#maybe I’ll take a break from deity au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cno-inbminor · 3 years

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iterum vivere (childe/tartaglia)

a/n: wow, it’s been fucking forever. first genshin fic featuring childe/tartaglia!!! a very huge thank you to @suspensin for reading this over and being my rock and support, and i love her so fucking much. I couldn’t have finished this without her!

plot: reincarnation and modern/uni!au ft. afab reader!traveler with she/they pronouns x childe/tartaglia

-- in which meeting childe is a bit of a dangerous game of push and pull

wc: 12.1k; angst + fluff

warnings: DOES CONTAIN IN-GAME SPOILERS (1.5? 1.6? + story quest and idek) and NSFW MENTIONS (mdni to be safe). there’s no explicit smut but thoughts do run a bit wild here and there

EDIT: Altered ChiLumi version now posted on AO3 here!

“Haven’t we met before?”

The shine in your eyes does nothing to hide your curiosity, head even tilting a little in observation. He watches them scan his face for any recognizable features, but attempts to focus on the strange, taut string of déjà vu that pulls him toward you. In a moment of absentmindedness, he had heard a faint voice call out his name from your direction. Confusion overtook him as you weren’t looking at him, but something inside his brain said that it had to be from you. And so his feet redirected his path towards your figure in the student union building, as if on a mission.

“A fucking whale, Childe?”

Oh.

“I don’t think so…?” You trail off, curiosity now replaced by perplexed feelings. “Do we have a class together?”

I think I would’ve noticed you by now if you were.

“Ah, what’s your major?” Childe asks quickly to avoid listening to the little voice in his head.

“History and anthropology, you?”

“Economics, but I’ve taken a history course for core credits. Maybe it was then?”

“With Dr. Zhong?”

“Yes!” He snaps his fingers. Part of his brain decides to usefully function and scan his memories to see if he remembers your face or head of hair in the lecture hall then. “Last year? Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10 to 11:20?”

“Actually, yeah,” you affirm in surprise. You think you would remember the relatively attractive ginger in your class, but honestly, it had all been such a blur and you were often pretty sleepy during class. Dr. Zhong didn’t quite appreciate it, but you made up for it with your exam and essay grades, as well as paying better attention in some of his other courses.

“Did you need me for anything?”

“I’d like for you to come visit and meet my family.”

He’s really not appreciating this extra voice speaking for him.

“Well…uh…” Childe stammers and looks away sheepishly, hand rubbing the back of his neck. He honestly had no reason for approaching you, and now, he just looks like a desperate idiot. Think quick, he tells himself, floundering for some shitty excuse.

“I wanted to, uh, take another history course as an elective and um, wanted to know if you had any recommendations?”

“Oh,” you blink. That’s a first. When he meets your gaze, the swirling shades of sapphire strike something deep within you. Flashes of events you can’t make out go by in the blink of an eye, but then you realize you’ve been staring for too long. Blood rushes to your cheeks because you don’t exactly want this guy to get the wrong idea from you, because how are you supposed to explain, “I’m sorry, but I think we have met before, but just a really, really long time ago, and we might’ve been more than just acquaintances because that’s what it feels like?”

“I think you’d like Teyvat Mythology,” your voice wavers on the verge of cracking. “Dr. Zhong might have a TA this time around, but Xiao’s a great teacher. Doesn’t have long, rambling anecdotes, but explains things well and gets straight to the point.”

“C-cool, I’ll look into it,” Childe replies and smiles brightly. “I’ll head out then,” jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, where he just realized he left a grouchy Scaramouche waiting by a vending machine, newly purchased Starbucks Tripleshot drink in hand. “Nice seeing you, (y/n).”

He scurries off before you both realize that you never told him your name.

“Who’s that?” Scaramouche asks, jutting his chin in your vague direction.

“Someone from my Intro to Liyuean History course last year,” Childe waves off. “Come on, let’s go before the line at the pasta bar gets too long.”

The next time you see Childe is by accident, traversing across an open field of grass that many students like to sit out on to relax with friends, sunbathe, hold events, or play casual team sports if room permits.

You had your earbuds in and were scrolling through social media when laughter rang above all other sound, causing your head to snap up and swivel around to find the source. And while it might’ve been strange to an outsider, your steps immediately slowed as you watched the man of your tiring, vivid dreams sprint in your direction, eyes pinned on a frisbee heading towards him.

He’s wearing a grey sports tank and basketball shorts, headband holding back his bangs as he makes a slight jump in the air to catch the plastic disc between his palms. His feet plant into the grass as he looks for someone to pass it to, and you watch (with embarrassment) the muscles in his throwing arm relax and tighten with practice, frisbee steadily soaring through the air in a beautiful arc towards a teammate. He then lightly jogs to get closer to his group, but then his back stiffens.

Before your instincts kick in for you to turn and bail, he looks over his shoulder and stares straight at your now stunned self.

The sole ruby earring that glints in the sunlight catches your attention, and you recall your dreams of terrifyingly dark, violet electric power, blades of water rushing toward you, and then the stomach-churning sensation of falling from great heights pours concrete into your veins—

Childe looks a little amused for having your sole focus, hand lifting up for a quick wave. And as you numbly return the greeting, your heart beats out, “Run from him.”

And so with the flight response pulsing and firing from your synapses, you abruptly speed walk away, almost breaking out into a sprint towards your dorm. You ignore his pointed, confused look, and pretend you don’t feel the two holes of imaginary fire searing into your back. It isn’t until you’re laying back in bed that you release a huge sigh of relief and pray to a deity you don’t believe in that those eyes of mirth will not haunt you tonight.

But of course, with a deity that doesn’t exist, the prayers go unanswered.

“Do you believe in any of the mythology you teach?” You ask Xiao about a few days later when you stop by his cubicle. Luckily, no one else is around for this conversation, and Xiao has always been kind enough to humor your thoughts. Granted, he might feel obligated because you had asked Dr. Zhong to be your advisor for your undergraduate Honors thesis, and Xiao was directed to be your receiver of some general questions and source of information if he wasn’t around.

A quick scan of your complexion tells Xiao everything he needs to know. Your eyes are overtaken with rumination and exhaustion, haziness clouding them as you seem to ponder over your own question. It’s not often that you ask him anything not related to your thesis or coursework.

“Perhaps there’s some sense and truth to the tales passed down,” he softly muses. “What makes you ask?”

You lift yourself to sit on the clean area next to his computer, legs slowly swaying back and forth. “It might sound crazy but...I’ve been having dreams lately. They feel too real, too natural to be anything that my mind would make up. I’ve never had the most creative imagination by any means, which is why there’s some comfort to me being a history major, but I can’t shake these.”

“So why ask me about the mythology?”

“...the Archons are there. I even dreamt that I met the Geo and Anemo Archons. And they controlled various elements, just like we were taught.”

You don’t notice that Xiao has ceased his rapid typing, fingers hovering over the keyboard before one hand removes his glasses from his face. He uses the other to rub his eyes and softly pinch the bridge of his nose before sliding the frames back on. Dark, golden amber eyes survey you as you grapple with the unfathomable possibilities of your nightly visions, at least until you shake your head in disbelief at yourself and lightly scoff.

“Who am I kidding?” You ask no one in particular. “Maybe I’ve been doing too much research and everything’s mixing together.”

“You’re ahead of schedule, if that provides any consolation.”

“Some.”

It takes Childe a grand total of one minutes and 53 seconds to sign up for Teyvat Mythology for the spring semester.

WInter in Liyue is only slightly miserable, being so close to the ocean. It’s chillier than usual on this dreary day, yet something compelled you to exit your dorm and shakily make your way to the campus coffee shop for a warm drink. Coffee, hot chocolate, you haven’t quite decided yet, but just as you let yourself bask in the warm building, familiar ginger hair and blue eyes wash away the comfort.

Or do they douse you in security?

They remind you of your recent dreams that now have shifted away from stress and violence to easygoing summer days by the oceanside, running barefoot in the sand while collecting beautifully patterned azure starconches. Sometimes, you thrust a hand towards an oversized four-leaf clover on a wooden stake with the power of wind and catch yourself in the air, soaring and looking around to find more of the little shells. Other nights, they consist of climbing steep cliffs, only to sit at the edge in the clouds with fatigue wracking through your system and marvel at the view before you.

Someone’s always with you though, ruby earring and maroon mask and cobalt blue gem hanging from the waist, sprinting with you, playfully tackling you down, pulling you up towards mountain peaks, laying their head on your shoulders, brushing their lips against your cheek--

You welcome the change of peace in those dreams, but only because they don’t leave you quite as tired the next day, as if you’d been avoiding an inescapable dark force.

Part of you wants the burning question of why this person, this man, in all his glory and brightness, affects you so fucking much when you barely even know the guy -- why looking at him sends your heart to lodge itself in your esophagus, why your lungs feel like they’re so close to being completely collapsed under the weight of his stare, why feeling like you’re trapped and caught between wanting to run towards yet away from him. It makes no sense, and you’re tired of trying to make sense of anything you don’t exactly want to remember from your dreams for some, once again, inexplicable reason.

But there’s no time to think as he quickly ambles towards you, your own feet shuffling forward to meet him in a warped reference of a distance that constitutes to “the middle” before you can stop yourself. Your shivering hasn’t quite stopped yet, and Childe seems to take notice of it.

“Pretty cold out there,” he softly states. It’s cute, the way you’re curling in on yourself to retain some warmth.

“Y-yeah, not sure why I decided I really needed something warm to drink right now,” you reply and avoid his gaze. He watches you peer over his shoulder to squint at the menu display hanging from the ceiling, seemingly contemplating on what you should get.

“How about I get yours today? My treat for your class recommendation last time.” Anything to keep you here longer. Childe doesn’t realize how much he’s missed you, which confuses him, and chooses to ignore the fact that he’d been camping himself at the study tables in the building where the history department is located in hopes of even just catching a quick glimpse of you.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you immediately attempt to subvert his generous offer, hands shooting out from your jacket pockets and waving in rejection. “It was nothing.”

“Please?” Childe puts on his best puppy eyes before reaching for one of your wrists, gently tugging you to the register. “Just this once?”

You want so badly to squash the tiny flare of disappointment that erupts in your chest from the newly acquired knowledge that this was just a one time thing. Do econ majors hate to feel in debt? That they must be even with everyone, or would rather have people indebted to them than the other way around?

There’s no time to think when Childe gives the cashier his order before turning to you, and without wanting to waste anyone’s time, you rattle off your usual beverage. He’s quick in fishing out his student ID to spend some of his campus currency, shooting you a boyish grin when you pout at your half-opened wallet.

“Go take that table over there,” he says, pointing to one in the corner by some windows. “I’m gonna tell my friends to go on without me.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude or pull you away from them,” you slightly panic. The sooner you can leave, the better. Right? “You don’t need to sit with me, I was just gonna head back to my dorm.”

“I insist. Go ahead, I’ll be right there.”

Why your brain takes his orders over your own is a mystery in and of itself, because before you know it, you’re plopped down in one of the lounge seats and staring off into space, mind reeling over the last two minutes. You pretend you can’t hear the way Childe’s friends nudge his arm playfully with their shoulders, wiggling their eyebrows suggestively as Childe tries to get them to stop being nonsensical.

“You’re gonna scare them off,” he hisses at them, hands pushing at their backs so they could finally leave him to his devices.

“Not before you do!” One of them laughs and Childe groans at their antics. “All right, all right, we’ll go. They’re cute though, might steal them if you don’t make a move.”

The darkening of the aura surrounding Childe is too quick for them to fully process, not before he dampens any of their fleeting hopes with a, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

But it disappears just as fast when his and your drinks are called out, and he gives them one last shove before retrieving your to-go cups. Childe directs all his focus towards the seat diagonally from yours as opposed to the one that’s straight across, and you’re sharply ripped away from whatever reverie you let yourself slip into.

“Thank you,” you murmur, hands cupping the drink and feeling the heat seep into your fingertips. “You really didn’t have to, it was nothing big.”

“Can you blame me for just trying to find an excuse to finally talk to you?” He asks without a skip and you can’t tell if the quickening of your heartbeat is from a looming sense of doom or excitement. Those eyes, the tiny swirls of the ocean, blue like those shells buried in the sand--

It takes three seconds too long for you to understand where he was going with in his words, and part of you feels unamused at his smooth talking. You’ve always guarded yourself against guys like Childe, devilishly handsome who know their way around language semantics, ready to pull you in and just as ready to push you away. That (possibly unfair) bias, coupled with everything else you’ve been feeling for him, sounded the alarms and set the walls up around your heart. Perhaps you need to stop wearing your heart on your sleeve, because Childe immediately retracts his forwardness.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I promise I’m not looking for anything in return and you don’t owe me anything, but I really did just...want to sit and talk and...get to know you?” Childe trails off a little towards the end. Your body loosens up and relaxes just a tiny bit, feeling bad for your snap judgment. Let the guy do something nice, don’t look into it too much, you tell yourself. It’s a coffee, not a five-course dinner.

You reach out a hand towards him, small smile across your lips, ready for his to join yours in a quick handshake. “I’m (y/n), senior history and anthropology double major. It’s nice to meet you.”

The pounding of your heart against your ribcage has nothing to do with the shimmering of his eyes, nothing to do with the fact that his hand fits with yours just right, and nothing to do with the fact that an eerily similar voice from your dreams whispers, “I love you.”

You learn a number of things about Tartaglia in the four hours, like his family members and their respective interests, which classes he did and didn’t enjoy taking, certain takes on Schnezhnayan politics, his own various hobbies, crazy accidents from the occasional college parties, and more. He’s a bit of an open book, probably telling you way more than any regular person would, and definitely more than anything you revealed during all this time. Everything you tell him seems surface level, nothing too deep. The walls are still there to protect you from the unexplainable, profound feelings his presence seems to elicit, and luckily, he doesn’t prod any further. Childe feels the resistance and respects it, which just adds more brownie points in your book, and you almost feel bad for having given so little in return.

“I wish we were taking Teyvat Myth together,” he sighs when walking you back to your dorm, hands stuffed in his pockets. His ruby earring catches the light from the sunset, the shade almost complimentary to the golden amber rays that streak across the sky. “Would’ve helped having a history major in there.”

“Is that all I am to you, an answer bank?” You jokingly ask, but he watches concerningly as you shoot your gaze to the ground, mindfully stepping over the cracks between concrete slabs.

“Of course not,” a gentle sincerity reaches you, giving you the confidence to make eye contact with him. “I’m sorry for making it sound like that, it wasn’t my intention. I really just meant it as a way of saying if the professor or TA ended up being a total bore, then well, having you would make it more fun.”

“I’m sure I’d bore you even more,” chuckling, speeding up to get away. You’re growing too comfortable in whatever atmosphere Childe has created, like an enclosed air bubble bobbing gently in the depths of the sea and letting the waves carry you both to whichever ends of the earth.

“Hey,” he interjects, hand reaching out to stop you with a soft yank of your wrist. There is no resisting force from you, feet stepping backward until he meets you eye to eye. It’s unfair in the way that he can render you motionless by standing just an inch from you, arms brushing with his head tilted closer to your own. “Seriously, I’m glad we did this today. Are you?”

No, because now I don’t know what to think, I don’t know who you are, I’m not any closer to figuring out why you terrify yet leave me so enamoured with you, I’m torn between punching and kissing you and--

“Yes,” you subconsciously answer, brain immediately short-circuiting to scold yourself. “I had fun.”

His grin, charming, devilish, is so so bright, bright enough to rival the Liyue sun that sits on the pier, on the edge of the ocean, bright enough to rival the love that your fraternal twin showers you with on a daily basis. You want time to stop right here because you’re almost sick of the voice settled deep within your heart that screams, “Don’t get comfortable, you must run from him!”

“Good. Let’s do this again?” And you nod, of course you do. Foolish you. “Don’t be a stranger!” He calls out as he turns on his heel and waves over his shoulder, hand raised in the air, and you’re suddenly transported to another scene, a less refined version of the Liyue Harbor, watching as the head of ginger hair with a red mask in a flashier attire of grey and maroon walks away from you and onto a roaring, magnificent ship; big, ivory sails only seen in books and museums. It’s the same gesture of “see you later”, and just before he turns, you blink, and you’re back to seeing your campus again.

But Childe does look back once, warm and content that you’re still standing there, watching over him, and he can’t help but think about when he can spend time with you again, because suddenly, it truly feels like there’s not enough of it anymore.

“Excuse me, what’s a Red Bull?”

The last thing, or person rather, you expect to see on the last day of finals for the fall semester, is a small boy who looks way too young to be here, tugging on the sleeve of your windbreaker. He’s at most eleven, ten maybe, but he has eerily similar characteristics, as well as an accent that doesn’t quite belong to most Liyue natives. Still gathering your bearings from your own perusing of the fridges that hold all the possible beverages a college student could consume, you kneel down until you’re at eye level with the child.

“Repeat that for me? Are you looking for a Red Bull, you say?”

“Yes!” He beams and holds out a student ID that most definitely doesn’t belong to him. “My brother asked me to grab him one because he was busy with something.”

Your eyes flit over to the top shelves where the aforementioned cans of caffeine are located, and definitely too high for someone of his height to reach. “I’ll grab one for you. Did he ask for a specific flavor?”

“Nope, he said regular. Thanks, you’re really nice! Do you know my brother?” He asks, waving the ID at you so you can get a better look at the name. That’s definitely a face you recognize, but the name leaves you confused.

“Yeah, um,” glance over again, “I know...Ajax…”

“He’s the best toy seller in the whole world!”

Somehow, it suits him much better than Childe or Tartaglia, and you’re not quite sure what toys have anything to do with the matter at hand. Speaking of hands, the little boy grabs yours in sheer delight. “Can you take me back to his room? I kinda forgot the directions he told me, and everything’s so big around here.”

“Sure, just let me buy something, too, and I’ll take you.”

“Okay!”

The cashier isn’t the least bit fazed by the little brunette at your side -- it’s always common for family members to come in around the end of semesters to pick up kids or visit, and being an open building with snacks and drinks and a stopping point of most tours, they’ve seen it all. You even let him pick out a bag of chips and a candy bar for himself for being so polite and not a complete menace, paying with your own campus currency.

Teucer, as you’ve learned in the last two minutes, likes to point out things and ask you questions. Luckily, you have answers to most of them and do your best to pad the time, enjoying the feeling of a tiny hand wrapped around three of your fingers. It’s sweet to any normal passerby, believing they’re witnessing an older sister doting on their little brother around the holidays, but to Childe, seeing the tender sweetness on your face as you nod along to whatever Teucer is rambling about to you, sets his heart aflame. He’s already constantly on the verge of wanting to hug and kiss you and never let go, but you haven’t made any indication that you could potentially like him back, and this is just torture.

“Look what they bought me!” Teucer shoves his rewards in Childe’s face as if he had extremely poor eyesight, and you can’t help but laugh a little as you set his Red Bull down on his desk, clutching your own preferred beverage while looking around his room. Finals must have gotten to him with the unusual lack of tidiness in the small space, some laundry strewn here and there, a couple boxes of eaten microwave dinners in the metal wire trash can, some textbooks left open and marked with more sticky notes than you’ve ever seen. You’d only been here once before to drop off some food that he desperately messaged you about, stuck doing a project that he just couldn’t step away from.

“Pretend you don’t see the mess,” Childe pleads, handing a kid tablet to his brother but holding on before Teucer can take it. “What do you say to our nice friend here for buying you these snacks?”

“Thank you!”

“It was nothing,” you shyly smile, ruffling his hair. “I enjoyed meeting you.”

“Wait, what’s your name again?”

“It’s (Y/n).”

“Okay, (y/n)! Wait…(y/n)..as in…”

Teucer trails off and gives a look to his brother, one that spells curiosity and trouble, before he grabs your hand and pulls you into a corner. Any movement Childe makes to leave his desk chair is immediately squashed by Teucer’s disapproval, and the older man is left to helplessly worry when you’re told to squat down so secrets can be whispered into your ear.

“He talks about you a lot whenever he calls home,” and you want to laugh at Tecuer’s attempt to sound as scandalous as possible. “All the time! I think he likes you, like, like like.”

Oh. Oh dear.

“What makes you say that?” You whisper back, indulging both yourself and him, yet also internally snickering at how troubled Childe looks.

“Sometimes, he video calls mama, but we’ll all sit around and talk, and whenever he’s talking about how he saw you or something, he just looks...happy. Really happy.”

The surprise on your face does nothing to settle Childe’s nerves and he’s about to start wringing his hands together. Whatever Teucer was telling you couldn’t be good, probably embarrassing, like the one time he unceremoniously fell on his ass while ice skating over a frozen lake, or when he tried fitting fifteen marshmallows in his mouth and nearly choked on them when their mother caught them in the act, or--

“I think he just thinks of me as a good friend,” you try to inform Teucer, not letting yourself get any semblance of hope. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“If you say so,” Teucer pouts. But then he stops whispering and bounds over back to his brother, grabbing the tablet before plopping down on the half-made bed.

“Look, I was overconfident and thought I could execute a perfect single loop on the ice, but there was a rock and I lost balance and--”

“I wasn’t being told any stories about you falling on ice, but do tell me more,” you chuckle and take some joy in watching the blush spread across his cheeks. It’s easy to tell that he’s mentally berating himself for jumping to conclusions.

“Well, first off, thanks for buying him all that, and my drink, too,” he sighs. “I spoil him enough as it is.”

“I can see why it’s hard not to,” you smile knowingly. “So is it just him here? Where’s the rest of your family?”

“Funny story, he somehow managed to convince my parents to let him come here on his own as his first ever plane flight, so I had to pick him up yesterday from the airport. He’s flying back with me tomorrow.”

“And the RA?” You ask with an eyebrow raised.

“Ah...well...what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him? Speaking of, what was Teucer whispering to you about?”

There’s a pensiveness that overtakes you when you look at Teucer again, who’s happily playing some sort of game and completely oblivious to the rest of his surroundings. You won’t, can’t, take his words to heart, and will take them with a grain of salt at most.

“Nothing important. Although I did learn something new...Ajax?”

“Say my name -- fuck, say it, please--”

“I guess cat’s out of the bag,” he chuckles and looks away, absolutely unaware of the flare of heat that swirls in your stomach from the fleeting vision just now. “I came up with other nicknames as a kid to seem cooler, and they just stuck with me. Plus, the business world is full of people who just want something from you, or just a transactional relationship. I’d rather not give my real name to them, if you know what I mean.”

“That’s fair,” you nod and lean to sit on the edge of his desk. A thought pops into your head and you turn the words over in your head like a washing machine on the spin setting, teeth gnawing on the flesh of your bottom lip. If Teucer hadn’t been in the room, he would’ve been this close to kissing you.

“But if it’s worth anything,” your voice slowly, softly starts, cautious and wary of your thoughts. “I think...Ajax suits you best.”

Curse fate. Curse the legendary Archons. Curse karma and deities and spirits because all he wants to do right now is stand and tower over you, trap you between himself and his desk so you can’t escape, take those pretty lips between his until they’re bruised and swollen because of him, hear you call out his name in the throes of pleasure so he can finally replace his fantasies with tangible memories. The unnatural, magnetic pull that draws him to you is unbearable now -- he feels like he’ll lose the last tendrils of his sanity if he doesn’t do something.

You can’t stop him from slowly reaching out to grab one of your hands, lifting it towards him until he’s close enough for you to feel his breath ghost over your knuckles. It sends a shiver down your spine and blood is pounding in your ears because you can’t begin to fathom what he’s thinking about while doing this, even more so when his lips make contact with your skin and your breath hitches, stuck in your throat as he languidly peeks at you beneath his eyelashes with a heated gaze, then lowly confessing, “My name sounds best when you say it.”

Good heavens.

It’s difficult to swallow and keep your composure, especially when Teucer yells out in glee over, what you can assume, beating something in his game, and Childe drops your hand. But his dilated pupils don’t retract in the slightest, refusing to let you look away so that maybe, you can understand what he’s trying to convey to you. He’s taking the first step because he’s terrible and can’t contain his self-control anymore, pushing the ball into your court, ready for you to either play or exit into the sidelines.

When you do blink, there’s a vision of your naked body wrapped around another, limbs clinging desperately to a sturdy and panting frame. Lips, much like the ones that have seared themselves onto your knuckles, are at your neck and sucking, biting, before moving to your ear and laying filthy words into them that drive you closer to the edge. It all happens so fast that you feel you’ve just experienced whiplash, yet also feeling secondhand embarrassment at how lewd some of these thoughts have been.

You can’t stay here any longer.

“I-I have to go,” spills off your tongue before you can really think about it. The way the haze shatters in his eyes is heartbreaking in its own way, but there’s no time for you to explain. Your brain is in overdrive and eager to run, run, run. It detects danger on all fronts, but you muster out a, “H-have a good break, come find me next semester, mmk?”

And you’re out the door with inhuman speed. When the door clicks shut, only then does Teucer look up from his screen and frown at the lack of your presence. “Where’d they go?”

Chlide doesn’t seem to hear him, and Teucer has never seen his big brother look so sad and confused before.

He holds on to that last tendril of hope, because mark his words, he will find you come January.

After about a week at home, enjoying the festive time with his family and mildly unconcerned about next year’s courses because that was a problem for another day, Childe has his first, crazy, nonsensical dream.

At least, that’s what he tells himself when he snaps awake and his body aches with exhaustion. Not only are his joints in agony, he also feels like he’s sporting unforeseen bruises, which makes absolutely no sense because he hasn’t done anything that would warrant them, no matter how much he and his brothers do some rough-housing. His night of sleep was all consumed by flashes and scenes of weapon fighting, lucid enough to remember feeling his arms flex and wield bows and double-headed polearms and being cognizant of all the enemies??? surrounding him. They ranged from deranged looking monsters, floating beings with soulless masks, and large humans in electricity-padded armor, to behemoth machines in the sky that could leave you within an inch of your life thanks to a drill for a hand?!

But what’s even worse is that you seem to have managed a deal with Morpheus himself and infiltrated his dreams. You were there, too, sometimes fighting with him, sometimes against him, much to his dismay, and while it was nice, he just didn’t get it. Why the friendliness and hostility? Why was there an anger that overtook him when looking directly at you, parrying your blade and sending harmful arcs of water toward your figure?

