder through his body as he was forcefully pushed into his own memories of the nightmare laboratory. His hands instinctively rose to cling to his shoulders, rubbing them down in an attempt at comfort. He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, willing his mind to forget all those horrific memories that plagued him, but it was all for naught.

His twin’s screams echoed in a terrible chorus that consumed all his thoughts. 

A sickly, neon green glowed through the barrel of a syringe.

His chained wrists ached and burned from being yanked through long corridors.

His terrified face looked back at him through the reflective surface of dark-tinted lenses.

His body shook violently as an electrode was pressed into the left side of his head.

His vision erupted in white static when the nurse pressed the button.

NO! STOP IT- NOW!

IT’S OVER. STOP LETTING THIS GET TO YOU.

IT’S OVER.

Don gulped down the dread and anxiety clogging his throat, burying it deeper into the places of his heart he dared never to go. The chill of his memories forced another shudder to claw its way up his spine, leaving him gripping tightly to his arms and shaking his head. His legs shivered and buckled underneath him as if the weight of his memories added to his physical mass.

It’s over. That’s enough.

Don leaned and used the wall to stabilize himself, relying on the firm surface to steady his rampant thoughts as well as his shuddering body.

Just move. One foot in front of the other. 

With a withered sigh, he pushed off the wall and continued walking, blocking out the rest of the hushed conversations escaping the bedroom.

 I can’t deal with that right now. I just can’t.

Leo’s got it. He can handle it.

With his mind completely focused on simply reaching his office, he didn’t even attempt to sneak past the bedroom. It didn’t matter if they saw him, anyway. This was one of those pesky things that he just… couldn’t fix. 

So why try when it’s a waste of time? When there are others who are far more equipped for such a task?

Soon after, he finally reached his office, carefully closing the door behind him as he walked toward his desk. With a sigh, Don flopped onto his computer chair, causing a quiet squeak to fill the compact room. He leaned into the firm cushion of his chair as the whispered hum of the computer filled his ears. For a moment, just a small moment, Don took the second of mental silence to look around his room.

His gaze immediately rose to the high school certificate hung proudly on the wall closest to his desk. He remembered how excited he was to have such an accomplishment under his belt at the young age of sixteen, rubbing it in Raph’s face with a smug grin. His twin nearly shattered the frame before Leo and Splinter intervened. 

So much has changed.

As his eyes began to wander again, he suddenly caught sight of a small, blue sticky note left underneath the frame of his certificate. Don leaned and squinted his eyes as he read,“Please remember to drink! -Leo”. 

A cozy warmth filled Don looking at the note left there by his brother. It embraced his heart and settled his mind, leaving the faint feeling of a grin growing on his face. Don turned to his desk and took a good swig from the glass of water left there since that afternoon.

His eyes continued to wander, soon catching sight of his calendar and notes posted on the wall near his door. He again squinted his eyes, and even fixed and cleaned his glasses, but that all proved to be useless. He still couldn’t read very well, and it was beginning to drive him crazy.

With an annoyed growl, Don scooted and rolled his chair closer to the wall. He would have to figure out his sight problem some other time, no matter how many sparks of dread began to pop in his stomach at the thought of his vision once again failing him.

Shaking his head to repel any more worthless memories from entering, he once again gazed at the notes neatly stacked on the wall. Most of them were just phone numbers of the “co-workers” from his job. 

But then he finally saw his calendar. And the warmth that once thrived inside him vanished instantaneously. 

Leo’s words echoed back to him as he began looking over the wrong amount of days crossed out, reminding him just how much time he had lost.

“Eighteen days.”

For eighteen days he didn’t help his family.

For eighteen days he didn’t keep up with the repairs of his home.

For eighteen days he didn’t show up to work.

For eighteen days his family tirelessly searched for him.

For eighteen days you failed them. Weeks of worry, dread, and longing plagued your family all because of your absence. Did they even have fresh food this whole time? Did they have to resort to drastic measures? Did they have heat? Did any of them sleep? 

Don crushed his head under the clutches of his tightening fingers. 

How much pain did he inflict on his family all because of his carelessness?

Don hunched over in his chair, pulling his legs up to his plastron and pressed his head onto his knee caps. He squeezed tighter and tighter until it hurt.

How could I let this happen?

Why did You put me in this family if You knew I would FAIL THEM?

He pressed his head further into his knees. His arms clung tighter around his legs. His lungs begged for oxygen that he couldn’t supply. 

“Why?...” He whispered brokenly.

Just at the moment he felt his head would burst from the pent up energy and pressure, a soft *ding* sounded from his monitor. He couldn’t recall what he had been processing on his desktop, so he slowly lifted his head from his knees, gazing over to his computer as he dropped his feet back to the floor.

Then it clicked in his brain, and he shot his legs out to propel himself off the wall to his desk. After slamming his hands against the ridge to keep from crashing into the small table, he took a millisecond to gather his completely shattered mental state so he could focus on the task at hand. 

This was something he could fix.

His fingers comfortably found their rhythm clacking on the keyboard as he finally opened the files coded into Lotus’ implant. He was surprised to see so many, at least a hundred or so lined up in neat rows. Each one was labeled similarly, with the title “SUBJECT 19- PROCEDURE #”. 

As curious as he was to begin looking deeper into those files, one in particular caught his eye, labeled two simple words:

“SUBJECT INFO”

That should be promising.~

With his mind made up, Don swerved his mouse and clicked. The file opened to reveal many different types of documents: Blood types, heartbeat readings, and many more medical related data.

If Don weren’t so disgusted by what these felons had done, he would actually be quite impressed with how well organized all the information was. 

He pushed that feeling aside as he continued scrolling.

“MEDICAL HISTORY”...

“DIAGNOSES”...

“TREATMENT PLANS”...

Holy French Toast there’s SO MUCH… I’m gonna need weeks just to go through this all!

“MEDICATIONS”...

“TEST RESULTS”...

“PROGRESS NOTES”...

Down, down, he continued searching through them, just trying to find the end of the treasure trove of knowledge about his family’s new guest.

“IMAGING AND DIAGNOSTIC REPORTS”...

“IMMUNIZATION RECORDS”...

And then his cursor finally stopped. And at the very bottom of the list lied what he was searching for:

“VITAL RECORDS”

There you are.

Don clicked the file as he hunched closer to his monitor, the feelings of anticipation and dread filling him as he wondered what he was going to find. Lotus would finally get some semblance of answers about her past now. And from what he’d seen of the wounded girl, he knew she needed some good news.

The first document to pop up on his screen was a newspaper clipping.

What? 

The article showcased some kind of vehicle, flipped over and ablaze on the side of a dirt-paved road. All the dates on the paper were crossed out, as well as the last names of anyone involved. The cover read in bold letters,

“FAMILY OF FIVE KILLED IN UNFORTUNATE CRASH”

Don’s head cocked in utter confusion as he began reading through the article. He began clicking his tongue as all his concentration zeroed in on every word of the story before him. 

Somehow this connected to Lotus. And he was going to find out how.

The article stated that during a particularly rainy, spring night, a family of five, (husband, wife, and three children), slid off the road and flipped their car over. When help finally arrived, as well as the Press, the car was being swallowed by unrelenting flames. Only two bodies were retrieved, that of the husband and wife. Their names were Frederick and Jess, but their last name was crossed out. 

All that was left of their two toddlers and baby were scorched car seats. 

Don backed away from his monitor in horror, covering his eyes with his hand and sliding it down to his chin. The images of the husband and wife’s bodies hidden under sheets made his stomach tighten with sorrow. He squirmed in his seat, both guilty and grateful that he had never seen or heard anything about this tragedy.

All it took… was one thing to go wrong.

… And then… everything was gone. Everything. That poor family…

The rest of the article continued on to review the woe of their family’s relatives, as well as the following funeral that would occur at a later date. (A later date that was meticulously scratched out to be indecipherable.) 

Why is this in her records?...

After finishing reading through the article, he moved on to the next document in the file:

A birth certificate.

Don muttered an annoyed growl as he noticed that this document had been thoroughly crossed out too, with the only things left reading:

Alexis?... Is that Lotus’ birth name?... But… this is an official document by the State of New York- 

A human certificate.

Don’s brain whirled all this new information around his mind like an indecisive tornado. Nothing was making sense. No puzzle pieces were lining up. How could he be given so much information and none of it is useful?!? Here he thought those psychos with medical degrees were organized and thorough in their research- Here he thought he was finally given a buffet of answers ready to be feasted upon at a moment’s notice. How wrong he was to think this would be easy.

If he’s learned anything in his sixteen years of being a teenage mutant ninja turtle, it was the fact that easy never seemed to be an option.

His shoulders fell as he let out a sigh filled with disappointment. None of this would make Lotus feel better… If anything, it could make things worse. 

If these documents are true… 

Don pushed away from his desk, dropping his head onto the rim of his chair as the weight of the answers given to him pressed further into his mind. His chest ached and his head spun with the implications of the documents.

Was Lotus born as an actual human? 

Did she truly once have a family? 

And how did the newspaper article connect to this?

Was she in that crash? Did she escape the fire? 

Instead of clicking into place and revealing the steadfast truth, all that these answers had done was scatter the pieces of this mystery further apart, deepening the chasm that remained of Lotus’ past.

That's it for this chapter!! And now all of you get to really see the base mystery of my story. :) Hopefully these small pieces of the past will help you theorize what you think happened to Lotus and who you think she is. :) I was ECSTATIC to show you all this chapter. I'm honestly quite proud of how it came out, and I am so excited to delve deeper into the mystery of Lotus' past.

Feel free to reblog and share this!

BIG THANK YOU to @poetique823 for helping me and encouraging me through this chapter! Also apologies for uh... breaking you. XD

@writer-in-wonder, @allyheart707, @oddartistl3, @risebabyx2, @joyjoygorl, @carrots-bear, @howtotrainyourdragonprince, @jasminegazer, @indieyuugure

If you want to be tagged in the next chapter, please comment down below! :)

To God be the glory!

~ Melissa

(CW- Implied past deaths, trauma, mention of medical trauma!)

MASTERPOST <- PRIOR CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ->

[starmaniamania]

just wondering, what's your honest opinion on the Starmania fandom ?

[This got long and I apologize, but also I'm not going to cut for once, because the main points are really at the end!]

Hi!

I've been thinking about this one, I think it arrived just before the last weekend of shows and I didn't really know how to answer it.

Firstly because I don't know how to define "fandom" here, as "Starmania fandom" seems so big and also so small at the same time.

There's thousands of people in France who'd probably define themselves as fans of Starmania, and I've met some of them in concert venues and my opinion of them is often not amazing 🤣 (Lots of people who are rude, impatient, entitled, who missed or forgot the message of the show and complain it is "too woke now," who try to treat the show as their personal nostalgic karaoke, who don't care about the artists on stage and only want to compare them to their 70s albums...) But to be fair it's probably true of most large groups of people who attend a show, and not specific to Starmania at all. I'm also annoyed at the people who believe that 1978 is SACRED and "No one will ever sing the SOS better than Balavoine or Monopolis better than France Gall" (who didn't even sing that w- that's a hot take for a DIFFERENT TIME🤣)

And need I mention the Mogador fanatics? 😅

But simultaneously, Starmania fandom as I've usually defined "fandom" (i.e., a community of fans who want to create, appreciate and discuss fanworks, whether that is meta, art, fic...) is TIIIINY. But it is a bunch of incredibly creative, talented, smart, funny people who I love a whole lot!

Honestly, my biggest "hot take" about Starmania fandom in the Tumblr/fanworks sense is the reason I've been going back and forth on how to answer this, because I don't want it to be taken the wrong way, but here goes... The truth is that I'm a little scared.

I see a lot of posts on wider Tumblr about how nowadays people move on from fandoms the second they end (usually talking about movies or tv shows.) The last episodes air, and a few weeks later the fandom suddenly dies because the critical mass of participants lose interest/find another new shiny object to focus on. This is usually paired with a comparison to "the olden days" when fandoms could survive for years after their canon was over, because enough fans kept producing enough new fanworks and having enough discussions to keep the thing alive even if a small-medium proportion of fans moved on.

And I worry that there's not enough of us to be able to do that, because we don't really have critical mass. For me personally, I worry that too many people are going to move on much sooner than I'm ready to let go (because I'm definitely not going anywhere for a while!), and that I'll go back to posting into the void.

I posted recently that this blog had reached its 100th follower but I consider a "hit" post to be around or over 8 notes. I think on AO3, we have 7 people who write semi-regularly, and the fics with the most kudos have 10. Those are starvation numbers in basically any other fandom, and they're our MOST POPULAR ones!! And it's not like we have, you know, that one author who just writes all day as a hobby and churns out 30k fics every other week, where everyone can just sit back and feel confident that new stuff is going to be coming no matter what.

(And that's why sometimes if I notice people discussing a fic in private, I'm like... I hope everyone involved in that discussion has let the author know they read the fic, because that could basically double the amount of feedback it got 😅😅)

So, yeah, basically, I just really hope that we collectively manage to support ourselves enough that it keeps feeling like a community, that it keeps living and maybe even growing. And that means everyone doing their share, me included, I'm definitely not saying I'm perfect here :p

And I know we all have busy lives and other things to do and fandom is a fun hobby and not a chore or homework. I'm not saying everyone needs to start making fanart (god knows I can't) or writing fic or posting essays or whatever, but let's make sure we interact with each other, with our fanworks, with discussion posts. Let's reply to each other!

And again, speaking personally (I hope this doesn't make it seem like I'm just using this post to whine haha) let's make sure to reblog, not just like posts. (FYI, it always takes me a little while to get to the posts I see, usually because I don't want to spam so I put things in the queue rather than rebloging them on sight, but they're going to come out eventually! Also feel free to send me things you think I missed!)

I'm not going to go into a(nother) rant about how "there is no algorithm on Tumblr" but you might not realize that every time someone reblogs one of the posts, I then see new usernames liking them! You guys have such an impact on spreading the Starmania lore/love -- I know I've gone into so many fandoms because I kept seeing a mutual post about them, and I would scroll past for weeks until one image hit me and I then *needed* to know where it was from, and sometimes that's how I found new fandoms!

So, yeah, I hope we can collectively bring in a few new people, and keep ourselves interested and happy for long enough that maybe we even bridge the "pause" and start getting new content again!!

So that's my answer. Congrats if you made it to the end, and tl;dr ILU ALL DON'T LEAVE OKAY? 😭

[fandomshifter]

COME WHAT MAY, I WILL LOVE YOU UNTILL MY DYING DAY

[ Ford x Reader - Set during season 2 ]

[ Hey guys, I started this fanfic not knowing if I'm going to finish it and posted it on an alt account, but I thought u would be better off posting here! I'm going to try to finish it or write one-shots instead, but unfortunately, I do go back to college in 2 weeks, meaning I won't be posting a lot again! Hope you enjoy this chapter!! ]

CHAPTER 1

When I get back, I'll lay around

Then I'll get up and lay back down

Romanticize a quiet life

There's no place like my room - I know the end

Gravity Falls, Oregon. A small hidden town surrounded by dense woods, with little to no information surrounding it. It's the perfect place for introverts who hate social interaction.

That's what you keep telling yourself every day you wake up. Light filtered through your blinds as you lay there staring at the ceiling. Today is another day. Taking a deep breath, you sit up and run your hands down your face before throwing off your duvet.

"Let's fucking go." You mumble to yourself. You finally get off your bed and start to get ready, grabbing clothes and a towel. It's always good to start a Monday morning with a nice shower.

You slowly trudge to the bathroom, clothes and towel in hand. The bathroom was quite small, a couple of patterned rugs covering the floor. Most of them had patches of bleach and hair dye staining them from your teen years. You place your clothes down on a chest of draws you have in the corner of the room and turn the shower on.

It takes a while for it to finally heat up, but when it does, you jump in and let out a sigh at the feeling. You take your time washing your hair and cleaning yourself, making sure you clean every spot before getting out and wrapping a towel around you. Now it's time for the fun bit. But first, you quickly run to your room to grab your phone before running back to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You scroll through songs, deciding on what to play while you get ready, before you remember the supernatural episode you watched last night, and it was decided.

'Heat Of the Moment' by Asia starts playing, and you place your phone down out of the way.

You start brushing out your hair and put it out of the way so it can dry for a while. Next underwear, you put them on, your slightly damp skin making it harder for you to put your bra on. But you manage with a bit of effort. You carry on your routine, taking time to do each stage. The last thing you do is put your clothes on. Some dark orange flared jeans with flowers embroidered on the side of the pants leg and a black top shaped like a butterfly. You pick out some jewellery such as necklaces, rings, and earrings. Taking a quick look in the mirror at your facial piercings, you decided not to change them today.

You fix your hair up how you like it, grab your phone, and make your way downstairs. It was about 8:00 in the morning, which means you had at least 30 minutes left to get to work. Mabel had offered to make breakfast for you before your shift started, and you could never say no to her. So you walk past your kitchen and go towards a cupboard in the living room, which stores your bags, jackets, and shoes. Today, you wanted to wear something comfy on your feet in case Dipper dragged you on another expedition or you needed to save the twins....again. Worn in doc Martins, it is then! You grabbed them along with a brown leather jacket and a satchel with all your important things. Your important things included a journal you kept notes in, several pens and pencils, money and so on and so forth. It had taken 10 minutes to get your last few things sorted before you made your way out the door, locking it behind you.

You liked the woods, they where peaceful ( most of the time ). It was things like this that made you walk instead of drive to work. The scenery was so beautiful that sometimes you wondered why so many scary and terrifying creatures lived here. You softly hummed as you walked towards the mystery shack, the album 'Wasting Light' playing in your ears. It was a short-lived walk because of your fast pace, because soon the mystery shack came into view. Despite the fact that the whole shack was a fraud, it brings a smile to your face every time you see it.

You see a face peek at you through the window, and the next thing you know, you're on the floor with a child wrapped around you.

"Who gave you coffee this morning ?" You ask with a laugh, as you practically rip Mabel off you.

She shrugs, "I'm just very excited you took up my breakfast offer." Her eyes have a sparkle in them, and she offers her hand out to help you up. You accept her help and stand up, dusting your trousers off.

"Loving the sweater today, Mabel, I'm still waiting for you to make me one." You say poking her shoulder jokingly. She laughs and salutes, "I'm on it, also your top is soooo COOL!" She says as she skips her way through the door to the shack.

"Did you like fairies when you were younger? You seem like you did from your outfits ?" She questions, you let out a snort and nod your head,

"Mermaids & faries but only in the Barbie movies." Mabel starts frantically asking questions about Barbie movies. You try to keep up, but she is talking way too fast for your brain. You have fast talking & then you have Mabel.

"Morning, Kid." Stan says, giving you a nod. He's sat at the dining table, reading the newspaper with a coffee next to him. Dipper is reading the Journal, like usual. You give him a pat on the shoulder, and he mumbles a small 'hello'.

"You still trying to find the author, or is it something different this time ?" Stan groans, "Don't encourage him kid please, he already summoned the dead last week cause he wanted to 'prove something'." You let out a small chuckle, and Dipper rolls his eyes.

Mabel has already started making breakfast when you go back to talk to her.

"Dipper seems a bit stressed, doesn't he ?" You whisper to Mabel. She looks at you and nods.

"Ever since that incident with Bill, he's been having nightmares, I really worry about him." She says sadly. These 12 year olds have been through it.

"Wait... Did you say Bill ?" You ask eyebrows furrowing together. Mabel looks at you confused, "Yeahh ? Why, you know about him or something ?"

"No,no... I just read the pages about him in the journal." You say quickly. She looks you up and down before shrugging.

"Anyway, do you need some help ?" She shakes her head, and you go sit at the table with Stan and Dipper.

You take your journal out of your bag and start finishing off some notes you took yesterday on your 'solo mission' as you like to call it. Dipper looks over at your journal, and you can tell he's reading it, so you slide the book over to him. Stan looks between the two of you, then at you, "Not you too, I thought you were just the babysitter." He jokes.

When you first joined back at the Mystery Shack, you helped out around the place, making new things and cleaning up. Now it's more like, make sure the kids don't get hurt or die, because they are doing something stupid like fighting wax figures or time travelling. Stan doesn't know about any of this, of course, but you like to think that's the role you take on. The babysitter.

After a few minutes, Mabel starts placing plates of pancakes in front of everyone.

"Wow, and you didn't set the alarm off, i would have when i was your age." You say honestly, and Stan elbows you slightly, and you both let out a small laugh.

"So what are we doing today then, guys ?" You ask, looking between the twins as you eat your pancakes. Mabel and Dipper look at each other, then look at Stan, who is too busy eating to acknowledge them, then finally look at you.

"What do you want to do Y/N ?" Dipper asks. Your eyes widden.

What. WHY ARE THEY ASKING YOU, YOU'RE INDECISIVE!!

"I don't actually know." You say calmly, "I have an idea tho if it's okay with your grunkle." At the word 'Grunkle' Stan looks up.

"What ?" He says, looking between all 3 of us.

"Can I take the kids out for a very safe and very fun adventure orrr ?" You ask looking at him. He squints his eyes at you while thinking.

"Sure, I don't see why not, I trust you after all." He says with a smile. "But I want them back before dinner." You and kids nod at him.

The 3 of you quickly finish your food and clean the dishes before making your way to the woods.

"WAIT!" Mabel yells before rushing back inside the Mystery shack. She runs out about a minute later with 2 backpacks in her clutches. "Here you go, Dipper, adventure packs!" She exclaims before putting her backpack on. Dipper does the same before mumbling, 'Why didn't I think of these?''

"Right, let's go!" You say, leading the twins into the woods.

"Okay, so I brought you out here because I saw something the other day, and I really didn't think it was real at first, so I thought you guys should see it too." You say as you step over a couple of big roots.

"What was it, is it something from the Journal ?" Dipper questions as he holds back a branch for Mabel to get past.

"Well, it's not from yours, but it's from mine. See, I have had this journal since I was little, and I could write. I re-wrote some of the old things in this new journal, and the thing I saw was something from years back." You explain, the twins nod. Mabel then squeals at the sight of something.

"What is it ?" You and Dipper say in unison.

"ITS A CAT!" She whisper yells. You make a face that makes Mabel grab you by the sleeve of your jacket and pull you to where she was.

"Look there!" She says, pointing through some bushes. She was right. There was a cat just laying right there. You look at Mabel then Dipper, who's just as confused as you.

"I'm taking it home with me." You say before stepping through the bush.

"Wait, it could be a trap!" Dipper yells, you turn and put your hands on your hips, "how is a sleeping cat a trap ?" He let's out huff, and you turn back around to face that cat.

"Hello, kitty." You whisper. You notice a note next to the cat, and you pick up the note, along with the cat, who seems quite content with being slung onto your shoulder.

"My house isn't far from here, so we can put the cat there and continue trying to find the thing I wanna show you, or we can watch a film and eat junk food ?" You ask. You wanted to show the twins this thing, but kids need to be kids, so you gave them the option.

"Junk food!!" Mabel yells, you turn to look at Dipper, and he has a smile on his face.

"What movies have you got ?"

Once you made it back to your house, you rang up Stan and asked if he wanted to join you. He asked why you weren't out adventuring, and you explained the cat, whose name you found out was Misty. Grunkle Stan said he would bring movie supplies, which meant more snacks.

While you were waiting for Stan you set out what you had at your house. The kids were sat on the sofa, Mabel, with the cat in her lap.

"Did the note say anything else ?" Dipper asks as he puts his hand out for the cat to sniff before patting its little head.

"Yeah, it says she has a problem with her nasal passage. Basically, she has a blocked nose constantly, but it doesn't harm her or anything."

You say,

"Ahhhh, explains why she is so snotty." Mabel giggles. "Are you going to keep her ?" She asks. You roll your eyes at her, "Of course I'm keeping her, finders keepers." The twins giggle at that,

and so do you.

Stan finally shows up for the movie, bringing Wendy and soos. The more the merrier! You sit down on your chair while the others take up the sofa and bean bags you brought down.

"So what are we watching ?" Stan asks.

"Well, I'm a sucker for making people watch classic movies. It's what my parents did with me, so I settled on Bill & Ted's excellent adventure." Stan chuckles at your reply,

"Good pick, kid."

"What can I say? My parents gave me good taste in movies and music." You say with a laugh as you play the movie.

You guys ended up watching both movies, and you think you gave Mabel a new boy crush. Woops! At least she doesn't live you, so it won't be you dealing with it. It's late by the time you guys finish both movies.

"Wanna do movie day again ?" You ask the twins,

"Yes, definitely absolutely!" Mabel replies, before giving you a hug and rushing to Stans car.

"What about you, Dipper ? I think it would be good for you, have a break from adventures, you are 12 after all." He looks up at you and nods his head. You pat his head, and he goes to the car with soos and Wendy.

"Thanks for all this today, I really appreciate it, kid." Stan says, you let out a small laugh.

"I will never understand why you call me kid. I'm 34, but you're welcome. I'm more than happy to do it again, friend." He let's out a huffed laugh before heading to his car.

[beomgyuslilracha]

the ceo's son ✧.* [ pt. 8 ]

⊹ pairing: choi soobin x f! reader

⊹ genre: strangers to friends to lovers

⊹ warnings: none! just a lot of fluff <3

⊹ wc: 6.1k

summary: you've been an intern at c company for roughly over four months now - directly under the ceo as his assistant. everything was going perfectly: you were saving up money to attend uni next year, and you knew that you were under the ceo's good graces to receive a great recommendation when the time came! in fact, he took a liking to you so much that he'd often joke that he wanted to set you up with his son. at least ... you thought it was a joke.

once he returned back to campus, soobin was to be found ditching his classes - despite insisting that he needed to make it back in time - and pacing back and forth in his dorm's living area.

after a brief cry for help from him in the group chat, all four of his friends skipped their own schedules and were now seated on the couch, watching soobin slowly dissolve into complete madness.

"what am i supposed to even say to her?!" soobin asked to no one in particular, running his hands through his hair stressfully.

"uhh, how about 'hey y/n, i like you'?" taehyun offered simply, shrugging as if the matter weren't that big of a deal.

although it may have appeared that way from an outside perspective, soobin personally felt that this was a life or death situation that could seriously cost him everything he had.

the 'everything' in question being his relationship with you.

"no, no, i need something bigger. i need to really...," soobin's thought trailed off as he began looking all around the room, praying for some sort of answer to magically appear in the air. he groaned again in frustration, slowly dropping his entire body to lay sprawled out on the floor.

the confidence he had earlier in the day was long gone now.

"alright, how about this," yeonjun spoke next, scooting forward on the couch to get a better look at his defeated friend. "why don't you take her to lotte world or something?"

soobin perked his head up at the idea, intrigued. "lotte world?"

"ooh, that's actually a really good idea," kai agreed excitedly, his eyes growing wide at the mere mention. "can we go too?"

"do you have plans to confess to someone?" yeonjun teasingly asked the younger boy, shaking his head.

ignoring the little bickering that then occurred between them, soobin sat up and began to think seriously about yeonjun's idea. he knew it would definitely be a lot of fun, and it excited him just to picture experiencing the theme park all over again with you by his side.

and if you agreed to his confession by the end of the night??

he would have to thank yeonjun and lotte world itself for the rest of his life.

"ooh, you know what, you should confess on the moonboat," beomgyu chimed in suddenly, gasping loudly and praising himself for being the one to offer the best idea between them.

"ahh, but you have to do it at night so that it looks romantic," kai cooed now, turning from yeonjun and getting himself excited all over again at the idea of soobin confessing to you in such a cute way.

soobin was practically about to pull out a pen and notepad, wanting to be sure he jotted down an entire plan to lead up to the final moment on the moonboat that evening.

he wanted every second to be perfect with you, and the last thing he wanted was to go without a plan and risk messing it all up on such an important moment. whether it was important to you would still be unknown, but right now it meant everything to him.

"what should i do there first? do you think she'll like the rollercoasters?" soobin questioned them in a panic, every ride in the park running through his mind as he wondered which ones you'd enjoy and which he should avoid.

"how are we supposed to know? we don't know her," taehyun reminded him, unable to help himself from laughing.

soobin did feel bad for having yet to introduce you to his friends, especially after having told you that he would, but he now figured it'd be better this way. if everything worked out, he'd be able to happily introduce you as his girlfriend rather than just a friend.

his girlfriend... his girlfriend!!!

soobin was practically getting giggly just from thinking the words in his mind, he could only imagine passing away completely if they were to actually come true before the end of the night.

he had to use his own hands to press his cheeks together, forcing himself to stop smiling like an idiot in front of his friends. not that they didn't already notice, seeing as he was sitting right in front of them.

though neither of them would dare say it out loud, each of them were truly happy for their lovesick friend.

"wait, wait, hold on," yeonjun stopped their conversation after a while, a sudden thought occurring to him. "soobin, what was she wearing?"

"what the hell, you pervert?" beomgyu interrupted, smacking yeonjun with one of the pillows beside them - this quickly earned disgusted looks followed by the rest of the boys.

"no, i don't mean like that, dumbass!" yeonjun scolded him, yanking the pillow out of beomgyu's hands and attacking him twice as hard in retaliation. "i meant was it comfortable that she could wear to lotte world straight from work?"

soobin's lips formed into a cute 'o' shape in realization, picturing the work attire you were dressed in today. turns out yeonjun did have a point and was not trying to be dirty-minded; he didn't think your clothes would be suitable for an exciting evening at an amusement park.

"so what? should i take her home first or meet her there?" soobin questioned now, worried about having to push his plans with you back slightly.

"i know you don't want to lose precious time with your girlfriend, so you could offer to take her home first if she's comfortable with it," taehyun suggested.

soobin nodded, not even bothering to deny his words - especially considering it was half true and half (hopefully) soon-to-be true.

"wait, should i tell her now or do i surprise her when i pick her up?" soobin asked next, his eyes shifting between all of their expressions for an answer.

yeonjun seemed to be the only one rolling his eyes. soobin was one question away from practically asking them to handle the entire night for him.

"i think it'd be cute to surprise her! she'll be so excited and you'll get to see how happy she gets," kai cheered, even wiggling his fists in a cute gesture.

beomgyu was quick to agree with kai, but more so on the terms that you'd be supposedly impressed by soobin taking charge and making the plans in front of you rather than asking for permission.

"i'm not sure, i think she should know beforehand to have time to prepare," taehyun countered, thinking logically and being the only one to actually take you into consideration rather than just soobin. "besides, if she says no, it'll be better for her to say so now rather than to his face."

surprisingly, yeonjun agreed with taehyun in this case. he also thought it would be unfair to you to have no say in the decision and be caught off guard.

with the votes now being split 50/50, this turned the predicament back entirely onto soobin's shoulders.

slumping back to the ground in defeat, soobin began to think over which would be the best option when it came to you.

he wanted to surprise you and impress you, for sure, but he also didn't want to do so at the risk of upsetting you for not having any say in what he had planned.

this night was going to mean so much to him, he didn't want to risk screwing it up before it could even start.

・❥・

you sat at mr. jeong's desk, spinning around in his chair from boredom, waiting for the two men to eventually return from an afternoon meeting they were required to attend outside the office.

while you waited, you figured it wouldn't hurt to pull out your phone for a quick minute to occupy yourself for the time being.

surprisingly, you ended up receiving a vague message from soobin just as you had unlocked the screen.

binnie <;3: by any chance, do you like surprises?

you: mmm that depends

you: i like nice surprises but i hate scary ones

binnie <;3: noted!

binnie <;3: see you after work <3

your heart flipped in its own response as his last message came through, though making you feel ridiculous for reacting at something as small as a text heart.

it wouldn't even be the first time that either of you sent a heart to each other, but it still managed to make you giddy every single time.

after a second, it then dawned on you that soobin was clearly intending to surprise you with something after work. could it be a gift that made him think of you? was he going to bring someone along with him to meet you? did he simply just have good news to share??

there was an endless list of possibilities that you were going to end up driving yourself mad if you continued to think about it any longer.

you sighed to yourself, realizing you should have just lied and said you didn't like surprises - at least that way you could know what to expect already instead of thinking about it all day now.

what made it worse was that you wouldn't have anything to work on until mr. choi came back, leaving you with nothing else to do except think about the supposed surprise he could have planned.

you debated on messaging soobin back to forgo everything you just said earlier and to tell you what he was planning, but you were able to talk yourself out of it.

and by 'talk yourself out of it', you really just meant that mr. jeong's timing of walking back into the office forced you to hide your phone before you could do it.

at least it worked out for the better, seeing as you were finally given more work to distract yourself and it allowed for soobin to keep whatever his surprise was to himself.

by the time you were finished for the day, the thought of the surprise had actually been pushed completely out of your mind.

at least, up until you were leaving mr. choi's office and was suddenly grasped from the side - with a large hand quickly covering your mouth to muffle the yelp that you had let out in fear.

"shhh, it's okay, it's just me!" soobin's voice whispered in your ear, waiting until he felt your body relax in his hold before letting you go.

before saying anything, you first turned around and began smacking the idiot on the arm for doing something so stupid. "you do not do that to a woman, choi soobin, what is wrong with you??"

"ahhh, i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry," soobin whined, grasping at his arm and cowering away from you playfully until you finally stopped hitting him.

not that you hitting him affected him any - in fact, he hardly even felt it - but man did he think you looked adorable anyway, so he enjoyed playing along.

"what are you even doing up here?" you scolded him next, glancing back at the closed doors of his father's office, worried about being caught alone by the man.

"i wanted to see you," soobin whispered simply, catching your eye and flashing his dimples when he saw your cheeks turn a cute shade of pink.

you rolled your eyes and scoffed, turning away from him entirely in a failed attempt to hide how badly you started blushing immediately afterwards.

what was with him today?

"come on, dork," you told him, pressing the button for the elevator quickly so that the two of you wouldn't dwell any longer and risk mr. choi exiting his office to see you both together.

now although mr. choi may have remained a little clueless about his son and intern, neither of you would have ever guessed that a certain assistant had full access to the security cameras.

a silent cupid, if you will.

"so?"

soobin looked down at you, tilting his head in confusion. "so what?"

so what? did he ... not remember?

furrowing your eyebrows together and forming your lips into a pout, you suddenly started to wonder if you had misunderstood the idea about soobin's mention of a surprise.

unless ... oh! unless him showing up to scare the hell out of you was actually the surprise!

well, in that case, he failed miserably on taking note of how you felt about scary surprises.

"sorry, nevermind, i thought there was going to be a different surprise," you shrugged, though feeling secretly disappointed.

it was your own fault, though, considering you raised your own expectations on such a vague message. the cute boy just wanted to see you and there you were, making yourself sad because you wanted more.

"but i haven't told you the surprise yet?"

your entire demeanor perked up, looking up to meet soobin's eyes with a giant smile you couldn't even suppress if you tried. "you haven't?" you echoed excitedly, bouncing slightly on your toes.

you were beginning to make it extremely difficult for soobin to keep himself together when you looked this cute. it was taking everything in him to not throw his entire plan for the evening out the window and just confess to you right there in the elevator of his father's company.

"nope, i'm waiting until we get outside," he told you, making your heart leap from eagerness now.

the second the elevator doors opened to the lobby, you grabbed ahold of soobin's hand and practically raced to the exit doors while pulling him in tow. you just couldn't wait any longer!

"okay, now tell me, tell me, tell me!" you chanted excitedly, bouncing up and down once the two of you made it out the doors and onto the pavement sidewalk.

"i just want to say that you are welcome to say no if you're not comfortable, okay?" soobin first disclaimed, heeding taehyun's advice from earlier about making sure you were completely okay with what he had planned.

you brought your excited bouncing to a halt, now being a little cautious about what soobin may have had in mind.

after earning a simple nod from you, soobin took a deep breath and finally came right out with it. "would- would you want ... to go to lotte world with me ... tonight?"

well, he sort of came right out with it.

stunned, your mouth gaped open and your eyes widened. after a brief recovery, you squealed excitedly and jumped up for soobin to catch you in his arms as you engulfed him in a hug. "yes, yes, oh my God! it's going to be so much fun!"

if he was being honest, soobin barely heard what you just said. all he knew was that you were excited and you were in his arms in the absolute best way possible.

had you not slowly pulled away to signal for him to put you down, he was pretty sure it would've been impossible for anyone else to get him to let you go.

he didn't know exactly what it was, but he knew that you belonged in his arms. it felt perfect; it felt right. his arms were meant to hold you and you alone.

"is that okay?"

soobin suddenly shook his head to focus back into reality and not in his daydreams, allowing him to realize he had to have missed something you just said. "what was that?"

puffing air through your nose in amusement, you repeated your question. "i asked if we could stop by my apartment first so i can change?"

"oh, of course, yeah!" soobin quickly agreed.

it was all part of the plan anyway, so it worked out that you suggested the idea before he could.

・❥・

arriving to your apartment for the second time, it was going to be the first time that soobin would get to see the inside for himself.

he knew you lived with your best friend as your roommate, but he was still eager to see all the details that resembled you all over the place. he could imagine that the cutest things would belong to you. or maybe you had a homier vibe that radiated warmth and comfort instead. unless you liked a more minimalist type of style that wasn't very showy.

regardless, he was chewing on his bottom lip excitedly behind you as you were searching for your key to unlock the door.

once you finally opened the door, soobin was first greeted by the appearance and general smell of a clean apartment. there was some sort of floral fragrance in the air, and it took only a second for him to spot the open candle at the dining table.

first impression alone had soobin feeling ashamed for ever taking you anywhere near the filthy hole he had to call a dorm.

"make yourself at home! just give me one second to change, okay?" you told soobin after handing him the guest house slippers, quickly taking off your own shoes and rushing to your room to change.

it took only a second for soobin to drive himself crazy with how cute you were, all from glancing down at the little bunny design on the guest slippers.

he wondered if he should invest in house slippers solely meant for you back at his dorm...

finally walking further into the apartment, soobin was practically creating a mental shopping list of things he wanted to get for you back at his dorm. he already included the house slippers, candles, a fuzzy throw blanket similar to the one that he found neatly folded on your couch, and was even heavily considering getting you your own mug for the kitchen.

it took him a second too long to remind himself that you two were still just friends at this moment, so it was completely insane for him to start practically moving you two in together.

but still ... he wanted you to at least visit more often.

there was still a movie that needed to be finished as well, which soobin would be sure to remind you of later.

as he continued to wait for you, soobin then found himself in front of a shelf full of picture frames. some were of, who he assumed to be, your roommate, but he instantly caught sight of the ones with your adorable smiling face.

he picked up a certain frame that consisted of you as a child, smiling and laughing about whatever it may have been back then, and never did he expect you to look even cuter than you do now.

taking a quick glance behind him to ensure you weren't coming back, soobin pulled out his phone and took a picture to save for himself. he then got carried away snapping more pictures of you from each frame.

so carried away, in fact, that he took no notice of the new presence that had entered the room.

"what the hell are you doing?"

soobin jumped in fear, letting out a small scream from having been shocked unexpectedly - especially from being caught red-handed. turning around, his entire face turned beet red when he realized that it wasn't even you that had caught him.

chaewon lifted up an accusing brow, her arms crossed as she eyed the creep who still held a photo of you in his hands.

she recognized him to be that soobin guy from the night before, but she had no reason to understand why the hell he was standing in her apartment taking creepy shots of your pictures.

"i- i'm ... i was just-," soobin stuttered, his gaze shifting between chaewon, his phone, and the picture frame still in his hands.

rolling her eyes, chaewon walked over to the creep and casually pulled the frame out of his grasp to place back onto the shelf. despite him being practically an entire foot taller, she found it incredibly hilarious that he was acting so nervous and shy.

"so you're soobin, huh?" she asked him rhetorically, since she knew full well who he was, taking a few steps back to get a better look at him up close.

thinking back to how you described him to her, he did appear to give off an aura of a gentle giant. chaewon felt better that she didn't get any bad vibes from him, or else she would have kicked him out then and there without a second thought.

"yes, i'm choi soobin. i'm friends with y/n," soobin quickly introduced himself, bowing way too formally.

considering chaewon was your best friend, he was incredibly desperate to make a good impression on her. it did not help, however, the situation that she caught him in.

"calm down, i'm not interviewing you," chaewon laughed, now understanding what you meant every time you had referred to him as your 'cute dork'.