Why did he relish the fear in your eyes when he darted towards you with electricity cracking through the air?

There’s an overwhelming sensation now to grab his phone to text you and apologize -- for what, he can’t fathom and there are no words to accurately convey what he’s thinking. “Hey, sorry for wanting to kill you in my dream :( “? Or “Sorry for being a friend but then stabbing you in the back, but then being nice to you again”?

And the only thing that really made sense was the serenity and contentment that would course through his veins as the two of you danced around on ivory sandy beaches, picking up shiny blue starconches and taking down more weird creatures; the breathlessness when you would fall back into the water and re-emerge to reconfirm his beliefs that you were one of the most beautiful humans he’d ever laid his eyes on; the love--

Hold the fuck up.

He doesn’t love you. He likes you a whole lot and he’s severely and deathly attracted to you, but he doesn’t love you. Your existence has only been made known to him for about two months, and he didn’t really start talking to you until three weeks in. So no matter how comfortable he feels with you, no matter how much he wishes that you were sleeping peacefully next to him so his nights wouldn’t feel so lonely, it was too early, too hasty, to say that he loves you.

“I’ve been wondering, why didn’t you bring them home?” His mother asks him out of nowhere during breakfast, all to add to this extremely tumultuous roller-coaster morning he’s been having. All he wants to do is eat his bowl of milk and cereal, then potentially go back to sleep before fulfilling his promise to go with his siblings to the nearby skating rink. It takes everything in him to not choke on his spoon of grains.

“Agreed, didn’t you mention they didn’t really have any family to go back to and that the move to Liyue was semi-permanent?” His father chimes in, laying a quick peck on his wife’s temple. “It’s never fun to spend the holidays alone.”

“They would’ve felt like they were intruding,” Childe replies quietly, stabbing his bowl a few times before scooping up another spoonful of cereal to his mouth. “I know we’re friends, but we haven’t known each other for that long, and maybe they’d be uncomfortable because that’s a lot honestly…”

“You don’t know until you try,” his mother sings and pats him on the shoulder. “We do have a guest room after all.”

“For them and their twin?”

“And quite a comfortable futon with enough blankets.”

Childe smiles fondly at his parents’ kindness. He can only imagine what this winter break would’ve been like now -- you and your twin floating around, trying to help out with certain chores, sitting by the fireplace and watching TV, huddled up with mugs of hot chocolate, playing board games with everyone and engaging in all the shenanigans…

Laughing. Loving. Grinning. Basking.

Handing over one of his hoodies to you as a sick way of torturing yet blessing himself for seeing how lovely you look in his clothes, standing silently in the doorway as you attempt to help out with mealtimes next to his mother, watching you run around in the backyard and dodging his siblings’ snowballs while lodging a few of your own -- how wonderful it all would be.

But he squashes it down as quickly as possible, because you escaped his grasp. You ran away from his advances temporarily and even though you gave him permission to seek you out come the spring semester, he worries that you might take it back. Something will wake up inside of you to keep him out of your heart and your life, and he’s not confident enough at this point to believe there’s a good chance you will come spend the holidays with him and his family next year.

“Maybe next year, ma,” he sends her a hesitant, yet somewhat broken purse of his lips that’s just the least bit curved. It tells her everything he’s thinking, and the quick patting of his cheek lets him know she understands.

Half an hour later, Childe finds himself curled up on his side under the sheets, phone in hand as he stares at a blinking cursor. It shouldn’t be so hard to send a text to convey his holiday greetings, because that’s all it is -- part of him is becoming desperate and aching for some interaction with you, even if it’s just a text sent back for conventional social pleasantries. He’ll take it for now, right?

Before he can totally chicken out, his thumbs quickly type a, “Happy Holidays, (y/n) :)”, and it’s a little embarrassing how quickly after he hits the ‘send’ button that he tosses it over his shoulder so he’s not directly looking at it anymore. His heartbeat is too quick and he prays for no phantom vibrations or phantom sound notifications to avoid any disappointment of thinking he got a reply. It was a harmless text, yet he’s treating it like he just got assigned on a mission to go and murder someone for the first time. What will he do if you never text him back? Does that mean you really don’t want to talk to him? Are you dead in a ditch somewhere? Did you change numbers and not tell him? Did your twin get all the details and make the executive decision to block his number? Will he never get a chance to talk to you again, even if it’s about something in the Teyvat Mythology class next semester? Will you--

His shoulder screams in protest when he quickly flips himself over at the text notification sound, hands shakily unlocking his phone and opening up your conversation again. His heart rate significantly decreases, reaching back to its normal pace, especially as he reads the little words on his screen.

“Happy Holidays, Ajax ^^”

There is hope.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

You’re huddled under the comforter of your twin’s bed, phone just peeking above the edge as you stare at it with a brightness in your eyes. For the most part, you had been sulking there, apart from meals and going back to your own room to sleep, and mentally berating yourself for the way you reacted to Childe the week before.

“He just texted me to say happy holidays,” shrugging to put on a facade of indifference. It’s stupid that you’re trying to hide your feelings from your twin of all people, who could pick apart and identify your emotions in a heartbeat. A roll of his eyes lets you know that you haven’t fooled him at all.

“So you think that whatever comment he made, which was very suggestive and indicative of clearly non-platonic feelings, was just something...friendly? Remind me again how you came to that conclusion?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking!” You whine, looking around to see if there was anything you could toss at him. “It’s just, with everything, all the dreams and stupid gut feelings, I just -- I don’t know, okay?? I can’t tell you enough how much I wish I had just kissed his stupid face and see where it goes from there.”

“Okay, gross, but don’t beat yourself up. Though...I do have a good idea on how to maybe get a good reaction out of him. You wanna go to the New Years’ celebration at Xiangling’s?”

“I think she’d threaten me with a knife if I didn’t. She wanted to go shopping at some point, too.”

“I’ll drop the overprotective brother act for one night, okay? One night, just to let this happen, and for your peace of mind.”

He does a fair amount of conspiring with Xiangling, a friend they met one time at a restaurant a couple years ago, even tagging along on the shopping trip. Together, the three of you find yourself a dress that Xiangling swears would make any person drool over you, including Childe, because at the end of the day, he was a person with the possibility of being attracted to you.

You think it’s a bit silly, but honestly, what do you have to lose at this point?

At 11:57PM on New Years’ Eve, Childe is standing outside in the freezing cold with his family, arms lifting up bags of sparklers and fireworks. They’ve driven out closer to the wild like they do every year, and everybody excitedly gets lighters ready, making sure someone’s got a clock out there that tells the seconds. As the younger kids open up the packaging and argue over which one to set off first, Childe’s phone vibrates in his coat pocket.

It’s 11:58PM when he manages to fish the device out and thank himself for buying gloves that are touch-screen friendly, excited to see that there are two texts from you, the latter reading, “Happy New Year!”. It doesn’t matter that you’re a little early, but he’s mainly intrigued by the fact a photo came before it. In his mind, you’re probably curled up with your twin brother, hopefully a selfie because wow, he misses your face.

He gets something else instead, and he is so glad that it’s dark outside and the electric lamp they have is too far away from him to draw any attention.

You have your arm around your brother’s waist and another girl’s that he doesn’t recognize, but it’s a full frontal view of your outfit, one that hugs your curves beautifully and shows more cleavage than he’s ever seen from you, sophisticated and elegant, yet fun and leaving enough to the imagination. There’s a bright smile coming from all of you, and you look like you’re at someone’s house or apartment with plenty of other people milling around in the back, but they don’t matter, not when all he can focus on is you.

Gorgeous, breathtaking, arousing, mind blowing, and gods, he wishes he could teleport to Liyue at this moment, find you, and kiss you right at midnight. Fuck the fact that he doesn’t exactly believe in superstitions like, “Kissing your significant other at midnight means you’ll last forever!” but he’s willing to take the chance with it on this night and the ones after, if he’s allowed. He tries not to think too much about pinning you against the wall and letting the world dissolve -- wants to be the one with the privilege to drag down that zipper and feel his bare skin on yours, and --

As Teucer starts yelling there’s only a minute left, he instinctively locks his phone and shoves it away out of anyone’s view. The last thing he needs is his family teasing him about ogling at your photo for a straight 50 seconds, wide-eyed and pupils on the verge of dilating, the visible breath leaving his mouth just a smudge more dense and prominent than usual.

The only thing he can do to distract himself from popping a boner in front of his parents is to join in on the countdown, making sure all the fireworks are set up correctly and grabbing a sparkler for himself. He waves it around with Tonia and promises to fulfill her wishes of taking one of those pictures right as she draws a pattern in the air. Their excitement is palpable and addicting, and even though the larger fireworks set off a few seconds after midnight hits, the nostalgia fills his lungs with fond memories and future wishes that they only continue this tradition for as long as possible, and hopefully, with you at his side.

When it’s 12:04AM, you get a picture message back of Childe bundled up in a black paletot coat, matching beanie and all, a gloved hand holding a sparkler and lips curved upwards, with a caption that says, “Happy New Year’s! See you soon :)”. You show it to Xiangling and your brother, both taking it as a win in their books, although the former does tipsily protest that there should be a better indicator of Childe’s brain breaking at how amazing you look right now. Maybe she’s prophetic, because another text chimes in and the words set you aflame, as well as suggestive whoops into your ears.

It’s a simple, “You look incredible btw”.

If you didn’t want to properly savor this moment, you would’ve found the nearest shot of the strongest liquor and tossed it back with abandon. But you want to remember the warmth in your veins that wasn’t from the alcohol or the heating, the fluttering of your heartbeat, the teeth-baring grin that you couldn’t fight off, the constant re-reading of those four words -- because they’re so different from everything you had been feeling before with him, the need for protection, the need to escape. Instead, you’d like to be in his arms right now and see for yourself how he’d look at you in this moment, and if he would take any action.

You want him to. So, so bad.

Childe spends his last week at home hating the fact that you’re just sitting around somewhere in Liyue, doing whatever you’re doing, probably doing some light preparation for your last semester of classes, and he’s not there to take advantage of all this free time and hang out with you. When classes start, it’ll be busy and hectic. You still have your thesis to finish and revise, and while that won’t eat up all your time, it’s still some that he’d want to fill in with his presence if he could. He debates whether or not he should ask for your schedule and compare it with his, maybe set up meetings every other day or propose that they all eat one meal together every day. Childe’s not quite sure of what you plan to do after graduation, as it hasn’t come up in conversation yet, but either way, he’s determined to stay in contact and make things work out. Long distance isn’t ideal, but with technology now, he’ll take it.

He feels a little bad for how excited he probably looked to be leaving home, uncharacteristic for the most part. His older siblings have already gone back to their respective homes, and it’s mainly Teucer and Tonia that worry and tear up when he starts packing his belongings. Tonia finds it unfair that Teucer got to meet you first and the latter makes sure to rub it into everyone’s faces. It’s hard for Childe to sleep on the plane because he’s thrumming with excitement, yet somehow even more nervous than usual when the plane hits small bouts of turbulence, and he doesn’t seem to relax until he sets foot back on campus.

He’s here. It’s January, and you’re physically closer to him than ever in the last two weeks.

“Found you.”

On the first day of classes, you’re sitting alone with some salad greens in a bowl, poking your fork at some scraps while you watch something on your phone, earbuds in and back towards the entrance of the canteen. It would explain the unannounced entrance of the very person who’s been at the forefront of nearly every thought in the last 96 hours, his fingers gingerly removing an earbud to surprise you as best as possible, and you startle in your seat.

Your heart kicks into overdrive when he hands you back your earbud and pulls out the seat next to you, setting his own plate of food down as he plops down in his chair. But then he says nothing afterwards, instead choosing to send you a cheeky grin before digging in. You’re left to slowly phase out of your state of shock, stuck between either running away or frantically texting your twin to come and save you even though he was off on a date with Keqing.

It’s not that you weren’t elated at the fact that Childe had done exactly as you told him last month, you just weren’t...prepared? It’s a shitty excuse and a cop out -- you’re mainly just having trouble with racking your brain to find the right words. What are you supposed to say? What should you do? Is it socially acceptable to lean over and kiss him on the cheek because that’s what you’d like to impulsively do at this very second??

“So you did,” you settle and steal a roasted potato wedge from his plate. It’s his turn to be taken by surprise, but he gets over it much quicker than you do. In fact, he spears two wedges and drops them in your bowl, smiling at you as best as he can with a mouth full of food. You give them your thanks before the silence settles in again.

“Did you have a good break?” He asks before his next bite.

“I did. You?”

“It was nice. My parents said I should’ve brought you and your twin home to spend the holidays with us. Can’t say it didn’t cross my mind before finals.”

Holy shit, what? “We couldn’t intrude like that, but that’s really nice of you guys.”

“That’s okay, there’s plenty of chances to visit later.”

You tilt your head and furrow your eyebrows. “But we graduate this semester?”

Childe challenges you with one of his own eyebrows raised. “And? Are we never gonna see each other again?”

Honestly, the possibility had occurred to you. You aren’t entirely sure of Childe’s plans after graduation, and if that meant he was staying in Liyue or going back to Snezhnaya or even moving to Inazuma or Mondstat. While people preach on and on about how lasting friendships and relationships are often formed during college, you believe it’s more common to slowly drift apart as life gets busier. And if Childe moved away, or if you did, it’d be hard to consistently keep in touch with 10 hour workdays.

The thought saddens you, regardless. You like him so much and you’re glad that he was even in your life to begin with, because as unbelievable as it sounds, seeing him was almost akin to the feeling of coming home. Amidst all your nerves, your confusion, your spiraling thoughts, something deeply sated in your heart was a comfort that you found with very few people in your life whenever in his presence.

The thought of leaving and never looking back somehow doesn’t feel new -- it’s bittersweet, but the air in your lungs feels like it’s surrendered to something, like it was to be expected.

“You can’t just leave without telling me--”

“It was last minute! I had no choice!”

“You could’ve written up a message, anything--”

“Can you imagine the position you’d be in if the message got intercepted? I wouldn’t have been safe, she’d make you come after me--”

“As if you’d be any safer in Inazuma of all places! That’s the one place I can’t easily get to!”

“I can take care of myself, Childe, I don’t need you to protect me.”

“This isn’t about me protecting you, (y/n) and -- stop walking, will you?!”

“Then what is this about?” You spin on your wheel with eyes aflame. “Why are you so angry with me? It’s normal for me to disappear for weeks at a time, why was this any different?”

“Because you could’ve died!” He yells back in despair, chest heaving. Your silence is his cue to continue. “You could’ve died and I wouldn’t have known until much later. You could’ve died and all I’d ever think about were the things I never got to say to you, and how I wish I had treated every day with you like it was our last.”

It isn’t hard to tell that you’re stunned and at a complete loss for words. Childe often hides behind facades of charm and wit, and only when he is truly weak does he choose to be this vulnerable, baring his heart for you to see.

“I only have two nightmares in this world. One, my family being harmed in any way. Two, reading in a report or hearing from an agent that you’ve been captured and killed.”

“I like to think that we will.”

His hand reaches out to lay on top of yours, giving it a quick squeeze. “Well, let’s make the most of it this semester.”

Conversation afterwards is easy, filling each other in on holiday activities. Childe speaks extensively about several family traditions and you listen with rapt attention, basking in how fond he is of all of them. Even as you both bring your dishes to the return belt and leave, he immediately offers to drive you both somewhere to get boba, noticing your reluctance to part ways. But boba shops have to close, and you both have class tomorrow morning, and you’re both finding any excuse to keep talking, even if that means sitting outside your dorm building on a nearby bench.

You eventually bid each other good night’s and see you later’s, him refusing to walk away until the heavy door locks shut behind you after you swipe your student ID, and you looking over your shoulder to watch his figure disappear into the night.

True to his intentions, Childe makes great efforts to meet you at least once a day, and he can’t get enough. Each parting from you tugs and tugs at his heart, as if there’s a high possibility you’ll never want to see him again the next day, and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Your twin and Childe get along well for the most part, and he even meets Xiangling on one of her shifts at her regular restaurant, who sends you a salacious wink and an eyebrow wiggle over his shoulder that nearly causes you to burst from embarrassment.

February rolls over without a hitch, even if you’re a little disappointed that Childe didn’t make a move for Valentine’s Day. Granted, you two still spent time with each other and he’s so darn physically affectionate and he bought you a carnation from the event his dorm held, but you wish you had the guts to fess up and just kiss the man.

It’ll happen some day, you tell yourself. You have time before graduation.

Two days before the end of the Friday that would signal the start of Spring Break, you wake up in a cold sweat, mind reeling and head splitting, heart so so heavy, as a connection is made between your present and your dreams. Not long after, there are tears streaming silently down your face and into your open palms placed in your lap, and you sit in shock as everything comes back to you. Memories are such treasured burdens, you realize.

For the most part, you had gotten used to the dreams, choosing to take charge of what you know and feel now with Childe over succumbing to some strange neurological premonitions. Especially in your dreams when many people’s faces were blurred over and hazy, and the only things you could rely on were voices, touch, and other physical features. You thought that maybe your mind was just playing tricks by transposing Childe’s hair onto a body that was also strikingly similar to his, but for the first time last night, you could see each defining feature on his face as clear as day.

The sight of his figure arching gracefully over yours, the water arrows that appeared out of thin air, the back that protected you from some military men, the voice that said, “Hey girlie, hold still.”

And that was when you had snapped awake to your current state.

Past the initial shock and uncontrollable tears, you soon bent over as sobs wracked your chest, overwhelmed by all the emotions and the pain the memories brought you; losing your twin, finding him to only be left with even more questions after roaming for decades and decades, meeting all your loved ones throughout Mondstat and Liyue, fighting yet falling so hard for Childe, feeling the fear when facing his Foul Legacy form, hating him for Osial, loving him, breathing heavily as the tip of your blade was pointed at his neck and his own just centimeters from yours, tendrils of water inching closer and closer--

Everything makes sense now.

When you meet your twin for lunch at the cafeteria, you pay no mind to the fact that you’re in public and hug him harder than you ever have in years. He’s already a little alarmed that your eyes seem swollen and you look like finals came two months early, but when he asks what’s wrong, all he gets is a shake of your head and nothing more than, “Just a bad nightmare. I love you, y’know that?”

“I love you too?”

“Don’t sound so unsure, now let’s go and get in line before they run out of Jueyun Chili Chicken.”

Even when you meet Xiao later in the early evening to talk about your thesis, you find yourself holding back more tears just two minutes in, reminded of his past and his own life, and he’s moderately concerned, hesitantly handing you a tissue from the corner of his desk when a stray tear escapes. “Is everything okay?” He hesitantly asks, really hoping that he didn’t do anything to make you cry.

“No,” you almost wail and sniffle while dabbing at your eyes. “Sorry, it’s just been a really long day.”

Xiao’s inquisitive gaze softens, remembering how hard undergraduate life could be sometimes. Graduate school was a whole other level, but that shouldn’t discount your own personal difficulties. Plus, in all of the year and a half that he’s known you, you’ve never broken down like this before in front of him.

“You work really hard, Xiao,” you continue, and he’s not sure where this is coming from. “You’re always so helpful and willing to work with me and answer my stupid questions and like-- you practice self-care, right?”

Xiao nods as a white lie, but it seems to comfort you. Maybe too much because you pull him in for a quick and unexpected hug, and you both decide to reschedule this meeting for tomorrow.

As per usual, you wait for Childe to join you for dinner since you finished up earlier than expected. It gives you more time to think about everyone from Mondstat -- Kaeya, Diluc, Lisa, Jean, Amber...funny to think that some things never changed as you compared their past version to the ones you know now.

“Mora for your thoughts?”

There’s a peace that warms your heart when you hear Childe’s voice, one that forces you to smile at him as he sits down next to you. “Just thinking about old friends.”

“I have to admit, I’ll be a little jealous if it’s another guy taking up more space than me in that pretty brain of yours.”

What a flirt. This man isn’t good for your heart. “Who said you had any to begin with?”

He dramatically places a hand over his heart. “You wound me, (y/n). How will I ever recover?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you snicker. Childe reaches over to pinch your cheek and you bat at him in protest. Easily, he grabs one of your hands and simply pulls you towards the food lines, knowing that you’ll stop fighting back soon.

Part of it feels strange now to feel and see his hands with no leather gloves on.

“Childe,” you start halfway through your meal, continuing after he hums back in reply. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

He freezes briefly, but recovers so quickly that if you hadn’t been watching so closely, you wouldn’t have noticed. “I think it’s neat, the idea of having past lives. Why do you ask?”

What he really wants to ask is if you’ve been having those dreams, too; if he’s starring in your nights like you have been in his.

“Just a thought, especially since you’re taking Teyvat Myth now, too.”

“Do you...do you think if there was a past life, that we knew each other?”

There’s something about the look of content on your face before you meet his gaze -- he thinks that you know more than you’re letting on but you’re holding back for some reason. He wants to know what’s going through your brain right now, why the fondness in your eyes sends a jolt through him like he’s been searching for it all his life, if you know anything about this magnetic pull between you two.

“I like to think that we knew each other well.”

Even though the first day of your returned memories was somewhat eventful, you couldn’t help but feel yourself wanting to pull back from Childe -- at least, until you can successfully compartmentalize which emotions belonged to you past self and which ones belonged to your current mindset. You didn’t quite agree with his duties and his affiliation with the Fatui back then, even if he had his reasons that did make sense, to some degree.

The killing, the threatening, so intent on stealing Rex Lapis’s Gnosis in the name of the Tsaritsa, summoning Osial as a mean to an end -- and you definitely can’t forget how stubborn he was in not listening to your protests, so caught up in his brain that you had betrayed him and sent you plummeting to a near-death experience despite his earlier promise of no intention of killing you specifically.

Everything had been toeing a faint, thin line with Childe then. Undeniable chemistry and tension, guarding yourself for yours and Paimon’s safety, slashing at Fatui agents, whispering out pleas and affirmations of “I’m yours” while riding him, sometimes having to sneak out in the mornings…

The only thing you don’t remember is how everything ends -- maybe it’ll come back to you eventually, but for now, you think you’re okay not knowing.

If Childe still doesn’t remember anything from back then, you think it’d be unfair to spend time with him in all your conflicting emotions, even when it’s spring break, where you have so much more hours in the day to be with each other than normal. Fun plans around Liyue had been made, like a two-day one-night trip to Yaoguang Shoal, and you’re this close to cancelling on him.

But he had been looking forward to it so much, even made most of the preparations for it. Who are you to rob that joy from him when it was you who couldn’t figure out your own shit? Are you self-destructing?

Perhaps.

Before you know it, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his car, staring out the window at the scenery. Somehow, it pleased you to see that the nature of Liyue had been carefully preserved over the many centuries despite its development into the modern age. You get lost in picking apart the differences between then and now that you don’t notice how quiet you’ve fallen and Childe looks over worriedly when you show no reaction to your favorite songs playing on the stereo.

Even when he calls your name once, twice, nothing gives as you clearly have tuned everything out. So he leaves you be until there’s about half an hour left on the drive, unable to hold back and succumbing to reach over for your hand. You startle so strongly that he almost feels bad for having done it unannounced. But what’s even more disturbing is that this isn’t really the first time.

You’ve been talking to him less, often sitting quietly and staring off into another world that he can’t seem to reach. His texts are answered less frequently and with less wit and enthusiasm, so much so that he just appreciates you still show up to see him. Each time he asks if you’re okay, you always affirm that you are. He’s had a hard time believing you, but Childe believes you’ll tell him when you’re ready, surely.

It’s a little ironic yet fateful that Childe planned to bring you here, of all places. In the past, you had spent many days and nights running around in the sand with him, fighting slimes and hilichurls and collecting starconches for him. You remember laying on a large towel next to him as you both looked up into the sky, pointing out stars and constellations while sharing endless kisses away from prying, spying eyes.

“I’m sorry, I must’ve zoned out,” you sincerely apologize.

“It’s okay, I just wanna make sure you relax while we’re here. This is supposed to be a vacation.”

“You’re right,” you agree and squeeze his hand. “Let’s make the most of it before we become adults who are too busy to have fun like this again.”

And you do. Childe rented a small beach cabin (rich boys) closer to one end of the shoreline, just big enough with two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen with a dining table. You help him bring in your bags and some groceries bought the night before, setting them down quickly so you can peer out the window again to take in the view. Childe picked a good time, too. Although it’d be a little chilly at night, the day was still warm and mainly overcast with clouds.

“What do you say we change into our swimsuits and head down to the water?”

“Sure.”

Childe hadn’t really been expecting for you to step out in a large, casual tee and gym shorts, one shoulder exposed. He might have been hoping to see a little more skin, but his mother didn’t raise a chauvinistic pervert for a son.

The light in your eyes as you both approach the water is everything he had been missing the last few days, your excitement and joy contagious. As soon as you place everything down on the sand, you kick off your flip flops and leave him behind to step into the water, giggling at feeling the waves crash over your ankles and bring sand between your toes. Childe approaches you from behind and starts smearing sunblock on the back of your neck, to which you just grin beautifully at him in thanks and he has to fight off the desire to kiss you right then and there.

You’re too caught up in embracing the ocean afterwards to feel the shrinking distance between you two, mistaking his warmth for the general spring air. It isn’t until he’s done with your shoulders that he hands you the bottle to leave you to do the rest of your body, and when you turn to thank him, he’s much closer than you remember. His eyes are gentle, holding your gaze and almost daring you to look away first.

But if there’s one thing you can place without a shred of doubt, it is the unmistakable look of love, because you had seen it many, many times before without knowing until later what it meant.

How so incredibly lucky you were to have Childe back in your life now, loving you all the same, and with no life-threatening barriers. Fate or the Archons have given you a second chance, and you’d be damned to take it for granted.