"right, sorry," soobin found himself apologizing, feeling all the more nervous.

could you hear him silently screaming for help?

if you did catch his telepathic waves, you ignored it.

you were too busy practically having a panic attack in your bedroom trying to figure out something to wear. this was practically a date, so you needed to dress cute, but you also needed it to be something practical for an amusement park.

curse the cute boy for doing this to you!!

"so you're the one whose crazy father is trying to set you guys up together?" chaewon quizzed him suddenly, crossing her arms and causing soobin to find her all the more intimidating.

"yes, well-"

"and you're the one who let your friends message her and ignore her the other day?" chaewon interrupted with another question, smirking as the boy in front of her was about to panic.

"well, yes, but i didn't-"

"and you're also the one who's secretly in love with her?"

"yes, but i'm-"

this time, it was soobin who cut himself off. both his and chaewon's eyes widened twice their normal size, surprised at how easily it came to him to answer.

chaewon just wanted to watch him stutter like an idiot for an answer, she didn't expect him to say yes right away!

"but you're what?" chaewon urged him to finish, genuinely curious as to what the end of that sentence was going to be.

still blushing profusely, soobin took a quick glance towards your bedroom door one more time. either to ensure you weren't on your way out or to silently scream for your help, he couldn't be sure.

"but i'm ... i'm confessing tonight," soobin finally mumbled, his eyes quickly averting down to his fidgeting hands in embarrassment. he couldn't believe he was admitting this to your best friend right now.

chaewon gasped in a delighted surprise, throwing her entire intimidating demeanor from a second ago out the window. "you are? oh my God, that's so great! she's going to be so happy!"

if she was being honest, she didn't even realize that she had just casually exposed your own feelings to the boy without even thinking about it. hearing that the boy you were crushing on felt the same for you just made her so excited!!

lucky for her, though, it was still subtle enough that he didn't even manage to catch on to her words.

"do you think she'll say yes?" soobin asked her, desperation laced in his voice as he looked at your best friend expectantly for a response.

if anyone would know what to expect from you, it would be her.

smirking now, chaewon glanced over to see that your bedroom door was slowly beginning to open. "let's put it this way, lover boy. i don't know all about you just because i'm a good guesser," she told him in a low voice, taking her leave to walk towards the kitchen once you finally stepped out.

"hey, cutie, where are you going?" chaewon called out to you playfully from her new place in front of the kitchen counter.

"soobin's taking me to lotte world!" you answered her cheerfully, practically skipping over to stand beside soobin and wrap your hands around his arm.

"ooh, lotte world? sounds like fun~," she commented, secretly biting her tongue to prevent herself from making any remarks that would hint at soobin's plan for the night.

she already couldn't wait for you to come back so she could hear every single detail.

"so you're ready?" soobin asked you, looking down and noticing your change of clothes.

you nodded excitedly, dragging him along with you out of the apartment after bidding a rushed goodbye to chaewon. you were so happy to be going with soobin that you didn't want to waste a single second on your way.

in contrast to your usual way of traveling, this time you and soobin would take the subway in order to reach lotte world much quicker and with greater ease — seeing as it would take roughly 10 minutes to reach the exit directly connected to the park.

what neither of you were prepared for, though, was the mass of people that filled the subway - a mixture of families headed home from work and a few headed for a long night of drinking at whatever bar or club they could find.

all the seats were filled from what you both could see, but soobin managed to find an unoccupied handrail for the two of you to share. soobin made sure to stand in between you and the men that occupied the seat beside the rail, not wanting to risk any chance of either of them making you uncomfortable.

you stayed rather silent during the trip, for many reasons.

the first reason being that you felt shy with so many people surrounding the two of you, and it embarrassed you to have complete strangers hearing your conversation.

not that anything you'd say would be embarrassing at all, but it was your own anxiety that made you nervous.

the second reason was that you couldn't bring yourself to speak even if you wanted to. the cause behind that being soobin's gentle hand resting carefully on your waist, protecting you on the off-chance that you lost balance at all during the ride.

even with a layer of clothing in between, soobin's touch still emitted sparks coursing through your veins.

could he feel them too?

was he even aware of how he made you feel at all?

in this instance, soobin was clueless. he was more focused on everyone around you, watching carefully for anyone's possible lingering stares or wandering hands.

he was never a fan of the subway, having heard many horror stories - and seen many dramas - of creepy men that would take advantage of women. never would he ever want you to deal with anything like that, not as long as he could be there beside you to prevent it.

in which case, left him paying no attention to your blushing cheeks or the goosebumps on your skin from the position of his hand.

・❥・

in a matter of no time, though it felt like years to you, the both of you finally exited the subway and walked a short ways to reach the south gate entrance.

despite your insisting to help cover at least half of the entrance fee, soobin hushed you and ended up covering all the costs for himself - even going as far to splurge on magic passes to prevent any waiting for a few of the popular rides.

"soobin, you can't keep doing that," you pouted, feeling worse than you should that he kept paying for you everywhere you went.

meanwhile, it didn't bother soobin in the slightest. he adored being able to treat you to anything and everything you wanted, just as long as it made you smile.

besides, it was his father's money. he did want you two together, right? in which case, soobin was sure he wouldn't mind either.

"come on, what do you want to do first?" soobin asked you, intertwining your hands perfectly together that it felt as if it were the most natural instinct in the world.

after only a second of pondering, your eyes landed on the sign of the closest ride - with an estimated wait time of only 20 minutes. luckily for you both, the 'premium' magic pass that decorated your wrists would allow you to skip the line.

"let's go here," you urged soobin, tugging cutely for him to follow behind you as you led him to the adventures of sinbad.

seeing as you got to skip the waiting, you and soobin were placed in the perfect spot at the very front of the ride. you were, unfortunately, joined later by a lone rider to make a set of 3, but it didn't bother either of you that much.

you still held each other's hand and giggled happily together for every twist and turn - even 'ooh'ing and 'ahh'ing at the dragon animatronics.

it was barely the first ride out of many, but you already didn't want the day with soobin to end. you hadn't been to lotte world ever since you were a child, so creating this new memory with the adorable boy beside you meant everything.

you truly wished you could live it forever.

"i know where we're going next," soobin laughed beside you, now being the one to tug at your hand to follow him to the conquistador next door.

only this time, you hesitated. you used your free hand to grasp at his wrist to gain his attention, wanting to stop him from going any further. "actually, that ride's really cramped, i don't know if i want to go on that one," you told him.

it was true that the ride was very cramped, seeing as it held almost up to 60 people at a time, but he and his friends never really saw that as a problem before.

the only other person he knew who wasn't a fan of the ride was huening, but that was because ...

soobin looked back over at you to study your face, realizing that you looked a little nervous every time you watched the mechanical boat go upwards. figuring it was a little more than just a cramped ride that made you reluctant, he chose to play along and avoid teasing you just this once.

"you're right, we can go on something else," he reassured you, squeezing your hand gently and leading you away from the ride.

after discovering your new fear, soobin mentally created a list of rides to avoid and not bother suggesting on the chance that they would make you uncomfortable. he wanted to make this night a wonderful experience for you, and he was not about to risk anything.

the drunken basket, however, was a bit of a question mark. he figured it couldn't hurt to ask, seeing as it wasn't that high up.

"would you be okay going up there?" soobin asked you, pointing towards the currently spinning basket ride.

if you were being honest, watching it spin around made you dizzy just from looking at it, but you refused to skip any more rides and ruin the evening for soobin. if you kept saying no to anything that made you worry, he may end up having no fun with you at all.

"yeah, looks like fun!" you lied through a forced smile, taking deep breaths after he turned around in order to comfort yourself before you reached it.

declaring yourself as a party of two, the worker allowed you both to your own basket before shutting the tiny door that would supposedly keep you in.

staring long and hard at the metal disk in the center, you suddenly grew even more nervous at the thought of getting motion sick.

"we don't have to spin it if you don't want to," soobin reassured you, smiling gently as he noticed your nerves once again.

"no, no, we can! just not too much, okay?" you told him, focusing on your deep breaths once again.

once the ride started, soobin ignored your protests and ended up scooting over from his place across from you to sit directly by your side. he used one arm to hold you tightly against him, allowing you to tuck your face into his coat, while his other hand turned the disk around only a couple times.

he was curious, he couldn't help himself.

besides, you felt safer being held so closely to him, so you didn't mind one bit. for a second, you forgot you were even on the ride at all.

once it was over, the two of you ended up stumbling around a bit on your way down - soobin more than you - and you opted for waiting off to the side for a second so that you could regain your balance.

"oh, binnie, look!" you cheered excitedly, pointing over to a nearby attraction that piqued your interest.

it took soobin a second to follow where you were pointing, his heart distracting him as it flipped over from hearing your name for him fall casually from your lips.

"the mirror maze?" he finally asked, tilting his head and smiling at you so cutely.

if he had known before that something like this would have you smiling so brightly and adorably at him, he would have suggested lotte world ages ago.

"yeah, do you want try it?" you asked him, bouncing on your toes in a failed attempt to prevent yourself from getting overexcited.

now how could soobin possibly say no to someone as cute as you?

not that he would ever dare to deny you anything in the world.

"sure, cutie, let's go."

... cutie?!

had soobin not said it in such a cute, cooing way, that simple sentence had the potential to sound a lot flirtier, which could have easily made you lose your mind without any effort.

not that you weren't already.

after soobin swore he had the entire maze memorized and insisted he lead you through, it made it all the funnier to watch him walk face first into the first mirror.

from there, it was as if everywhere he tried to turn was a mirror, causing you to laugh at him the whole time. you would ask if he'd like any help, but apparently he would rather play on false confidence that he supposedly knew where he was going.

"i think they change the mirrors," soobin tried to justify, practically looking like a mime as his hands touched over every mirror surrounding the two of you.

"i'm sure they do, binnie," you teased him, having a much easier time than he had as you finally took charge and guided yourself through each turn to find the exit.

once the two of you finally made it out, soobin began jokingly gasping for air as if you had been trapped in there for days.

your heart swelled as you giggled, adoring how cute he was every time he made you laugh.

intertwining your hands together once more, with both of your hearts simultaneously racing, you began to work your way through the crowd in order to spot anymore attractions to enjoy before moving on to the next floor.

of course, your eyes refused to miss the bright, shining lights of the camelot carousel practically screaming at you.

"aww, binnie, let's ride the carousel!" you chanted happily, walking backwards as you dragged him by hand and watched his cute little dimples flash at you.

normally soobin wouldn't care for the carousel, but he would ride it 100 times over for you if you simply told him so.

from once believing that the carousel was a rather boring ride, soobin was suddenly convinced that it was the best attraction out of the entire park. watching you laugh, smile, and cheer so giddily made the ride appear so much brighter than before.

he couldn't resist taking his phone out to capture just how pretty you looked from his view, despite your protests and lies that you weren't. it took him only a second to decide to make you his lock screen, and it took even less time to choose which of the many was his favorite.

there was something about the way you looked at him in one of the pictures that had his heart swelling, flipping, and racing all at once. he didn't want to get his hopes up, but it almost looked like ... maybe, just maybe, there was a deeper feeling to your eyes whenever they looked at him — just like how his shined every time he looked at you.

sighing in content, he couldn't help but to think that everything about the night was running smoothly.

you were happy, soobin was happy, and his entire plan was on track to take you to magic island for the end of the night moonboat ride, where he would then confess to you.

and then ... soobin made a slight miscalculation.

[ to be continued ... ]

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a/n:

okay FIRST OF ALL, i may have practically gone to lotte world myself with how much i'm studying that damn park map. i didn't want to talk out of my ass and start naming things that weren't there, so i aimed for accuracy and i beg of you to pls acknowledge me for it 😭

secondly, i was originally going to make this one LONG final post buuuuut ... let's just say it ended up being way longer than i expected and i figured you guys would rather enjoy a two-parter anyway <3

PLS PLS enjoy it !!! the second part is still currently in progress, so look forward to it very soon while also enjoying part 1 !!

~

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[riitah]

[late night talks] - geto suguru x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: to put it short, you had insomnia. very bad insomnia.

ever since you found out about the jujutsu world and why you saw these strange creatures everyone insisted weren’t there all throughout your life, you just...couldn’t sleep.

so here you were, roaming the dorm hallways, your steps careful, light. but your peaceful stroll was interrupted by a certain classmate -- not that you minded, but still.

“what are you doing up so late, (y/n)?

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

HONORABLE MENTION: special thank-you to my beta reader “henry rumpelstiltskin III of the nuclear sock kingdom”! you caught a lot of typos for me in this one ✨

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is like, just a fluff piece. More of spending time quality time with Geto than anything too intimate. High school reader and Geto 🎉

Also, falling asleep cuddling Geto sounds so comforting ngl

Trees. Branches. And the occasional (howling) whisper of the wind. Perfect for falling asleep.

For most people, anyway.

For you, it’s been at least 23 hours since you last slept. Only 8 if you counted the 30-minute nap you took during class. And four since you tried every method to get your brain to fog up like it did whenever your teacher droned on and on about the importance of controlling your cursed energy flow.

Please just let me sleep. The teacher’s gonna yell at me again for doing it in class.

The wooden ceiling only stared back at you, offering no support whatsoever.

With a sigh, you sat up. The bed creaked at the movement, and your blankets fell from your shoulders, exposing you to the chilly night air. You pulled your knees to your chest, waiting for sleep that won’t be due until probably a few hours later.

I wish I could talk to someone right now.

It was weird. During the day, you had so much anxiety about everything that you could barely concentrate on what was happening. But now that you had the time, there was nothing.

Though you could probably start with this pre-existing world that you had just been tossed into a few weeks ago. Your parents were more open-minded than you had thought and immediately agreed to enroll you into Jujutsu Metropolitician Technical High -- or whatever it was called, you didn’t really pay attention -- as soon as they realized it was safe.

You had snorted at that. Was the school safe? Maybe. But was the job it was preparing you for safe? Not at all. A part of you wondered if they had some bias to begin with; after all, it meant that the things you saw all throughout your childhood -- things that everyone thought were your imaginary friends though you had constantly denied it -- and continued to see throughout your middle school years were real, and you weren’t just crazy.

It did bring some comfort knowing that other people saw these things too, but other than that, knowing that you had to fight them someday -- for a living, too -- made your heart fill with dread.

Maybe this wasn’t the right path for you. You had always been content with taking over your family’s soba shop, anyway.

Is it too late to unenroll myself?

15 minutes passed in silence as you rocked back and forth, and the clock lighted up to show that it was officially 2AM. Deciding that there was nothing better for you to do anyway, you left the warm comfort of your sheets and sat on the edge of the bed. Your bare feet brushed against the cold floor as you felt around for your slippers, sending goosebumps rising all over your skin.

After a few moments, you had found them (somehow, they were lying all the way at the corner of the bed). Gently, you slipped into them, and then stood up. Hoping that the walls were thick enough to prevent the sound of your footsteps from reaching your dorm neighbors, you took light steps towards the door.

After making sure that nobody was on the other side, you slowly opened it, holding your breath. Thankfully, it didn’t creak on its hinges, and you exited your room.

You couldn’t describe it very well, but the air out here was crispier and sharper, somehow. The environment was still as unfamiliar as ever, however, and you longed to be back home, away from all of this nonsense.

You looked out the window. The moon was surprisingly bright tonight, illuminating the hallways and casting long shadows along the walls.

You took a careful step forward. No sound.

You tested the floorboards a few more times before you were comfortable enough to walk around without taking six seconds per step.

This is peaceful.

You quietly hummed to yourself as you walked down the hallway, trailing two fingers that occasionally bumped into the wooden framework along the cool glass.

“(Y/N)?”

A familiar voice suddenly interrupted your night stroll, and you jumped. You turned your attention away from the stars and directed it at the person who called out your name.

Suguru, you realized. He was your deskmate, and always had a friendly smile on his face whenever the two of you talked. You weren’t best friends, but you were far from acquaintances.

Far enough for you to have caught feelings for him and for you to crave for something more.

“What are you doing up so late?” He closed the distance between the two of you by a few meters, his tone concerned.

“I, was, uhm--”

You gawked at his face for a few moments. His hair, which was usually up in a bun, framed the sides of it, giving him an almost ethereal look in the soft lighting. And his features were--

“You were...?” he repeated, amused, dragging you out of your thoughts.

You cleared your throat, embarrassed. “Taking a walk. I couldn’t fall asleep.”

He had a thoughtful look on his face. “I see.”

“So. What are you doing up so late?”

“I needed a glass of water. The training was pretty intense today. Wasn’t enough to tire you out, though.”

“I think we both saw how I walked right into Mei Mei’s crow. It’s okay, you can laugh.”

He cracked a smile as you rubbed at the area where the bird had hit you with its beak. And it was starting to throb again.

“You wanna talk?”

“Huh?”

“You clearly have a lot on your mind.”

“Says who?”

He shook his head. “Keeping it all in isn’t healthy, so what’s up?”

You reluctantly agreed and sat down, leaning against the wall. He did the same, taking a seat right next to you.

“It’s just been kind of stressful lately. Actually, ever since I started coming here, I couldn’t fall asleep. Like at all.”

He nodded in understanding. “It’s pretty hard getting used to this place.”

“Really? You seem to be taking it all in pretty well, though.” Despite also coming from a normal, non-sorcerer family, he had fit right in at this school since day one. Unlike you.

He chuckled at your response. “Trust me, I’m struggling behind closed doors. But it gets easier.”

Does it, though?

“I’m really worried about everything.” You looked down at your hands, playing with your fingers. “I don’t know if I want to get involved in all this curse stuff. I don’t exactly have the courage to face these things, you know? I thought I just needed to deal with seeing them all the time, but no, I have to fight them, too.”

“I get it.”

“You do?” You looked at him, puzzled.

“To a certain extent. Sometimes I get anxious about dying and wonder if I made the wrong choice.”

“How do you...’get rid’ of that fear?”

“The thoughts don’t go away, but remembering that I’m doing it to help people helps a lot. By taking on this role, I’m helping those who can’t protect themselves from these curses. We sorcerers exist to protect non-sorcerers -- that’s what I believe, but it’s not wrong to want to run from it all. We just have to get stronger so our chances of dying slim down.” He tilted his head to one side, looking at you with a kind smile. “I personally think you’d make a great sorcerer someday, (Y/N). Even if you don’t think so right now.”

Your cheeks heated at his words. After mumbling a quick thanks, you changed the subject to something else, the majority of your anxiety seemingly having dissipated into the air after hearing what he said. He didn’t question it.

You didn’t know how much time had passed as you two talked about random things, the topics ranging from home life to funny moments at your middle schools. By the end of the conversation -- which was marked by your yawns slowly integrating themselves into your sentences and your slow responses -- you felt as if you had known him your entire life.

He walked you to your room’s door, still laughing at the story you told him earlier. “Well, goodnight, (Y/N),” he said, wiping a tear from his eye with a finger. “I was mildly annoyed at having to get out of bed, but I’m glad I did.”

You grinned back at him, your hand on the doorknob and twisting it. “Likewise.”

The door didn’t open.

You turned to look down at it, confused, and twisted it again.

Still nothing except for a rattling sound.

You glanced at the position of the door in the hallway, eyebrows furrowed. “I’m sure this is the right door...”

Oh, crap. I think I locked it out of habit when I closed it.

“Is it locked?” Suguru asked, peering over your shoulder. “You can sleep in my room if you want.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his offer, but you shook your head. “Yeah, it is. And I can’t do that.”

“If you’re worried about anything happening, I’ll sleep outside. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Wait, no, that’s not what I meant--” You turned to him and shook your head frantically. “Suguru, I trust you a lot. I just don’t want you to lose sleep. Especially since you stayed awake for me.”

“Then I’ll take the floor,” he suggested.

“I’m not letting you sleep on the cold hard ground in your own room...”

“And I can’t have my friend who’s staying over sleep on the ‘cold hard ground’ either. You’ll catch a cold both ways.”

“Friend,” huh.

You stared at him. He stared at you back.

“...”

“...”

“I mean...I wouldn’t mind if we just shared the bed... Unless it would be too uncomfortable for you?”

He chuckled for the second time that night. “Not at all. I’ll take your reply as a yes, then?”

You nodded meekly, and he guided you to his room by placing his hand on the small of your back, sending shivers up your spine. His door unlocked with a soft click and he let you in first.

You couldn’t see very well, but from what you could make out, it was a lot tidier than you had expected. The floor wasn’t littered with dirty laundry or empty instant ramen boxes everywhere, at least.

The overall layout of the room was the same in every dorm, so you made your way to where you remembered your bed being. And thank god you were correct, because you tripped on something and fell face-first.

“You okay?” Suguru called out as he made his way to you, his voice worried.

“Yeah.” Yours was muffled, your face still buried in his blankets that smelled too much like the laundry detergent your family used, too tired to get up. “I just tripped a little.”

“Sorry about that. I didn’t get much of a chance to clean it today,” he apologized. “Ah, you’re finally worn out, aren’t you?”

“Mmhm...”

He turned you around and you felt his arms go behind your back and under your legs, but you were too tired to care. He lifted you up and gently placed you on one side of the bed before slipping in next to you.

His chest was pressed against your back despite his best efforts to maintain some distance, allowing you to feel his heartbeat. It was fast but rhythmic, and gradually slowed after he pulled the blankets above the both of your shoulders.

All of that had alerted you from your sleepy state, and you thought you were back to not being able to get a few hours in because of the proximity, but you were wrong. No sooner had you uttered a soft “goodnight” back, you had fallen asleep, the last thing on your mind being you reminding yourself to go out late at night more often.

Not hearing the quiet “I love you” from the person behind you that followed.

[spicerackofblorbos]

Chapter 8: June - Part Two

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, romance, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, references to child abuse, smoking and alcohol abuse mentions, domestic violence mentions, light assault

☾ Author's note ➼ AAAAAAAA okay last part before shit starts ramping up. I HOPE Y'ALL ARE READY. This one might be a little rough as it's still some set up but hey, that's what makes slow burns so good right? See y'all with the next part soon. But in the mean time, beach episode anyone? :3

☾ Word Count ➼ ~7.1k (whoops)

The smell of cooking meat wafts into your bedroom, waking you up gently from your deep sleep. You pop an eye open and are greeted by bright sunlight shining through the open glass door, the salty breeze making the sheer curtains around it dance. Shrieks of laughter make their way up to you from the beach below. Reaching over to your phone, you check the time and see it is barely past three in the afternoon.

Considering you didn’t get back to bed until late, you’re not surprised to have slept in so long – though part of you wonders why no one had come to wake you earlier. You turn onto your back and stare up at the ceiling, a smile creeping up your face. Last night was nice, strolling on the beach with Levi in the dead of night. You recall the way he said goodnight to you softly before closing his door in front of you.

You lie there for a moment longer, focusing on the noises coming from the other side of the bedroom door. The sounds of metal pans and dull chatter slip under the crack, too muffled to really make out words but there’s a few bursts of boisterous laughter from Erwin. You hope Levi got to sleep in as much as you did.

It takes a bit to assemble yourself, humming to yourself as you do. You even make your bed, thinking about what Levi might say if he saw you do that. The thought makes you blush. Once dressed, you do a double take in the mirror then nod to yourself before throwing the bedroom door open.

At first glance, you see Hange busy at the stove, their hair pulled up in a messy ponytail. Levi is at the bar drinking a cup of tea as he scrolls through his phone. His eyes slide over to your movement in his periphery but says nothing. Instead, he leans over and pours another cup of tea, dropping in a couple spoonfuls of sugar as well as some milk. He slides it to the seat next to him on the bar then goes back to his cup, not looking your way.

“There you are!! Good afternoon!!” Hange yells over to you while they flip what looks like a piece of grilled chicken.

After sitting down on the stool next to Levi, you give him a grateful smile. When you take a sip of the warm tea, you sigh internally at the smooth flavor. Levi knew how you liked your tea and never failed to get it perfect every time - you adored him for that. Setting it down carefully, you look around the rest of the living space.

‘Where’s Erwin?’

“He’s on the phone.” Levi says, pointing behind him.

You follow his finger and find it pointing to the main balcony attached to the living room. Erwin is pacing back and forth as he speaks through the mouthpiece, his best customer service smile brightening up his face. A laugh shakes his upper body as he continues to converse.

‘What is he doing?’

“Who knows with him.” Hange cuts in as they take the grilled chicken out of the pan and place it into a glass dish sitting off to the side. There are already a few pieces of the same chicken piled into it.

“They had a little farmer’s market this morning out in the square that I just had to visit. I saw a flier for it in the elevator yesterday. You would not believe the things they were selling.” Hange says cheerily. They reach over to you and set down a small bowl of mixed fruits before plucking a blueberry off the top and popping it into their mouth. “Speaking of, I know what we’re doing tomorrow night and you and Levi are not allowed to say no.” Hange then turns around to check on the sizzling meat.

You eye Levi, curious to see if he had any idea what Hange meant but he just rolls his eyes, grumbling something about ‘shitty-glasses’ under his breath. You shrug to yourself and start digging into your fresh fruit starting with the plump strawberries hiding at the bottom.

The sound of the sliding door opening and closing behind you makes your ears twitch. You swivel in your barstool mid-bite to the sight of Erwin walking over with a big smile. He’s wearing his light blue button down that matches his eyes perfectly, unbuttoned to show his white t-shirt underneath.

“That should be the last of the plans and reservations made for this week.” Erwin chirps. The weariness he wore yesterday is completely dissolved. In place is the essence of pure joy.

“Nice! Good job, Erwin. But uh- what are these ‘plans and reservations’?” Hange inquires as they lean against the island with their chin sitting in their palms, the spatula they were using currently dripping oil all over the counter. Levi scowls and shoves a paper towel underneath.

“Well, tomorrow we’re going to visit Liberio’s local museum. They have a lot of history and culture here that I think we would all be interested in. Then there’s a block party in the town square to celebrate the beginning of the summer. Hange should have told you that already, though.” Erwin chuckles as he sits himself down on the last barstool next to Levi. He pulls his phone out and starts scrolling for something.

You take this chance to side-eye Hange, shooting them a raised eyebrow. They lift their hands up in defense and turn to focus on the last chicken breast currently popping in the pan.

“Hmmm. Oh!” Erwin sits up as he finds what he was looking for. “The day after tomorrow, I scheduled a lovely all afternoon spa date for you two.” Erwin’s crystal blue eyes flick up over his phone screen to look at you and Hange, though their back is still turned.

“I can’t imagine you scheduled the spa for us, Erwin?” Levi mutters over his teacup before taking a sip.

“As much as I think it could be fun, no. You and I are going golfing.” Levi sputters on the dark liquid, staring at Erwin in disbelief.

“Seriously?”

“Just a small game. It’s been a while.” Erwin says nonchalantly as he continues to scroll through his digital itinerary.

“Just let me stay here.” Levi’s tone is dry, but you can’t help but laugh internally at the bratty disposition he gave off. His eyes narrow at his blonde friend.

“It’s too late, we’re both reserved for the course at 9am.”

Levi only huffs in return.

“Then we’ll meet up before going out to dinner. I’ve seen nothing but great reviews at this one place down the street. Apparently, the owner’s eighteen-year-old son is a prodigal chef.”

‘Oh yeah, I read about something like that before we left home. How did you get reservations so last minute?’ You pop a raspberry in your mouth while you eye him with surprise.

“I had these reservations set months ago. I just had to call and ask if we could add a couple more chairs.” You don’t press after that, pinching your lips together in a thin line.

“Last but not least is the Liberio Summer Festival.” He continues. “After that, we have one more day to rest up before we fly back home to Paradis.” Erwin locks his phone before placing it down onto the marble countertop. 

“I think these are all great ideas.” Hange comments with a smirk. Your blond friend scoffs in amusement.

“You thought of half of them, Hange.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve been thinking about stopping by some local shops too. Sounds like we’ll have time to do that tomorrow afternoon, huh?” Hange says as they shut the stove off and then turns to wiggle an eyebrow at you.

You’re in the middle of wiping off the sticky colorful fruit on a napkin as they direct the attention to you. You shrug but shoot over a reassuring smile regardless. You’ve never been one for shopping, but it made Hange happy and that was enough for you.

The rest of the conversation dwindles into today’s plans for the beach. Hange cuts in and excitedly showed off the chicken that they had just finished cooking. They were happy to announce that they just needed a little more time to prepare but then you all could leave. You hear them mention something about a beach picnic for dinner, but your ears quickly tune them out as you find your mind wandering elsewhere.

Levi’s steely gaze falls on you for a moment. You both exchanged a look. At the time, you think it’s from the ridiculous antics your sister was up to as usual. But if you had looked harder, you would have seen there was something else there dancing in his eyes. He looks away and back down to his almost empty teacup as he grumbles something to Hange.

You excuse yourself a bit later to gather your things for the beach and Hange follows so they can grab their own bag from their messy corner of belongings. You note their bathing suit top peeking out from their loose shirt and wonder how long they have been up.

“Don’t forget to change into your bathing suit.” Hange shoots you with a finger gun and then slips out of the door, shutting it and leaving you in silence. Your hands hung midair as you were signing to them before they had left. They drop to your sides as you roll your eyes.

 A sigh escapes your lips as you walk over to your suitcase sitting on the floor. You had stuffed your swimsuit in a small compartment meant to separate it from the rest of your clothes in the off chance it was still wet when you packed later. Reaching in, you feel the soft texture and you’re instantly suspicious. This isn’t the bathing suit you had packed.

When you pull it out, your fears are confirmed. Sitting in between shaking fingers is the pink two-piece Hange had semi-jokingly gifted for your birthday last month. You don’t know how they found it considering you had shoved it so far back into your closet.

You thrust your hand back in the same pocket to check just in case and come up empty. You dig through the rest of the neatly organized suitcase to make sure you didn’t place the original somewhere else. You find nothing.

Long gone is the black set you had packed a couple days ago, leaving you with this abomination as your only option. Considering you had to leave soon, there was no time to go out and buy another. If you had a voice, you would have screamed your now dead-to-you sister’s name. Instead, you stomp your feet and take a shaky breath. You resign yourself to your fate and start changing.

.

By the time you all make it down to the sand, your phone reads a few minutes before 4:30 in the afternoon. It had taken a little longer than planned to get the beach-side picnic packed. Hange had found a large wicker basket the owners currently used for blanket storage that they claimed would be great to transport food in. Levi had adamantly disagreed, but Hange promised they would clean it out before putting the blankets back in. That was that.

Now, you sit under the protection of a comically large umbrella in the comfort of your baggiest clothes. Levi sits next to you covered up about the same. He hadn’t worn shorts since you all had gotten here so seeing his extremely pale legs in the sunlight was almost blinding. Before you had even left, he covered himself in sunscreen, grumbling under his breath about ‘not taking any chances.’ He didn’t appreciate the laugh he got out of you for saying that.

The beach wasn’t too packed to begin with, something you and Levi both sighed in relief at. There was enough space in the back to find the spot you all settled into easily. A couple walks by as they swing their toddler between them, tiny giggles escaping into the summer breeze. A few teens scream in delight a little way off, laughing and yelling at each other. Erwin and Hange are digging around in the wet sand looking for shells in front of you, the sound of their chatter getting lost in the summer breeze.

A loud rumbling comes from your stomach as you stretch your legs out onto the beach blanket. Your face heats up from embarrassment at the noise and you hope it wasn’t loud enough for Levi to hear. Unfortunately, he has sensitive hearing.

“Hungry?” He looks over to you, his eyes shaded in black sunglasses. You can’t tell if he’s even looking at you.

You give him a small nod, puffing your cheeks out. This is what you get for only eating a bowl of fruit for lunch. Levi’s hair flutters in the wind, pushing it back and out of his face. You can already see the sweat sheening on his face from the excessive summer heat.

“Oi! Shitty-glasses!” He shouts to Hange who was currently on their way to you as he spoke.

“What, shorty?” They grab the water bottle they had set out earlier and unscrew it as they sit down on their towel a few feet away.

“When’s dinner? Your sister’s stomach is about to eat her from the inside out.” He points to you with a thumb.

“I’m thinking about another hour. Can you hang in there until then?” Hange frowns to you with concern.

You didn’t want to interrupt their fun, so you sign a ‘yes’, resulting in a wild grin from your sister. You could wait a little longer, you hope.

“Great! You two are missing out. Get your asses up!” Hange tucks their bottle under their clothes to keep it from the sun and push up from the ground.

Erwin trots over, saltwater dripping off of him with every step. With his blond hair slicked back, you could have sworn he was made for the beach. He resembles what you would imagine the god Apollo would look like. Meant for the sunshine.

“Why are you two still sitting here, fully clothed at that? The water is this way.” He points behind his shoulder. He beams his award-winning smile down to the two of you as he waits for a response. He doesn’t get much from Levi other than an eye roll. You fidget with the blanket underneath you, curling your fingers into the cloth. The anxiety you had pushed down from earlier starts to bubble up again.

‘I’m just keeping Levi company.’ You sign what you believe to be half-truth. Before you all had left Paradis, Levi had warned he wasn’t going into the ocean. He had said something about it being gross and that fish defecated in it all day. So, Levi wanted to stay on the blanket, and you decided to stay with him.

“Then I guess Levi has to go in.” Hange glances over to Erwin with a smirk. Erwin starts to step over to Levi, still dripping wet from his plunge earlier.

“Don’t even think about it.” Levi’s voice comes out in a low warning. You can already see the gears turning in everyone’s head and you were afraid of what might happen if you let things continue. In a hurry, you stand yourself up and place your hands out to calm everyone down.

‘Fine, fine. I’m coming. Leave Levi out of this.’ You sign with shaky hands. You dreaded this the moment you saw yourself in the mirror before leaving. Hange nods in approval and crosses their arms as they wait. The corner of their lips twitched in anticipation at what they knew was about to happen.

Your fingers tremble as your thumbs lock into the belt loops of your shorts. Carefully, you slide them down your legs, being careful not to fall over as you step out of them. As if you were pushing off the inevitable, you fold them neatly and place them on top of the beach bag that sat next to the food basket.

Taking a deep breath, you grip the soft fabric of your shirt and lift it over your head. You hear a sharp intake of breath followed by a little cough and you don't have to look over to see who did it. Your face is about the same shade as the bathing suit you had so desperately tried to hide.

Now, the suit was really cute, you won’t deny it. And it was very flattering on your body as well as against your skin tone. But it was not a style you would have chosen yourself nor like anything you’ve ever tried on before. It was salacious in nature despite the fact that it covered the important bits.

The top has built-in cups that push everything up and together, giving even those on the smaller side an illusion of a heavy bust. You were afraid that any wrong move you made would result in a spill out from how low cut it was on you. Your bottoms were high waisted, much to your relief. But with the high waist came the high hips so your thighs and most of your ass was on full display. It hugs your body just right, and you never felt more vulnerable.

Hange wolf-whistles at the sight of you, prompting you to use the shirt you still had in hand as a cover up. You can’t bring yourself to look at anyone, mortified at the unwanted attention.

“See, what did I say? She looks cute, does she not?” Hange wraps her arm around your shoulder, almost knocking you over. You hug the shirt closer to your chest as you stare down to the sand your toes are currently digging in.

“Hange, why do I have a feeling she didn’t pack the suit?” Levi’s voice cuts in. Your eyes flicker to him quickly before looking away. Despite Levi’s casual tone, the tips of his ears are bright red and you’re pretty sure it’s not from the heat.

“Okay fine, I swapped it out. But she looks good!”

“Her comfort is important, Hange. She’s obviously not comfortable.” The way Levi dismissed their question while simultaneously coming to your aid makes your heart jump.

“Okay you guys, there’s nothing to be done about it now.” Erwin looks to you now, a gentle smile gracing his also rose-colored cheeks. “You don’t have to go in. We can stop for another suit before the next beach day.”

You were uncomfortable, yes. But…

Your eyes glance over at the waves crashing towards the shore. Multiple people splash around with joy, indicating the water must be nice today. You were looking forward to this day, and you would be mad at yourself for allowing your discomfort to ruin it. You fold your shirt and place it on top of your shorts before putting on a smile for everyone.

‘No. I’ll be okay.’

“Thatta girl. Let’s get you slathered up with sunscreen first.” Hange walks around to one of the beach bags and grabs one of the aerosol sunscreen cans they had bought earlier in the day. Even for a hot day, the impact of the cool mist hitting your skin creates goosebumps all over your body. You cough at the chemicals going up your nose after they spritz your face.

Once satisfied, they toss the can back into the bag before turning and jogging back into the clear ocean where Erwin currently floats in. You twist around to face Levi, ignoring the palpitations your heart is currently going through. His gaze snaps up to yours, eyes still covered by his dark spectacles.

‘Are you coming?’ You shoot him a soft smile.

“Just go.” He mumbles quietly. His words hold no malice, but you can’t help but internally recoil at his short response. You nod in his direction and take off towards the water. Had you looked behind you, you’d notice that you never left Levi’s sight.  

You hesitate as you get to the shore, just as you did last night. The frothy seawater quickly makes its way to your bare feet, crashing over them and retreating just as fast. You laugh to yourself at the feeling of the sand displacing from the rushing water underneath your toes. The water is much warmer than when you had first greeted it so many hours ago. With a child-like grin, you run into the opposing current.

.

You had been splashing around with Hange for about 20 minutes when the sudden dizzy spell hits you. With the waves bouncing you up and down, you feel tingles in your feet that were currently suspended from floating in the salt water. You needed to get out.

Without saying anything to your companions, you start wading back to the shore as best you can. You didn’t realize how far out into the ocean you were until now. With each stroke you made back to land, the more static that filled your head. You blink hard a few times trying to fight the lightheaded feeling as your feet dig in the wet sand in an attempt to push yourself forward more.

By some miracle, you’re able to make it back to where the waves just crash on land before your legs collapse from under you. You’re able to catch yourself so you don’t face-plant into the firm sand beneath you, but your arms are shaky and the water slamming into you doesn’t help. Hange’s and Erwin’s shouts from behind come to you muffled. You shake your head, trying to knock back the nausea that came from feeling like the earth was spinning.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on your back as another pulls your chin over to look into the stormy gray eyes of Levi. His face is laced full of worry as his eyes scan your weary features. The blood rushing to your ears is almost as loud as the ocean and because of that, you have a hard time understanding anything he’s saying now. It takes a moment for you to realize he isn’t even talking to you, and instead to the people coming up from behind you.

Your eyes shut tight as you feel him lifting you off the ground and into his arms. He holds you close to his chest as he starts speed-walking back over to the spot you all had claimed. With the motion of his steps mixed in with the world already spinning around you, your nausea grows worse.

You grab the shirt Levi still had on in a tight fist, hoping it will help ground you. You notice his shirt is currently getting soaked from your wet body, adhering to his seemingly toned chest underneath. If you weren’t on the verge of throwing up, you would have been more aware of how fast his heart was racing holding you so closely with such little clothing on.

“Don’t worry about it.” Levi grunts down to you. He kneels into the soft blanket and sets you down gently before reaching over into the basket. Pulling out a soda, he makes quick work of popping it open and bringing it to your lips. You blink a few times at him. The worry behind his eyes is ever present as he watches you carefully. Your hesitation, however, makes him scowl.

“Drink.” He orders.

If you weren’t on the brink of passing out, you would have found this situation embarrassingly intimate. You put your mouth on the metal lip and Levi helps to tip it for you, carbonated sugar dancing on your tongue as it goes down. It’s like this for a couple minutes. Levi tipping it back every few minutes, and you're staring anywhere but his face.

Eventually, the world feels like it’s slowing down. The sounds around you trickle in with clarity and you’re finally more aware of your surroundings. Your eyes trail back over to Levi, still on his knees next to you with the can in hand. His eyes haven’t let your face, nor has the concern lessened. You shift around to get comfortable and notice that your shirt has been placed back over your head somehow.

Gently, you place your hand over Levi’s and push it down and out of your face.

‘I’m okay, now. I think.’  You sign, your hands still visibly shaking.

“You dumbass, this is why we should have eaten earlier.” Levi’s voice is gruff. He shoots daggers over to where your sister currently sits.

“I didn’t pay attention. That’s on me, I admit. We’re eating now, though.” Hange’s voice is drenched with guilt. They nod over to Erwin who was currently pulling out plates as well as miscellaneous covered dishes filled with what you expect is dinner.