Childe welcomes your lips against his, wasting no time to bring you into his arms so you’re pressed against him as much as possible. He can’t care for the overt public display of affection because this is everything he’s wanted for months now, waiting patiently for you to give him permission to make you his. Your lips are incredibly soft and pliant against his as you first kiss him patiently, then applying more force and desperation to taste more of him. He mirrors you, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other on your neck with a thumb extended to your jawline, teeth moving to nip at your bottom lip. It’s dangerous, the way you smile against his lips, and when he sinks his teeth in deeper before pulling back, your quiet mewl nearly drives him over the edge.

But you’re in public, and this was an amazing first kiss. You two have a beach to enjoy and a fun night planned, and now that he doesn’t have to hold back on his affections, it’ll be even better.

His lips part from yours regretfully, his eyes languidly opening to meet yours. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a blue starconch in the sand and freezes.

It’s not that he’s never seen one before, but something clicks. You. The shore. Starconches. Starry nights. His dreams. Monsters. Gods. Fighting. So much fighting. Training. His family. Dragons. You. Falling. You falling. You fighting him. Yelling. Kissing. Loving. Chasing. Him chasing you before you disappear at a teleport waypoint that somehow you only can operate. The abyss. Your twin.

Oh, Archons.

“ -ou okay, Ajax? Ajax?”

He snaps to look at you again. How does he go about this? How does he ask?

“(Y/n)...have you ever heard of the Fatui Harbingers?”

He has to admit that it’s a bit amazing to be able to identify all the emotions that cross your complexion, from curiosity to realization to conflicted. You’re actively trying to piece everything together without revealing too much on the off-chance that you’re wrong, that Childe hasn’t regained his memories and is just asking about something from class randomly and completely out of the blue.

Wait.

“You haven’t reached that material yet in class,” you whisper, heart in your throat at the realization. Could it really be…

“I was once Tartaglia, eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui, who possessed a Delusion and used my Foul Legacy Transformation with you several times,” he murmurs back, tucking a stray tendril behind your ear. “Is it too late to apologize again for summoning an ancient god and letting you fall about five floors with no warning?”

He should’ve been prepared for you wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a tight embrace. “No, never, but I spent weeks after kicking your ass so you’ve been long forgiven.”

Childe burrows his face into your neck, breathing in your scent and basking in this moment. There was so much to talk about, but you two arguably had more time in the world than ever with nothing holding you back. There was no impending war looming over, no one on the run, no opposing forces. His silent wish for a different life with you seems to have been answered finally. If running into you had been the event to set everything in motion, he only wishes he’d done so earlier.

All that matters now is you’re here together in this plane of existence, given a chance to love again, and experience everything you couldn't before.

As written in the stars, take my soul for it is forever yours.

fin

#childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin imagines #childe #tartaglia #childe angst #genshin impact #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #this fic maybe took two years off my life

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aellynera · 3 years

Note

Hi love! Can you do a Oscar Isaac x reader where they do the buzzfeed video reading thirst tweets and he gets jealous of the tweets? Thank you so much, I love your page. ❤️

Hello lovely Nonnie! I’m sorry this took so long, but I finally got super inspired to finish it. It’s not Oscar Isaac per se (I don’t do RPF) but I thought about it a bit and I was like...but I will do a Llewyn AU. So that’s what I did, and here it is, and I hope you and whoever else reads it, enjoys it! (note: most of the tweets came from various Thirst Tweet videos on YouTube, but there are a couple I just made up.)

I Want Llewyn Davis to Blank Me in the Blank (Llewyn Davis x F!Reader, Modern AU)

Word Count: 1300(ish)

Warnings: Some language, sexual references but nothing graphic or explicit just suggestive, floof.

- Llewyn isn’t sure what a BuzzFeed is, and to be honest, he’s not even sure what the hell a thirst tweet is.

- You’re always teasing him that, if the world suddenly loses all technology tomorrow and the internet and social media disappear, he’ll be the only one who will still be able to function, and he’ll probably be a lot happier.

- You’re not wrong.

- He hates social media. Doesn’t understand what the point is really, why so many people are obsessed with it. Yeah, he technically has official accounts on all the major platforms, mainly because you insisted and set them up. They’re just placeholders and he never uses them.

- The only reason he’s even here to do this media gig is because you asked, all wide puppy-dog eyes and gnawed-on bottom lip, and he knows that you know he can’t say no to that.

- Not that he ever really wants to say no to you, but sometimes...

- Now he’s almost one hundred percent certain he regrets it.

- You’ve tried explaining the concept to him, probably like twenty-some times, and you’re trying again now, but as you lead him into the studio it pretty much goes in one ear and out the other.

- People don’t know you’re together, so he’s annoyed by that on top of everything else, because he can’t call you any of the usual pet names that roll off his tongue like melted butter.

- No angel. No baby. No sweetheart. It fucking sucks.

- "It’s not a serious thing, Llewyn. Just...fake it till you make it. Make jokes about it, it’ll be fine,” you tell him.

- You sit side by side at a little table, a couple feet apart, and a production assistant put a little metal bucket in front of each of you.

- Llewyn gives you a weird look. You just shake your head and smile this cute little smile that he does his level best to ignore because, well, you’re in public and nobody knows.

- Then the tweets come out of the buckets.

- Things I requite in a man: five nine, pisces, grammy nominated, llewyn davis. That’s all i ever need.

- Why is Llewyn Davis so attractive? He’s like 30 years older than me and I’m a lesbian but he still gets me hot and bothered.

- I cannot believe Llewyn Davis invented being sexy.

- Llewyn Davis got thicc lips and thicc hips

- I want Llewyn Davis to be my daddy but not in the fatherly kind of way.

- There’s a lot more, but honestly, they all sort of blend together.

- He manages to laugh them off and make some clever comments but he shoots you a look that’s part confusion, part disdain, and really annoyed. You just shrug.

- But then the tweets start coming out of your bucket, and Llewyn’s brain instantly regains its laser-focus.

- First, because everyone calls you by your online handle, which drives the nail further into Llewyn’s coffin because of his inability to actually call you cute names night now.

- Secondly, who do these assholes think they are, talking about his girl like this?

- Hello? Maker? Can we talk about how you put the heavens in AngelEyes’s eyes, because it’s starting to cause some serious problems over here. Kthx.

- I want to lick cherry-flavored jello off AngelEyes fingers, why does life have to be so unfair?

- Sit on my face and suffocate me, AngelEyes.

- AngelEyes’s boobs are a gift from whatever deity you choose to believe in, and if you’re an atheist, well, then more tits for me.

- I’m pretty sure AngelEyes could get all my children out of me, and I’m willing to take that challenge.

- Llewyn’s kind of tuned out, trying not to pay any attention to all the dirty things the world wants to do to you, but his head finally snaps up and his arm does too and his little metal bucket goes crashing to the floor.

- You (and everyone else in the studio) just stare at him.

- “Could I...” he clears his throat, “could I speak to you, for just a minute? Like, out in the hall?”

- “Okay?” you say slowly, but stand up and head towards the door, with him right behind you.

- The door barely has a change to swing shut behind you before Llewyn is on you, frantically pressing his lips to yours in a soul-sucking kiss.

- “Llewyn, what are you doing?” you hiss when you finally break away for air.

- It took quite a few minutes before you absolutely needed that break and you’re fairly certain people are going to come looking for you any second because you have to be taking a lot longer to “talk” than Llewyn implied.

- “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to sit there and pretend all those tweets are okay”

- He’s pressing you against the wall and you can’t help the slightly impish smile that comes to your face. “I have a pretty good idea.”

- Llewyn glares through narrowed eyes. “This isn’t funny, AngelEyes.”

- “I was listening to all the ones people said about you too. Don’t get so worked up, Llewyn, it’s all in good fun.”

- Llewyn snorts.

- “Baby, are you...jealous?” You raise a brow at him.

- “I have half a mind to just take you up against this wall, right now.”

- “You’re jealous.”

- His mouth is suddenly a breath away from yours again, and he murmurs, “I just want people to know that you’re mine. And to know that I’m yours. And to never read a single thirst tweet ever again in my entire life,” before his desperate lips are back on yours.

- This time, he pulls out of the kiss first and you rest your head on his shoulder and try to catch your breath again.

- He’s checking something on his phone - replying to a text from his manager Snap or his sister, maybe, you’re only vaguely aware that he’s actually on his phone at all.

- But then you feel your own phone vibrate in your pocket.

- You pull it out and immediately almost drop it.

- “Llewyn. You...you didn’t.”

- Llewyn looks at you with a completely innocent face. He slides his phone back in his pocket and hooks a thumb towards the door. “I don’t know what you mean, sweetheart. Come on, we should probably get back in there before they send a search party.”

- You barely have time to process the notification that Llewyn Davis (@ folksingerwithacatofficial) has made his first tweet! Check it out! and even less time to actually read it before Llewyn disappears through the door and you have to follow.

- But it there was a picture - you didn’t even know Llewyn knew how to do that. And if he had an extra minute, he’d be inordinately proud of himself.

- It’s from a friend’s rooftop party a couple weeks ago. You’re behind him with your arms around his shoulders, kissing his cheek, and he has his eyes closed and a happy, content little smile on his face.

- There’s no way anyone’s going to look at it and be like, ‘oh they’re just friends.’ But the caption definitely clears it up.

- Never been happier than I am w/AngelEyes by my side. Aren’t enough words to say how much I love you, baby. Maybe I’ll just write you a song or ten.

- You head back into the studio, about to shove your phone back in your pocket, your face burning hotter than the sun, but it vibrates again and you see the corners of Llewyn lips turn up, even though he’s pointedly not looking at you.

- There’s another tweet.

- Now go get some water y’all and stop talking about my girlfriend’s tits. At least give her ass the credit it deserves too.

- Llewyn pretends not to notice when, five minutes later, everyone’s phones and laptops and tablets start blowing up with notifications and reactions. He just pulls you into his lap and kisses you softly on the cheek.

Everything Taglist: @anetteaneta @autumnleaves1991-blog @be-the-spark-flyboy @damerondjarin @deeandbobbymcgee @huxdameron @iflostreturntobudcooper @itspdameronthings @jitterbugs927 @leto-duke @littlebopper96 @reysflyboy @rosemarysbaby13 @spider-starry @veuliee @waatermelon-sugaar @woakiees @writefightandflightclub @yourbucky084

Llewyn Taglist: @santiagogarcia

>>join my taglist here<<

#allison answers #lovely anon #llewyn davis #llewyn davis blurb #llewyn davis x reader #llewyn davis x you #inside llewyn davis blurb #inside llewyn davis modern au #my writing #oscar isaac characters

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archonoftears · 4 years

Text

info: modern au! reader receives a package that helps her tease her boyfriend while he’s at work.

warnings: 18+ smut, slight breeding kink (mentioned), lingerie, phone sex (kinda), pretty vanilla, no penetration, just description, a tiny bit of dom/sub (implied through dialogue)

word count: 1,626

authors note: umm head empty, thoughts only filled with laying in zhonglis bed and teasing him over the phone. i really can’t remove myself from modern au! with ceo daddy zhong. so here we are again. not gonna lie though, i found myself looking at dragon dildos yesterday and now i just wanna write dragon zhongli and sacrificial maiden. so maybe after i finish with the first chapter of my other fic i’ll get right on that.

ps no beta, i just kinda got this out and edited it once. so sorry if any mistakes or issues.

please thirst with me if you want to!!

Glancing around your dining room table you felt defeated by the amount of packages staring back at you. You were surprised by the latest delivery of clothing you had received for PR from a few high end designers. You knew you shouldn't have been shocked, dating a CEO of a multi million dollar cooperation came with many perks. Yet you never imagined anything like this. Knowing the mess would only stay on the table if you didn’t start tackling it. You began opening up a few packages, finding bags and shoes. Even the latest spring wear from the major brand ‘Liyue Qixing’ sat in a box for you. Before setting your eyes on a more intricate looking box. Opening it to discover some of the most beautiful lingerie you had seen in a long time. Looking at the brand name ‘Scent of Spring’. You didn’t recognize it, but you were quite enamored with the pieces inside.

Forgoing opening any more packages you quickly gathered the items in the box and wandered off to the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend. Selecting a ivory and gold silk longline balconette bra, with matching thong, and harness. The gold tulle flowers that patterned the silk and lace were soft and delicate under your fingers. You couldn’t go a second longer without wearing the beautiful set. Quickly stripping off the clothes you were wearing and slipping on the lingerie. Loving the feel of the soft lace and silk against your skin. Staring at yourself in the mirror.

‘This lingerie had to be designed by some deity who knew Zhongli’s taste.’ You thought to yourself as you admired the way the balconette bra exposed half of your breast and how the thong straps cut into the flesh of your hip in a sexy way, giving your body a more defined silhouette.

A light bulb went off in your head, walking over to grab your phone and opening the camera app, returning back to the mirror. Posing yourself quite provocative as you snapped several photos, dropping to your knees and taking a few more photos, before flipping through them. A coy smile playing on your lips as you went to call Zhongli.

Zhongli was startled by the sound of his phone ringing on his desk, glancing down to see your contact photo, a smile immediately forming on his face, he swiped to answer.

“Hello (name), is everything alright my dear?” Zhongli greeted as he turned from the documents in front of him and leaned back in his chair. You seldom ever called him when you knew he was going to be in the office all day, preferring to email him if you needed anything so he assumed this must have been important.

“Everything is fine, just calling to see what you were up to.” You greeted over the phone. Zhongli let out a small sigh, relieved that nothing was wrong.

“I’m just preparing for a meeting with Fatui Industries in a little bit.” Zhongli started, glancing at the clock to check the time. “What are you doing today my dear.” He asked, knowing you didn’t have much on your schedule today.

“Well I was going through some packages I received, you know the PR kind. It was mostly clothes from some nice designers.” You hummed, he could hear you twirling your hair in your fingers as you spoke.

“Oh really? Hopefully they sent things that are your style.”

“That’s why I was calling actually. There was this one package, the clothes are really nice. But I think they’re more to your taste, and I wanted to get your opinion on them.” You confessed.

“Of course, I can do that when I get home for you if you would like.” Zhongli replied, glancing at the clock noting that he had about 27 minutes until his meeting. “I should be done with work after I meet with Signora and Childe.”

“I’m actually sending you a couple photos right now, please check your email and tell me what you think.” He couldn’t put his finger on it, but you seemed awfully excited about all of this but he complied with your request.

“Of course, one moment.” Opening his email, quickly finding the one from you at the top and opening it, his eyes widening in realization as he enlarged one of several photos in the email. His voice catching in his throat as he examined it.

“Are the clothes to your liking, sir.” You cooed from the other end of the phone, knowing very well they were in fact to his liking.

“Ms. (Name)..” Zhongli growled quietly.

“Yes sir?” You asked innocently, Zhongli aware of the game you were playing, but nevertheless here he was clicking on the next photo, feeling his pants grow tighter as he continued to view the photos. The one of you on your knees sending more blood rushing to his already aching erection.

“Are you being a good girl right now?”

“I’m always a good girl Sir.”

“Are you? You don’t look to be acting like a good girl in these photos.”

“Then should I send you some more photos so you make sure I’m being good?” He could feel himself getting riled up just by the implications of what was being said.

“Well… I’ve already sent them so hopefully you don’t mind.”

Not needing to be told twice Zhongli refreshed his email inbox to find a new message. Opening it to discover new attachments. Slowly he clicked the first picture. Finding you not in front of the mirror in the bedroom anymore, but now on the black sateen sheets of the bed the two of you shared. Angling the camera in a way to show how you would look if he had you pinned down. You looked ravishing, from the way you let your cleavage spill out exposing your nipples, to the way you spread your legs.

The next photo your hand was on one of your breast cupping and pinching the nipple. The next photo was taken lower, your hand was now in your panties clearly teasing yourself. And the final attachment was a video, it was no more than 15 seconds, but in those 15 seconds you show yourself pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy, before dragging your fingers out of yourself and licking the wet slick off your digits. Zhongli was taking deep breaths as he watched. His eyes following your every movement.

“Sir…” You moaned, lust lacing every syllable. “Do you think I look like a good girl in those photos?”

Zhongli couldn’t say anything for a moment. Letting the video replay itself over and over, his eyes finding new things to focus on each time it replayed. From the way your plump lips wrapped around your fingers or the way you quivered when you plunged your two digits into yourself. He just wanted to see you do more.

“When did being a good girl equate to acting like quite the little slut? Surely I’ve taught you better than that.” Zhongli replied firmly, as he adjusted the way he was sitting to accommodate his throbbing cock.

“This is what you’ve taught me…” the breathiness of your voice letting him know you were in fact still touching yourself as you replied.

“I don’t recall teaching you to send provocative photos to me while I’m at work.” He glanced at the clock again, 16 minutes until the meeting. Fuck.

“Did they make you hard?” You asked suddenly.

He was not a liar, so he wouldn’t lie to you. “Yes they did…”

“Did they make you want to come home and stuff your big. thick. cock inside of me.” The punctionaction of your words were breaking him down.

“Yes they did…”

“Master are you going to come home so I can show you how much of a good girl I am, when I’m milking your cock.”

“My Lily… I-” Zhongli wasn’t used to you being this forward with him.

“I need you to come home and fuck me now. Because if you don’t pump me full of your cum I might go crazy.” You whined your voice working wonders on his resolve. “Please… Please come home and breed me sir.”

One final weak glance at his clock showed he had 9 minutes before they would arrive.

You moaned again calling his name out through the phone, the thread holding his composure together snapping.

“You’re not allowed to cum until I get home do you understand.” Zhongli growled into the phone, quickly on his feet, grabbing his bag and making his way to the door of his office. “Do you understand?”

“Yes sir..!” You exclaimed.

“I hope you understand you won’t be walking for the next few days my Little Lily.” He warned before leaving the safety of his private office.

“Yes yes! Hurry please.”

“I am.” Quickly saying goodbye and hanging the phone up with you, while walking towards two approaching figures.

“Mr. Zhongli goo-” Signora began, reaching her hand out to greet him, but he didn’t meet it.

“My apologies, there seems to be an emergency at home, can you meet with my assistant to reschedule.” Zhongli haphazardly explained. “Again my deepest apologies.” He finished, turning on his heel and b lining it to the exit. Letting the receptionist know that he was leaving and scrambling for the parking garage.

“What do you think his emergency was?” Signora stood bewildered where Zhongli had left her and Childe.

“Do you think everything is alright?

Childe seemed to be having the best laugh of his life as his colleague pondered the obvious.

“Trust me everything’s fine.” Childe said in between laughs. “We should probably reschedule for Monday, he’ll probably need the whole weekend off.”

“This is why I hate partnering with you, you’re too vague sometimes.”

#zhongli x reader #zhongli x fem!reader #zhongli x you #modern au! genshin impact #smut #imagine a big bed of black and gold sheets #a bed designed for a god #that's the bed i wanna be spread out on for zhongli #cakey cries #genshin impact x reader #rex lapis x reader #morax x reader #genshin x reader

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anime-boy09 · 3 years

Text

Sukuna X Fem!reader lemon

Synopsis - You live in a house with Megumi, Nobara and Yuji Itadori/Sukuna. You understand Yuji and Sukuna do switch out while having the same body, and it is no big deal. Yuji is pretty fun to be around and you enjoy his energy. Whenever Sukuna is out, he always gets a little handy. This is a college au but everyone can still use their cursed arts.

NSFW Warning: 18+, some holding down stuff, overstimulation, dominant!sukuna, teasing, smut, vaginal stuff, edging, some butt stuff? Very little though.

Note: uhh, this is my first time writing stuff like this XD so bear with me!

Words: 3.2K

=============================================

It was a long day for you. College studies and work. The skies were dark by the time you got home and you were ready to relax.

You noticed Yuji come out of his room, looking sleepy.

“Oh, [your name] you’re home! Whats up??” He bounced over to you.

“Hey Itadori, well...pretty freaking beat but I’m alright.” You take your jacket off and hang it on a hook. Then, you made your way to a couch and plopped down on it.

“Worked ya’ hard today, huh?” He entered the kitchen that was nearby, opening the fridge to search for a good snack.

You nodded. Your job wasn’t necessarily a difficult one, but a busy one. You worked at a local coffee shop near the college you attended. Because it was on campus, it was always full of students and teachers alike.

“I’ll probably take a shower soon and then head to bed for the night..” You checked your phone for a bit, searching through messages and notifications.

Yuji made a muffled sound as he was munching on some melon bread he found in the fridge.

“Shounds good! (sounds good)” He finished eating the bread quickly before continuing.

You put your phone away and stared at him intently. “No peeking this time!”

He got flustered and looked away pouting, “Was not even my fault!! Booo....”

You wagged a finger at him and stood up from the couch. He was cute when he pouted. You giggled and then headed towards the bathroom door, opening and closing it behind you. You made sure to lock the door.

Definitely don’t need any surprises tonight.

You started undressing from your work uniform. You pulled your pants down along with your panties. Then unbuttoned your shirt and slid it off to reveal your blouse and bra underneath.

The cold air felt nice on your warm skin. You finished undressing and set the clothes aside to a corner of the bathroom. You then turned on the shower and made sure it was set to a warm setting.

After a moment, you stepped into the shower and slid the shower door closed. The water hits your skin like a breath of fresh air. You sat under the water for a moment and then took some body wash to scrub your skin down.

You washed your arms and chest first. Your breasts weren’t too big of an issue, but sometimes it made your upper back hurt. You moved to your stomach and sides, humming along to a popular song that was stuck in your head.

The doorknob jiggled from the outside, though you did not hear it at first. You continued to wash your legs and hips, your body relaxing. It jiggled again and you stopped to look towards the door through the tinted glass.

“Don’t even think about it!” You called out, worried that Yuji was attempting to get into the bathroom. You knew Yuji was kind of a perv, but you also thought he was adorable at the same time. Maybe you had a slight crush on him..but now’s not the time to be thinking about this!

That other part of him was a force to be reckoned with. You know he’s a curse who is technically Yuji too. But...he’s also different.

He’s not afraid to be forward and blunt. He’s made nasty comments about your “innocent” body here and there. Although they were uncalled for remarks, you could not lie about how it made you feel.

Was it because he was a thousand year old demon? A deity that can take you down. You bit your lip a little.

“Oh! Snap out of it…!” You told yourself and patted your cheeks, flustered. Sukuna was also technically Yuji.

Yuji and you were pretty good friends too...

The doorknob did not jiggle again and the only noise came from the shower.

You were not sure about what the noise was. Maybe it was your imagination playing tricks?

You sighed, too tired for this shit. You continued to wash your face and hair. It was quiet for a time being.

“You think you can lock yourself away? Naughty girl.” The sultry sound of someone's voice whispered in your ear from behind.

You whipped your body around but no one was in the shower with you. Confused, you covered your body up with your arms.

“Y-You better not be in here!!” You growled through your teeth. You heard a deep, lavish chuckle from inside the bathroom.

“But, I am displeased at this moment. Do continue cleaning that dedicant body of yours.” His voice was velvety and rich with pleasure.

You blushed and put your hand on the door handle to keep it closed.

“H-how did you even get in here??” You stuttered out, covering your chest with a free arm.

The voice laughed and sucked his teeth before replying.

“Were you thinking of me? You’re so flustered. Also, I am not a feeble human like you are. I have my ways” He put his hand on the shower door, and you could see the shadow of his body.

The shower door flung open and there stood what looked like Yuji standing outside the shower. His pink hair was pushed back, thick tattoos lined his face and his eyes were crimson red.

You squeaked and covered yourself, embarrassed.

“Now, [your name] there is no need to be modest.” Sukuna entered the shower with you after taking off his shirt. He left his shorts on for the time being.

You backed up into a far corner of the shower, intensely blushing. Perhaps you have thought about moments like this one before.

But you never thought it would come into fruition like this!

You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as Sukuna came closer to you. His eyes scanned over your wet, naked body. It felt as if he was looking straight through you. Feeling you up without doing so.

Your body stood frozen by the corner. You wanted to push him out and yell at him, but you felt hypnotized. Your eyes didn’t meet his.

“G-get out! I-i’m…!” Before you could reply, he reached out to grab your chin to force you to look at him.

“Poor little lamb. Cowering in the corner...Look at me. I know your body yearns.” His lips pull into a grin.

You were kind of turned on by this..shit. You thought to yourself. You’re playing into him...but you can’t stop.

You try to move away from his grasp. Sukuna let go of your chin, only to grab your wrists and pin them above your head.

You were now fully exposed to the King of Curses. You squeaked when you realized your body was up for grabs.

“Let go! you!...Ah!” You tried to yell at him, but his free hand started fondling your body.

“Many nights, I wanted to do this. In the bed, in the living room...but this prison of a brat traps me. It’s so disappointing…”

You bit your lip so nothing would escape. “W-why not go for Nobara or something??” You look at his eyes this time, as they gazed upon your own.

“Her? That crazy bitch? Don’t make me laugh.” His grip tightened your wrists. With a smirk, he pinched one of your wet nipples which made you gasp.

“That’s what I like to hear instead. Come on, louder.” He pinched harder which made your body

You flinch away from his touch.

You were stubborn. This demon looking guy was the King of Curses who could easily take you down.

In more ways than one.

You just glared into his eyes, and ceased all noise. This made him impatient. Maybe that was not a good move on your end.

“Oho~? Gonna be tough for me, girlie? Two can play at this game. I will get what I want.” His voice sounded rough and lavish, which sent chills up your spine.

He let go of your wrists, but somehow they were still in place. You were confused by this and attempted to move them forwards. Nothing was budging.

They were being held by his second pair of arms.

“Sukuna! Agh, let me gooo!” You whined, wiggling in the corner. He watched your breasts move about, his gaze moving towards your hips.

The stream of water was still running, drenching your hair. Sukuna’s shorts were getting wet and you swore you could start seeing an outline of something...big.

He moved to press his lips against your soft skin, starting at your stomach and going lower...and lower….

You could squeeze your legs shut, but it was no use. His large hand was pressed into your thigh, keeping it firmly in place.

The next thing you knew, his soft tongue was pressing into your womanhood. Your body shivered and you let a small whine out of your mouth.

“Ahhh, you’re already drenched. Dirty girl. You’re in luck..I’m hungry.” He said the last part with an evil chuckle and continued to drag his rough tongue up and down your folds.

This was a new feeling to you. Of course you’ve had sensual activities before, but nothing like this.