“How is she?” Erwin asks as he pops open the top of the chicken salad Hange had made earlier.

Levi’s eyes meet your gaze again, waiting for your response.

‘Better.’ You offer a small smile. In truth, you did. The soda brought your heart back to a normal rhythm and you could finally feel your fingers.

“She says better.” Levi mumbles. He sits back down on the blanket before gingerly rubbing at his knee he had been kneeling on.

“Good, let’s dig in then.” Erwin smiles over to you as he hands you a plate filled with chicken salad, crackers, and various chopped up veggies.

Hange crawls over to you, most of their skin now dry from sitting out in the sun during this whole ordeal. They lean against you, resting their head on your shoulder. You can’t see their face very well from this angle, but you suspect they might be frowning.

“Sorry, my little berry. I’ve messed everything up for you today.” You see Levi open his mouth to say something, but you subtly shake your head. He closes it quickly and looks away.

You pat Hange’s head in reassurance with your other arm, feeling the grainy sand that currently sits between their hair strands. Erwin starts talking about something marine life related and you find yourself checking out as you slowly eat at your plate. And just like that, the group is back to silly conversations and taunting statements. The whole time, you find yourself throwing appreciative glances over to Levi and sometimes he’ll catch you, but he says nothing about it.

.

The sun hangs lower by the time you all finish cleaning up after yourselves. There were probably a couple hours until sunset. Erwin had asked if you wanted to come back into the water with them but denied their offer, instead opting to use this time to sunbathe. In all honesty, you still needed time to recalibrate after almost passing out. They were much more understanding and left you to your own devices. And Levi, of course, stayed behind with you.

Unfortunately, with the absence of Hange, you struggle a bit with the sunscreen. You were able to get everything in the front but when it came to getting your back, you found yourself fighting with the canister. That is, until you feel slim fingers taking it from you after you spray your hair for the third time.

“Tch, if you need help just say so.” Levi grumbles from behind you. Your heart jumps by his sudden proximity to you, his voice practically right by your ear. You hear him shaking the can before quickly spraying a layer of mist along your back, making sure to get your shoulders well covered as well.

“Some of the sunscreen isn’t sitting right. You might need to rub it in.” You glance back at Levi, eyebrow raised. You raise your hands to where he can see without having to turn around.

‘I can’t reach back there, dummy. Will you help?’ You keep a calm and collected face. Internally, however, you were freaking out at your request. With Hange gone, you had no one else to ask. A moment passes. Just as you think he had left in refusal of your bold invitation, you feel his slender fingers rubbing the oily sunscreen into your soft skin.

This isn’t the first time Levi has touched you, recalling the brief hand holding in the past. Not to mention him carrying you an hour ago. But this is the first time he did it with the sole intention of touching you, even if it was to help you stay protected from the sun. You’re not sure if he was doing it deliberately or not, but the pressure his nimble fingers used to massage the oils in was enough to make you shift your weight in an attempt to fight the feeling that was burning at your core. Levi’s fingers leave you all too soon.

“How’s that?” His voice comes out thickly. You turn back around to face him with a forced smile.

‘Great, thank you.’ He nods stiffly and turns back around before curling back up under the umbrella. You stand awkwardly before remembering why he helped you in the first place.

Taking Hange’s towel they had laid out, you fluff it up to get the sand off before stretching out on top of it. You’re still self-conscious of the fabric that hugs your body, so you find yourself lying face down and in the direction of the umbrella. You fold your arms under your head and rest your cheek against them. A content sigh escapes your lips from the sun rays kissing your skin. 

 It stays like this. You can hear Levi a few feet away, shuffling in place every couple of minutes. You also hear the cacophony of seagulls off in the distance, probably in search of food. There’s more laughter, some from Erwin’s very distinctive spirited self. All this mixed with the crashing of waves really adds to your blissful mood.

Your mind wanders, gravitating towards Levi as it always does. You can’t imagine this is his favorite place to be right now, despite his willingness to walk with you last night. You pull your head up to where your chin rests in between both folded arms and you stare over to Levi. He currently sits with his feet tucked under him in a crossed position, currently messing with something on his phone. Sitting up on both elbows, you snap to get his attention.

His face raises up slightly, but you can’t tell if he’s even looking at you with how dark his sunglasses were. Had you read his mind, you’d have known he was doing his best not to glance down where your breasts currently sit squished against the towel. His face gives nothing away, but his heart skips a few beats at the sight of you and the thoughts that lingered. Levi clears his throat before sitting forward and setting his phone down. You had his undivided attention.

“What?”

‘Just checking on you.’ You purse your lips at him. You get a sense of simmering attitude just threatening to bubble up in him.

“I’m fine.” He mumbles, shrugging his shoulders.

‘You don’t sound fine.’ You narrow your eyes at him.

“Well, it’s hot and this grainy shit is very annoying.” He sweeps at the sand that had transferred onto the blanket earlier. You raise an eyebrow at him and frown.

‘Why didn’t you stay back then?’

“Someone needed to make sure you wouldn’t drown.”

‘You don’t trust Erwin or Hange?’ Levi huffs at that.

“That’s funny.” He says without humor.

‘Want me to go drown so you don’t have to worry about me anymore?’ You stick your tongue out at him.

“Sure, just make it quick. I think I can fit in some time to clean the kitchen before Hange comes back to wreck it.” Your shoulders shake in silent laughter at his serious disposition. The corners of his mouth quirk up as well. You puff your cheeks out, your smile fading from your face slowly.

‘It’s not fair to you if you’re so miserable, Levi.’

“I’ll be fine. Stop worrying about me and focus on yourself, tch.” Levi mindlessly pulls at the small grains of sand still plaguing the area around him. A moment later, he pushes his sunglasses up so it’s holding his hair back, his whole face on display for you. “Are you having fun?”

You rest your chin in your palm as you eye him, giving him a nod in response. Due to the angle, Levi’s unblinking gaze peers through his long eyelashes. That feeling you had earlier, that burning sensation through your core. It’s ever present as you both continue to watch each other. Your eyes flicker down to his pouty lips before looking away shyly. After some silence between you two, you decide to lie back down, tucking your face into the crook of your elbow.

After a while, your back starts feeling like it’s on fire, so you turn over to give your front an opportunity for some sunlight. You tilt your head back to peep a glance up at Levi to see what he was doing, only to catch him staring straight back. He mumbles a sorry and looks back down at his phone clenched in white knuckles. You can’t help it, a smug smile teases at your lips as you flatten back out. Maybe this bathing suit isn’t so bad, you start to think.

You get about another fifteen minutes of peace until you hear Hange’s quiet laughter. Your first mistake is believing they were coming back for a drink break, so you kept your eyes closed. A shadow passes by and then suddenly you feel a cascade of warm water fall on your face.

You’re in such shock that you sit straight up and splutter at the water that has gone up your nose and straight down your throat. Everything burns from the excessive salt. You wipe your eyes in time to see the culprits running back to the ocean. Hange is laughing so hard that they’re not paying attention and end up tripping on their own feet. They take a nosedive into the surf.

You push yourself up from the now soaked towel and run after them, almost losing footing in the hot, soft sand. You’re still able to find enough momentum though. Erwin’s in the middle of laughing at Hange’s misfortune with his back turned to you that he doesn’t see you in time to stop you from tackling him from behind.

Erwin, of course, isn’t fazed by any of this. He stands almost half a foot taller than you with broad shoulders, so you were not taking him down any time soon. At best, you were able to koala around him.

You’re not sure how he did it but suddenly you were being picked up like a surfboard by his big hands and then tucked under an arm like a football. No amount of kicking and hitting makes him stop his amble into the ocean. During this whole time, your hoarse laughter escapes from your lungs.

Before you know it, he stops just as the water is up to his knees and stands staring off in the distance. Erwin is purposefully oblivious to your protests as he scans the distance with his hand as a visor to block out the setting sun. Suddenly, he stiffly picks you up like a surfboard again and your eyes widen at the realization of what he is planning to do. With your feet still kicking as they dangle below you, in one swift movement Erwin chucks you a good few feet away into the air. You only have time to pinch your nose before you crash back into the blue water like a cannonball.

When you break the surface, you come out laughing and coughing at the salty water you accidentally ingested. Hange is back on the surf and sitting down as the waves crash around them, laughing along with you. Erwin, however, is back at the umbrella talking to Levi. They’re too far away to hear what they’re talking about, but you can tell it’s a calm argument. Much to your surprise, you see Levi getting up just as Erwin turns around to head back. He has a satisfied grin, mixed with slight mischief. This wasn’t going to go well.

Eventually, Levi makes his way down to right where the furthest waves meet the sand and stands next to Erwin. His shoes are off as is his shirt. All that adorns his short stature is a pair of swim trunks and his sunglasses. Lean muscles ripple all throughout his body as he stands with both feet planted into the moist sand. He crosses his arms over his chest, eyebrows knit in annoyance.

“Okay, I’m here. Happy?” He calls out to all of you, voice loud to be heard over the waves.

Hange looks over at the source and raises their arms in excitement while screaming, “Yay Levi! Glad to see you make it. Come on in, the water’s fine!”

“Tch, yeah, no thanks. That water is fucking disgusting.” His eyes land on you as you bob up and down from the waves, his gaze noticeably softening when he sees you smiling at him. Unfortunately for Levi, you were too good of a distraction for Erwin’s antics.

You watch in bewilderment as Erwin lifts Levi up from the armpits like a toddler. The horror-stricken look that blanketed Levi’s face would have been comical if you weren’t so afraid for Erwin’s life. You’ve never seen someone go through the 5 stages of grief in such a short amount of time. Levi accepted defeat the moment right before he’s tossed into the water a few feet from you.

You guard your face from the inevitable splash, mouth agape at the audacity of Erwin’s actions. Hange starts laughing even harder until a wave larger than the others comes out of nowhere and hits them square in the face. Erwin loses it after that.

When Levi resurfaces, his anger is palpable. He starts to wade towards Erwin who was currently doubled over on his knees in a fit of laughter but your fingers clamp over Levi’s forearm to stop him. In a knee jerk reaction, he yanks his arm out of your grip and whirls around on you. The dark look in his eyes diminishes quickly as he realizes it’s you. The anger never leaves his face though, every muscle tense with his jaw locked.

You grip Levi’s arm gently and start tugging him opposite of where your friends currently sat laughing. Keeping yourself afloat in one place was hard enough on your own, but dragging someone behind you was another story. Fortunately for you, Levi doesn’t resist as you trudge through the sand and ocean currents to the shore. Eventually you both make it until you’re ankle deep in water and you turn to face him.

Levi’s face is contorted less so than before, only showing pure annoyance. His eyes don’t meet yours, instead staring off to somewhere off in the distance. You release his arm and reach over with both hands to cup his face in them, twisting his face in your direction. His eyes widen, stunned at your sudden touch.

One of his hands reaches up, three fingers curling around the back of your hand and pulls it down off his face. He continues to hold on to your hand though, refusing to let go. 

“Don’t even think about apologizing.” His voice comes out gravelly. His eyes narrow over your shoulder, probably to Erwin if you had to guess. You pull your hand out of his to sign, but you can feel the lingering warmth of his skin still pressing into your palm.

‘I won’t. Are you okay?’

“No.”

‘Do you want to leave?’ Levi’s eyes drift back to yours, and you can see the gears turning in his head.

“The beach or the ocean?” He kicks his feet in the clear shallow water. Levi is obviously uncomfortable. You recall the way he had stuck up for you earlier in his own Levi way, and it was your turn to help him, if he wanted it. 

His gaze softens as he stares back at your sun kissed face. He grips your wrist and starts walking back to the group’s belongings, tugging you along with him. As he passes Hange and Erwin who are currently eying the two of you, he flips them both off. You don’t get to see their reaction as you’re being pulled away quickly.

When you both get back, Levi grabs two towels stuffed into one of the bags. He hands one to you before using his own to ruffle his hair dry. When he pulls the towel off, your heart threatens to explode at the sight. Levi’s hair sticks up in different ways and you can’t stop the blush from creeping into your cheeks. He wasn’t being fair, being this attractive.

You walk over to your clothes, planning to pack everything up once you dry yourself off more. He surprises you, however, by sitting down in the shadows of the early evening sun instead of getting his things to leave. His knees pull up against his chest as he looks up to you and offers a hand. Was his face pink from the heat or…?

“I’m fine. Just come sit.”

‘Are you sure?’ You frown down at him as you wring the saltwater out of your hair. He says nothing and instead continues to watch you intently. You roll your eyes at him and lightly take his hand. You lower yourself down next to him, shoulder to shoulder with him facing the horizon.

You were fine spending the rest of your life watching the ocean glitter gold under the setting sun with him by your side. Content, even.

.

You could have sworn you only blinked once, but the bright sands you were once staring at suddenly turned into the soft cloudy lavender sky and the jaw of one Levi Ackerman. He carries you against his bare chest, both arms cradling you in a bridal style. Your eyes blink slowly from sleep, the distance between blinks growing longer with every rhythmic step that Levi took. You were about to be lulled back into sleep. As if one more defiant act, you glance up. Those eyes of his, your favorite shade of steely gray, stare down at you just as you shut your eyelids for the last time. You hear him whisper just as you’re drifting away.

“I’ve got you.” 

☾ Previous Chapter: June - Part One ☾ Next Chapter: June - Part Three

[calekinnieplus]

So... apparently I've reached the end of the Main Story. That's... surreal. I've done it.

Of course, there's still the side stories left, but I'll definitely read them soon.

But man, oh man. The last few chapters Hit me where it hurts. Klein is asleep. We don't know when he'll wake up. The apocalypse is coming.

But hey, at least he high-fived his niece? T^T

(Still crying over that, don't mind me-)

It was a long road. Some weeks were filled with binging, others - less so. Nevertheless, I've read the main story. It took less than a year, good on me. I wrote down the date I reached a certain chapter, every 100th chapter, I wrote it down.

Here it is:

5 Jun, downloaded epub, read 1st chapter

Chap 69 - 25 Jul

Chap 100 - 30 Jul

Chap 200 - 4 Aug

Chap 300 - 7 Aug

Chap 400 - 9 Aug

Chap 500 - 13 Aug

Chap 600 - 22 Aug

Chap 700 - 24 Aug

Chap 716 (50%) - 25 Aug

Chap 800 - 29 Aug

Chap 900 - 3 Sept

Chap 1000 - 22 Sept

Chap 1100 - 18 Oct

Chap 1169 - 26 Oct

Chap 1200 - 28 Oct

Chap 1300 - 8 Nov

Chap 1332 - 22 Nov

Chap 1394 - 27 Nov [Main Story - The End]

Ohhh man. It's crazy.

I have a lot of good impressions from this novel. Some more melancholic than others. Others, on the funnier side. Overall, it definitely had an impact.

Klein is a character that, at surface level, you'd think is boring, but when you actually pay attention to his thoughts, his feelings, and his decisions, you're blown away.

Klein's a food connoisseur who likes to try various dishes, but definitely has a sweet tooth. He's someone who likes to lampoon, in good or bad times. He's loyal to his friends, making sure to pay back what he owes. He's kind and tries his best to lend a helping hand when he can. He's selfless in the way he decided to confront a terrifying entity that was rivaled by God Almighty, to keep his promises to people that placed their faith in him, to protect those he holds dear to his heart, to bring forth hope for everyone.

He's a miserable existence, plagued by the madness ever-present in the Beyonder characteristic that he consumed. A lonely existence, separated from his previous friends and family by force and his current friends and family by choice. Fighting against what seems to be an impossible foe, fighting to break a cycle of madness and pain to protect humanity.

He's also... Klein Moretti. One of my favorite characters that deeply hurt me when he was hurt, that made me panic when he was panicked and made me happy when he achieved victory against all odds. Thank you.

Lord of the Mysteries is a wonderful novel. Each volume had a story that built up spectacularly for the ending, each story making me sympathize with characters we only saw a few times.

Although some characters were more fleshed out than others, although there were some moments I didn't enjoy in full, that's only natural. It definitely projected a picture I could marvel at and it was undoubtedly a good choice on my part to pick this novel up heh

I shall continue to read the side stories, but consider this my thanks towards Cuttlefish and the story itself for the wonderful experience.

And to everyone who enjoyed my ramblings and reactions to my binging, thanks for being here with me. It was a great time!

ONWARDS, MY FRIENDS!

[chaotic-on-main]

Chapter 8: June - Part Two

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, romance, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, references to child abuse, smoking and alcohol abuse mentions, domestic violence mentions, light assault

☾ Author's note ➼ AAAAAAAA okay last part before shit starts ramping up. I HOPE Y'ALL ARE READY. This one might be a little rough as it's still some set up but hey, that's what makes slow burns so good right? See y'all with the next part soon. But in the mean time, beach episode anyone? :3

ALSO IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN MY SUMMER EVENT CELEBRATING 250 FOLLOWERS YET PLEASE GO HERE!! I AM ACCEPTING REQUESTS UNTIL JULY 31ST!

☾ Word Count ➼ ~7.1k (whoops)

The smell of cooking meat wafts into your bedroom, waking you up gently from your deep sleep. You pop an eye open and are greeted by bright sunlight shining through the open glass door, the salty breeze making the sheer curtains around it dance. Shrieks of laughter make their way up to you from the beach below. Reaching over to your phone, you check the time and see it is barely past three in the afternoon.

Considering you didn’t get back to bed until late, you’re not surprised to have slept in so long – though part of you wonders why no one had come to wake you earlier. You turn onto your back and stare up at the ceiling, a smile creeping up your face. Last night was nice, strolling on the beach with Levi in the dead of night. You recall the way he said goodnight to you softly before closing his door in front of you.

You lie there for a moment longer, focusing on the noises coming from the other side of the bedroom door. The sounds of metal pans and dull chatter slip under the crack, too muffled to really make out words but there’s a few bursts of boisterous laughter from Erwin. You hope Levi got to sleep in as much as you did.

It takes a bit to assemble yourself, humming to yourself as you do. You even make your bed, thinking about what Levi might say if he saw you do that. The thought makes you blush. Once dressed, you do a double take in the mirror then nod to yourself before throwing the bedroom door open.

At first glance, you see Hange busy at the stove, their hair pulled up in a messy ponytail. Levi is at the bar drinking a cup of tea as he scrolls through his phone. His eyes slide over to your movement in his periphery but says nothing. Instead, he leans over and pours another cup of tea, dropping in a couple spoonfuls of sugar as well as some milk. He slides it to the seat next to him on the bar then goes back to his cup, not looking your way.

“There you are!! Good afternoon!!” Hange yells over to you while they flip what looks like a piece of grilled chicken.

After sitting down on the stool next to Levi, you give him a grateful smile. When you take a sip of the warm tea, you sigh internally at the smooth flavor. Levi knew how you liked your tea and never failed to get it perfect every time - you adored him for that. Setting it down carefully, you look around the rest of the living space.

‘Where’s Erwin?’

“He’s on the phone.” Levi says, pointing behind him.

You follow his finger and find it pointing to the main balcony attached to the living room. Erwin is pacing back and forth as he speaks through the mouthpiece, his best customer service smile brightening up his face. A laugh shakes his upper body as he continues to converse.

‘What is he doing?’

“Who knows with him.” Hange cuts in as they take the grilled chicken out of the pan and place it into a glass dish sitting off to the side. There are already a few pieces of the same chicken piled into it.

“They had a little farmer’s market this morning out in the square that I just had to visit. I saw a flier for it in the elevator yesterday. You would not believe the things they were selling.” Hange says cheerily. They reach over to you and set down a small bowl of mixed fruits before plucking a blueberry off the top and popping it into their mouth. “Speaking of, I know what we’re doing tomorrow night and you and Levi are not allowed to say no.” Hange then turns around to check on the sizzling meat.

You eye Levi, curious to see if he had any idea what Hange meant but he just rolls his eyes, grumbling something about ‘shitty-glasses’ under his breath. You shrug to yourself and start digging into your fresh fruit starting with the plump strawberries hiding at the bottom.

The sound of the sliding door opening and closing behind you makes your ears twitch. You swivel in your barstool mid-bite to the sight of Erwin walking over with a big smile. He’s wearing his light blue button down that matches his eyes perfectly, unbuttoned to show his white t-shirt underneath.