Your hips move by themselves against his tongue. Damn, this felt good, you thought to yourself.

There was no hesitation in his movements. He grabbed your ass tight too which made you moan out.

“Stay put, girlie! Damn!” He slapped your ass which made you squeak from that too. You whined and tried to keep your hips still. “Ugh, let me do what I want” He shot a glare up at me with his red eyes.

You met his gaze with your own glazed eyes.

He kept lapping at your womanhood and started focusing on that little button of yours. This made your back arch against the back of the shower. You shook your head from how sensitive it was.

This only made Sukuna want more of you.

He began to suck on it harshly without a break. You gasped and whined against the shocks that boiled up in your stomach.

“S-sukuna..~” You moaned out unconsciously. He smirked and then pulled his face away from your womanhood.

“What is it, you little slut? Want more? You’re going to have to beg.” He dug his nails into your thighs and dragged them.

Why is he so good at this?! You thought to yourself, your body shuddering.

“N-no…! I-I don’t…” You looked away from him and bit your lip. This was not the answer he was looking for from you. He frowned and slapped your ass, putting his hand right in the middle, lifting one of your cheeks. You squeaked from the sudden slap.

You felt something wet and thick enter your behind, teasing the other hole.

You audibly gasped and wiggled from the feeling. What was this?!

Sukuna had two arms holding your wrists up, one on your behind and another holding your leg up. He moved closer to your face with an evil smirk.

His hand had opened a mouth and extended a tongue between your cheeks.

“...I said, beg for it, slut.” His tongue on his hand didn’t go deep, just enough to drive you crazy. It kept gliding past this second hole and your entrance ever so gently.

Your hips attempted to follow the lapping tongue’s movements but it was just close enough to every sensitive bit down there to irritate you. You moved your hips around and whined at the roughness of the tongue.

“P..please…” You panted out, your body quivering.

“Please...what?” He pulled his hand away from your behind and the mouth disappeared on it. He grabbed your face with it.

“Please s-sir....b-but..out of the shower?” You wanted more. The shower water was increasingly annoying.

Sukuna rolled his eyes and picked you up in his arms abruptly. You had no time to react. He booked it to your bedroom and slammed you down on the bed angrily.

“You’re fucking lucky no one else is here right now..” He growled and pushed your knees up to your chest to continue his meal.

“What-! Ahh~...” You whined out, feeling his warm mouth back onto your folds. His grip was so strong that you could barely move. Everything was tingling and sensitive.

He then slid two fingers inside of your entrance, moving them violently in and out of you. You practically screamed at the sudden movements inside your walls.

“Yeah? I want to hear more, (Your name).” His long fingers hit every inch of your insides, and it felt so good. Your womanhood was quivering and you felt like you were getting close.

“S-sukuna...I-i’m going t-to-” You could barely speak but those were the words that were stuttering out. He smirked again and took his fingers out.

Your body was trembling with anticipation, waiting for a release. You were just about to come when he stopped. You pouted and looked at Sukuna, wondering what his plan was.

“You are not allowed to have all the fun. My turn. Flip over.” He barked at you. You flipped your body over onto your knees, looking up at him.

He dropped his shorts and stood menacingly in front of you; his gaze was intimidating to you.

His member was...intense. He pushed it against your lips. “Open them.”

You obeyed him and opened your mouth. He grabbed the back of your head and moved it up and down on his member. You whined against his size and started sucking properly.

Sukuna leaned his head back and groaned at the feeling of your warm mouth.

“Mm...you feel hot, [your name]...” He breathed deeply as you wrapped your tongue around him.

You had no control over your head at first. His cock was forcing itself in and out of your small mouth, close to your throat. This made you gag and want to pull away from him. He stopped briefly and let you move your head to the side to cough.

“I-i’m sorry...ack!” your own spit was running down your chin, as you looked up to him like a puppy dog. Tears glistened the corners of your eyes. Sukuna raised a hand to your cheek and pushed them away with his thumb.

“Don’t cry on me...I should be apologizing…!.” a softer voice spoke. It sounded like Yuuji’s. His eyes looked apologetic, but turned on. He didn’t appreciate Sukuna throwing you around but, what could he do? When the Lord of Curses was in this hot and heavy mood, nothing changed until he was finished.

The hand that nicely rested on the side of your cheek, then grabbed your mouth and squeezed your face together.

“Why did you stop? Because your small mouth can’t handle my cock?” He scuffed at you. “I know what can though” He smirked and your eyes widened, shaking your head.

“P-please...n-not there!” Your blush intensified. You have done it before but with his size...there’s no way!

Sukuna pushed you over and spread your legs. He was about to push himself in when you stopped him. “Wait! Protection!” You motioned to a nearby dresser and he rolled his eyes.

“Seriously? You don’t want to bear my offspring?” He chuckled and you narrowed your eyes at him. “How disappointing…fine, I will listen to you this time, on one condition. Make a deal with me beforehand.”

You gulped and leaned up onto your elbows. Making a deal with a demon seems sketchy, especially in the predicament you are in right now. “... what’s your deal?” You replied cautiously.

“I will wear protection...if you let me go hard and do what I need to do.” He ran a finger along the inner side of your thigh. This made you shiver. You are definitely not walking straight after this.

You bit your lip and nodded “O-okay..” You felt your body heat up as he went to put on a condom. Once he was back, you had moved to your stomach, butt up in the air for him.

He didn’t care what position you were in, he just wanted to be pleasured. He grabbed your hips and pressed his member against your entrance.

“It’s gonna be so good, girlie. You’ll want more” He then pushed in without a second thought. You barely had time to get used to it as you moaned out.

Your legs trembled at the feeling of his girth stretching you wide. You wondered if Yuji was able to feel this as well...you felt embarrassed for a second. It didn’t last long because Sukuna started going fast and hard into you.

You squeaked and then started moaning with every push, your mind melting away. He grunted, feeling your insides squeeze and pulse around his member.

“T-too….fast!” You managed to whine out as you squeezed the sheets. He replied with a slap on your ass. You yelped out, taking that as a warning to keep quiet.

. You made a deal with him and that deal stands until he releases.

The thrusting continued, on and on...your mind felt like jello. You moaned and whined with each passing push.

Your body started to tremble from the amount of times you’ve come. You attempt to pull yourself away from his grasp and he notices.

“...where are you heading to...slut?” He panted and grabbed your arms, pinning them behind your back. With those arms he brought you to sit up on your knees.

Sukuna slowed his pace and whispered in your ear seductively. “...ohhh [your name]~ your pussy makes me feel soooo good.” His tongue glided up your sensitive ears, your heart skipping a beat.

“That’s a good girl. Obey me…” He had all four arms out once again, like he did in the shower. This meant he had more control over your alluring body. He reached around your body with curious hands, one landing on your breast and another by your cunt.

You gasp at the feeling of hands assaulting your overstimulated body. He cupped your breast in his hand, giving it a loving squeeze.

“...Say my name.” The wandering hand by your cunt began to tease your button. The one part of your body that seemingly shut you down whenever it was pleasured.

You shook your head, moaning out “No! S-sukuna..!” Your hips swayed from side to side, in over to avoid his fingers. His hips moved faster, holding you in place with your arms forcefully.

“Don’t make me angry...little girl~. I have many plans for you.” His thrusts grew impatient as he quicked his hips once more. He was growing close and you could tell.

His sultry moans were echoing the room with your own voice. He continued to spin his finger tips around the top of your clit, teasing your hood.

He pinched and twisted your little button within his quick fingertips, sending continuous moans out your mouth.

The wave of overstimulation crept up your spine and into your stomach.

You had no time to react to letting yourself squirt all over the sheets. You came over his cock, making your walls squeeze tightly against him. This made him groan and lose himself a little.

“[your name]....o-oh yeah…!” He came into the condom and held you close to his glistening body. He dug his sharp teeth into your shoulder, breaking the skin. You gasped from the bite and felt his member get warm on the inside.

He let go of your bruised shoulder and pulled out of your sore cunt. Your sore body fell to the bed, quivering and panting. Sukuna groaned and tossed the filled condom into a nearby trash.

You were gonna feel this one tomorrow for sure. You squeezed your eyes shut and relaxed for a moment. Sukuna saw that you weren't getting up or moving right away and leaned down into your face.

"Yo girlie, you good? This brat is worried." He motioned to himself, meaning Yuji. You slowly nodded and replied, "y-yeah...just need a second..."

He sighed and plopped down on the bed next to your body.

"w-what are you doing...I said i'll be okay.." You looked over to him, laying next to you. Without looking, he grabbed the back of your head and forced it into his chest.

"Just stop talking."

You weren't expecting this...kindness? He was so rough a moment ago and now he's a different person. Maybe Yuji's yelling at him? It didn't matter now...all you wanted to do was rest, if only for a moment.

#jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #anime #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna x y/n

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hansolmates · 3 years

Text

shiver | 09

banner by the lovely @dnrequests

summary; jungkook changed since he moved out of his small town church community and attended college. when he returns for a christmas mass, you suddenly crave a taste of his fun and carefree life. in exchange, jungkook craves a taste of you pairing; bad boy!jungkook x church girl!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers, coercion, brief childhood friends to enemies, fwb!au, catholic guilt, jungkook is a meanie who eventually turns into a soft tsundere, bicuriosity, sexual exploration, virgin!oc, eventual smut—in this installment, I KNOW it does not take 2 hours to reach level 9 blond esp on asian hair, hair aficionados pls don’t sue me w/c; 879 a/n; last installment before everything comes into place! this pairing is just so delightfully awkward and mildly uncomfortable sometimes, sometimes i try to imagine this pairing in their childhood bumbling around and it still reflects in their adulthood. next part will be tomorrow, and it will be 😳 enjoy! [shiver masterpost]

“They keep saying that there’s this grand plan in the world, and we’re all just itty-bitty fragments of it.” You kick petulantly at the snow that hasn’t been shoveled yet, “small, minor, and insignificant.”

“What do you mean,” Jungkook mumbles, his words warm and grey with frost when he exhales in the cold day.

“I mean that we’re servants to this grand plan,” you say plainly, as if defeated, “and I’m trying to wrap my head around why that doesn’t seem so appealing now.”

Jungkook never realized how smart you really are. Sure, his parents have told him stories about how you would be able to crunch numbers and create full potluck dinners in a matter of hours, or how you would be able to stop the loudest of babies in the cry room with your softest blanket and a bedtime story.

You’ve always been questioning, moreto yourself than anything. Jungkook always wondered where the energy went, the hours upon hours of dedication to the deity. Where does this spent exhaustion lead to, is he building up credit to save himself or to serve?

Your presence is muted, but strong. Your white puffy jacket helps you meld between the snowflakes, your face barely popping out with your scarf wrapped tightly around your neck. The beanie you’re wearing has an oversized white pom-pom, bouncing like a cotton-tailed rabbit as you walk down the street.

“Yeah, that scared me a lot,” Jungkook doesn’t know how to add anything articulate, so he settles for being honest, “when I first came to school here, I kinda went wild.”

“Kinda?”

“Okay, majorly,” Jungkook sulks, kicking a random stone on the pavement, “fucked around, painted on the walls, did drugs.”

“You still do those things.”

“Only fucking around with you, like I promised,” Jungkook replies pointedly, “and now I only paint on walls I’m paid to do. And I stopped trying drugs after Easter of freshman year.”

“Oddly specific,” you put a finger on your lips, “have you ever tried acid?”

He guaffs, “Do you even know what acid’s like?”

“Sounds bad. I mean it’s literally called acid.”

The two of you stop at an intersection. There’s a bunch of stores on both ends of the street. The roads seem to narrow, and you move away from Jungkook and jab your finger in a vague direction, “I have to do something over there,” you say.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, “Okay. I’ll wait for you,” he gestures to the bags in his hands. Secondhand textbooks that the two of you went to pick up together. You didn’t plan to meet prior, however happenstance had you two meeting eyes in the corner of the tiny rental store.

“You don’t have to, we didn’t come together anyway.”

“You’re being secretive,” Jungkook peeks over to the inconspicuous street, unsure of what you’re planning to do. “Are you going to do something impulsive?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay,” he shrugs, “I’ll go do something impulsive too. Meet you here in two hours?”

You make a face as Jungkook whips the other way, carrying your bags over his shoulder as he crosses the street. A funny guy, you think, as you walk to your intended way. Getting to know Jeon Jungkook as an adult is a whole different ball game.

Maybe him breaking your heart all those weeks ago was a good thing. A reset. You’re able to see Jungkook for more than the childhood love you held near and dear to your heart. Although that part of yourself might never disappear because first loves are flawed to be unforgettable, it’s nice to constantly be surprised by Jungkook’s mannerisms as a young man.

When you finally find the shop you enter as quietly as possible, minding the concentration that steeps the room.

“Jamais Vu Tattoo, can I help you?” you can’t help but smile at the receptionist for unintentionally making a half-rhyme.

“Hi, I have an appointment with Yoongi?”

“Your hair!”

“You like it?”

Feeling grabby, you get on your tippy toes to admire the freshly dyed locks. Your fingers weave between the white-gold strands, amazed at the fact it only took two hours for it to lift. The toner didn’t pull all the brassiness, however you quite like the dark roots, making him look a little more rugged. You didn’t know that this type of color could be possible in such little time, but then again Jungkook never ceases to surprise you.

“Your hair’s still a little crunchy,” you muse, feeling a bit of crispy ends despite the trim he also received.

Jungkook frowns, “It’ll be fine.”

“I have a hair mask at home, swing by so you can borrow it.”

“Don’t need a hair mask,” he grumbles, “I have my own.”

You giggle, scrunching your nose and hiding your nose in your scarf. One thing you used to admire about Jungkook is his attention to cleanliness. In high school, most boys were gross and wouldn’t bother to care for the little things—laundry, a skincare routine, a work ethic. Jungkook makes sure his hair is kempt and his skin clear.

“It’s cute,” you declare, “and pretty."

“I dyed my hair blond because it’s sexy, not cute,” Jungkook scrunches his brows together.

“Cute,” you repeat, walking ahead of him and into the street.

#btsguild #btsghostie #btswritingcafe #kwritersworldnet #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts x reader

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ktheist · 4 years

Text

03 — show me yours & i’ll show you mine | m

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 1.9k

➙ warnings. explicit content, fingering, mild exhibitionism

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ synopsis. “why are you doing this if you’re not gonna fuck me?”

saturday evening, taehyung comes up to you with a face of a blank canvas, phone in his hand facing the ceiling and relays the news of his break up.

you’re in the middle of watching a show with his two brothers on your laptop.

“wh-what?” is all you manage to say whilst namjoon and seokjin freeze in their spots.

“i broke up with her,” taehyung’s shoulderline rises as he casually shrugs.

“but why?” deep down, you have an inkling - but your mouth moved on its own before you can even stop it.

“cause she was shit talking you,” and with that, he twirls around, heading back to the hallway where one of the doors connect to his room.

and just like second nature, your body shoots up, trailing after the slumped man like a mother to her pupper.

“you guys watch without me,” you briefly say to the two men on the couch, their faces scrunching with growing concern.

for the first time in a long time, you and taehyung bare your hearts to each other. talked about your fears and hopes and what keeps you going. which is, to an extent, each other and the two brothers. you’re not sure how you fell asleep but you wake up with a leg sprawled all over your stomach and a snoring sound echoing against the wall. the blanket draped over you and taehyung isn’t part of his bedset because one, you and taehyung end up sleeping on top of the sheets and two, you know the only one brother out of the three loves the color blue so much, his bedsheets and blankets are always themed with light cerulean. and this blanket - you’ve definitely seen seokjin use a dozen times.

"hey, morning,” you greet the two brothers whilst they’re unpacking what seems to be takeouts from a store you all collectively agree have no bad item in their menu.

everyone eats just about anything from that restaurant.

“morning, sleepyhead.” namjoon shakes his head, smiling - it’s probably the hair pointing in different directions.

“how’s taehyung?” seokjin asks when you come to sit on the stool next to where he’s standing.

“well, i mean - he’s not in a good place,” you begin, “i know he really liked her. and i know she talks shit about me behind my back and she knows i do too and he’s always caught in between, but he always seemed to brush it off and never take sides you know? so i didn’t think he’d break up with her over it.”

“hey, it’s not your fault,” the hand on your shoulder is warm, seeping into your heart as you examine the sincerity of those brown eyes, down to the reassuring smile of those plump lips.

“thanks for saying that, jinnie,” you want to ask for a kiss (and maybe some dick) but with namjoon - though he’s cluelessly continuing with his task of preparing the takeouts - around, you settle for patting his hand that’s on your shoulder.

after washing your face and returning to the kitchen, you find the previously sleeping-like-a-long giant perched on one of the stools, rubbing the grogginess out of his eyes.

“look who’s up!” a smack lands on taehyung’s back.

the aforementioned man doesn’t even flinch as he takes another second to rub all the sleepiness away before craning his neck to look at your smiling face - it may be a dumb smile but someone’s got to be lifting the atmosphere.

“i thought you left,” he grumbles, before his arm snakes around your waist and brings you in for a side hug.

the recoil is almost automated as your smile scrunches into a cringe, arms flailing to push him away and at least get a few inches gap in between,“ew, what the hell.”

“i’m sad! gimme a hug,” he laments whilst namjoon laughs, commenting something about how “adorable” the two of you are and how it “...reminds me of the good old days, you know?”

he means when you and taehyung aren’t as resistant to skinships.

but all your attention goes to the eldest brother whose glance lingers a second too long before he tears his gaze off from you and taehyung.

it turns out that little bitch tried making taehyung choose between you and her after he’d texted her (in an attempt to placate her jealousy-prone heart) about how you’d opted to room with seokjin in yesterday.

give them and inch and they’ll take a mile.

“i should’ve known,” taehyung shakes his head, bags heavy under his eyes as he lies in his bed, cocooned by the light cerulean blanket, “you don’t like her but you like everyone-”

“don’t you go justin bieber on me,” you smack him in the stomach, to which he curls up into a caterpillar, moaning in pain and something about suing for personal injuries.

but the fact that he can complaint at all means that he’s recovered half of himself.

“i’m getting some food from the kitchen, you want anything?” you roll your eyes.

“how bout a new girlfriend?” he manages to say, despite the so called blow to the stomach.

“potato chips it is,” you nod before strutting out of the door.

the hallway is dimly lit, save for the lone light in the ceiling and the slightest bit of gap that allows luminescence to pour out of seokjin’s room. so you knock on the door, leaning against the frame, “hey.”

kim seokjin sits on the chair you previously occupied the night before, round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as his eyes widen for the briefest second before offering you one of his warm smiles, “hey, how’s taehyung?”

“he’s eating,” you shrug, trying to appear casual even though something in the way his shirt swallows his already broad built and making him appear like you can fight him and win - gets your heart doing flips.

“that’s gre-” he can’t even properly get his response out because you’re already crossing the short distance between you and him, hands cupping his cheeks before smashing your lips against his. as if you haven’t had water for days. as if you’ve been breathing with your head barely above water.

his hands find their way on your hips, kissing you back more delicately than you can ever control yourself. tingles dot your skin from where his hand caresses your elbow and travels up your arm, lingering there, as though forgetting the reason his warning touch.

“i needed that,” you break away only to steal another kiss before confessing.

seokjin chuckles, his hand slipping over to your chest before attempting to pinch your nipple. to which he fails because your padded bra successfully blocks him off.

“oh, you’re wearing a bra?” the genuine surprise gleaming in his eyes should offend you.

“unless you want your brother accidentally touching my nips while we were wrestling each other to decide who gets to use your comfy as hell blanket,” you roll your eyes.

taehyung won, obviously. which explained why he was lying in bed like a human burrito just now.

“i’d have to give taehyung a personal beating if that happened,” the dorky grin and amused glint in his whenever he cracks a not-so-funny-but-adorable joke, isn’t present.

your heart’s always done this thing where it skips with every smile that curls on his lips, yet the lack of it and the underlying seriousness of his tone is making your heart lurch in your throat, warmth spreading all over your body.

“anyways, i need to get taehyung some chips, thanks for the kiss.” you wave but something wraps around your wrist like an iron hold seconds before you find yourself perched in seokjin’s lap and the man dangerously close to you - despite having shared a passionate kiss just a moment ago.

“taehyung this, taehyung that,” his hand slips under your shirt, coarse hand trailing up your back until you feel him unhooking your bra in one go.

like he’s had enough practice in the art of seduction.

“well, he’s the one out of the four of us with a broken heart,” you pray to the constellations and deities that your voice is levelled though it soon proves to be pointless if his other hand’s snaking up your front and hovers over your chest where he could feel the organ beneath beating wildly.

“you’re breaking mine though... with spending that much time with my brother,” he traps your nipple in between his thumb and index finger, caressing, teasing with a smile that ironically has probably broken a few hearts of his own.

“i can fix that,” you beam, finger tracing down his front and down to the waistline of his pants, to which you can’t reach unless you scoot away to allow your hand to -

“not right now,” the sound of wind chimes drum in your ears as he chuckles.

it makes the umpteenth rejection a little less prickly, as you pout, “when?”

“soon,” and with that, he takes your wrist in his hand, making you push your own shirt up until your nipples are bare in the open, “hold this up for me, please.”

it’s the please that gets you.

ever the gentleman even as he’s about to tease you with his teeth against your nipples and his free hand fondling your other breast.

“why are you doing this if you’re not gonna fuck me?” you grunt, displeased, but arch your back anyway to make it easier for him to suckle and bite on your erected nipples.

you’ve always thought his hair looked soft but it’s softer as you bury your free hand in it. at first, it’s just a gentle caress - just like patting a golden retriever. but then as his tongue lapse over your protruded nub and the pressure in his free hand in your other breast grows more intense, you’re surprised he’s not moaning out in pain from the way your hand’s instinctively grasping at his roots.

“ah!” a yelp escapes you when he leaves your left nipple for the other one, biting down harder than you’re used to but not enough to draw blood.

you’re lost in the pain and pleasure of his tongue and apt fingers, where his mouth isn’t sucking on your nipple, his fingers are pinching and groping it. somewhere in the back of your mind, you distinctively remember a midly pressing matter-

“what the fuck?”

something about a heartbroken best friend and an unclosed door.

"t-taehyung!” you gasp, body almost jolting upward like a criminal caught red handed but seokjin’s arms around your body roots you down in his lap as he slowly pulls down your shirt before turning his attention to his youngest brother.

“taehyung, calm down,” he instructs with ease but his wide-eyed gaze is filled with concern.

“this isn’t-” you begin, slipping away from seokjin’s loosened grasp to pad over to your best friend who looks like he’s seen a ghost or his brother and best friend almost-fucking. either one works, “this isn’t what you think.”

“no-” the younger cups his mouth as he doubles over, his other hand held up in the air as if to tell you to “stay the fuck back-”

“oh, come on,” the slightest brush of your nipples against the material of your carelessly-pulled-down bra makes does not go pass you, yet you put your hand on your hip, rolling your eyes, “don’t be so dramatic.”

and that’s when taehyung hurls his guts out in front of seokjin’s door.

note. ooof

i wasn’t sure if this drabble was gonna gain any eager readers. when i say eager, i mean those who look forward to an update, but some of you showed interest and it warms my heart! so here’s to another update! hope yall enjoyed!

taglist. @aretha170 @scalubera @ambersaesthetics !

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newswcanonprompts · 4 years

Text

Urban magic SW AU

(again, direct quotes)

(also, poster’s note: how would the clones tie into this AU? very interesting. also, i want art for this, that’d be so badass i feel like. unfortunately I can’t draw for shit so... idk i’ll just dream about it. sorry, anyways, BACK TO THIS)

I just read ‘domestic’ as ‘demonic’ and thought this was a very different conversation.

Anakin is a demon obi-wan summoned after fostering a kid because he can't cook.

Imagine being so bad at cooking your first instinct is to summon a demon to do it for you rather than like, buy a cookbook.

“Okay you summoned me what do you want me to do”

“Oh my god please cook, I am taking care of a child who needs protein and is allergic to soy and I haven’t cooked or eaten meat in two decades please help me”

“You know I'm a flexitarian who gets my protein from soy and bugs, right?”

“Oh my god i'm doomed!”

Vader, dark, looming shadow, eyes like molten gold: “wHy dId yOU SUmmON mE?”

Obi-Wan, cursing: “Oh fuck, I, uh, was trying for minor deity of ah, home keeping. uhm. Is your name Anakin? I just need somebody who can cook for my kid.”

Insert Vader's form shifting.

Anakin: “Oh gosh finally somebody who doesn't want blood!”

Obi-Wan: “Do you just have split personalities or something?”

Anakin: “Do you want my life story or do you want me to cook for you?”

Obi-Wan: "Can you multitask?"

A family can be a local demonology professor and alchemist, a witch in the making and technically a prince of hell with a backstory that needs unlocking.

Can this also be a “pretending to be married” au cause I need someone to show up and be like “Obi-Wan who is this nice man?

"This is definitely not a demon uhhhhh. This is, thIS IS MY HUSBAND!!!!!”

anakin: o.O

And Vader would always tease him about it, but sticks around anyway because he doesn’t want to go back to his demon master.

If this is an AU where summoning demons is normal, Obi-Wan would be more embarrassed about his reason for summoning, so he pretends the demon is his husband to hide the fact that he summoned for cooking help.

Maybe his dad Qui-Gon is a professional chef and puts a lot of pressure on him to be a good cook?

I don’t know, maybe not Qui-Gon but having that pressure. RATATOUILLE! VADER IS REMY! BUT VADER IS NOT A RAT BECAUSE WE ARE NOT MAKING A BEE MOVIE EDIT OF THIS!

Obi-Wan: “ Look, my mentor and I already argue over the fact that I chose to abandon divination for alchemy, I do not need him learning of my abysmal cooking!”

Anakin being a wonderful "wife" and just a great person. Then Obi-Wan gets threatened. Tells Obi-Wan to go somewhere and Vader just slaughters the threat.

I'm absolutely imagining the kid Obi-Wan’s taking care of is baby Luke, maybe he was taken from Vader as a baby and Obi-Wan found him? THAT'S gonna introduce some tension between him and Vader!

Anakin, staring at Luke: “Where did you find him?”

Obi-Wan: “On the street somewhere? Why?”

Anakin, preparing to go fight Sidious: “I need to kill a demon.”

WAIT, DOES THIS MAKE BABY LUKE HALF DEMON? How about half-angel instead?

No wonder he needs so much protein! Luke's diet has been all over the place in the past 4 months.

I think it's hilarious if Luke is half demon but stays the ray of sunshine we all know and love. Like yeah you go Luke, break those stereotypes!

Wait, where Padme is this?

Padmé hmm.... how about Vaderkin's previous summoner? And then Sidious Happened™️.

She is the person who summoned Vaderkin for similar reasons to Obi-Wan, then they fell in love, and had Luke (and Leia)

and Sidious happened, but Vaderkin didn't now, and.......

Sidious happened first and turned Anakin who was some,,, idk weird local deity/spirit into Vader and when he escaped:

he met Padmé, a talented magician who tried to fix it and make him Anakin again, which,,,, didn't really work.

It only cut his tie to Sidious so he's not holding the leash anymore.

Other side effects are the creation of Luke & Leia.

Which are basically the residue magic given form, hence them both being half and half.

And Vaderkin sort of disappeared in the whole mess so Padmé, injured but alive, grabbed the kids and ran, later hid Luke with Obi-Wan, Leia with Bail & Breha while now attempting to take down Sidious.

And Padmé thinks anakin actually died in the process.So we can have the whole family AND badass Padmé!

And then Obi-Wan just finds baby!Luke and takes care of him and summons Anakin without knowing that Anakin is Luke's father...

Which would make Padmé checking in on Obi-Wan and Luke a lot more hilarious if Anakin just opens the door.

(Oh boy when Padmé finds out about Obi-Wan's fake marriage to Anakin that's gonna be some CONFUSION!)

Okay okay okay, so Palpatine is the dean of the college Obi-Wan teaches at and has been refusing to give him tenure or a promotion or any good class for like five years.

I really want Anakin to be like a deity until Sidious dragged him down to hell. So Obi-Wan summons Anakin under his original deity name because he wants to cook and is surprised to get a demon.

Obi-Wan: “So you're anakin... and vader?”

Vaderkin: “Yeah”

Obi-Wan, holding a crying toddler and not giving any fucks anymore: “You know what this checks out.”

Anakin was probably some form of God, because Chosen One you know?

I mean this ties in nicely with the origin of his name so like. Make him a God of fate, make him a creation of the universe itself.

Stardust runs in his veins, galaxies are born in his eyes, and all of that.

He was corrupted once Palpatine dug his claws and spilled golden ichor, tainting it the red of mortality, darkening to the unholy black blood of the underworld.

Oh yes!!!! So, the backstory:

He was stolen from his mother by Sidious, made a half-demon, then left and married Padmé, they had Luke and Leia.

Sidious trapped Anakin again and made him a full demon this time through the burning and lots of pain, he thinks he killed Padmé, but she is looking for him and trying to get him back but can't raise the twins

because she's trying to find their father and make him human again,

and he tried to kill Padmé against his will, but she still believes in him.

Jedi are people who use the magic that create the demons and the gods to do good or something.

I mean Obi-Wan's still running around as a mortal.

Someone needs to wrangle these supernatural idiots and he's unfortunately the best person for the job.

If this is urban fantasy then Jedi could be the term for people that use magic

How about we tie this to the Fallen Angel Anakin, and have Anakin who was once a god, but was dragged down by Sidious

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teamhook · 4 years

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Finding Hope :: A CS August Rush AU birthday fic

Hellol! Okay, before I go on. I swear this will be the last WIP I start. I had to. This story is for my favorite dork @hookedonapirate cause I love her to death. She had asked me to write it before but at the time I was writing the Forever My Girl CS AU.

Happy Birthday!! Hope you like your present.

Thanks to my beta @ultraluckycatnd she is the best!!

FFN

AO3

A love for music unites an unlikely pair. The rhapsody they unknowingly created will give life to the hope they still have in their hearts.

Killian Jones and his older brother Liam had arrived from London with nothing more than the clothes on their back to pursue a music career. The lives of the Jones brothers had been difficult since the beginning. Their mother died at a young age and their father had decided he was not made to be a family man.

The Jones brothers had formed The Outlaws with some fellow expatriates they met along the way. The venues they played weren't the best, but they managed to make a name for themselves enough to have steady gigs.

Emma Nolan had grown up with loving parents but after an unfortunate accident, she was left alone. Afterwards, her grandfather took her in. George Spencer was an ill-tempered man. He wasn't a doting person, which caused Emma to become closed off. She focused on solace in the cello. Thankfully, the man valued pomp and grandeur so, at the thought of his granddaughter attending Juilliard, he eagerly made it possible.

On a rare night out with her best friend Elsa, they decide to go to listen to a little-known rock band called The Outlaws they saw fliers for. It was love at first sight. The lead singer mesmerized the young cellist with his voice. The girls waited for the band to finish their set to introduce themselves to them. Elsa and Emma fit in with the band perfectly. The Jones brothers had quickly gravitated towards the blonde beauties.

Emma and Killian had slowly drifted away from the group. It ended up being the most magical night for the young lovers above New York's Washington Square.

Months later, Emma finds out she is pregnant. Somehow, she already loves her kid so much. Her grandfather makes his displeasure known, however, every moment of her pregnancy.

The day her life changed was gloomy and rainy. After an argument with George, Emma had gone to the store to buy some last-minute things for her baby. The drunk driver came out of nowhere. When she gives birth prematurely, her grandfather takes advantage while she is unconscious and gives the baby girl up for adoption. The moment Emma wakes up, she is told the news that her baby is dead. The news shatters her musical dreams and any hope of happiness.

You're not special. You're just like the rest of us... alone, nothing but an orphan.

The music... Can you hear it? Listen... I can hear it everywhere.

It's in the wind ...

in the light...

It's all around us.

All you have to do is open your heart and listen.

Sometimes the world tries to knock the hope out of you.

They tried to stop me from hearing the music...

I believe in music the way others believe in fairy tales. When I'm alone it builds inside me eager to erupt into a melody. I like to believe that what I hear came from my parents. That the music I hear is the same one they heard the night they met...

Maybe that's how they found each other and that's how they'll know I am theirs and find me...

Hope Swan had grown up in foster care. As a baby, she had been adopted but returned once the couple was blessed with their own flesh and blood. After that, she bounced from foster home to foster home.

In her shared room at the group home, she's currently at, Hope records herself humming a song that keeps playing in her mind, but is rudely interrupted by her roommate who mocks her. "You are not special. You're just like us, an unwanted orphan."

The girl walks away, slamming the door.

Hope's eyes water at the mean girl's words. She knows it in her heart that she is wanted and someday she will find her parents. She continues recording her humming of the song in her heart.

Hope is now eleven years old. She stands in the back of the group as one of the younger girls is adopted by a couple. Maybe she should be bitter and want to be adopted but if she was, she would never find her parents. They're out there and she will find them.

Hope runs away once more from her group home. Living on the streets she makes friends easily, but is still guarded. She knows that someday her parents will come looking for her. All she wants is to go home.

As she wanders the streets, runaway Hope Swan is getting closer to find her home. She knows she will find her family. All she has to do is listen to the music in her heart and follow it.

A kind man, Merlin, is assigned Hope Swan's case. She wasn't a trouble maker, but she was reportedly closed off with the couples. He is notified that she has run away. She has a history of running away. The picture of the young girl saddens him. He wishes he can find her and place her in a good home. She is a pretty girl, with blonde hair, vibrant sea-blue eyes, dimples, and a slightly dimpled chin. He posts her picture on the board.

Emma Nolan had moved away after losing her daughter. Her little girl, her grandfather told her the baby was a tiny girl. The heartbreak led her to become a music teacher to kids. She was always surrounded by children and music. That was the way she chose to honor her child. An unexpected call from her grandfather's doctor makes her break a promise she had made to herself years ago. He is the only family she has left.

Once she arrives at his house, she is summoned to his death bed.

His eyes tear up. "I thought you wouldn't come."

"I don't hate you Grandpa, but my heart hasn't healed. Time will never heal this wound," she sniffled.

He closes his watery eyes. "I think I can help with that."

Emma gets closer to his bed, confused. "How can you say that? My child is gone! You didn't want her, so you threw her away while I slept. You took that away from me. I couldn't hold her!"

"Emma, enough!" he screams, then immediately starts coughing from the effort.

"I'm sorry, I made a mistake. I know now that family is precious, that image doesn't matter. Emma, I have a confession. I hope it's not too late and that you will find it in your heart to forgive me."

Emma stares at him.

"She's alive. Your little girl is alive."

"What? How can you be so cruel and say that to me!" Emma says with disbelief and tears pooled in her eyes.

"Because it's the truth. She is alive. I gave her up for adoption, and I was the one who signed the papers. I was your next of kin since you weren't married."

Emma gapes at the old man as she let her limp body drop to the chair next to his bed. "You gave my daughter away as if she was property because I embarrassed you?"

George Spencer can't keep his eyes on his granddaughter. The once-proud man weakened by age and disease casts his eyes down in shame. "In my safe, you will find the documents."

"What good will that do me?" Emma asks.

"Emma, my attorney can help you find her," he says quietly.

"But-"

"Emma, if your parents were here, they would tell you that you should never lose hope," he says.

Emma stands up. "You're right, I'm going to find my daughter."

George sighs as he falls into a deep sleep, his machines flatlining. The nurse that had given them privacy to talk rushes in as soon as the machine goes off.

Emma finds the papers and with trembling hands, calls Mr. Gold, the attorney.

The man is a ruthless slimy bastard. He tries to convince Emma that her kid is better off where she is. Of course, he would say that seeing he had helped her grandfather do this to her; he was just covering his ass. She doesn't care about that. All she wants is to get her kid. She has a daughter and she is out there. She hopes to God that she is being taken care of.

Killian Jones had moved to California not long after The Outlaws broke up. He had given up his dream of singing, but somehow had managed to gain a thriving career as an agent.

He had also distanced himself from the memory of Emma. After the band broke up, his brother and former bandmates had moved to Boston. Killian thought the further away he could get would be better, though. He tried forgetting her, but he knew he could never forget her. It was only one night, but he would belong to her for the rest of time.

Liam had called him a few days prior to ask if he wanted to join them in a reunion of sorts. They were going to play at the little place where he had met Emma. The joint was going out of business so in an effort to raise money to save it, The Outlaws had agreed to come out of retirement for one night only.

Killian had yet to agree, but 'what if' rattled in his brain. Something inside him tugged at his heart. A man unwilling to fight for what he wants gets what he deserves, Liam had told him over and over. He decides he will do it. He will fly to New York and look for Emma. He prays to every deity he can that she is not married. It's a selfish thought, but he couldn't bear it if she isn't meant for him.

Killian picks up the phone and dials his brother's number. "Liam, I'll be there."

"Brother, you'll do it? What happened to never setting foot in New York?" Liam asks.

"Liam, are you going to question my decision? I thought you would be happy," Killian says through gritted teeth.

"I am, I am. I'm just surprised. Killian, this doesn't have anything to do with her, does it?"

"Brother," Killian sighs, "Even if it was, I don't have a way to contact her." Sure he was lying, but his brother didn't have to know all his reasons.

"We are driving out there," Liam says.

"I'll fly. I will text you the details once I've made arrangements," Killian says.

"Alright, see you then," Liam adds. "Brother, it's going to be good seeing you after so long. I miss you."

Killian sighs. "I miss you too."

The line disconnects. Alright Emma Nolan, what have you been up to? he thinks as he enters her name in the browser's search engine. He had thought of looking for her before, but he had never found any sign of her online. He knows her family has money but somehow she has managed to stay hidden. The only information that would come up was of her grandfather's business deals. His heart tells him that this time, though, things would be different.

Sure enough, he finds one headline: "George Spencer dies at home after a long battle with heart disease."

Killian reads the headline carefully and his heart sparks with hope to see Emma again. The newspaper lists her as the sole survivor of her grandfather's Estate. That means she would have to be at his home. He winces at the thought. He knows that his method to approach her while grieving will be considered to be in bad form, but if it is the only chance he has, he has to make the best of the situation. He takes a deep breath and alters his flight plans so he can arrive a couple of days earlier.

Mr. Gold had changed his tune when Emma didn't fall for his manipulations and offered his services. Emma reluctantly accepted his help. He told her to give him a couple of hours and at that time, he would have information to make her search easier. He quickly found out that her daughter had ended up in foster care. He gave her the name of the caseworker assigned to Hope Swan. That was her baby's name. Emma tries to ignore the fact that her daughter is in the care of the state. She wonders what she looks like? Does she take after her or him? Killian Jones, he had never left her thoughts, but before it was painful to think of him because inevitably her thoughts would end on her daughter. Emma smiles, realizing how fitting the name Hope was for their daughter. Emma thanks Mr. Gold and goes to see Merlin Wilde.

Emma arrives at the CPS office. Her nerves are getting the best of her. She approaches the information desk. "Excuse me, I'm looking for Mr. Wilde?"

The woman looks bored. "Do you have an appointment?"

Emma shakes her head. "No, I'm sorry. I must speak to him, though."

The woman rolls her eyes. "Fill out the sign-in sheet. I will see if he can fit you in today." She gets up and heads to a door behind her desk.

Emma is about to sit down when something catches her eye. Pictures of missing kids. Runaways. She gravitates to the board. Her heart is beating so fast as her eyes land on a name, Hope Swan. Emma smiles as she stares at blue eyes that reminded her of the pair that stole her heart all those years back. The sound of someone clearing their throat startles her.

"I'm sorry for startling you, Miss Nolan. I'm Merlin Wilde." He smiles at her as he looks over her sign-in sheet and signals for her to follow him.

"Oh, no it's okay. Yes, I wanted to speak to you in private. My situation is not a common story," Emma says as she follows him to his office.

They enter his office and he kindly motions for her to take a seat.

Emma looks around the office. She tries to get a feel for the man. He seems kind, but looks can be deceiving.

"Miss Nolan, how may I help you? Is there a child in a situation you are concerned about?"

Emma nods. "Mr. Wilde, yes, in fact, that is the reason why I'm here."

"Alright," he starts taking notes. "May I have the child's name?"

"Hope Swan," Emma says. "I'm her mother."

Merlin looks up from his computer. "I'm sorry," he says as he types rapidly on his computer keyboard, before looking up quizzically. "Her case says she is in the care of Mrs. Emerald."

"I'm afraid you misunderstood me. I'm Hope's biological mother." She takes a deep breath. "I was young and unmarried when I got pregnant with her, and my grandfather didn't think having a child was appropriate." Her eyes begin to sting because of the tears. "He took it upon himself to decide that giving my daughter away while I was unconscious because of an accident was the appropriate decision to make. Until recently, I thought Hope was dead. I'm here because I need your help getting my daughter back. I understand she is in foster care, so it shouldn't be a big deal, right?"

Merlin keeps his eyes on her and laughs. "She is a good kid, the people that had fostered her before never had a complaint about her. She loves music and she always hummed a melody to herself. She was just not open to letting them in. It's like she knew she didn't belong there. I'm afraid that has caused her to run away on several occasions. I was just informed she ran away from the last home."

Emma's eyes tear up. "I loved my daughter from the moment I knew she was there. I used to play a song on the cello for her that her father sang the night we met. Until the day I thought I had lost her, I played the same song. I need to find her."

"And we will, Miss Nolan. I have put up fliers all over the city."

Emma nods. "I will look for her myself. I plan on hiring a private investigator. Could I have a picture of her?"

"Of course, Miss Nolan. I will do all in my power to help get your daughter back. I'm going to go looking for her at Washington Square Park. That is a hot spot for runaways. If you would like to join me? We might get lucky," he says as he hands her the picture of Hope from her file.

Emma smiles. "Sure, I will. Thank you for asking."

Hope is sitting on a bench at Washington Square Park and then she hears some music playing. Instantly, she is drawn to it. A boy around her age is playing the guitar. She smiles wide and sits down to enjoy the show. People surround the boy as he plays and they drop change on a baseball cap on the floor. Once he finishes playing, the boy picks up his cap and puts the money in his pocket. He grabs his guitar and thanks the crowd before leaving.

Curious, Hope follows him to an abandoned theatre.

Killian arrives on the first flight of the day. He rents a car and makes his way to the Nolan Estate. He is a nervous wreck. What will Emma think of him showing up unannounced? He hopes she will be happy to see him.

The boy Hope was following introduces himself as Henry. She likes him. He is nice and he promptly explains that all the runaway children live there. They had been taken in by Walsh Oz, the "Wizard". The man provides a roof over their head and food.

"Don't worry, Hope. He will teach you how to perform in street corners to pay for your part. If you're lucky and any good, he will let you use one of the park's spots," Henry says. "When he gets home with food, I will introduce you."

Hope thinks to herself it couldn't be that bad. This way, she won't be picked on for playing music.

Henry smiles fondly at Hope. "So why did you run away?"

Hope smiles back. "I'm going to find my parents. How about you?"

"My adoptive mom didn't love me." He shrugs. "Hope, I know you will find them."

Hope beams. "Thank you, but how can you believe so?"

Henry smiles. "I have a feeling that you will find them and then you will have your happy ending."

The Wizard hadn't always lived in condemned buildings. He once had been a success in his art but lost it due to some scandal years ago, but he could still spot talent. The young girl Henry had brought to him had loads of talent. She had played a song that most of the other kids couldn't play. The girl was magical. She appeared to be a musical genius with savant-like abilities and perfect pitch. He knows he could make a good living off of that girl. He smiles wickedly as the girl plays with his prized guitar, Roxanne. "Well, looks like we found our top earner thanks to Henry," The Wizard says to the group. He pulls Hope to the side. "Alright, you are going to be in my old spot at the park and you will be using Roxanne." He scrutinizes her. "Now what should we call you?"

"My name is Hope," she says.

He walks back and forth contemplating and shaking his head. "I know, I shall call you Odette."

Emma and Merlin arrive at the park. They split up in the hope to cover more ground.

Merlin posts missing posters of Hope on every corner he can; he even hands some to the people walking by.

Emma is walking around the corner when something catches her eye. They have some posters for an upcoming event displaying some talent from Julliard. She smiles wistfully, she misses her music. She takes out her phone to call an old friend. Elsa had ended up at their old school as a teacher.

Somehow her connection is stronger now. She has a sudden need to play. She feels it will help her connect with her daughter.

Tag list:

@rumdrum91 @itsfabianadocarmo @xsajx @hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @sherlockianwhovian @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776 @kday426 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @donteattheappleshook @reggieshamster @lassluna @carpedzem @captainodonoghue @killian-will-do @jarienn972 @tehgreeneyes @demisexualemmaswan @queen-serena88 @swanslieutenant @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @bethacaciakay @ohmakemeahercules @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @mariakov81 @sals86 @elizabeethan @brooke-to-broch @hookedonhiddles @onceratheart18 @the-darkdragonfly @veryverynotgoodwrites @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight

#Captain Swan #cs birthday fic #hookedonapirate #cs ff #CSMM #Captain Swan Movie Marathon #CSMM20

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dudeandduchess · 4 years

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Masquerade: Sanemi x Princess!F!S/O (Mulan AU, SFW/NSFW Scenario)

Summary: (Y/n) was tired of living a sheltered and self-serving life that she knew would only end up with her getting married off to a stranger for peace talks, so before her father could even think of plucking her out of her usual dynamic, she had made a run for it— straight into the last place where he would think to look for her: a military training camp. But that didn’t mean that other people wouldn’t catch her in her own masquerade; most especially a silver-haired captain.

Note: SFW and NSFW scenes will be interspersed, so this will be the warning for the entire story. Also, it says that it’s a Mulan AU, but this is just very loosely based on it. I also said that I’ll drop the entire fic, but this isn’t even done. So I just decided to share this part with y’all. Word Count: 6,335

Warnings: Smut, Adult Themes, Language, Voyeurism, Oral Sex, D/s Themes, Vaginal Sex, Vanilla Sex, Dirty Talk, Creampie, First Time Sex, Vaginal Fingering

***

To say that (Y/n) was tired would be the understatement of the century. At that point, she was ready to pass out on her horse’s back— completely prepared to let her eyes drift shut and allow herself a few minutes, or maybe an hour or so, of well-needed sleep.

Her behind was aching from having had to sit on her horse for so long, and her back was close to screaming in protest without any support to hold it up for the duration of her journey. (Y/n) was so close to just throwing in the towel and accepting her fate: getting married to a total stranger.

Maybe it was delusional of her to think so, but she had always wanted to marry for love; to be with someone whom she knew would care for and cherish her with their entire being. The last thing that she wanted was someone who only thought of her as nothing more than a trophy, and staying at her father’s palace was a sure guarantee of that.

The tunic, as well as the hakama, that she wore did little to ward off the cold— which made her grateful for the extra layer that her chest bindings provided as a barrier from the cold. It made breathing difficult, but it was something that she had to endure, if only to make her ruse more believable.

To add to all of her efforts, she had also taken to cutting her hair so that it fell to her shoulders instead; a well acceptable length for men, without hacking all of her beloved hair off.

On either side of her horse, the armor that she’d haphazardly pilfered from one of her father’s guards clunked together in a muffled cacophony; it provided some respite from the eerily silent night, and (Y/n) couldn’t have been more thankful for that.

She knew that she was close to going crazy, not only because she had been bold enough to run away from home; but also because of the fact that she was headed right towards a place that could very well make or break her plans.

“Oh dear,” She muttered to herself— momentarily stopping her horse right in its tracks, as she surveyed the camp that was nothing more than a small speck in the distance. Her heart began hammering in her chest, making her absolutely breathless as she reached up and laid a hand over it. “You can do this, (Y/n). It’s just until you get sent on a mission.”

For all her pep talk, however, she still felt a crippling sense of dread bubble up inside her; as if it was warning her of all the consequences of her actions.

But there was no turning back at that point. She was sure that everyone in the palace was already looking for her, but all they would find was a letter that said no more than three words to her father.

I’m sorry, father.

Guilt stirred inside her at that, but she pushed it down as soon as it reared its unappealing head; before spurring her horse forward. All the while, she couldn’t help but keep hoping, and praying, for fate to work with her.

***

The moment that she reached the camp, she immediately dismounted her horse and kept a hold of its reigns— gently leading it along, with her grip increasingly getting tighter and tighter, as the fear of someone knocking her to the ground and stealing her only companion played in her mind.

It didn’t help at all that most of the men in the camp looked so ominous and foreboding— especially the ones whom were sharpening their swords with scowls on their faces.

To sum it up, the camp was everything that her nursemaids and escorts had warned her against. The area was clean enough for normal standards, but to her— whom had grown up in the lap of luxury— it was shoddy and filthy. Hell, it made her hairs stand up on end, especially when a sweaty man had brushed against her arm; leaving a really disgusting patch of sweat in his wake.

She almost had to rush over to a private area, all so she could wait out the nausea that took over her entirety.

Immediately, however, she made a face down at her arm— before doing the most unladylike thing, and wiping her forearm against the back of her tunic. “You can do this, (Y/n). You can do this.”

She kept repeating the mantra in her head, even though a tiny voice inside her kept telling her to give up and go home. But, with a hefty sigh, she reached into the rucksack attached to her horse’s left side, and pulled out the scroll— wishing to high heaven that there was a concierge at the camp to help her get settled in, or maybe even a welcoming committee to guide her to where she needed to go.

But, alas, it was a military camp. So she had no choice but to rough it. After all, she was the one whom had chosen to forsake her old life in the first place.

“U-um!” (Y/n) cleared her throat then, putting in the effort to make her voice sound a few octaves deeper, as she raced over to one of the uniformed soldiers walking within the camp.

Awkwardly, she bowed down— forcing herself to let go of years of etiquette lessons and royal protocol— as she bent down lightly at the waist. Thankfully, her internal dilemma at possibly being found out all because she wasn’t used to bowing didn’t show on the outside. In fact, the soldier seemed to puff his chest out in pride.

(Y/n) couldn’t help but internally curl her upper lip at the man’s concealed arrogance, knowing full well that he would be in a dogeza if he only knew who she really was. However, that was only if he knew her real identity; and she had no intention of outing herself so soon— or at all, really.

So, she swallowed her pride and held out her summons scroll; waiting with tense anticipation if the man would even know that she had taken it from one of the numerous summons scrolls in her father’s war counsel room.

She didn’t even know whom the scroll was for, and she sincerely regretted not even taking a look at it before she entered the camp.

“Miyuki?” The soldier spoke in a questioning tone, making her think for a moment before realizing that he had been pertaining to the name on the parchment.

“Yes. Miyuki… Yuki.” (Y/n) wanted to hit herself for coming up with the most obviously fake name in the world, but it was too late for regret— as even the soldier quirked his eyebrow at that, chuckling under his breath before handing the scroll back to her.

“You belong with the other new recruits. Go to the supplies shed at the edge of camp and ask for your provisions.” With one last snarky smirk, the man tipped his head at her, before going on with his day.

And (Y/n) could only watch with narrowed eyes, as the man sauntered away from her— wishing to all the deities to give her the patience to deal with blatantly being dismissed like that.

She had to have the patience for it, if she wanted to last more than a week at the camp.

So, with pursed lips, she set out to go to the supplies shed— all so she could get started on starting her life as a soldier.

It took hours, and a lot of quiet snickers from the other men in the camp, but she had managed to finally pitch her tent up. Though, she had to tie one end up on a small tree; just so it would stay up.

Her days with her etiquette teachers could have been considered a walk in the park, compared to having to rough it out on her own. She had even missed dinner, all because she hadn’t known that the evening bell had been a signal for meal time. So, she had made do with the bread that had hardened considerably during her day-long ride to the camp.

And so, after dining on her scrumptious piece of bread, she had deigned to get ready for bed— only to look down at herself and finally notice how filthy she was. Her tunic had been smeared with dirt, and her arms were also blotched with patches of soil here and there— which had her curling her upper lip in disgust.