“That should be the last of the plans and reservations made for this week.” Erwin chirps. The weariness he wore yesterday is completely dissolved. In place is the essence of pure joy.

“Nice! Good job, Erwin. But uh- what are these ‘plans and reservations’?” Hange inquires as they lean against the island with their chin sitting in their palms, the spatula they were using currently dripping oil all over the counter. Levi scowls and shoves a paper towel underneath.

“Well, tomorrow we’re going to visit Liberio’s local museum. They have a lot of history and culture here that I think we would all be interested in. Then there’s a block party in the town square to celebrate the beginning of the summer. Hange should have told you that already, though.” Erwin chuckles as he sits himself down on the last barstool next to Levi. He pulls his phone out and starts scrolling for something.

You take this chance to side-eye Hange, shooting them a raised eyebrow. They lift their hands up in defense and turn to focus on the last chicken breast currently popping in the pan.

“Hmmm. Oh!” Erwin sits up as he finds what he was looking for. “The day after tomorrow, I scheduled a lovely all afternoon spa date for you two.” Erwin’s crystal blue eyes flick up over his phone screen to look at you and Hange, though their back is still turned.

“I can’t imagine you scheduled the spa for us, Erwin?” Levi mutters over his teacup before taking a sip.

“As much as I think it could be fun, no. You and I are going golfing.” Levi sputters on the dark liquid, staring at Erwin in disbelief.

“Seriously?”

“Just a small game. It’s been a while.” Erwin says nonchalantly as he continues to scroll through his digital itinerary.

“Just let me stay here.” Levi’s tone is dry, but you can’t help but laugh internally at the bratty disposition he gave off. His eyes narrow at his blonde friend.

“It’s too late, we’re both reserved for the course at 9am.”

Levi only huffs in return.

“Then we’ll meet up before going out to dinner. I’ve seen nothing but great reviews at this one place down the street. Apparently, the owner’s eighteen-year-old son is a prodigal chef.”

‘Oh yeah, I read about something like that before we left home. How did you get reservations so last minute?’ You pop a raspberry in your mouth while you eye him with surprise.

“I had these reservations set months ago. I just had to call and ask if we could add a couple more chairs.” You don’t press after that, pinching your lips together in a thin line.

“Last but not least is the Liberio Summer Festival.” He continues. “After that, we have one more day to rest up before we fly back home to Paradis.” Erwin locks his phone before placing it down onto the marble countertop. 

“I think these are all great ideas.” Hange comments with a smirk. Your blond friend scoffs in amusement.

“You thought of half of them, Hange.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve been thinking about stopping by some local shops too. Sounds like we’ll have time to do that tomorrow afternoon, huh?” Hange says as they shut the stove off and then turns to wiggle an eyebrow at you.

You’re in the middle of wiping off the sticky colorful fruit on a napkin as they direct the attention to you. You shrug but shoot over a reassuring smile regardless. You’ve never been one for shopping, but it made Hange happy and that was enough for you.

The rest of the conversation dwindles into today’s plans for the beach. Hange cuts in and excitedly showed off the chicken that they had just finished cooking. They were happy to announce that they just needed a little more time to prepare but then you all could leave. You hear them mention something about a beach picnic for dinner, but your ears quickly tune them out as you find your mind wandering elsewhere.

Levi’s steely gaze falls on you for a moment. You both exchanged a look. At the time, you think it’s from the ridiculous antics your sister was up to as usual. But if you had looked harder, you would have seen there was something else there dancing in his eyes. He looks away and back down to his almost empty teacup as he grumbles something to Hange.

You excuse yourself a bit later to gather your things for the beach and Hange follows so they can grab their own bag from their messy corner of belongings. You note their bathing suit top peeking out from their loose shirt and wonder how long they have been up.

“Don’t forget to change into your bathing suit.” Hange shoots you with a finger gun and then slips out of the door, shutting it and leaving you in silence. Your hands hung midair as you were signing to them before they had left. They drop to your sides as you roll your eyes.

 A sigh escapes your lips as you walk over to your suitcase sitting on the floor. You had stuffed your swimsuit in a small compartment meant to separate it from the rest of your clothes in the off chance it was still wet when you packed later. Reaching in, you feel the soft texture and you’re instantly suspicious. This isn’t the bathing suit you had packed.

When you pull it out, your fears are confirmed. Sitting in between shaking fingers is the pink two-piece Hange had semi-jokingly gifted for your birthday last month. You don’t know how they found it considering you had shoved it so far back into your closet.

You thrust your hand back in the same pocket to check just in case and come up empty. You dig through the rest of the neatly organized suitcase to make sure you didn’t place the original somewhere else. You find nothing.

Long gone is the black set you had packed a couple days ago, leaving you with this abomination as your only option. Considering you had to leave soon, there was no time to go out and buy another. If you had a voice, you would have screamed your now dead-to-you sister’s name. Instead, you stomp your feet and take a shaky breath. You resign yourself to your fate and start changing.

.

By the time you all make it down to the sand, your phone reads a few minutes before 4:30 in the afternoon. It had taken a little longer than planned to get the beach-side picnic packed. Hange had found a large wicker basket the owners currently used for blanket storage that they claimed would be great to transport food in. Levi had adamantly disagreed, but Hange promised they would clean it out before putting the blankets back in. That was that.

Now, you sit under the protection of a comically large umbrella in the comfort of your baggiest clothes. Levi sits next to you covered up about the same. He hadn’t worn shorts since you all had gotten here so seeing his extremely pale legs in the sunlight was almost blinding. Before you had even left, he covered himself in sunscreen, grumbling under his breath about ‘not taking any chances.’ He didn’t appreciate the laugh he got out of you for saying that.

The beach wasn’t too packed to begin with, something you and Levi both sighed in relief at. There was enough space in the back to find the spot you all settled into easily. A couple walks by as they swing their toddler between them, tiny giggles escaping into the summer breeze. A few teens scream in delight a little way off, laughing and yelling at each other. Erwin and Hange are digging around in the wet sand looking for shells in front of you, the sound of their chatter getting lost in the summer breeze.

A loud rumbling comes from your stomach as you stretch your legs out onto the beach blanket. Your face heats up from embarrassment at the noise and you hope it wasn’t loud enough for Levi to hear. Unfortunately, he has sensitive hearing.

“Hungry?” He looks over to you, his eyes shaded in black sunglasses. You can’t tell if he’s even looking at you.

You give him a small nod, puffing your cheeks out. This is what you get for only eating a bowl of fruit for lunch. Levi’s hair flutters in the wind, pushing it back and out of his face. You can already see the sweat sheening on his face from the excessive summer heat.

“Oi! Shitty-glasses!” He shouts to Hange who was currently on their way to you as he spoke.

“What, shorty?” They grab the water bottle they had set out earlier and unscrew it as they sit down on their towel a few feet away.

“When’s dinner? Your sister’s stomach is about to eat her from the inside out.” He points to you with a thumb.

“I’m thinking about another hour. Can you hang in there until then?” Hange frowns to you with concern.

You didn’t want to interrupt their fun, so you sign a ‘yes’, resulting in a wild grin from your sister. You could wait a little longer, you hope.

“Great! You two are missing out. Get your asses up!” Hange tucks their bottle under their clothes to keep it from the sun and push up from the ground.

Erwin trots over, saltwater dripping off of him with every step. With his blond hair slicked back, you could have sworn he was made for the beach. He resembles what you would imagine the god Apollo would look like. Meant for the sunshine.

“Why are you two still sitting here, fully clothed at that? The water is this way.” He points behind his shoulder. He beams his award-winning smile down to the two of you as he waits for a response. He doesn’t get much from Levi other than an eye roll. You fidget with the blanket underneath you, curling your fingers into the cloth. The anxiety you had pushed down from earlier starts to bubble up again.

‘I’m just keeping Levi company.’ You sign what you believe to be half-truth. Before you all had left Paradis, Levi had warned he wasn’t going into the ocean. He had said something about it being gross and that fish defecated in it all day. So, Levi wanted to stay on the blanket, and you decided to stay with him.

“Then I guess Levi has to go in.” Hange glances over to Erwin with a smirk. Erwin starts to step over to Levi, still dripping wet from his plunge earlier.

“Don’t even think about it.” Levi’s voice comes out in a low warning. You can already see the gears turning in everyone’s head and you were afraid of what might happen if you let things continue. In a hurry, you stand yourself up and place your hands out to calm everyone down.

‘Fine, fine. I’m coming. Leave Levi out of this.’ You sign with shaky hands. You dreaded this the moment you saw yourself in the mirror before leaving. Hange nods in approval and crosses their arms as they wait. The corner of their lips twitched in anticipation at what they knew was about to happen.

Your fingers tremble as your thumbs lock into the belt loops of your shorts. Carefully, you slide them down your legs, being careful not to fall over as you step out of them. As if you were pushing off the inevitable, you fold them neatly and place them on top of the beach bag that sat next to the food basket.

Taking a deep breath, you grip the soft fabric of your shirt and lift it over your head. You hear a sharp intake of breath followed by a little cough and you don't have to look over to see who did it. Your face is about the same shade as the bathing suit you had so desperately tried to hide.

Now, the suit was really cute, you won’t deny it. And it was very flattering on your body as well as against your skin tone. But it was not a style you would have chosen yourself nor like anything you’ve ever tried on before. It was salacious in nature despite the fact that it covered the important bits.

The top has built-in cups that push everything up and together, giving even those on the smaller side an illusion of a heavy bust. You were afraid that any wrong move you made would result in a spill out from how low cut it was on you. Your bottoms were high waisted, much to your relief. But with the high waist came the high hips so your thighs and most of your ass was on full display. It hugs your body just right, and you never felt more vulnerable.

Hange wolf-whistles at the sight of you, prompting you to use the shirt you still had in hand as a cover up. You can’t bring yourself to look at anyone, mortified at the unwanted attention.

“See, what did I say? She looks cute, does she not?” Hange wraps her arm around your shoulder, almost knocking you over. You hug the shirt closer to your chest as you stare down to the sand your toes are currently digging in.

“Hange, why do I have a feeling she didn’t pack the suit?” Levi’s voice cuts in. Your eyes flicker to him quickly before looking away. Despite Levi’s casual tone, the tips of his ears are bright red and you’re pretty sure it’s not from the heat.

“Okay fine, I swapped it out. But she looks good!”

“Her comfort is important, Hange. She’s obviously not comfortable.” The way Levi dismissed their question while simultaneously coming to your aid makes your heart jump.

“Okay you guys, there’s nothing to be done about it now.” Erwin looks to you now, a gentle smile gracing his also rose-colored cheeks. “You don’t have to go in. We can stop for another suit before the next beach day.”

You were uncomfortable, yes. But…

Your eyes glance over at the waves crashing towards the shore. Multiple people splash around with joy, indicating the water must be nice today. You were looking forward to this day, and you would be mad at yourself for allowing your discomfort to ruin it. You fold your shirt and place it on top of your shorts before putting on a smile for everyone.

‘No. I’ll be okay.’

“Thatta girl. Let’s get you slathered up with sunscreen first.” Hange walks around to one of the beach bags and grabs one of the aerosol sunscreen cans they had bought earlier in the day. Even for a hot day, the impact of the cool mist hitting your skin creates goosebumps all over your body. You cough at the chemicals going up your nose after they spritz your face.

Once satisfied, they toss the can back into the bag before turning and jogging back into the clear ocean where Erwin currently floats in. You twist around to face Levi, ignoring the palpitations your heart is currently going through. His gaze snaps up to yours, eyes still covered by his dark spectacles.

‘Are you coming?’ You shoot him a soft smile.

“Just go.” He mumbles quietly. His words hold no malice, but you can’t help but internally recoil at his short response. You nod in his direction and take off towards the water. Had you looked behind you, you’d notice that you never left Levi’s sight.  

You hesitate as you get to the shore, just as you did last night. The frothy seawater quickly makes its way to your bare feet, crashing over them and retreating just as fast. You laugh to yourself at the feeling of the sand displacing from the rushing water underneath your toes. The water is much warmer than when you had first greeted it so many hours ago. With a child-like grin, you run into the opposing current.

.

You had been splashing around with Hange for about 20 minutes when the sudden dizzy spell hits you. With the waves bouncing you up and down, you feel tingles in your feet that were currently suspended from floating in the salt water. You needed to get out.

Without saying anything to your companions, you start wading back to the shore as best you can. You didn’t realize how far out into the ocean you were until now. With each stroke you made back to land, the more static that filled your head. You blink hard a few times trying to fight the lightheaded feeling as your feet dig in the wet sand in an attempt to push yourself forward more.

By some miracle, you’re able to make it back to where the waves just crash on land before your legs collapse from under you. You’re able to catch yourself so you don’t face-plant into the firm sand beneath you, but your arms are shaky and the water slamming into you doesn’t help. Hange’s and Erwin’s shouts from behind come to you muffled. You shake your head, trying to knock back the nausea that came from feeling like the earth was spinning.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on your back as another pulls your chin over to look into the stormy gray eyes of Levi. His face is laced full of worry as his eyes scan your weary features. The blood rushing to your ears is almost as loud as the ocean and because of that, you have a hard time understanding anything he’s saying now. It takes a moment for you to realize he isn’t even talking to you, and instead to the people coming up from behind you.

Your eyes shut tight as you feel him lifting you off the ground and into his arms. He holds you close to his chest as he starts speed-walking back over to the spot you all had claimed. With the motion of his steps mixed in with the world already spinning around you, your nausea grows worse.

You grab the shirt Levi still had on in a tight fist, hoping it will help ground you. You notice his shirt is currently getting soaked from your wet body, adhering to his seemingly toned chest underneath. If you weren’t on the verge of throwing up, you would have been more aware of how fast his heart was racing holding you so closely with such little clothing on.

“Don’t worry about it.” Levi grunts down to you. He kneels into the soft blanket and sets you down gently before reaching over into the basket. Pulling out a soda, he makes quick work of popping it open and bringing it to your lips. You blink a few times at him. The worry behind his eyes is ever present as he watches you carefully. Your hesitation, however, makes him scowl.

“Drink.” He orders.

If you weren’t on the brink of passing out, you would have found this situation embarrassingly intimate. You put your mouth on the metal lip and Levi helps to tip it for you, carbonated sugar dancing on your tongue as it goes down. It’s like this for a couple minutes. Levi tipping it back every few minutes, and you're staring anywhere but his face.

Eventually, the world feels like it’s slowing down. The sounds around you trickle in with clarity and you’re finally more aware of your surroundings. Your eyes trail back over to Levi, still on his knees next to you with the can in hand. His eyes haven’t let your face, nor has the concern lessened. You shift around to get comfortable and notice that your shirt has been placed back over your head somehow.

Gently, you place your hand over Levi’s and push it down and out of your face.

‘I’m okay, now. I think.’  You sign, your hands still visibly shaking.

“You dumbass, this is why we should have eaten earlier.” Levi’s voice is gruff. He shoots daggers over to where your sister currently sits.

“I didn’t pay attention. That’s on me, I admit. We’re eating now, though.” Hange’s voice is drenched with guilt. They nod over to Erwin who was currently pulling out plates as well as miscellaneous covered dishes filled with what you expect is dinner.

“How is she?” Erwin asks as he pops open the top of the chicken salad Hange had made earlier.

Levi’s eyes meet your gaze again, waiting for your response.

‘Better.’ You offer a small smile. In truth, you did. The soda brought your heart back to a normal rhythm and you could finally feel your fingers.

“She says better.” Levi mumbles. He sits back down on the blanket before gingerly rubbing at his knee he had been kneeling on.

“Good, let’s dig in then.” Erwin smiles over to you as he hands you a plate filled with chicken salad, crackers, and various chopped up veggies.

Hange crawls over to you, most of their skin now dry from sitting out in the sun during this whole ordeal. They lean against you, resting their head on your shoulder. You can’t see their face very well from this angle, but you suspect they might be frowning.

“Sorry, my little berry. I’ve messed everything up for you today.” You see Levi open his mouth to say something, but you subtly shake your head. He closes it quickly and looks away.

You pat Hange’s head in reassurance with your other arm, feeling the grainy sand that currently sits between their hair strands. Erwin starts talking about something marine life related and you find yourself checking out as you slowly eat at your plate. And just like that, the group is back to silly conversations and taunting statements. The whole time, you find yourself throwing appreciative glances over to Levi and sometimes he’ll catch you, but he says nothing about it.

.

The sun hangs lower by the time you all finish cleaning up after yourselves. There were probably a couple hours until sunset. Erwin had asked if you wanted to come back into the water with them but denied their offer, instead opting to use this time to sunbathe. In all honesty, you still needed time to recalibrate after almost passing out. They were much more understanding and left you to your own devices. And Levi, of course, stayed behind with you.

Unfortunately, with the absence of Hange, you struggle a bit with the sunscreen. You were able to get everything in the front but when it came to getting your back, you found yourself fighting with the canister. That is, until you feel slim fingers taking it from you after you spray your hair for the third time.

“Tch, if you need help just say so.” Levi grumbles from behind you. Your heart jumps by his sudden proximity to you, his voice practically right by your ear. You hear him shaking the can before quickly spraying a layer of mist along your back, making sure to get your shoulders well covered as well.

“Some of the sunscreen isn’t sitting right. You might need to rub it in.” You glance back at Levi, eyebrow raised. You raise your hands to where he can see without having to turn around.

‘I can’t reach back there, dummy. Will you help?’ You keep a calm and collected face. Internally, however, you were freaking out at your request. With Hange gone, you had no one else to ask. A moment passes. Just as you think he had left in refusal of your bold invitation, you feel his slender fingers rubbing the oily sunscreen into your soft skin.

This isn’t the first time Levi has touched you, recalling the brief hand holding in the past. Not to mention him carrying you an hour ago. But this is the first time he did it with the sole intention of touching you, even if it was to help you stay protected from the sun. You’re not sure if he was doing it deliberately or not, but the pressure his nimble fingers used to massage the oils in was enough to make you shift your weight in an attempt to fight the feeling that was burning at your core. Levi’s fingers leave you all too soon.

“How’s that?” His voice comes out thickly. You turn back around to face him with a forced smile.

‘Great, thank you.’ He nods stiffly and turns back around before curling back up under the umbrella. You stand awkwardly before remembering why he helped you in the first place.

Taking Hange’s towel they had laid out, you fluff it up to get the sand off before stretching out on top of it. You’re still self-conscious of the fabric that hugs your body, so you find yourself lying face down and in the direction of the umbrella. You fold your arms under your head and rest your cheek against them. A content sigh escapes your lips from the sun rays kissing your skin. 

 It stays like this. You can hear Levi a few feet away, shuffling in place every couple of minutes. You also hear the cacophony of seagulls off in the distance, probably in search of food. There’s more laughter, some from Erwin’s very distinctive spirited self. All this mixed with the crashing of waves really adds to your blissful mood.

Your mind wanders, gravitating towards Levi as it always does. You can’t imagine this is his favorite place to be right now, despite his willingness to walk with you last night. You pull your head up to where your chin rests in between both folded arms and you stare over to Levi. He currently sits with his feet tucked under him in a crossed position, currently messing with something on his phone. Sitting up on both elbows, you snap to get his attention.

His face raises up slightly, but you can’t tell if he’s even looking at you with how dark his sunglasses were. Had you read his mind, you’d have known he was doing his best not to glance down where your breasts currently sit squished against the towel. His face gives nothing away, but his heart skips a few beats at the sight of you and the thoughts that lingered. Levi clears his throat before sitting forward and setting his phone down. You had his undivided attention.

“What?”

‘Just checking on you.’ You purse your lips at him. You get a sense of simmering attitude just threatening to bubble up in him.

“I’m fine.” He mumbles, shrugging his shoulders.

‘You don’t sound fine.’ You narrow your eyes at him.

“Well, it’s hot and this grainy shit is very annoying.” He sweeps at the sand that had transferred onto the blanket earlier. You raise an eyebrow at him and frown.

‘Why didn’t you stay back then?’

“Someone needed to make sure you wouldn’t drown.”

‘You don’t trust Erwin or Hange?’ Levi huffs at that.

“That’s funny.” He says without humor.

‘Want me to go drown so you don’t have to worry about me anymore?’ You stick your tongue out at him.

“Sure, just make it quick. I think I can fit in some time to clean the kitchen before Hange comes back to wreck it.” Your shoulders shake in silent laughter at his serious disposition. The corners of his mouth quirk up as well. You puff your cheeks out, your smile fading from your face slowly.

‘It’s not fair to you if you’re so miserable, Levi.’

“I’ll be fine. Stop worrying about me and focus on yourself, tch.” Levi mindlessly pulls at the small grains of sand still plaguing the area around him. A moment later, he pushes his sunglasses up so it’s holding his hair back, his whole face on display for you. “Are you having fun?”

You rest your chin in your palm as you eye him, giving him a nod in response. Due to the angle, Levi’s unblinking gaze peers through his long eyelashes. That feeling you had earlier, that burning sensation through your core. It’s ever present as you both continue to watch each other. Your eyes flicker down to his pouty lips before looking away shyly. After some silence between you two, you decide to lie back down, tucking your face into the crook of your elbow.

After a while, your back starts feeling like it’s on fire, so you turn over to give your front an opportunity for some sunlight. You tilt your head back to peep a glance up at Levi to see what he was doing, only to catch him staring straight back. He mumbles a sorry and looks back down at his phone clenched in white knuckles. You can’t help it, a smug smile teases at your lips as you flatten back out. Maybe this bathing suit isn’t so bad, you start to think.

You get about another fifteen minutes of peace until you hear Hange’s quiet laughter. Your first mistake is believing they were coming back for a drink break, so you kept your eyes closed. A shadow passes by and then suddenly you feel a cascade of warm water fall on your face.

You’re in such shock that you sit straight up and splutter at the water that has gone up your nose and straight down your throat. Everything burns from the excessive salt. You wipe your eyes in time to see the culprits running back to the ocean. Hange is laughing so hard that they’re not paying attention and end up tripping on their own feet. They take a nosedive into the surf.

You push yourself up from the now soaked towel and run after them, almost losing footing in the hot, soft sand. You’re still able to find enough momentum though. Erwin’s in the middle of laughing at Hange’s misfortune with his back turned to you that he doesn’t see you in time to stop you from tackling him from behind.

Erwin, of course, isn’t fazed by any of this. He stands almost half a foot taller than you with broad shoulders, so you were not taking him down any time soon. At best, you were able to koala around him.

You’re not sure how he did it but suddenly you were being picked up like a surfboard by his big hands and then tucked under an arm like a football. No amount of kicking and hitting makes him stop his amble into the ocean. During this whole time, your hoarse laughter escapes from your lungs.

Before you know it, he stops just as the water is up to his knees and stands staring off in the distance. Erwin is purposefully oblivious to your protests as he scans the distance with his hand as a visor to block out the setting sun. Suddenly, he stiffly picks you up like a surfboard again and your eyes widen at the realization of what he is planning to do. With your feet still kicking as they dangle below you, in one swift movement Erwin chucks you a good few feet away into the air. You only have time to pinch your nose before you crash back into the blue water like a cannonball.

When you break the surface, you come out laughing and coughing at the salty water you accidentally ingested. Hange is back on the surf and sitting down as the waves crash around them, laughing along with you. Erwin, however, is back at the umbrella talking to Levi. They’re too far away to hear what they’re talking about, but you can tell it’s a calm argument. Much to your surprise, you see Levi getting up just as Erwin turns around to head back. He has a satisfied grin, mixed with slight mischief. This wasn’t going to go well.

Eventually, Levi makes his way down to right where the furthest waves meet the sand and stands next to Erwin. His shoes are off as is his shirt. All that adorns his short stature is a pair of swim trunks and his sunglasses. Lean muscles ripple all throughout his body as he stands with both feet planted into the moist sand. He crosses his arms over his chest, eyebrows knit in annoyance.

“Okay, I’m here. Happy?” He calls out to all of you, voice loud to be heard over the waves.

Hange looks over at the source and raises their arms in excitement while screaming, “Yay Levi! Glad to see you make it. Come on in, the water’s fine!”

“Tch, yeah, no thanks. That water is fucking disgusting.” His eyes land on you as you bob up and down from the waves, his gaze noticeably softening when he sees you smiling at him. Unfortunately for Levi, you were too good of a distraction for Erwin’s antics.

You watch in bewilderment as Erwin lifts Levi up from the armpits like a toddler. The horror-stricken look that blanketed Levi’s face would have been comical if you weren’t so afraid for Erwin’s life. You’ve never seen someone go through the 5 stages of grief in such a short amount of time. Levi accepted defeat the moment right before he’s tossed into the water a few feet from you.

You guard your face from the inevitable splash, mouth agape at the audacity of Erwin’s actions. Hange starts laughing even harder until a wave larger than the others comes out of nowhere and hits them square in the face. Erwin loses it after that.

When Levi resurfaces, his anger is palpable. He starts to wade towards Erwin who was currently doubled over on his knees in a fit of laughter but your fingers clamp over Levi’s forearm to stop him. In a knee jerk reaction, he yanks his arm out of your grip and whirls around on you. The dark look in his eyes diminishes quickly as he realizes it’s you. The anger never leaves his face though, every muscle tense with his jaw locked.

You grip Levi’s arm gently and start tugging him opposite of where your friends currently sat laughing. Keeping yourself afloat in one place was hard enough on your own, but dragging someone behind you was another story. Fortunately for you, Levi doesn’t resist as you trudge through the sand and ocean currents to the shore. Eventually you both make it until you’re ankle deep in water and you turn to face him.

Levi’s face is contorted less so than before, only showing pure annoyance. His eyes don’t meet yours, instead staring off to somewhere off in the distance. You release his arm and reach over with both hands to cup his face in them, twisting his face in your direction. His eyes widen, stunned at your sudden touch.

One of his hands reaches up, three fingers curling around the back of your hand and pulls it down off his face. He continues to hold on to your hand though, refusing to let go. 

“Don’t even think about apologizing.” His voice comes out gravelly. His eyes narrow over your shoulder, probably to Erwin if you had to guess. You pull your hand out of his to sign, but you can feel the lingering warmth of his skin still pressing into your palm.

‘I won’t. Are you okay?’

“No.”

‘Do you want to leave?’ Levi’s eyes drift back to yours, and you can see the gears turning in his head.

“The beach or the ocean?” He kicks his feet in the clear shallow water. Levi is obviously uncomfortable. You recall the way he had stuck up for you earlier in his own Levi way, and it was your turn to help him, if he wanted it. 

His gaze softens as he stares back at your sun kissed face. He grips your wrist and starts walking back to the group’s belongings, tugging you along with him. As he passes Hange and Erwin who are currently eying the two of you, he flips them both off. You don’t get to see their reaction as you’re being pulled away quickly.

When you both get back, Levi grabs two towels stuffed into one of the bags. He hands one to you before using his own to ruffle his hair dry. When he pulls the towel off, your heart threatens to explode at the sight. Levi’s hair sticks up in different ways and you can’t stop the blush from creeping into your cheeks. He wasn’t being fair, being this attractive.

You walk over to your clothes, planning to pack everything up once you dry yourself off more. He surprises you, however, by sitting down in the shadows of the early evening sun instead of getting his things to leave. His knees pull up against his chest as he looks up to you and offers a hand. Was his face pink from the heat or…?

“I’m fine. Just come sit.”

‘Are you sure?’ You frown down at him as you wring the saltwater out of your hair. He says nothing and instead continues to watch you intently. You roll your eyes at him and lightly take his hand. You lower yourself down next to him, shoulder to shoulder with him facing the horizon.

You were fine spending the rest of your life watching the ocean glitter gold under the setting sun with him by your side. Content, even.

.

You could have sworn you only blinked once, but the bright sands you were once staring at suddenly turned into the soft cloudy lavender sky and the jaw of one Levi Ackerman. He carries you against his bare chest, both arms cradling you in a bridal style. Your eyes blink slowly from sleep, the distance between blinks growing longer with every rhythmic step that Levi took. You were about to be lulled back into sleep. As if one more defiant act, you glance up. Those eyes of his, your favorite shade of steely gray, stare down at you just as you shut your eyelids for the last time. You hear him whisper just as you’re drifting away.

“I’ve got you.” 

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☾ Previous Chapter: June Part One

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Around the Corner (Part 8)

Oliver puts his plan into action and the Reader makes a surprising- and wonderful- discovery.

Oliver Wood x Ravenclaw!Reader

3.3k words

Part 7

Warnings: lots of fluff, dialogue taken directly from ‘You’ve Got Mail’ because Nora Ephron is the best

A/N: Here it is, the finale! Thank you so much for reading. This might be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. I’m really sad to be done, but I’m super excited to share this story with you 💕

~

A few more weeks passed of Oliver sending letters back and forth with Y/N. He took care to avoid the topic of meeting during that time and provided only non-committal answers to her questions.

In the meantime, he enjoyed his budding friendship with the girl he now willingly admitted he was absolutely infatuated with. The two found themselves spending a lot of time together; sometimes they talked about the pen pal situation, with Oliver coming up with more and more ridiculous explanations about who the pen pal was, but more often than not they talked about everyday things like quidditch, their classes, what they did at home during the summer. And Oliver relished every opportunity to get to talk to Y/N as himself, no hiding behind letters; just Oliver.

This new normal led to a Saturday morning sitting by the lake, enjoying the bright sunshine and no impending quidditch matches or tests. Oliver had set down his sweatshirt on the grass for Y/N to sit on and laid himself down on his back, propped on his elbows. He glanced up at Y/N, pretending that he wasn’t soaking in every drop of her beauty.

“Alright, what’d he say?”

A smile spread across Y/N’s face as she unfolded her latest letter. “Read for yourself.”

Pretending he had not just written this exact letter, Oliver skimmed the parchment quickly. “This afternoon?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t too obvious in his acting. Y/N nodded enthusiastically as Oliver handed the letter back to her. “On the quidditch field. How romantic.”

“He knows it’s pretty much my favorite place on the grounds,” she explained, folding the note back up and sticking it in her jeans pocket.

Oliver gazed at her, admiring the slight flush in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eye, thinking about how he’d grown to love so much about her these last few weeks; the way the stuck her tongue out slightly when she was deep in thought, her knack for just the right trivia fact or book reference to sprinkle into a conversation, the head tilt she swore she did not do when she was focused on whatever task was at hand. Then there was her confidence, whether on the quidditch pitch, in the classroom, or just goofing around in front of her friends; her bold kindness, not soft or gentle like other people Oliver knew, but an aggressive love she showed to the people she cared about; and of course, her physical beauty, which he’d always begrudgingly admitted to noticing, but now fully basked in. All these things combined into one incredible person that Oliver wished he had known all these years. Merlin, he’d wasted too much time.

As he studied her, Oliver began to wonder. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Hmm?” She looked down at Oliver, smiling what he now thought of as a dazzling smile. “What’s up?”

He thought a moment, choosing his words with care. “D’you ever think, if you weren’t you, and I wasn’t me, if things hadn’t been broken for so long…” He trailed off with a shrug, looking up into her eyes, seeing the same pondering expression he knew his held.

She hummed thoughtfully and turned her gaze to the lake. “We would’ve been friends sooner,” she supposed. “Best friends, probably.” With a shrug, she looked back down at Oliver.

Oliver sat up now, nodding. “Best friends,” he echoed. He met her eyes, searching them for a reaction as he continued. “And one day, I would’ve looked at you, and something in my head would just click.” He snapped his fingers. “And I’d ask you out for a butterbeer, or ice cream, or dinner… and I wouldn’t have been able to wait until the end of the date to lean in for that first kiss.”

There it was, the very thing he was hoping for: a deep flush in her cheeks, her eyes widening slightly with each word out of his mouth.

“Oliver…” she sighed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear; a nervous habit of hers, Oliver had discovered. She let out the smallest chuckle, clearly lost for words.

He continued. “And we would’ve never been at war, we’d never played those stupid pranks on each other, or said a cruel word to one another. The only thing we’d fight about would be whose common room to hang out in on a Friday night.”

A tiny smile formed on those lips Oliver found himself staring at far too often. “Now, who fights about a silly thing like that?” she asked quietly.

Oliver shook his head gently. “Some people. Not us.”

“We would never,” she agreed.

“If only,” he sighed, almost too quiet to hear.

A pause filled the air, along with the electricity between the two of them. Somewhere in the distance they could hear the sounds of people chattering and hanging out, but in this moment, they were in a world of their own. Oliver almost wished he could freeze this moment, where they were on the same page, both wishing they could somehow turn back time and do things differently. Do things right.

She cleared her throat, starting to get up. “I… I should go, er, get ready-”

Oliver took her hand, urging her to sit back down. “Well, let me ask you something.” Y/N resumed her seat, her cheeks still deep red. Oliver took a breath before continuing. “How can you forgive this guy for standing you up, and not forgive me for this tiny little thing… of making your life miserable since we were twelve?” His hand reached up to gently touch her cheek, which was just as soft as he expected it to be, if not a bit warm. He dipped his head, looking up at her through his lashes. “Oh, how I wish you would.”

They stared at each other, Oliver’s hand still on her cheek. He could see the rapid calculations going on behind her eyes, the same way she would look around the quidditch pitch to find an open teammate to pass to. He could almost swear he saw some tears there, too.

She swallowed hard. “I really have to go,” she finally whispered.

Oliver let go. “Yeah. You don’t want to be late.”

When Y/N stood up, Oliver could see her legs shaking slightly. She bent down and picked up Oliver’s hoodie, handing it to him. “I’ll see you later?” It was more question than statement.

“Of course,” Oliver answered with a small smile, taking the balled up sweatshirt. “I want to hear all about your meeting.”

The tension in Y/N’s shoulders relaxed a bit. “Really?”

Oliver nodded. “Absolutely. Believe me, Y/N, I want you to be happy.”

“Thank you, Oliver.” She turned and walked away briskly, her head down, arms crossed. About halfway across the grass, she turned and looked back at Oliver, who offered a tiny wave.

Once she turned back around and continued towards the castle, Oliver checked the watch on his wrist. He jumped up; he had somewhere to be as well.

~

“I have nothing to wear,” I grumbled as I dug through my trunk, poking through various pairs of jeans, t-shirts, and sweaters that were tucked in among my uniforms, undoing the house-elves’ meticulous folding.

“Want to borrow something of mine?” Penelope distractedly offered from her spot on her bed, where she copied notes from a textbook, watching my panic with only vague interest.

I shook my head. “You don’t have anything to wear either.” Closing my eyes, I paused my search and turned to face Penelope. “Crap. I’m sorry, Pen. I didn’t mean-”

She waved me off, unbothered. “You’re fine,” she chuckled. “You’re nervous.”

“Very,” I admitted, turning my attention back to my trunk. “Seriously, what is wrong with me? Why do I have such rubbish taste in clothes?”

“Okay, okay, I’m here to rescue you.” Maggie stood in the doorway, hands behind her back. “Wear. This.” With a flourish, she revealed the same little blue dress I’d worn to the party in the Gryffindor common room.

The tip of my nose grew warm just thinking of that party. “I dunno Maggie…”

She shoved the dress at me. “You look great in it. I remember the look on Wood’s face when you were wearing that thing. And he wasn’t the only guy looking. I promise, you’re gonna knock this boy’s socks off.”

I stared down at the dress in my hands. It was a cute dress. And there was no denying, especially after this morning, that Oliver had clearly liked the way I looked in it; shouldn’t this guy like it too?

“Fine, fine,” I grumbled, suppressing a grin. “I’ll wear the dress.”

About fifteen minutes later, I stared at myself in the mirror, unable to help admiring how I looked. The dress was even more flattering that I remembered, I’d put on a touch of makeup, and Penelope had done something miraculous to my hair. I slipped on a pair of sneakers, which Maggie assured me was just cute and casual enough.

I gave a quick twirl in front of my friends. “What do we think?”

“Approved,” Maggie declared, giving a thumbs up.

“Very cute,” Penelope agreed, a smile on her face.

With a deep breath and a wave to the girls, I walked out the door and began what I knew would be a long walk to the quidditch pitch.

~

Oliver sat on his bed, parchment in hand. Of all the letters he and Y/N had exchanged, this was the one that mattered the most. He’d read it so many times he lost count; but he just had to read it once more.

Dear Oliver-

I’ve got to tell you before I explode: I’m mad about you. Absolutely over the moon.

You’re the best-looking boy in our year, by far. You have the most beautiful eyes, and your smile lights up any room. When you look at me, I feel like I could melt. And when you talk to me, I feel like my heart is about to jump out of my chest.

I’ve liked you since our very first day of Hogwarts. I don’t think you remember the first time we saw each other, but I remember it clear as day. You were looking for a seat on the train, and our eyes locked for a brief moment. You didn’t sit with me, but I wish you had.

I don’t know if you like me back, but I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re amazing Oliver. And I know you’re going to be a famous quidditch player in the future. I can’t wait to watch you play in the Quidditch World Cup someday.

I’m not going to tell you who I am- yet. Maybe someday I will. And maybe someday you’ll like me as much as I like you.

-Your Secret Admirer

Oliver smoothed the parchment carefully, letting the words wash over him. She’d liked him so much. It was painfully clear looking back; that little twelve-year-old girl used to talk to him every chance she got, asked him questions she definitely already knew the answer to, and he’d caught her staring at him on more than one occasion. He remembered now how, after he’d cruelly read the letter in front of everyone, she stopped talking to him. When he tried to tease her the way he often did, she’d snapped at him. He then decided she was a stuck-up snob, and thus their war began.

But there it was, in his hands, proof that, at least for a moment in time, she had been desperately in love with him. And Oliver was ready to find out if she could be again.

~

Has the pitch always been this far? I asked myself as I walked. Somehow, in my quidditch robes with my teammates, it had always seemed like a short stroll from Ravenclaw tower or the Great Hall. But now? I felt like I was hiking across the country.

On my way I saw some people out and about, enjoying the day; I ignored the curious glances from some classmates who were clearly thrown off by my not-so-typical outfit choice. In the distance, I could see the familiar stands and hoops, so I focused my attention there instead of the looks on people’s faces.

Despite the excruciatingly long walk, I stood before the entrance to the pitch much sooner than I had anticipated. My palms became wet as my face warmed up. Would he be there this time? Or was I about to be disappointed all over again?

For the millionth time in the last few weeks, my thoughts tiptoed away from my pen pal to Oliver Wood. He was the first boy I’d ever written a love letter to, after all. Part of me wondered if I’d done the right thing by the lake, choosing this meeting over him. I shoved down the queasy feeling in my stomach, willing myself to ignore the question.

Instead, I walked boldly onto the field, eyes scanning the green for any sign of life. I was a bit surprised to find that no one was hanging out in the stands and that none of the teams took advantage of the free day to practice; in the back of my head I supposed that only Oliver and I were that excessive.

It felt strange to walk around an empty pitch, but I couldn’t help but enjoy the quiet moment, the calm before the- no, not storm. Something better. Much better, I hoped.

Please come, I begged internally as I walked in a circle in the middle of the field. Don’t let me down again.

As I turned around, I spotted a figure strolling through the entrance of the pitch. My heart nearly stopped as I paused mid-step. With a deep breath, I steadied myself and tried to make out the figure walking towards me. After a moment, I saw them perfectly.

“Oliver!” I called with a laugh. “Come on, get out of here.”

As he got closer, I recognized the expression on his face. It was the one he wore when he had something serious to do; a quidditch match, a big test, asking Professor McGonagall to get the twins out of Saturday detention so they could play. And now he wore it as he approached me, one hand behind his back.

When he stood in front of me, I opened my mouth to ask what he was doing-

“Your favorite holiday is Christmas,” he began slowly. “George Harrison is your favorite Beatle because you think ‘Here Comes the Sun’ is the most beautiful song of all time. You make your mum send you photos of your dog every week because you miss him so much. You played football from the time you could walk, and you and your dad go see a match together every summer.”

“What are you-?”

Before I could finish my question, he pulled his hand out from behind his back, revealing the library’s copy of Pride and Prejudice. “You’ve read all of Jane Austen’s novels, and you’ve read this one every year since you were twelve,” he continued. “And you laugh out loud at Mr. Collins’ stupid comments at dinner and you think ‘I send no compliments to your mother’ is the greatest insult of all time and you cry every time Mr. Darcy says-” He took a deep breath. “‘If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.’”