She couldn’t very well sleep in her current state, but she also hadn’t seen any enclosed baths or bathhouses for the common foot soldiers. The fact that she wouldn’t be able to wash herself made her heart sink, until she remembered seeing an unattended bathhouse right by the supply shed.

The sign outside said that it was only for the captain’s use, but she figured that it was already way too late for him to take a bath— and all the other soldiers would have already been asleep. So, with a half-cocked plan in mind, (Y/n) crept out of her tent with a fresh set of clothes and shushed her horse, before sneaking over to get her much-needed bath.

***

Sanemi sighed, clearly exasperated at having had to deal with the councilman that had been assigned to him. The man was an absolute piece of work, as he recorded everything that Sanemi had said and done all day— down to his sighs and irritated scoffs. And, to top it all off, he had complained non-stop about the lack of amenities within the camp.

Which was why Sanemi was more than thankful for the silence that wrapped around the camp, as he made his way over to his private bath house.

“Fucking idiots,” The captain grumbled under his breath, needing some sort of release as he felt the tension weigh down on his shoulders even more. He was so stressed out about the oncoming war, and the time-pressure that had been added to his plate.

The Shogun wanted a fully functional army by the end of three months, but he had seen the men that had been sent to him— and all of them were no more than boys with the bodies of men.

He shook his head at that, clearing his thoughts for the moment, as she stepped up to the well-lit bath house; making him do a double take when he noticed that the lantern inside was on— which it shouldn’t have been.

Unless someone was blatantly disobeying camp rules and was trespassing in there.

Slowly, he crept up to the entrance of the bath house, making sure to keep his movements quiet as he slid the door open— quickly sliding into the sizeable room, and setting his things down on a wicker table by the door.

He could hear the sound of water sloshing around inside the main bath area— right where the onsen was— and he quickly tiptoed towards the entryway for it, peeking through the slightly parted shoji to see who had even dared to use his property; or property that had been made for his exclusive use, rather.

Only, instead of seeing one of the men in the camp, his eyes widened as he took in a woman’s tempting figure in the night. She stood by the lip of the onsen, testing the water’s temperature by dipping her toes into the pool, before letting out such a pleasured sigh that went straight to Sanemi’s cock.

Lilac-colored eyes traced over every patch of skin that was bared to him, lingering on her breasts, before going down to her thighs, and then flickering over to her pretty cunt that was nestled between her thighs.

“Fuck,” The captain whispered, licking his lips and swallowing thickly— his gaze never leaving the woman, even as she stepped into the steaming water. Deliberately, he palmed his slowly hardening cock through his pants— squeezing lightly, in a subtle attempt for a taste of pleasure.

A soft groan left his lips at that, moving his fingers to squeeze his balls as the woman sidled closer to where he was standing by the door. Only, his breath got caught in his throat for an entirely different reason, when the light from one of the lanterns illuminated her features.

There was no mistaking that face, even if it was bare from all of the make-up, and was not being framed by the artfully feminine hairstyles that he’d always seen her don in the palace. He had gazed upon that face so many times before, that he was willing to bet his rank and title that he had been looking right at (L/n) (Y/n), the daughter of the Shogun.

Sanemi’s cock got even harder at that; remembering the way that she had gracefully sashayed into the dining area— after a war council meeting had been held at the Shogun’s palace. His fascination with her had started then, but he’d never let it grow more than that.

But, given the chance that he’d had at that moment, he couldn’t help but give in to his baser urges and keep palming his cock through his pants; massaging his balls and rubbing the heel of his palm against his length.

A quiet groan left his lips at the action, as his eyes threatened to flutter shut at the pleasurable sensation. Still, he forced himself to keep his eyes trained on her, watching her every move as she scooped some water up in her hands, and let it flow down her neck and chest.

Sanemi was so tempted to pull his cock out and keep stroking himself to the view that she made, but he knew that he shouldn’t cross that line— not with her. He wanted her in his bed, not as mere fuel for his lust.

And so, he let go of his erection at that— taking a deep breath to center himself once more, before sliding the shoji open. His eyes were narrowed at her, watching as her expression morphed into blatant shock, before turning into mortification.

It even took her a few seconds to cross her arms over her chest, as her brain could play nothing but the possible punishments that was going to be handed down to her— all because she couldn’t take not bathing for a day.

Only a few hours had passed since she’d entered the camp, yet she knew that she’d already gotten caught— by the captain, no less.

What made things infinitely worse, however, was the shine of recognition in his eyes; even in the dark night, she could pick out the familiarity in his look.

He knew who she was, and it was too late to dissuade him from his assumptions.

“State your name and business,” Sanemi stated with a coy smirk, being formal even though he knew that he had her cornered. She couldn’t possibly begin to explain why she was bathing in the Captain’s bath house at that hour, let alone explain the fact that she was a woman in an all-man camp.

Or even begin to explain what the daughter of the Shogun was doing so far away from home.

“I…” (Y/n) bit down on her bottom lip, trying to think of a good out to the situation, but all that she could focus on was how she was going to be sent back home if she didn’t think of something fast. Her own thoughts did nothing to help her; in fact, they only burdened her even more by making her panic.

Sanemi scoffed at that, not even holding back the smirk that widened across his lips as he lifted a hand up and crooked a finger at her— beckoning her to come over to where he was. “Now.”

(Y/n) felt as if she had been doused with ice cold water then, despite the warm water still enveloping her from below her breasts to her feet. She couldn’t will her legs to move the barest inch, so she was stuck standing in place with her eyes trained on the silver-haired captain.

“Tsk,” Sanemi clicked his tongue in mild irritation when she didn’t move. And, at the evidence of his annoyance, the young woman finally started moving— gingerly lifting herself out of the onsen, and baring her body once more to Sanemi’s hungry eyes.

He fully expected her to walk over to him meekly, with her head bowed and her arms wrapped around her to allow her what modesty she had left; but she did the exact opposite. Instead of bowing her head in shame, she lifted her head— as if she were about to attend a formal ceremony, instead of walking naked towards a military officer.

Despite her bravado however, her eyes still showed uncertainty and fear of the consequences.

When she was a few feet away from Sanemi, he quirked an eyebrow at her; briefly letting his gaze linger on her tempting lips, before going back up to her eyes. “Tell me, princess, what’s a woman like you doing out here?”

He wasn’t dumb; he knew full well what one of her possible reasons for being there was. He’d seen it enough with other noble women, much like herself.

She wanted to break free of the chains that held her down. And the only solution to that was either to perish, or to run away.

Instead of replying, however, (Y/n) remained silent— even going as far as to turn her gaze right on him, and deliberately look away; as if she had just dismissed him.

But Sanemi was having none of her attitude.

He closed the distance between them, taking hold of her face by her chin, and turning her full attention on him. “I asked you a question, Ohime-sama.”

(Y/n)’s teeth gritted at the backhandedly delivered term, as she tried to get herself away from his grip— to no avail. “If you’re going to send me back to my father, do it now. And do it silently.”

Another scoff left Sanemi’s lips at that, as he leaned closer to her face— as a way to intimidate her. “You’re not really in a position to order me around.”

“Then tell me what your condition is.”

A grin tugged up at the corners of Sanemi’s lips at that, his cock twitching within the confines of his pants as he imagined the topmost things that he wanted to do to her. “You, on your knees… with my cock in your mouth. And you with your legs spread for me, warming my bed every night.”

The princess’ eyes widened at that, as she had never been spoken to in such an uncouth manner before— yet, she couldn’t deny that his filthy words made her feel much hotter than was appropriate.

“I’ll keep your secret, and even take care of you while you’re here, if you do those things for me.” Sanemi wasn’t even sure why he was propositioning the Shogun’s daughter— of all people— but looking at her made him so needy for her touch that it wasn’t funny.

If he were to be honest, he would say that she was the only person that he’d been attracted to in a long time. But he couldn’t let her know that, on the off-chance that she turned the tables on him.

(Y/n) had never been with a man before, let alone kissed one, but she had eavesdropped on her own escorts and lady’s maids to know about the nitty gritty details that sex entailed, so it wasn’t as if she was jaded about it. In fact, she had long since wanted to try it— but no man would ever have the courage to bed her out of marriage, so she had let the notion go.

As she let her gaze flicker over the Captain once more— memorizing his sharp features, and admiring the rugged handsomeness he possessed— she found herself wanting to agree to his conditions. It was going to be a mutually beneficial arrangement, if she was sure that he was going to hold up his end of the deal.

And he really wasn’t that bad to look at, so it added to the lure of saying yes.

“If you don’t hold up your end of the deal, I swear to make your life hell the moment I get back to the palace,” (Y/n) threatened coolly, completely bluffing as she knew that she would most likely be kept in a secluded guest villa for the rest of her years, if she were to ever return home.

Still, for her bold-faced lie, she seemed pretty convincing— judging by the way that the Captain’s lips turned down into a brief scowl. His grip on her chin tightened at that, and he leaned forward to close the gap between them— finally giving in to the temptation to taste her lips. “Sealed with a kiss, Ohime-sama. Now, get down on your knees.”

Deciding to just follow his words, instead of even trying to spite him with her brattiness, (Y/n) lifted her hands up to the man’s chest— dragging them down his body as she sank down on her knees in front of him. “Bold words for a man who hasn’t even introduced himself.”

Her snarky words grated on Sanemi’s nerves, but he swallowed back his ire and simply watched her as she unfastened his pants— pulling the garment down and freeing his erection from his underwear, as well. His cock immediately sprung up in front of her, making her eyes slightly widen as she took in just how thick and long he was. “Shinazugawa Sanemi. You’d do best to remember that-”

Sanemi was cut off, however, when (Y/n) encircled his length with an uncertain hand; all before boldly licking at the head of his cock. She was going by pure instinct, and praying all the while that what she was doing was pleasurable. But, by the way that Sanemi sighed heavily and placed a hand on the back of her head, she construed that she was doing it right.

And when she wrapped her mouth around him, it took everything inside the Captain to not shove his cock down her throat. His fingers curled within her hair— gripping the strands tightly, as he gently rocked his hips into her hot mouth.

If he wasn’t mistaken, she had lived a sheltered life— hence being inexperienced in sex. So, he had to be patient and indulgent with her; teach her how things worked, lest he wanted their deal to fall through with his aggressiveness.

And so, with a much gentler grip on her hair, Sanemi tilted her face up so that their eyes could meet. It was shameful because the sight of her on her knees— with his cock in her mouth, and her eyes looking directly up at him— almost had him cumming on the spot. “S-slowly, lick up the underside of my cock and take it in at your pace.”

It was going to be a lot of work, but it wasn’t as if he wasn’t going to have fun molding her to his personal taste.

***

Apparently, the promise that Sanemi had made her about ‘taking care of her’ didn’t entail any special treatment during training. He was ruthless with her, especially when it came to hand-to-hand combat; and it didn’t help that most of the men around her thought that she was a weakling for always being the one to fall behind.

Especially that time when they were running drills up in the mountains. No one had said anything in Sanemi’s presence but, once he’d left, all of the whispers began about her being the weak link— even having the audacity to have disappeared for so long, and being a burden on Captain Shinazugawa overall.

She couldn’t very well tell them that Sanemi had dragged her off to a secluded alcove right by the trail, all so he could get his cock sucked.

Hell, she couldn’t even tell them the truth that he had long discovered that she wasn’t whom she said she was, and that the reason why she was still at the camp was all due to the fact that she was warming Sanemi’s bed at night— at least, to an extent.

If she said that, it was a sure way to get her sent back to the palace— and also a guaranteed way to get Sanemi stripped of his rank.

For all of his faults, however, (Y/n) had to give it to him: he was an absolute gentleman—not in the way he handled her when he wanted a blowjob, or wanted to eat her out, but in the way that he didn’t push her past what she was comfortable with.

Two weeks had already passed since that night in the bath house, yet he hadn’t pushed her past oral sex. And when things got too heated between them, he always settled for cumming in her mouth or on her pussy. He had never taken his cock and made good on one of his promises to fuck her good as— according to the Captain himself— she wasn’t ready yet.

Because, despite (Y/n) bravado and curiosity winning out that night, there were still times when she felt so lost within herself— always second-guessing whether she was really doing the right thing, if only for the briefest second.

And Sanemi always picked up on that momentary hesitation; no matter how quickly the uncertainty flickered in her eyes.

With a heavy sigh, (Y/n) poked her head out from her tent, checking if the coast was clear before sneaking out. Her footsteps had gotten much lighter since the start of training— much lighter than it ever was when she was living at the palace— and it really helped her travel from her own tent to Sanemi’s at night.

“Oi, Miyuki!” Her eyes widened at her fake name being called out and, with an uneasy grin on her lips, she turned around and awkwardly waved at one of her squad mates.

If she remembered correctly, his name was Kamado Tanjirō. And the two other men who were always with him were Agatsuma and Hashibira. They were the only three who didn’t give her hell at the camp, so she tried to be nice to them— as much as possible.

“Where are you going off to at this hour?” Tanjirō asked with that characteristically sweet smile on his face, making (Y/n)’s stomach twist with guilt at having to lie to someone so pure hearted.

“I… the Captain… wanted to see me,” She answered awkwardly, tacking her words off with a grimace that she hoped was convincing enough for him not to ask anything more. And, technically, it wasn’t a lie: Sanemi did want to see her, not just for official reasons.

She could feel her pussy get wet at the images that flickered in her mind; all of them with her in varying degrees of pleasure, with either Sanemi’s hands or mouth on her body.

And before Tanjirō could say anything to that, she already excused herself and hightailed it out of there— making a direct bee line for Sanemi’s tent, all while praying that no one other than that one person had seen her out and about.

“You’re late.” Sanemi clicked his tongue in irritation, yet pulled the covers back for his futon— which had been set on wooden slats, to keep him as comfortable as humanly possible.

He had initially wanted to refuse the luxury, since his men slept on much thinner futons placed on the ground, but had to rethink his decision ever since the arrangement with (Y/n) had been made.

Gingerly, the young woman tied the flaps of the tent together, even going for double knots— as if that would keep them from being discovered.

When she was done closing the sizeable tent up, she then turned to face her lover— licking her suddenly dry lips when she saw his bare chest on full display for her. In turn, Sanemi patted the empty space beside him— beckoning her to join him in his bed.

And she didn’t even hesitate, at all. She slipped her tunic off, folding it neatly and setting it on a nearby chair. It was then followed by her pants and underwear— also folded and set aside neatly. Then came her chest bindings.

Sanemi watched her with apt focus; his gaze getting hotter and hotter with every inch of skin she bared to him. And, beneath the blanket, he felt himself get hard.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long, as (Y/n) climbed in beside him after turning the lamp off— assuming her usual position, as he spooned her; wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back flush against his scarred chest.

There was nothing but silence between them at that point, save for their soft breaths filling the tent. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, and it wasn’t the most innocent of silences, either— especially as Sanemi began pressing kisses against the back of (Y/n)’s head, allowing himself to dip his head low so he could pepper kisses along her right shoulder and up the side of her neck.

All the while, his right hand drifted down to her hip; massaging her flesh tenderly, as he pressed his warm erection against her ass. “You smell so tempting. Did you take another bath?”

(Y/n) could only nod, since a breathless gasp had escaped her lips before she could speak— all because her lover had snaked his fingers down to her pussy, running his index finger up her slit and collecting her wetness at the pad of it, before circling her clit with it.

“Next time, we should take one together.”

She opened her mouth to answer, only to be cut off once more when Sanemi pinched her clit between his thumb and index finger— making her hips jerk involuntarily against him.

With that, the Captain dragged his fingers down to her entrance— rubbing the sopping hole with the pad of his middle finger— before slipping it inside to the first knuckle. “Tonight, I’m going to slip my cock inside this tight pussy of yours, and I’m going to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Instead of alarming (Y/n), however, Sanemi’s words only made her walls clench down on his finger— or what little there was of it inside her— as she got even wetter than before.

“Do you want that?”

She surprised even herself with how sure and needy she sounded, “Yes. Please, Sanemi.”

It took everything in the young man to not grab his dick and slip it inside her at that moment— as it twitched where it was pressed flush between her ass cheeks. Still, no matter how much he deemed her mentally ready, she still wasn’t wet enough to receive him.

So, with a renewed sense of vigor, the Captain his middle finger deeper inside her— hissing at how tight her walls clenched around the single digit. Slowly, he thrusted his finger inside her— being gentle enough with her, as he knew that it was her first time.

For the most part, (Y/n) was quiet save for her soft sighs and mewls, especially when Sanemi curled his finger up against a spot inside her that had her legs quivering in pleasure.

She thought that that feeling was already heavenly enough, but when her lover’s other hand joined in the foray— toying with her clit so expertly— she was reduced to nothing more than a breathless and quivering mass against him; not even trying to fight back the orgasm that she knew would hit at any given moment.

It wasn’t until Sanemi added another finger and began flicking her clit at a rapid pace that she finally succumbed to her own pleasure— biting down hard on her bottom lip to keep herself as quiet as she could.

Her chest was heaving as she came down from her high, absolute putty in his hands as he pulled his finger out from her cunt and put it up to his mouth— sucking the digit clean before pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot behind her ear. “Delicious.”

It was such a tender gesture that it threw (Y/n) for a loop, confusing her enough to lose momentary focus of her surroundings; and the next thing she knew, Sanemi was already hovering above her— caging her in between his arms, with his hips cradled between her thighs.

“Hold on tight, princess, and don’t make a sound— unless you want the whole camp to know who’s fucking you,” He whispered against her lips, dropping a languid peck against it, before reaching a hand down to grip his cock— all so he could align the tip to her entrance, collecting her wetness on his cockhead and teasingly dipping it inside.

(Y/n) nodded her assent, even wrapping her arms around her lover’s neck and digging her fingers into the taut muscles on his back. Then slowly, Sanemi pushed himself inside her— his attention solely on her, as he didn’t want to hurt her.

At the first sign that she didn’t want to do it, he was going to back off and settle for a blowjob— even though the more that he pushed inside, the more euphoric he felt as her walls clamped down around him.

If (Y/n) were to be honest, she would say that she was nervous as hell; not because she wasn’t sure if Sanemi was just going to ram his cock inside her, but because of all the stories that she’d heard about how painful it was. But, as she laid there, with her arms around him, all she felt was a sting— at most. It wasn’t a splitting pain like everyone had said it would be.

She wasn’t in agony, but it was a little uncomfortable.

And by the time that Sanemi was fully sheathed inside her, she felt so full that even the slightest movement had her mewling in a mix of discomfort and pleasure. Then slowly, the Captain pulled his cock out of her— only to slide it back in, in the same gentle manner as before.

It went on like that for a few minutes, with Sanemi letting (Y/n) get used to the new sensations, until she leaned up slightly and whispered into his ear, “I need more, Sanemi. Please fuck me.”

Sanemi didn’t need to be told twice after that, as he slowly picked up the pace— relishing in the feel of his lover’s cunt practically pulling him back inside with how tight and wet she was.

The arm that was holding him up was starting to shake with the weight he put on it, yet he paid it no mind as he reached down and began toying with (Y/n)’s clit once more; trying to bring her to orgasm, as he knew that he was close to cumming— what with how long he had anticipated the moment he could finally fuck her.

It was shameful to not have even lasted his usual twenty minutes before cumming, but Sanemi really couldn’t help the pleasurable feeling that consumed him from the inside— starting at the bottom of his spine and gradually getting hotter and tighter. His balls, all heavy with his cum, kept slapping against her ass— adding to the sounds of their heavy breathing as well as (Y/n)’s soft gasps that filled the tent.

“I… I’m cumming, Sanemi,” The princess whispered, screwing her eyes shut and digging her nails into her lover’s back— raking them down the closer she got to the precipice of her own orgasm.

Her legs began to quiver once more, yet Sanemi was relentless with his thrusts. He didn’t let her have some reprieve, between angling his hips to hit a certain spot inside her that had her cursing under her breath everytime, to continuously playing with her clit— it was a sensory overload for (Y/n).

A highly pleasurable one that had her almost screaming and waking the entire camp, had Sanemi not slammed his lips against her at the last second; effectively shutting her up as he snaked his tongue into her mouth.

He felt her walls clamp down around him then, as if her pussy was trying to milk his cock for all it was worth. It didn’t help that the sensation of her nails digging into his back added to his pleasure; so, with one last thrust, he buried himself in her to the hilt— painting her walls with his warm and thick cum.

Both of them stayed like that for a few heartbeats, just languidly exchanging kisses as both of them climbed down from their highs— still closely entwined, with Sanemi’s cock nestled inside (Y/n)’s tight cunt.

“I want you again,” The captain whispered— a little winded from what they’d done a few minutes before, but still needy to feel more.

#shinazugawa sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa #shinaguzawa sanemi #kny sanemi #demon slayer sanemi #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer fanfiction #kny fanfiction #kny fanfic #jen writes #mulan au

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westerhos · 4 years

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Our Story: Chapter One

Life has been running a mile a minute and I feel like it’s been a century since I’ve contributed to ~Outlander fandom/fic discourse~. So! To get back into the swing of things, I’m going to re-post an old AU of mine: Our Story (shout out to @gotham-ruaidh for giving me the courage).

I’ve chosen this one because A) I’m proud of it; it’s the only multi-chapter fic I’ve ever finished, but also B) it’s basically a timeline of my first year in NYC, which will (maybe?) make for some interesting commentary. I’ll post a chapter every other day and include my self-indulgent author notes at the bottom (songs, anecdotes, whatever dumb shit I come up with).

Yes, you can read the entire fic on Ao3 . . . but what’s the fun in that? ;)

Chapter 1

[December 24th, 1989]

It is the beginning of their story, the first time Jamie sees her. The dividing line between 'what was' and 'what would be.' The setting is a Christmas party: an Edinburgh flat, roaring on the cusp of a new decade. Champagne bubbles float in flutes and greetings.

The players are just two university students, dancing across a stage of shaggy green carpet. Garlands of tinsel trip their feet.

And the opening scene? Well. It goes something like this:

She is wearing a holiday sweater, a confection of silver bells and sequined penguins. It is the hard-won earnings of an hour’s wade through mothballs, she says, of a knee-deep dive in a charity shop bargain bin. All of this she relays to Jamie with a smirk, a precocious, all-knowing smile that he will come to know so well.

The lights dim, and her eyes flicker. Lit coals in the flat’s half-dark. She smells of fresh rain, of flowers just beginning to open, and the scent forms a sweet, perceptible weight in the air. It settles on him, around him, when she leans forward, straining to hear his stuttered—

“Hello,” Jamie says, or tries to. He forgets his vowels and it comes as, “Hlllll?”

“Sorry, what was that?”

Claire starts when his hand takes hers, crunches it firmly inside his palm. For Claire, this moment will never lose its clarity, and in the years that follow she will argue that this is where their story begins: nestled in the slight curl of Jamie’s lips; his voice, as smooth as the whisky he offers to pour her; another ugly sweater, this one boasting a lager-stained Santa and a hem of unraveling wool. The red string hangs there for her to tug and close the gulf between them, and she does. Twenty one (him) and twenty two (her) years of strangerhood reduced to nothing—and then, so suddenly, transformed into knowing.

They make small talk in the corner, mentioning the weather (“seasonably cold”) and her biology exam (“after break”). Eventually Claire asks, “Do you know anyone here?”, and bracketed inside this question is her secret hope that he does not. She wants to believe that Jamie is on her side, that it is only the two of them (it has only ever been the two of them) against the world. She is so used to feeling alone in crowds—but here! Oh, but here in the rainbow glow of tree lights, she feels a part of Something. She holds onto it, wishing her hand was as big as his so that his curling lips and his whisky voice would never seep through her fingers.

“Dinna ken anyone,” Jamie confirms, “though I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.”

He inclines his head towards the mass of bodies, all gyrating in a singular, chaotic wave. Music plays in the background, oppressive and electronic, as a third year belts Bowie between tokes. Jamie lets it fade away, forgets it all—the noise, how to blink, how to breathe. Forgets everything except her.

Claire wrinkles her nose.

“The problem with these people is that they think they’re interesting.” She is yelling into his ear but even so, it seems strangely intimate. Every word exchanged is a secret between them, one they tuck inside their pockets, will place under their pillows when they lay their heads to sleep. “But they aren’t. Not even remotely!”

“Weel, fortunately you’ve met me now.”

“Mmm. But are you truly interesting or only remotely?”

“That’s for you to decide, lass. You being the expert on such things.”

Claire grins at the floor. “You haven’t even told me your name, y’know.”

“James Fraser,” he says, all too quickly, and he’s unreasonably embarrassed. James, he thinks. How many ‘James’ were in this very room, wearing equally hideous and soiled sweaters? How many ‘James’ had she met in Scotland? Would she even remember him, one of 337 (to be precise), after this night? (She would, of course. During her biology exam, she will think of James Fraser and leave fifteen questions blank. She will get a C—a grade as average as his name.)

“But you can call me Jamie,” he adds over the roar.

“I’m Claire Beauchamp. Just plain Claire Beauchamp!”

And Jamie laughs—a beautiful laugh, the best laugh, a laugh Claire will spend the rest of her life wanting to hear (she will have to work harder on certain days).

“If I call ye anything, it’ll be ‘Sassenach’. Whereabouts in England are ye from?”

And Claire smiles—a beautiful smile, the best smile, a smile Jamie will spend the rest of his life trying to earn (finding success and failure in turns).

“Oxford by birth,” Claire says. “But from nowhere, really.”

She pauses, hearing the third-year shout, “Bowie, man! Greatest artist of all time!” and swears the kid is wrong. It’s God who was the greatest artist, and this six-foot deity with his lager-stained knit was his chef d’ouevre.

“Do you want to make this night interesting, Jamie?”

“Remotely interesting?”

“More than remotely.”

“That depends. What d’ye have in mind?”

Claire reaches for his hand, and he gives it to her. Jamie squeezes; she squeezes back. She leads him through the throng. He follows, licking his lips and at her heels.

(Who knew it could ever be this easy? Falling in love.)