My body was frozen as he gazed at me expectantly. This recital of facts were all things I had told my pen pal in my letters.

My pen pal.

With a gasp, my hands flew to my mouth as realization dawned on me. For once in my life, I was standing in front of Oliver Wood, speechless. He gave a deep nod as he saw the understanding in my eyes and reached into the book for a piece of parchment.

“And you wrote me this letter in our second year,” he explained slowly, his eyes searching mine for a reaction as he held up the parchment. “A letter I obviously didn’t deserve. And I was cruel, and I hurt you. And you understandably hated me.” He let out a small chuckle and shook his head. “So, now I’m standing in front of you, half agony, half hope, wondering if we could, at the very least, be friends? Because you’ve become one of the most important people in my life, and I dunno what I’d do if- if you stopped talking to me.” He took a deep breath, now finished with his speech. Waiting for my answer.

Before my thoughts could even begin to settle, I lifted myself onto tiptoe to wrap my arms around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. My twelve-year-old self was dancing in circles as Oliver’s lips met mine and his hands found my waist, pulling me closer. His lips were soft against mine, the way I always knew they would be. He let out a small hum into the kiss, the vibration from his chest sending a chill down my spine. He pulled back, planted one more peck on my lips, and smiled at me.

“So you’re not mad?” he asked, leaning his forehead against mine.

“A bit annoyed at myself for not realizing it sooner,” I admitted, laughing. “When did you know it was me?”

“That day at the Three Broomsticks,” he explained. “I saw it was you and… well I almost ran away honestly. But Percy scolded me into going inside.” He bit his lip. “But I was still too cowardly to tell you who I was. ‘m sorry about that.”

I shook my head, which was still reeling. “I don’t blame you,” I assured him. “We… we were awful to each other. It’s like you said this morning, if only things hadn’t been so broken…”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Just means we have some lost time to make up for.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “I’m game if you are.”

“Have you ever known me to back down from a challenge, Wood?”

Oliver laughed and let go of me, throwing his arm around my shoulders as he led me off the pitch, the book in his free hand at his side. “Come on then. I think I still owe you a drink at the Three Broomsticks.”

We strolled across the green grass and out of the pitch, both of us smiling, breathy chuckles escaping every time we looked at each other- which was a lot. His arm felt good wrapped around me, as if it belonged there.

“Y’know, I’ve got about a million questions,” I informed Oliver as I leaned my head on his shoulder.

“And you know I’ll answer all of ’em,” he assured me, planting a kiss on the top of my head, ignoring the gawking stares of everyone we passed by. I knew it would be a while before those stares died down.

“That was a very pretty speech back there,” I teased.

He chuckled as we made our way towards the familiar path to Hogsmeade. “Thanks. Been practicing it all week.”

“Yeah, I especially liked… oh what was it you said?” I feigned thinking for a moment. “‘Half agony, half hope’?” I asked with a smirk. “You also read Persuasion, eh?”

Oliver laughed and pulled me closer. “What can I say? You’ve turned me into a Jane Austen fan. I’m tackling Northanger Abbey next.”

“I told you she’s the best,” I said with a dreamy sigh.

Oliver stopped, wrapping his arms around me like he had on the quidditch pitch. “Yeah, but I think you’re my favorite writer.” He kissed me again; I wondered if I’d ever get used to the fireworks I felt when our lips met. “Promise you’ll still write me love letters?”

“Promise.”

[1296-very-good-year]

Just for fun, here are some excerpts from the last wow novel that explored Anduin's mental state (Shadow's Rising) immediately PRIOR to his kidnapping, torture, mind control, and however many years wandering around alone with crippling ptsd:

1) They had reached the fences. Anduin grasped one of the crossbeams and squeezed, the old, battered wood creaking. He wanted to break it. He wanted it to snap. A surge of anger made him close his eyes, as if he were afraid of what Alleria might see there.

The hunt would continue, and he, as king, would find a way to keep faith in their odds of victory. That was his duty. A man had to know his limits, but he could not reach that limit, not yet; too many depended on him now.

The fence beam snapped. Just another thing to fix.

Another in a long, long line of things to mend.

2) He strangely wanted to stay in the crypt, to sit there among the dead and know their pain, their stories. It seemed easier than facing another day of frustration and failure.

3) Jaina: “Alleria and Turalyon tortured that smuggler in front of me. She used the Void to infiltrate his mind while he held him prisoner with chains made from the Light. It looked unspeakably painful.” She rounded the table, searching his face. “My king…I worry that their tactics represent you poorly. Every one of us, every soldier, is in service to your crown. We stand under your banner, and if their actions are sanctioned by your rule, what does that say about us?”

Anduin did not speak for a long while, though his smile diminished. He shook his head, turning away from her, pacing back and forth across the lush green carpet beneath their feet. Finally, he crossed to a large brazier in the corner belching healthy flames. Flattening his hand, he passed it back and forth just above the reach of the fire.

“What does it say?” he echoed. He sounded almost offended that she had to ask. “It says we will do whatever we must to bring murderers to justice. It says we will not forget those lost in war. It says we will not forget Teldrassil, or Lordaeron. It says we will not forget the mak’gora. It says that we will not forget the flames blazing over the Veiled Sea, or the fires reflected in the eyes of a thousand mourning children.”

4) His skin looked worn and blue around the eyes, exhausted smudges painted beneath.

Thrall knew that look well, had experienced it himself many times —the sleepless, sallow ravages of leadership. It had been mere months since he had last clapped eyes on the king of Stormwind, yet he seemed to have aged a full year.

5) Anduin found himself before the great carved fireplace in his bedroom on the floor, legs tucked up to chest, catatonic, eyes unable to close, mind unable to clear, the flames just inches before him searing into his vision until tears poured down his cheeks.

6) Anduin after meeting some young alliance soldiers in a bar while in disguise: They lapsed into song, forgetting all about their new “friend.” But Anduin wouldn’t soon forget them. He looked at each of their faces in turn, memorizing them, wondering how long it would take until they too turned up on a freezing slab beneath the Cathedral of Light, innocent lambs before the slaughter.

7) Anduin to Jaina: "Sometimes I need to be a boy again. I think about all the soldiers giving their life to serve the Alliance, and I think: How? How can they be so young? Those three brave souls inside, they think they’re ready to die. Ready to die for me. It isn’t fair. It…it should make everything stop. The whole world should stop and point at that, but it doesn’t. Everything just rolls on, the world forgets, and I have to pretend like their sacrifice isn’t a cruel, heartbreaking joke.”

8) Anduin made a soft sound of disgust and stood, hovering over her, considering her for a long and tense spell. A wisp of purple energy traveled down his arm, gathering in his palm. It happened in a blink, coming and going, dissipating before Mathias could see for certain what the king had done.

It startled Anduin enough to make him stumble backward. Shaw felt Jaina’s eyes upon him, and he glanced her way. If he was rattled before, the fear etched upon Jaina’s brow shook him to the core. Anduin winced, breathing hard, shaking out his hand before leaning back against the wall. Shaw knew better than to be staring when the king’s eyes began to roam their faces for a reaction.

So.. you know... He hasn't been great for a while.

Also, just considering it now, when Anduin winces and shakes out his hand after calling on the void, is that implying that the Light/Divine Bell hurt him for it? Cuz that's what it reads like to me 🤔

And if the Light has left him, does the Bell still bother him? Or is that gone too? Questions questions.

[withclawandvine]

what we pretend to be chapter 3

Summary: Azriel was a veteran spy, well suited to the sneaking and solitude that comes with a life in the shadows. He was good at it. He wasn’t good at undercover missions, so he couldn’t hide his shock when new recruit and undercover specialist Elain Archeron was already seated at the conference table, looking beautiful as ever. And then it was dropped on them like a bomb: Azriel and Elain would be sent to the suburbs, posing as a married couple to gather intel on a suspicious man who, according to reports, was in communication with notorious arms dealer, Koschei Sokolov.

Author’s note: oh boy this has been a long time coming. i could blame it on my new job or a number of other Life Things but the truth is i’ve been suffering from bnha brainrot (which if you’ve spent any time on my blog, should not come as a surprise haha) but i really wanted to get this done so i could start working on stuff for elriel month this year! so please enjoy, and let the pining begin babeyy !!

Tags: SFW, undercover au, fake married

Word count: 2.1k

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42105033

As soon as the deadbolt clicked into place, Azriel let himself sag against the door. “Fuck,” he sighed. “I thought they’d never leave.”

From the moment Brian and Lynn Forth had entered the house, a headache lurked at Azriel’s temples. Now, in merciful quiet and with nothing else to distract him, the pain pounced. Not for the first time, Azriel wondered if you could be annoyed into physical pain.

From her place on the couch, Elain looked at him with amusement dimpling her cheek. “They were only here for twenty minutes.”

Although he doubted Elain would lie about something so trivial, Azriel checked his watch. Sure enough, it was barely 8:00. That single conversation had felt like a small eternity, or like he’d died and gotten stuck in purgatory, atoning for his past sins on an overpriced couch, while his neighbors smiled through every sentence. It might not have felt so punishing had they learned anything significant, but as it was, the Forths were as vapid as they were irritating.

Lynn had prattled on about the widely-adored previous owners of the house and their eventual retirement to the coast. How eagerly everyone had anticipated and speculated about who would move in next, the disappointment when the previous buyers had backed out at the last minute. And finally, the surprised excitement when word got around that a young couple would be moving in. And young you are—about our son’s age, if I had to guess. There was a pause, Lynn clearly waiting for them to confirm or deny her suspicions, but Elain had merely grinned at Azriel while patting his knee, “Aww, she thinks you’re young.”

Azriel didn’t have to fabricate the fondness in the roll of his eyes.

“Thirty’s not that far off for you, you know,” he’d said, mostly sure it was true. He didn’t actually know how old Elain was. For all he knew, she was already thirty, but he knew that this was the time to be vague. It was better to deflect with a jest of his own than assign an exact age to her.  

“And she did mention the wife,” Elain added when Azriel rejoined her on the couch, this time sitting down across from her—the cushion still uncomfortably warm from Brian—instead of next to her. That was Alex’s spot.

Azriel would hardly consider information they already had on record much of a consolation, but Lynn's comment about the woman’s age was interesting. There wasn’t anything about that in the files. “If she really is about your age, it might be easier for you to form a connection.”

“Galkin will surely get in the way, though.”  

The poor girl seems lonely—hardly ever leaves the house, with or without Ivan. Lynn had said, shaking her head with a troubled frown. Elain and Azriel exchanged a glance, unsurprised by this revelation, but unsure how to probe further. Brian, perhaps observing the small exchange and misreading it as discomfort, had cut in with an apologetic grimace, Lynn, dearest, they’ve only been here a few hours. Let’s not drag them into neighborhood gossip just yet.  

Azriel drug his hands over his face tiredly before his fingers finally settled at his temples, pressing into the tender flesh.

“You okay?” Elain asked, taking care to keep her voice low.

“Just a headache,” he said, but it made Elain frown, as if he’d told her something deeply troubling.

And then she gave a bit of a jolt, “We haven’t eaten yet today!”

Lack of nourishment was one of several potential culprits; he still wasn’t going to rule out the neighbors.

Elain reached for the welcome basket Lynn just threw together! for them on their coffee table and pulled at the artfully curled ribbon holding the crisp cellophane wrapping in place. Azriel watched her set aside the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, a scented candle, and a bag of locally roasted coffee before finding the list of her and Brian’s favorite delivery places and skimming it over.

“Indian or Thai?”

At the mere thought of fresh naan, Azriel’s stomach growled, “Indian sounds great.”

The dining table was still overrun with boxes, so they spread dinner out on the sofa table, promising they’d get to it tomorrow. It was unnervingly real—looking Elain’s messy hair and feeling the ache in his back and arms while they sat cross-legged on the couch, inhaling takeout too fast to talk. Here, inside the liminal space of a half-decorated room and low lamplight, Azriel really could just be somebody’s husband, procrastinating on unpacking.

But then he remembered that the boxes weren’t brimming with tchotchkes, and that getting the equipment inside ready, online, then securely stored could take all day. Whatever couldn’t be mistaken for a personal tablet or basic office equipage would have to be hidden away in filing cabinets or the closet. And that was just the beginning of tasks they had to accomplish to make sure the house was as unremarkable as possible.

Elain dunked a piece of roti in her aloo matar, “We need to meet the rest of our neighbors. Figure out who’s involved.”

“Or if they know anything,” Azriel added. “Even if they’re not working with Galkin.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “At the very least, Lynn seems invested in the neighborhood. I wouldn’t be surprised if she knew something.”

Luckily she was also endlessly chatty; getting her to divulge something wouldn’t be a challenge. Anything was better than what they had now. In the grand scheme of things, Ivan Galkin’s connection to Sokolov wasn’t a very significant lead, and one they probably only had because of the risk that came with doing business with someone new. They didn’t know the nature of the collaboration or what either man wanted from the other. They didn’t know what Galkin had to offer that made Sokolov decide it was worth the risk.

With the headache ebbing and his hunger sated, Azriel was painfully aware of his exhaustion. The kind that made his eyelids feel sticky with each blink, the normally thoughtless action becoming deeply unpleasant. It would be easy to blame it on the long day of driving and hauling and arranging, but in all honesty, Azriel had spent the previous night restlessly pacing around his apartment. Half preparing and half wrangling with his anxiety about the mission—about having Elain as his partner. Azriel could count on one hand the missions for which he’d had a partner. It wasn’t just his line of work that made him wary of trusting another person. He’d been a solitary creature his whole life. Hadn’t shared a space since his time in Special Ops, before Rhysand had plucked him out of the military ranks a decade ago.

Despite the anxiety urging him to do so, there was no reason for Azriel to push his body any further tonight. Their equipment wasn’t going anywhere, and even if it was set up, they hadn’t even determined an initial target.

He started tossing decorative pillows from the couch to the floor, but stopped when he felt Elain watching him. He turned to face her where she lingered on the stairs, brows wrinkled curiously.

“Don’t want to scratch a cornea on the beaded ones,” he explained. The one in his hands now looked promising—larger than the average throw pillow, covered in a soft suede.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” she said plainly. Azriel blinked at her, wondering if maybe she was messing with him like she had in the car, calling him baby and asking if he was into roleplay.

“We have a lot to worry about already,” she continued. Perfectly serious. “We can’t waste any of our energy on making sure the couch never looks like a bed, just in case people drop by and see it.”

Azriel could argue that people fought or fell asleep watching Sports Center all the time. But Elain was the expert and his spine knew he wasn’t twenty-two anymore, so he helped her fix the pillows and followed her upstairs.

The owner’s suite, situated at the end of the hallway, was decorated in the same earthy palette as the living room. Mostly neutral with rich woods, offset with more vibrant rugs and pillows of terracotta and evergreen. This was the room closest to being completely unpacked, except for the mound of boxes in the walk-in. The amount of clothes was concerning, more than Azriel had in his own closet. How long did the brass think this was going to take? There were half a dozen boxes just for him—suits and ties, jeans, athleticwear, a coat for every season, and finally, pajamas. He pulled the matching set out of the box, eying the baby blue and white striped fabric with disdain. After another moment of deliberation, he changed into only the pants.

Azriel finished getting ready for bed long before Elain, giving him time to situate himself on the side of the bed closest to the window, as close to the edge as he could manage without looking insane. He sat against the headboard, ankles crossed, staring at the communications device in his lap. So far, he’d only typed one sentence of his report, making a note about their visitors, and the small insight into the dynamic between Galkin and his wife.

What more was there to say? The neighbors smile too much and we can’t decide if we should get a French press or regular coffee maker tomorrow.

The thought of Amren reading an update like that almost had Azriel smiling to himself. He tried to recall any other details about the Forth’s visit, but the most pervasive memory was that of Elain’s hand on his knee, her thumb idly smoothing over the material of his pants, the touch warm and grounding. Azriel couldn’t quite remember the last time somebody had reached for him so casually and he had actually let them—much less been even marginally comforted by the gesture.

It shouldn’t matter. Not flinching away from her affections had served the mission. There was no use in thinking about why it was different, or what it might be like next time. Azriel had encountered plenty of beautiful women, even sought them out on occasion, at galas and buildings he didn’t belong in. Dousing suspicion with indulgent smiles and pouring honeyed words in their ears so they might fill his with secrets. It was a tactic he only used in moments of desperation, when subtlety was just as paramount as information itself, and there was no way of accessing someone’s computer or filing cabinets undetected. He needed to find that level of clarity now—let his body go through the motions and his mind focus on the mission.

He was sending his report when Elain stepped out of the bathroom.

Like him, she was dressed in pale blue. He wasn’t sure if the matching was intentional, because the color was where the similarities ended. Instead of pinstripes, Elain wore a silky nightgown trimmed with delicate white lace. Her thick hair had been loosely swirled into a bun on the top of her head, drawing even more attention to her exposed shoulders and the graceful lines of her collarbones. If Azriel had been able to draw air into his lungs, he might have laughed out loud.

One of her hands came up to fiddle with a thin strap, but it was as if she’d snapped her fingers in front of his face. The small, anxious movement dragging Azriel back to himself. Fuck, how long had he been looking?

He watched the ceiling fan spin while Elain darted across the room and into bed, only turning his head when he heard the rustle of the covers as she pulled them over her legs. The warmth in her cheeks had spread, splotching her throat and chest, in stark contrast with the cool blue fabric it disappeared into. Azriel’s eyes found the fan again, every muscle in his body as taut as the silence between them. Until Elain finally said, “Do you think we have time to stop at Target tomorrow?”

Azriel wondered if despite the mountain of clothing stacked in the closet, this was all Elain could find for pajamas. Summer still clung to the air, damp and stifling, but it wouldn’t be long before the wind chased away the humidity and started to bite. Surely whoever was responsible for selecting Elain’s wardrobe should have thought of that. Or at least of him, right now.  

“Sure,” he agreed, praying with everything he had that Elain would dismiss the strain in his voice as exhaustion. “Whatever you need.”

[justsomeoneunordinary]

Tagged by the wonderful @iam93percentstardust, thank you, love ♥️

If any of my followers are into MCU SteveTony, I can only recommend checking Alle's fics out. She's a fantastic writer!

Rrules: list the first line(s) of your last 10 (or however many you have) posted fics and see if there’s a pattern!

I had to skip some fics whose first lines were prompts, which don't count as my own first lines.

1. Zombies and Other Everyday Occurrences: Butsuma barely manages a step onto the engawa before he pauses in his movements and stares.

2. Brothers (And Lack Thereof): “Tobirama!”

3. Lover’s Quarrel (And Why Tobirama Deserves a Vacation): Nezuko’s loud cry wakes him up even before Mito needlessly kicks him in the shins with her ice-cold feet.

4. Vivid Dream: “Hinata!”

5. A Viper’s Venom: The tantou pierces Madara’s flesh just moments after Butsuma climaxes with a satisfied grunt inside Madara.

6. Crossing All the Lines: Sakura turns the bottle of sake she’s holding in her hand back and forth, wondering what Tsunade-shishou would think if she knew what Sakura’s contemplating to do.

7. Sometimes, Some Days: For a woman who has traveled through time, come straight from years of war and witnessed blood, death, destruction and slaughter daily, only to get transported into an era long before her time, long before her family and her friends would be born, Ino is adjusting pretty well.

8. Written in the Water, Live However: Every fiber of Rin’s body feels like it’s on fire as she opens her eyes, yet the first thing she notices is the Sanbi’s giddiness inside her, in contrast to the fury he has infested her with over the years.

9. Written in the Water, Die Regardless: Rin’s blood feels like it’s boiling, and all she sees is red, red, red like blood and fire and fury, and every step she takes burns, but she doesn’t stop running and she doesn’t look back.

10. Desperate Times, Desperate Measures: Tobirama had been staring at the chat bubble for what felt like hours now.

Pattern: Humor fics tend to have very short lines, sometimes dialogue, other times a direct action. The non-humor fics have a bit longer prose, but either way, I tend to go directly into the action of the story and not dwell on descriptions.

Tagging: @names-are-fucking-hard @domoz @madbuns and everyone else who sees this and wishes to do it!