Note: I started this fic with a variation of the last line (“Who knew how easy it was to fall in love?”) and worked my way backwards. I only had a vague idea of what I wanted to write: a cross between Lauren Groff’s Fates and Furies, David Nicholls’ One Day, and the movie Blue Jay. Ah, ambition! I ultimately veered away from the last one, but leaned very heavily on Fates and Furies (more on that later) and stuck to One Day’s idea of tracking a relationship over the course of multiple decades. I thought I could do this in a couple of chapters, but after I wrote this opener—in the middle of the night; anxious as fuck because I was a one week away from moving to New York (also more on that later)—I chucked my original five-chapter outline. Still had no idea where I was going with it though.

In retrospect, I like this chapter as a whole, although I realize Jamie/Claire sound like pretentious snobs (the result of my Fates and Furies obsession!) and wish I carried the red string image throughout the rest of the story.

#outlander #claire fraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #myfic

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britishassistant · 4 years

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The Villainous Paranoiac Goes To Jail and Ninja Afterlife

Two innocent children get sent to Night Raven College

A set of scenarios about three of my ocs unwittingly trading places for two days, non-canon to any of my AUs

Swap 1:

Yuu—> Konohagakure

Yuu wakes up with a tantō to the throat.

Chie: Tell me where my daughter is and I’ll make your death quick

Yuu promptly freaks the fuck out

Through a combination of panicked yelling and tears the Prefect manages to convey to the Ketsugi that if there was a kidnapping, Yuu is both uninvolved and as much as of a victim as their precious daughter

Gai confirms that the strange teenager not only has no chakra, but clearly has little to no combat training despite his(?) athleticism, meaning Mayu-chan could easily overpower an assailant of this size, especially one this undernourished!

Yuu tries not to be offended and to avoid staring at Gai and Lee’s eyebrows they’re so big

Promptly shrieks when Kami!Sanji materializes to confirm that the Paranoiac had nothing to do with Mayu’s disappearance as far as the other gods can tell

Yuu becomes convinced that this place is the afterlife

The sad part is that Chie and Jirou can’t actually say much to the contrary, because??? Their daughter remembers dying before she came here?? Also there are active deities just floating around so.

Actually tears up at the homemade meals the Ketsugi provide

Before being sick as a dog later because food infused with chakra? Does not agree with a person without a chakra regulatory system

Surprisingly patient with Lee and any questions he has the purity of Jack and Deuce is strong in this one

Bit more long-suffering towards Naruto and his rendition of Wonderwall. Sunshine child too bright, introvert Yuu can’t handle it

Keeps writing down everything everyone says

This makes ANBU and ROOT very twitchy

The Paranoiac is quietly slated for “interview” at T&I the next day

Yuu crashes on the Ketsugi couch none the wiser

Mayu—> Nanba

Mayu wakes up to confused screaming and profanity.

It’s Hani.

It’s very rare for screaming not to be because of Hani

All he knows is one child was in this bed last night, and now’s there’s a different one dressed like it came straight out of Ninja Kamikaze???

Mayu for her part is both very alarmed to be waking up in a prison cell with two strange men and very glad she has her bokken with her

Kiji comes in to find his beautiful inmates being menaced by a twelve year old with a wooden sword

The twelve year old is winning

Once Mayu has ascertained that they aren’t enemy ninja and she’s somehow in her old world (?) she becomes much more cooperative with the guards

She’s very worried about how she’s going to get back to her family in Konoha

Also wondering if she should try to contact her former little brother Harp (who knows if she’ll ever get the chance again?)

These worries are not assuaged when the Warden informs her that there’s no records proving “Tamara Kaur” ever existed

For lack of any relations who they can contact to take the child off their hands, and because they have no idea how she successfully infiltrated the most secure prison in the world and replaced one of the inmates, the Warden decides to keep Mayu in Nanba’s holding cells until further notice

Guess who finds the samurai child while breaking out?

Nico, Uno, and Rock are amazed at the existence of a real live Japanese Samurai! With a katana and everything!!

Jyugo just asks straight out if Mayu’s an actor too

Mayu is very bemused by everything, but they seem friendly! The one with the mohawk likes food too!

Plus the blonde one is British! Just like she used to be!

Uno is very confused about how a twelve year old somehow lost her citizenship

Break Mayu out to get food together

They get caught the moment they set foot in the cafeteria and scolded very harshly

Mayu has trouble sleeping in a cell cot that night

Nana—> Night Raven College

Nana’s first instinct on waking up in a strange bed next to a monster is to assume he’s been kidnapped and attempt to subdue his captors

Which means Grim wakes up to an attempted smothering

The ghosts hear muffled screaming and rush in only to get salt and iron filings to the face. Nana actually has them all on the run when Crowley bursts in

Instantly becomes a confused and lost child in front of the headmaster and dorm heads

Only Grim and the ghosts know the truth, and their complaints are overlooked due to them “scaring the poor boy”

No one has any idea what to do with a thirteen year old magicless kid. It was hard enough with Yuu, and the Prefect was at least sixteen and could attend classes!

Nana adapts quickly to the idea of being in this new world— he’s just sad he couldn’t say goodbye to Kiji, Hani-senpai and Trois-senpai before leaving Nanba

Immediately resolves to leave NRC at the earliest possible convenience when he gets a good look at the Theory Wall— he can’t even read Japanese but that amount of crazy that it signifies always spells trouble

Is confused by all the pictures of Disney villains on the Theory Wall, but decides it’s not worth the trouble to ask about

Actually uses the beauty products Vil left for Yuu correctly

Gets semi-adopted into Pomefiore after asking Vil where the high quality products came from

Grim and the ghosts aren’t sorry to see the little brat go

Vil carts him around to test his potential in the performance arts

Epel tries to be a good senpai for the kid, and tells him he doesn’t have to just go along with Vil

Nana appreciates the effort, but does find this kind of thing more fun than being on his own he’s homesick for his cell

Rook enjoys seeing the child freeze up minutely whenever he asks about the prison attire and the large “7” tattoo on the back of the boy’s head

Nana likes Rook less and less with every pointed question the vice dorm leader makes

Can’t sleep in the big cushy Pomefiore bed and so curls up on the floor with a pillow instead

Swap 2:

Yuu—> Nanba

What why is Yuu in jail now

The prefect was supposed to be back home/in Ramshackle Dorm, why is Yuu in jail now—

Yuu is stressed and overdue for Grim snuggles

Paranoiac is also not thrilled about being stuck in Building Three— it’s like Pomefiore on steroids

At least Epel and Vil don’t steal and obsess over the underwear of their “fans”

Rook...the jury’s still out. But probably not. Probably

Maybe

Hopefully

Much less cooperative than Mayu.

Questions about the Prefect’s family name are met with a stony glare. “It’s Yuu. Just Yuu. How many times do I have to repeat myself?”

Can’t answer any questions about Mayu or her current whereabouts despite admitting to knowing of the girl, but does posit a theory about the three of them transmigrating and swapping places based on the information gained in Konoha

Gets offended and even less cooperative when the interrogating guard calls the hypothesis “crazy”

Not intimidated by Hajime or the other guards in the slightest. Yuu’s classmates are far more likely to inflict lasting bodily harm and it’s hard for even the worst human glare to measure up to Floyd or Leona on a bad day

The Warden scares the Prefect though

Doesn’t stop Yuu from requesting a lawyer or other legal counsel before submitting to further questioning

The Paranoiac is a Japanese citizen and has made a point to know what the applicable legal rights for this situation are

Yuu ends up in the holding cells

Guess who hasn’t learned their lesson while breaking out?

Uno takes one look at Yuu

“Ah Jyugo, this one has your energy”

Nico loudly asks if the Prefect is from an isekai and died and reincarnated in Nanba??! Do they die over and over again and revive to beat bad guys?? Do they have an amazing cheat skill?? Are they a spider?? Can they shoot a beam??

Yuu just thinks. Ah. So this is what would happen if Kalim and Idia somehow had a kid

Don’t break the Prefect out, but Jyugo comes back later and deposits something through the bars

“This is Kuu. He’s a guard, but he’s also really good when you’re lonely. You look like you could use the company”

Yuu blinks and holds out a hand for the black cat with a guard cap to sniff

Crashing in a cell cot is uncomfortable, but hey, at least there’s a cat to pet

Mayu—> Night Raven College

Why is there a tanuki in her bed?

Grim isn’t waking up by being murdered but being poked with a stick by another smol child isn’t much better

Mayu is Concerned by the Theory Wall

“Is— is the person who lives here okay?”

Grim: Hell if I know

Mayu’s even more Concerned when she opens the fridge and sees it’s bare

>:|

Sanji wouldn’t let these people go hungry, so she’s not going to either!

Searches until she finds the Prefect’s grocery money and marches with Grim to Mr. S’s Mystery Shop

Everyone is confused by the presence of a new preteen on campus after the last one vanished from Pomefiore during the night

Mayu’s used to haggling with market people who would rather see her starve than even sell her the worst of their produce, so she’s easily able to barter Sam down to a third of the price for the groceries she wants to buy

Sam’s more amused by the guts of this tiny samurai devil than anything

Mayu and Grim drag all the food back by themselves with a few students following from a distance out of curiosity

They all soon enter Ramshackle once the smells of cooking begin to emerge from the dorm

Silver first followed because the child has a sword and is now helping to knead dough

Epel arrived because he had questions about where Nana had gone, but Mayu is genuinely clueless so now he’s peeling apples for lack of anything better to do

Mayu soon has several “helpers” for making bread and other easy-to-preserve and mix-and-match bulk meals to fill the Ramshackle fridge, though she soon has to send Grim out for more ingredients when her helpers begin getting hungry

The night ends with a feast that can rival the quality of food served at Kalim’s parties

Mayu finds one of Yuu’s blank notebooks and writes down some easy recipes the Prefect can use for all the food now in the fridge and pantry, with emphasis on fish based dishes

The ghosts and Grim enjoy having Mayu much more than Nana

Mayu still has trouble sleeping in the big Ramshackle bed that night

Nana—> Konohagakure

Well this isn’t Nanba or Night Raven College

Welp. Time to go then.

Nana is halfway out of Konoha before anyone notices

Gai does notice because a strange kid in a prison jumpsuit swiftly scurrying to the exit sticks out like a sore thumb in the early morning

ANBU’s search for the vanished Yuu is the only reason Nana isn’t stopped by them

Nana tries to run

Nothing can outrun the Beautiful Green Beast of Konoha

Nana is now more than slightly traumatized

Gets carted off to early morning training with Naruto and Lee

Is initially more interested in plotting yet another escape attempt until Lee mentions Yuu and NRC—then he’s curious about what information he can glean about the two other members of this triad

Especially interested in the concept of reincarnating into another world or being brought there by an outside force rather than moving between worlds freely

Eats an almost alarming amount for his size at breakfast that morning and leaves nothing on his plate

Unfailingly well-mannered to his hosts

Offers more information about Mayu’s past world in payment for eating the Ketsugi’s food and waking up in their home after they refuse to let him pay them back using manual labor

Asks them to tell him what they already know so he can work out what knowledge gaps to fill in

Nana: ...Why are you singing Wonderwall?

Takes it upon himself to teach Lee and Naruto more English so they can at least form basic sentences

It’s an uphill battle because predicates and participles are hard

A supportive and encouraging if slightly inept teacher

Soon realizes Chie somehow knows all the swearwords and glares at him for trying to teach them to the boys

Also falls ill from eating chakra-infested food

Gets twitchier as the day goes on and asks to leave the village several times, insisting he can’t impose on their hospitality any longer

Only agrees to sleep on the couch once Jirou subtly implies that at least people will notice and go looking if he goes missing from their house compared to if he disappeared from a tree miles away from Konoha

Can’t sleep on the couch due to jumping at noises during the night, ends up curling up on the floor next to it

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komahinasecretexchange · 4 years

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Title: The Sun Sets

Author: @magioftheseas

For: @bidoofgodofdestruction

Pairings/Characters: KomaHina (other characters are just mentioned but you get some dr1 kids + Matsuda)

Rating/Warnings: T+ (violence, gore, murder, despair)

Prompt: “AU where Hajime didn’t become Kamukura, but he’s still ultimate despair, and Nagito and him spend time together”

Author’s notes: I love the idea of Despair!Hinata so much so I got really excited. What a rich fountain of potential! This is how it turned out. As much as I really wanted to dig in, I didn’t want to go too far with such a dark prompt, so it’s…a respectable 3.25K word length. There’s references to a certain song throughout because I’m sorry. (It’s from the Tangled animated series.)

He wasn’t a bad person. It wasn’t his fault. Everything he did—they deserved.

All he wanted was to stand proud. All he wanted was to be important. He had tried everything, he even studied his ass off and what did that get him?

It wasn’t his fault. He’s the villain, he’s sunk down to the lowest he can go, but it’s fine. This is just what happens when people get treated the way he did.

This fucker didn’t even get a chance to beg for mercy before Hinata brought down the bat. Again. Again. Again. It’s what they got for spitting on him, and it was what they deserved.

Hinata was panting, and the helmet was getting uncomfortable. Dropping the bat, it clattered against the ground, smearing the broken concrete with the same red as the sky above. Shaking, Hinata hoisted off the unwieldy Monokuma head off his own, and he was seized with the impulse to fling that to the ground too and stomp it into bits.

He gets halfway there, but is stopped by a lilting giggle.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You’ll just hurt your foot.”

It’s true that the helmet is barely scratched. Hinata still kicks it, and it goes rolling until it smacks into the wall, right next to the fresh corpse. He doesn’t turn. He just waits until slim arms wrap about his waist and a head of fluffy white hair settles on his shoulder. A cold chain presses into his back.

“If you want to break it, you should use a metal pipe.” Komaeda Nagito giggles. “We can find another one. It’s no big deal.”

Hinata inhaled sharply.

“Is there even a point to keep wearing this stupid thing?”

“I don’t know.” Komaeda hummed. “Do you want to keep wearing it?”

He pushes Komaeda away so that he can pick up the helmet. He brushes off the dust, but doesn’t put it on, instead carrying it limply. He does look at the corpse once more, at the dark uniform that reminds him of when he had been a disposable reserve.

Well. He was still disposable even if he wasn’t a reserve anymore.

“Come on, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda cajoles cheerfully. “Let’s leave this body for the crows and go someplace nicer.”

“Guess there’s no reason not to,” Hinata muttered, pausing when Komaeda knelt down to pick up his bat. He gives an experimental swing at the air, and beams at him. Hinata’s lips simply pull into a straight line. “Let’s go, Komaeda.”

Komaeda frowned at him.

“You know I don’t answer to that anymore.”

“Komaeda Nagito,” he insisted. “We’re either going or we’re not.”

Komaeda sighed.

“I swear… I definitely spoil you way too much, Hinata-kun.”

–

It had been Enoshima Junko who opened his eyes, but the reason why he was there was because of Komaeda Nagito.

A so-called Ultimate Luck, Hinata had heard of him here and there. He was infamous even among the reserves for his creepy and condescending attitude. Komaeda would’ve been torn to literal pieces by his class if they ever got the chance, Hinata was sure of that.

As for his own feelings… They’re complicated.

Komaeda had found him among the corpses of the rest of the reserve course. Komaeda had stared down at him and wondered aloud, “Good luck? Or bad luck?”

He had knelt down, all wide-eyed curiosity.

“Hey. Can you hear me?”

Hinata had nothing else at the time. He had, in fact, been prepared to die with everyone else. But he hadn’t. Even a deity wouldn’t know why he had taken Komaeda’s hand that day. Especially when even Enoshima Junko looked disappointed he was still alive.

Komaeda is…not his only friend, per say, but probably the one he’s most used to associating with of Ultimate Despair. His madness is less overwhelming, more underlying, in the twisted edges of serene smiles and the small catches of breath between laughter. In some ways, he’s easiest to deal with.

That doesn’t mean Hinata can let his guard down. Even when lead to an open space, with dead leaves crunching under their feet and not a speck of other life in sight. This place used to be a park, going by the long rusted and crumbled heap that used to be a bench.

“Did you want to talk?”

“I just happened to stumble across you, that’s all,” Komaeda says, poking his cheek. “Are you doing okay? You’re getting a bit reckless.”

“What does that matter?”

“Hmm.” Komaeda pursed his lips. “Is this about Ikusaba-san? Aha, it’s pretty pitiful, right? Ikusaba-san really thought that hateful girl was someone she could trust. Someone she knew better than anyone else. And yet, she was so surprised when she was discarded without a second thought! Ehehe.” Komaeda clapped. “Such despair! What a fitting end to her miserable existence!”

“Matsuda had been the same way,” Hinata muttered. “Gave everything to her only to be thrown away like trash. Maybe the rest of the reserve course had the right idea.”

It’s only a matter of time before I get stomped to pieces, too.

“It wouldn’t be despairing if you died right now after all that’s happened,” Komaeda said. “Just disappointing. So, you should stay alive, Hinata-kun. Alright?”

“Fine.” It’s a half-hearted grunt of a reply, but Hinata had been facetious before. With how much spite he had, to die now would be nothing more than a shame. “It’s not about Ikusaba. I didn’t know her; why would I care about what happened to her?”

“Because under Hinata-kun’s brusque exterior lies a soft heart of gold!” Komaeda exclaimed, hands up and open.

Hinata stared at him. At the red of the sky. At the dead trees. Once again at Komaeda’s plastic smiling face.

“It’s a joke,” he chirped, that smile cracking a little before expanding. His gaze flickers between Hinata’s unimpressed gaze and the Monokuma helmet in his hands. “But you have been acting up lately. I can’t help but worry.”

An Ultimate is worried about me.

He wonders how his idiot past self would’ve felt about that. When it had been Enoshima feigning concern, she made him feel important. Significant. Valued in how tired, angry, and aggravated he was with everything. It had all been a farce, of course. Enoshima didn’t give a shit about him.

But, Komaeda was sincere to a fault. He had no need to trick him. He didn’t even need Hinata around.

Well. There was one reason Komaeda might want him around.

“Are you lonely, Komaeda?” Despite the words, Hinata’s aware of how dull his tone is. It almost sounded bored, and he can’t say what his actual feelings on the matter are. If he feels anything at all. “Do you want me to stay the night?”

Komaeda sighed at him, unimpressed.

“You’re so annoyingly defiant. Haven’t figured out your place at all.”

“I don’t have one,” Hinata reminded him coldly. “My use as a reserve dried up the second Hope’s Peak fell to despair. And any use I had as a despair was negligible to begin with. You just keep me around because you’re lonely.”

“I don’t keep you,” Komaeda huffed, playing with the chain around his own neck. “You’re not a dog, Hinata-kun.”

I’ve been told differently in the past.

“You didn’t answer my question, Komaeda.”

Komaeda turned away, nose upturned.

“And I don’t plan on answering at all.”

“Alright.” Hinata didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll stay with you, then.”

Komaeda stiffens. Red touches his cheeks, but it’s not the red of despair. The way Komaeda trembles, however, may be akin to it.

Hinata just takes his hand. Squeezes. It could even be considered a romantic gesture, but to suggest Hinata’s capable of such a thing anymore is laughable. He’s barely human at this point, worn down to nothing more than impulses and irritability. Little more than an animal, really.

Even animals seek companionship. That doesn’t necessarily mean they feel love towards that companion.

–

The two of them are huddled together for the first class trial. Komaeda watches avidly as Naegi Makoto struggles to defend himself, as Kirigiri Kyouko speaks up with her findings, as Maizono Sayaka’s plans are brought to light. Hinata does stare at Naegi’s face when he finds out, taking in the betrayal and disbelief.

“It’s his own fault for trusting so easily in this situation,” he found himself saying. “He’s just asking to be used and abused.”

“It’s still such a shame about Maizono-san,” Komaeda said. “Such a bright presence. She could’ve turned out so much better.”

“They were all tricked so easily by Enoshima in the first place,” Hinata muttered. “Even I knew she wasn’t a good person from our interactions. These idiots happily locked themselves with a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

Komaeda elbows him.

“You shouldn’t be so dismissive towards your underclassmen.”

Hinata gives him a look but says nothing more. He just watches. Watches as their so-called underclassmen ‘solve’ the murder, watches as they sentence Kuwata Leon to death.

Hinata remembers that Souda had worked on every machination to be used for execution. He had been especially proud of Kuwata’s because, apparently, the two of them had been friends at one point. Hinata wasn’t surprised from watching Kuwata. Him and Souda had a lot in common.

And what did that get him?

“How unpleasant,” Komaeda sighed. “Kuwata-kun really was unfortunate.”

Komaeda almost sounds distant, and when Hinata watches him, he notes a flicker of something. Darker, curious, intent—a malicious flicker that rose to attention whenever that Naegi’s face was on screen.

“I really thought Naegi-kun would die first,” Komaeda says then, voice low. “But—I guess his own luck is not to be trifled with.”

No, Hinata thought. Maizono Sayaka just couldn’t bring herself to kill him after all the support he showed her. She settled for framing him instead.

Both lucky and unlucky, he supposed, and decided he didn’t want to think further on the matter. It didn’t matter. It didn’t. Enoshima was just going to kill all of them anyway once she made her point, and then… And then…

I guess the Future Foundation will finally crumble with them.

–

“It makes you angry, doesn’t it?”

“It drives you crazy, doesn’t it?”

“Aren’t you tired of being looked down upon? Stepped on? Being tossed aside like dirt?”

“I feel bad for you! So! I’ll let you destroy the world with me!”

He had suspected from the start that Enoshima Junko wasn’t a good person. She was grating and obnoxious, always in your face and shrill when she got annoyed. But the funny thing about being desperate is that you find yourself seeking validation even from people who get under your skin. People who drive you mad—encouraging more and more madness.

He wouldn’t be surprised if it was the same for Komaeda. If she had driven him the same way. Komaeda had claimed to hate her, passionately at that, but he shared the same fixation as everyone else.

She was too compelling to have anything but that effect. Something like that.

Although, really, Hinata knows he was just looking for excuses. He had been miserable and angry from the start, and she fueled the fire. Even if she hadn’t been there, he still…

…I’d still be trying to destroy myself.

Komaeda is sleeping comfortably on his chest. Komaeda often had nightmares and just the presence of another person was enough to keep him soothed. It’s pitiful. Seriously. Komaeda reminds him of himself and it really pisses him off.

And yet, even if he’d strangle his old self in a heartbeat, he can’t lay a hand on Komaeda. He’d have an easier time swinging a bat at Enoshima’s head. It was bizarre. It was uncomfortable. It had nothing to do with compassion or sympathy. It sure as shit had nothing to do with gratitude or obligation.

He just—doesn’t feel that way towards Komaeda specifically. He hates himself more than words can begin to convey. But he doesn’t hate Komaeda. His feelings towards Komaeda are complicated. Indifference. Apathy. Passivity. Nothing. But also…a pull. Like magnets drawn together.

Animals seeking company based purely on instinct.

Komaeda murmurs a string of nonsense, rubbing his face unconsciously into Hinata’s sternum. He smears drool. It’s disgusting, except Hinata doesn’t really care. It’s not any better or worse than being covered in someone’s blood, after all.

Tomorrow, there’ll be a new broadcast of their once underclassmen. That Naegi who Komaeda watched so intently has smartened up a little, given that he’s making some intelligent allies. Even then—Enoshima had outsmarted all of them. It’s still only a matter of time. Only a matter of time.

–

And then. That time never came.

–

“Hinata-kun? Can you hear me? Are you alright? Are you still moody? Aha. Well, it’s not like I don’t understand.”

Komaeda laughs, settling beside him like any friend would.

“Who would’ve thought? The one who took down that hateful girl was someone so, so—so normal. So unassuming. An Ultimate Lucky who wasn’t even that lucky.” Komaeda nudges him like he should be in on the joke this world has become. “Isn’t that underwhelming? Isn’t that depressing? I hated her more than anything and I never even… Naegi-kun didn’t even hate her, Hinata-kun. He still wanted her to live. He didn’t even hate her.”

“What a joke,” Hinata muttered darkly. “A total fucking nobody like that…? Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Komaeda sighed, head tilted back. “I was taken by total surprise.”

You watched him intently, though. You knew that kid. You must have felt towards him some kinda way—

And that just made Hinata angrier.

“Let’s go back to Hope’s Peak,” Komaeda chirped. “Let’s see if we can catch them.”

Let’s see if we can kill them.

“I suppose we should at least set up a proper funeral for that hateful girl and for Ikusaba-san as well,” Komaeda went on, eyes twinkling in the shadows. “Don’t you think so, too?”

Hinata doesn’t answer. Truth be told, he can’t begin to care about that. Not when he’s still fuming, still gritting his teeth, still grinding the molars to dust.

“You’ll give yourself a headache,” Komaeda scolds lightly.

Hinata bit his tongue.

“Y’know,” Komaeda goes on conversationally. “If a lackluster Ultimate Lucky is capable of that, I wonder what you’re capable of.”

In the next second, Hinata gripped him by the throat. Komaeda isn’t even startled, much less afraid. He just keeps smiling up at Hinata, curious and bright-eyed.

“Naegi-kun did have his precious classmates,” Komaeda murmurs, trailing his fingers along Hinata’s knuckles. “You don’t have anyone.”

Hinata stares at him before sighing, shaking his head as he released the other.

“I have you,” he muttered, gruff and cold.

“Oh!” Komaeda laughed. “That’s worse than nothing!”

–

Komaeda’s all kinds of chirpy and cheerful when they reach Hope’s Peak. He skitters about, excitable and nostalgic, yammering on and on about things that occurred, both on the broadcast and back when they had been in school. Hinata, for obvious reasons, had never been in the old main building, so he just listened half-heartedly as he trailed his fingers along the wall.

“And there was site of the first killing game!” Komaeda exclaims at one point. “Did you know? Hope’s Peak experimented on one of the reserves to make the Ultimate Everything.”

“I did know,” Hinata retorted. “I was one of the candidates.”

“E-Eh?! Really?! You never said that before!” Komaeda gasped. “What was it like? Was it utterly miserable and full of despair?!”

I didn’t know the full ramifications. What changed was—

“This is what’s going to happen to you,” Matsuda had snapped, smacking the desk where the files laid. “Is this really what you want?”

There were other candidates. Given how he had never been picked above others before, Hinata still wondered why Matsuda even bothered.

“Hinata-kun?”

He supposed it was for the same reason this guy bothered.

“It wasn’t really anything, Komaeda.”

Komaeda hums, even as he doesn’t hide his annoyance at being called by name.

“You cheated death twice, I suppose, considering what happened to that unfortunate little experiment. Aha, maybe you should have won the lottery instead.” He chuckles at the thought. “Aah, the thought of just dying alone on a hospital bed is so despairing! But I wouldn’t know if this is much better.”

Komaeda is faced away from him, skipping on ahead. Hinata follows without another word, all the way until they get to the stairs. The helmet weighs heavier and heavier with every step downward. Finally, they’re at the trial room. Komaeda looks around with blatant fascination. He quickened his pace to get to the bloodied mess that still stunk up the stale air about it.

Komaeda sighs oh so happily, rummaging through his case for his tools as Hinata slinks up behind him silently.

“How lucky,” he croons. “The hand is still in-tact…!”

Komaeda has a bit of trouble getting the chainsaw to start. He huffs, irritated.

“Urgh, why now…? Why when my greatest enemy is—?!”

Thwack.

Hinata didn’t hit him that hard with his bat, of course. Komaeda still dropped like a rock with a weak groan. Hinata swings down again, crushing the chainsaw to bits.

“H-Hi… Hi…”

Weakly, Komaeda tries to reach out, both for him and for the busted tool.

“W-Wh…”

“Sorry,” Hinata said, and he sets aside a device that makes Komaeda’s eyes grow hopelessly large. “Took this without asking. If you don’t forgive me, that’s fine.”

Komaeda makes a strangled sound of despair. When Hinata hoists him up, Komaeda flails in protest, screaming and clawing at his helmet until his fingernails break and blood is smeared over the dark metal. It doesn’t even slow Hinata down in carrying him out, and Komaeda can’t even stop him from detonating the bomb once they’re far enough.

–

Rather childishly, Komaeda is turned away from him, pretending he isn’t there even as he bandages up Komaeda’s fingers.

After a while, Komaeda announced, loudly and contemptuously, “My head hurts.”

“I’m surprised you’re still conscious,” Hinata remarked. “You’re hardier than you look.”

Komaeda scowled but shut his mouth firmly. It didn’t last for long.

“The others…are going to want you dead for what you did, Hinata-kun. And they’re going to blame me, too. How tremendously unfortunate.”

Hinata couldn’t care less about that. He had already figured he might as well make the world his enemy when he became the villain.

The remnants…the future foundation… It doesn’t matter who stands in my way. They’re all parasites as far as I’m concerned. Yes. Even him. We’d all be better off without any of them.

“She’s gone,” Komaeda whispered, then. His eyes fell shut. His breath hitches. “She’s really gone.”

Hinata discards his helmet once more. He scoots close, wrapping his arms around Komaeda’s shoulders and pulling him flush, back to Hinata’s chest. Komaeda stiffens as Hinata nuzzles into his hair.

You know it too, don’t you?

“Komaeda.”

“Stop,” Komaeda groaned, struggling a pitiful amount before slumping. “Don’t call me by name. Even if I did answer to it, I don’t want to hear it fall from your filthy reserve mouth.”

“Komaeda.”

You feel the same as me. We’re similar, after all.

Komaeda whines as Hinata breathes in. Hinata pulls back, turning Komaeda towards him and squeezing his shoulders.

“Komaeda,” he says, looking deeply into the other’s gaze. “Let’s destroy this world. All of it. All of it. Let’s destroy everything. Hope, despair—and the future.”

Komaeda stares back.

“Hi…nata-kun…?”

The sun sets on a new age, one without her. It’s still just as wretched, and Hinata’s as ready as he’ll ever be for it.

#komahina #komahina secret #fanfiction

71 notes · View notes

liberty-barnes · 4 years

Text

Switching Things Up

Louis Tomlinson x Female!Reader

University AU / Non-Famous AU

Summary: Five times Louis almost asked you out and the one time you asked him.

Warnings: cursing, fluffffff, bit of angst, misunderstandings, and Louis pining.

Word Count: 5k words

ERT: 20 minutes

A/N: i'm so in love with Louis it's not even funny anymore. also, it's finally out!!!!!!!

Inspired by: "Kiss You" "18" "Infinity" by One Direction, that one scene in the This Is Us movie.

Masterlist | Taglist

Louis's First

It was just another usual day for Louis. Wake up at six o'clock, drink his tea, go to class, pick up the girls from school, have lunch all together, and start his shift at Toys 'R' Us.

He genuinely liked working there. He loved kids, it was fun to be surrounded by toys, and they were quite respectful of his uni hours, so overall, it was quite a nice gig.

He was working on the floor today, greeting costumers, seeing if they need help with anything, trying to keep the shelves tidy. It was quite a slow day so since he was done with all his homework he took some time to play with the toys a bit.

"Okay, they've got to be here somewhere. Don't worry, we'll find you one just like it."

He lifted his head from where it was bowed over one of the pianos in the lower shelves, giving up on trying to get it to be straight and cracking his knuckles a bit.

The woman sounded pretty young and her voice was very nice so he started playing a random tune on the piano that was a bit more level with him (and sounded better too), just waiting for her to round the corner and spot him.

"Auntie, look, it's right there!"

The girl that passed right by him was absolutely divine. He'd never seen anyone as gorgeous as her and if the way his heart stuttered in his chest was any indication, his body seemed to agree. He straightened his shirt and ran his hands through his hair before turning around, ready to offer his help and maybe get her number after.

And if he pouted when she walked right past him with not the smallest reaction, nobody will ever know.

Louis's Second

He sat on a wooden bench as he waited in front of his youngest sisters' primary school. He was among parents and nannies, waiting for the bell to go off and the children to leave. His fingers tapped a random beat on his thigh while he hummed a melody that's been floating in his brain for a few minutes, trying to match some words to it.

So tell me, girl, if every time we touch

You get this kind of rush

He was about to take out his phone to write it down when a girl sat on the other side of the bench, taking out her headphones and putting them neatly into her bag.

But it wasn't just any girl.

It was the one he'd dubbed 'Future Mrs. Tommo', the girl from Toys 'R' Us. He refused to let her go this time, but he had no idea how to start the conversation.

That is, until she took out a familiar-looking binder, flipping it until she reached her desired page and started filling it out. It had been a mere thirty seconds before she started frowning.

He's never been so grateful to have chosen music as his minor.

"Are you in Charlton's class?"

The girl looked at him and he momentarily froze in place as his blue eyes met her (y/e/c) ones.

"Yeah, are you in his class?"

"Not anymore, I had him last year, though, he's a prick."

She huffed out a laugh and leaned back on the bench.

"Tell me about it, we've been talking about the Renaissance Era for two months and he still hasn't gotten to the interesting part."

"I thanked every deity imaginable that I got Natalie this year, I don't think I could do another year of that old man."

She turned to him and cocked her head.

"I've never heard of a 'Natalie' before."

"Natalie Dubois, she's a new teacher from France. Got a bit of a weird accent but she's a hell of a good teacher, and fun too, she gives us a bit more freedom, nothing like Charlton."

"What year are you?"

"Third, you?"

"Second."

He nodded and she tapped her pen against her binder.

"What're you studying?"

He was quite happy that she kept the conversation going.

"Drama major, music minor."

"Very artistic."

"I live to entertain. What about you?"

"Psychology major, music minor."

"Ooh, a brain doctor, I've always wondered if Psych majors could identify psychopaths from a single conversation."

She laughed at that and he felt his heart wanting to beat out of his chest. He wanted to record that sound so he could listen to it all the time. Use it as a ringtone, a melody for his next song, his alarm in the morning. He was positive he'd wake up in a much better mood if that's what brought him out of his slumber.

Unfortunately, he was interrupted before he could even ask for her number, or name, mind you, by the children's excited cheers.

Sooner than he would have liked, a little black-haired boy came running out and into her arms, Phoebe and Daisy only a couple steps behind.

"It was nice talking to you, I'll see you around!"

He could only wish her luck with that idiot teacher before she was gone and he had to care for his two little girls.

Louis's Third

The music room was quiet as he sat in front of the piano. He took out his notebook and started to play, following the notes messily scribbled on it.

I got a heart, and I got a soul, believe me, I will use them both

We made a start, be it a false one, I know

Baby I don't want to feel alone

He tried out, but something felt off. He tried a different note for the end, content with the way it sounded and scribbling it onto the notebook right after.

So kiss me where I lay down, my hands pressed to your cheeks

A long way from the playground

He frowned, changing a few notes here and there.

It sounded better, but there was still something missing.

"Try a key higher, it might sound better."

He heard her voice from the doorway, heart almost beating out of his chest for two entirely different reasons, though he chose to focus on the "I was startled" one instead of the "My dream girl is here" one.

He did as she told him though, and it did sound better.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

She looked entirely too pretty when she smiled. He wondered if the sun was really necessary given that she smiled bright enough to light up this galaxy and the next. He busied himself with writing the changes in his notebook while she went from table to table, searching up and down for something he wasn't aware of. He secretly hoped she wouldn't find it, just so he could stare at her for a bit longer.

"How're classes with Charlton going? Still a prick?"

"The day that man stops being a prick, angels will be falling from the sky."

He didn't see her fall, but he was pretty sure she was an angel.

"A-ha!"

He saw her lift a blue journal, the word 'Songs' beautifully calligraphed on it in gold. She put it back in her bag and approached him so she was standing right behind him, reading the words in his notebook.

He felt her shoulder grazing his and smelled her perfume. It was fruity and sweet. Peaches, maybe?

"That's a beautiful song, you're very talented."

He felt his cheeks heat up at the praise.

"Thanks."

He took a deep breath. This is it. He's gonna do it. He's gonna ask her out.

"Hey, I was wondering-"

"Shit!"

She got up in a flash and took her backpack from where she had put it down next to the seat.

"I'm gonna be late for my appointment but hold that thought 'til we meet again?"

She looked so sorry that he couldn't bear to tell her no.

Louis's Fourth

"I'm telling you, Niall, she's the most perfect girl to have ever walked this Earth."

He sighed as he faceplanted onto the couch, the blonde still strumming his guitar as if Louis wasn't having an existential crisis a mere six inched away from him.

"You don't even know her name."

"I'll just call her mine."

The punch that landed on his arm was deserved, he'll admit it.

"The way I'm seeing it, you just need to find out who she is and ask her out, it's really not that hard."

"But I don't know where to find her."

"Wrong, you know that she picks up her nephew at midday. A nephew that goes to the same school as your little sisters. Just figure out the kid's name, find the school records, and trace it back to her. Easy."

He lifted his head from the pillow and glared at Niall.

"That's illegal."

He shrugged.

"Most importantly, though, I'm awful with computers so we'd need to find someone to do it for us."

"I know a guy."

He nodded, that would be plan B, assuming they find a plan A first.

The door opened to the sound of Harry's amazing rendition of Juice, and Louis smiled unconsciously.

"Nialler, you home?"

"Living room!"

The brunette walked into the room and fist-bumped them, lifting Louis's legs so he could slide under them and sit.

"Why do you look like a kicked puppy?"

"I met the girl of my dreams but I don't know her name and have no idea how to contact her."

Unlike Niall, Harry was much more the romantic type. He believed in fate, love at first sight, and all that stupid shit in the books he read his sisters every night. It was no surprise when he gave him the most poetic, love-filled piece of advice Louis had ever heard.

"You just need to have faith, Lou. If she's the one for you then the universe will find a way to get your paths to cross again. Before you know it you'll be married with four kids and a cat, living on a little farm with a giant trampoline in your backyard."

"How did I end up with you two as my best friends? I either get a 'break into a primary school' or 'trust the universe', there is no in-between."

Niall laughed loudly and Harry patted his calves reassuringly before they heard the door open and their friends' voices echoing in the small flat.

"Hey, boys?"

"Living room!"

Liam came in with a couple of packs of beer, followed by Zayn and a third person whose footsteps he didn't recognize.

(Because yes, he'd memorized the sound of his friends' footsteps, sue him.)

"Lou, stop sulking, it's time to drink beers and be happy."

"I'm deeply sorry if my existential crisis is bothering you, Zayn, I'll try to suffer silently."

The laugh he heard made his breath hitch and his heart stutter in his chest.

He knew that laugh.

That laugh had been playing on a loop in Louis' brain for two weeks now.

He tried (read: failed miserably) to sit up naturally, though it looked a bit more forced than he wanted it to.

"Mystery Boy!"

She pointed at him with a gleeful expression on his face and if his soul hadn't left his body before, it sure had now.

"Hey."

Really? 'Hey'? That's the best he can do?

"I never caught your name."

She cocked her head to the side adorably, arm stretched over her knee from her place on the floor, leaning against the armchair.

"I never threw it."

It was stronger than him, he didn't even register his comment until she started laughing and he felt his cheeks burn up, the overwhelming sense of having fucked everything up taking over him.

"Drama majors, always clowning around."

He let out a relieved breath and smiled when she didn't seem to take any offense to it.

"You guys know each other?"

Liam, lovely Liam, looking like a confused puppy but bless his soul for asking because it made her speak and Louis loved hearing her voice so much, it sounded better than any music the world could provide.

"We've kind of met. I'm (Y/n), by the way."

(Y/n).

(Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n).

(Y/n) Tomlinson.

That had a nice ring to it.

A really nice ring to it.

Mrs. (Y/n) Tomlinson.

Perfect.

"Usually, this is the part where you tell me your name. I can't keep referring to you as 'Mystery Boy'."

She giggled and his cheeks heated up again, though he didn't mind embarrassing himself if it earned him a laugh from her every time.

"I'm Louis. Tomlinson. Louis Tomlinson."

"Nice to formally meet you, Louis."

He smiled and thanked the sun, moon, and stars for this opportunity. Because really, there wasn't a better opportunity than this one.

She's here.

With him.

(And his friends, but who cares about them?)

And he finally knew her name.

He could ask her out.

No fear.

No time-clock.

No hesitation.

"Here's your juice, love."

"Thanks, babe."

She threw Zayn a kiss and he felt his heart break.

Oh no.

"Guys, I have to tell you about this girl I met."

Louis sat down properly on the couch so he had a clear view of Zayn's face.

"Ooh, gossip."

The younger boy swatted him before letting out a dreamy sigh.

"She's just- She's so pretty and kind, and her laugh, she has the most beautiful laugh I've ever heard. She's a psych major so she always has something interesting to say and her friends are so cool. She's... She's just perfect."

Louis's Fifth

And perfect she is.

Louis left the flat right after he realized that the girl he'd been pining over was the same girl Zayn had been seeing, muttering about homework and essays and studying or whatever.

Now here he was, working the register at Toys 'R' Us, his usually bright and genuine smile replaced by an incredibly awkward and forced one, trying not to let the heartbreak eat him alive.

"Tommo!"

His coworker came over to him.

"Switch with me, James asked to see you."

Great, and now he was probably gonna get sacked from the only job he ever liked.

He walked with a frown on his face to his manager's office and sat down on the chair, waiting for him to finish what looked like a very intense phone call about... mechanical kittens?

He hung up a couple of minutes later and turned to Louis, resting his elbows on the desk.

"Louis. Louis, Louis, Louis. D'you mind telling me why my best worker's been sulking all day?"

He shrunk down a bit on the chair, suddenly feeling very small. Toys 'R' Us is a magical place, workers are supposed to be happy all the time.

"Just... Stuff."

"It's okay to be sad, but we worry about you. I mean, some of our regular costumers asked if you were alright cause you weren't jumping and joking. Just tell me what's wrong so I can try to help."

He let out a breath and let his head fall onto the desk.

"I met this girl and she's amazing, and kind, and funny, and just overall perfect."

"So you're sulking because you met the love of your life?"

"No! I'm sulking because the love of my life is dating one of my best mates."

He froze for a while, definitely not expecting that.

"What?"

"Zayn's dating her. I found out yesterday."

Jame took a deep breath and got up from his chair so he could get closer to Louis.

"Oh no."

"Oh yes."

"Not a Jimmy Hug."

"Shut up, you deserve one right now, no matter how much you like to pretend you hate them."

When he came out of his boss's office, more relaxed and with a small smile on his face, he immediately spotted you next to the pianos.

He took his break at that moment and only returned when he saw you leave through his place in the alleyway right next to the parking lot.

Your First

You took a deep breath and tightened your grip on your nephew's hand, steeling yourself before entering the store.

"We have to get one with brown fur, just like Summer!"

You promised little Lucas that if he behaved at the doctor's you'd get him get a new plushie, a German Shepherd, just like your parents' dog.

"Okay, they've got to be here somewhere. Don't worry, we'll find you one just like it."

You looked up and down aisles, trying to find the plushies but not knowing where to look. You could hear someone playing the piano a couple of feet away and let yourself be lulled by the sound of the song, you'd always loved Tchaikovsky.

"Auntie, look, it's right there!"

Your nephew pointed at the shelves just on the other side of the piano (and the beautiful pianist standing in front of it). You let Lucas pull you towards the shelves and search carefully for the perfect plushie while you tried to not let the man get to you.

He was gorgeous. Like, model tier, plaster his face on your walls gorgeous.

And you were shy.

So you dragged the time out and mentally asked him to approach you, pouting when you realized he couldn't read your thoughts and your nephew was asking to leave.

Your Second

You speed-walked to the school, still riled up because of your class with bloody Charlton.

You wanted nothing more than to sit down on the bench, listen to your music, and people-watch until your nephew got out.

But you weren't expecting him to be there.

You were still too shy to approach him so you just took out your headphones and sat on the other side of the bench, taking out your binder and filling out a few things before purposely stopping somewhere and tapping your pen on the paper, pouting and wishing that he'd 'save you' from your boredom.

"Are you in Charlton's class?"

Bingpot!

You looked at him and were temporarily taken aback by just how blue his eyes were, but forced yourself to speak. You weren't gonna get anywhere by keeping quiet.

"Yeah, are you in his class?"

"Not anymore, I had him last year, though, he's a prick."

You huffed out a laugh and leaned back on the bench, trying to look nonchalant.

"Tell me about it, we've been talking about the Renaissance Era for two months and he still hasn't gotten to the interesting part."

"I thanked every deity imaginable that I got Natalie this year, I don't think I could do another year of that old man."

You turned to him and cocked your head.

"I've never heard of a 'Natalie' before."

That's a lie, you knew who she was, you'd even interacted with her.

"Natalie Dubois, she's a new teacher from France. Got a bit of a weird accent but she's a hell of a good teacher, and fun too, she gives us a bit more freedom, nothing like Charlton."

"What year are you?"

"Third, you?"

"Second."

He nodded and you tapped your pen against your binder.

"What're you studying?"

"Drama major, music minor."

"Very artistic."

"I live to entertain. What about you?"

"Psychology major, music minor."

"Oh, a brain doctor, I've always wondered if Psych majors could identify psychopaths from a single conversation."

You laughed at that. Usually, you hated when people were that shallow about your job but when he said it, it didn't sound shallow or mock-ish. It sounded like a legitimate concern, like those things you think of at three in the morning when you can't sleep.

You were interrupted by the school bell and cursed mentally to not have gotten here earlier so you could talk to him more. Your nephew came running towards you and two little girls followed, walking towards Louis. He looked so good with children clinging to him that you had to physically extract yourself from that situation before you said or did something embarrassing.

"It was nice talking to you, I'll see you around!"

Your Third

You walked to the music room, praying that your song notebook was left behind there. You don't know what you'd do without it. It has every single one of your creations there.

You heard someone play the piano and groaned. You were way too sleep-deprived to deal with human interaction.

But this wasn't just any human interaction now, was it? Because Mystery Boy was there.

(He's been dubbed Mystery Boy in your head since you have no idea what his actual name is.)

You stood in the doorway for a while, notebook be damned, just watching him play, then frown, then play again, and light up like a happy little puppy once he found the right melody. Until he reached a complicated part and couldn't find the right combination.

"Try a key higher, it might sound better."

He jumped a bit and you felt bad for scaring him, but the way he blushed after was cute. He didn't answer, just did as you advised and smiled once he found that it sounded like he wanted it to.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

You smiled and the blush on his face was entirely too adorable and you went from table to table, pretending you didn't remember exactly where you were sitting that morning just so you could spend a bit longer than necessary in his presence.

"How're classes with Charlton going? Still a prick?"

"The day that man stops being a prick, angels will be falling from the sky."

You couldn't stall anymore, it would just be awkward at this point.

"A-ha!"

You showed off your journal before putting it back in your bag and going down the stairs of the auditorium so you could stand right next to him.

Deciding to be subtle but a little more daring than usual, you stood next to him, shoulders grazing while you read the words on his journal.

He smelled heavenly, like cologne and deodorant, and something that had to be entirely him. You wanted to bury yourself in that scent.

"That's a beautiful song, you're very talented."

You'd never get tired of watching him blush.

"Thanks."

You heard him take a deep breath just as your eyes went to the clock and you remembered your doctor's appointment with Lucas, he had to get the second dose for his shots and you were the only one who could get him to quiet down.

"Hey, I was wondering-"

"Shit!"

You got up in a flash and took the backpack from where you had put it down next to the seat.

"I'm gonna be late for my appointment but hold that thought 'til we meet again?"

He answered a small yes and you dashed out of the room.

Your Fourth

You followed Zayn to his friend's flat off-campus. You had met him a couple of months ago through Gigi, your best friend. Those two had been flirting for ages and it honestly made you sick, but Zayn was an easy-going person and you got along great, so when you mentioned that you had plans of getting drunk alone tonight, he offered to take you to his friend's house so you could get drunk with some company.

You entered the flat with Zayn and who you now knew to be Liam, saying hello to the two men in the room and tilting your head in questioning at the man lying face down on the couch.

"Lou, stop sulking, it's time to drink beers and be happy."

"I'm deeply sorry if my existential crisis is bothering you, Zayn, I'll try to suffer silently."

You couldn't stop the laugh bubbling from your chest as you sat down next to the armrest.

He sat up way too quickly to be safe and you smiled brightly once you realized who it was.

"Mystery Boy!"

It was fate, it had to be. This was the universe's way of telling you that you belonged together.

"Hey."

You giggled at his awkward greeting.

"I never caught your name."

"I never threw it."

You started laughing at his sassiness. If you weren't completely smitten before you sure were now.

"Drama majors, always clowning around."

"You guys know each other?"

Liam asked and you jumped into an explanation.

"We've kind of met. I'm (Y/n), by the way."

He said nothing for a couple of seconds and you worried you were being too forward.

"Usually, this is the part where you tell me your name. I can't keep referring to you as 'Mystery Boy'."

He blushed again, he seemed to be doing that a lot and you wondered if that was as unusual for him as it was for you to be this confident.

"I'm Louis. Tomlinson. Louis Tomlinson."

(Y/n) Tomlinson.

That had a nice ring to it.

A really nice ring to it.

Mrs. (Y/n) Tomlinson.

Perfect.

"Nice to formally meet you, Louis."

He smiled and you wanted to yell at the sun to hide because it was stopping you from seeing the true brightness of Louis's eyes.

"Here's your juice, love."

"Thanks, babe."

You threw Zayn a kiss and he rolled his eyes, already used to the fact that you were kind of nickname-addicted and very endearing.

And also kind of drunk, which is why he brought you the juice.

On second thought, that might be why you were being this confident.

You thought everything was going well, but as suddenly as it started, the object of your affection was out the door, muttering about appointments, or homework, or something you didn't understand, but that sure made you frown for the rest of the evening.

Your Fifth

You walked into Toys 'R' Us for two reasons that day.

The first is to get your nephew a birthday present.

The second is to (hopefully) see Louis.

You wanted to talk to him, the way he left the flat was strange, so you took advantage of the fact that you needed to get something from the store to try and see him.

You saw him go to the back as soon as you got here and decided to wait a bit for him to come back, looking at everything slower than you needed even though you knew exactly what to get. After fifteen minutes, you were pretty sure he wasn't going to come back. Maybe his shift ended already?

You took your present and left the store, looking around to see if you found him, to no avail.

The One

You marched to the door with only one goal in mind: ask Louis Tomlinson out on a date. It's been a week of him ignoring you, running away as soon as he saw you, barely answering your greetings and you were more than done.

If he wanted to turn you down, then it at least he would do it to your face, none of this ghosting nonsense. You don't want to spend the rest of your life thinking what might have been if you'd just reached out.

So, you talked to Niall, who gave you Louis's address and his schedule. You knew he was home and he had no way to escape you. He was babysitting his sisters, after all, so there was no way he could just run away.

You rang the doorbell and nervously wrang your hands in front of you, taking deep breaths and mentally going over what you wanted to say.

"I'll be right there! No, Daisy!"

His voice rang through the door and you smiled fondly at the sound, imagining him taking care of his sisters did something to you for some reason.

"Hi, sorry for the-"

He froze when he saw you, eyes going wide and mouth hanging open.

"Hi."

You said, and that seemed to bring him out of his stupor.

"(Y/n)."

"Yep."

"(Y/n)."

It seemed like he couldn't quite believe you were here.

"That's my name. Don't wear it out, though."

He shook his head and started stuttering his way through a response, trying to ask what you were doing here, at his house.

"Um, Niall told me where you lived. I had something I wanted to ask you."

When he didn't answer, you went for it.

"So, um, you've kind of been avoiding me lately which is quite unfortunate because I happen to like you... a lot... and so I-"

"Does Zayn know that?"

You were cut off in the middle of your rant and tilted your head confusingly at him.

"What?"

"Does Zayn know you 'like me a lot'?"

He looked angry, jaw clenched shut and arms crossed in front of his chest, which was no help to the attraction you felt towards him, that shirt did wonders for his biceps.

"Why should Zayn know about it?"

"Well, he's your boyfriend after all."

Wait, what?

"Well if he's my boyfriend then I should probably let Gigi know he's cheating."

He seemed to blanch at that.

"Gigi."

"Yeah. Gigi. You know, the girl he's been pining over since the beginning of the semester, they got together officially two weeks ago."

Only his sisters' voices could be heard.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So, um... you and Zayn... you're not..."

"Together? No."

You laughed and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear nervously.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

You snapped your head up and grinned devilishly.

"I believe I asked you first."

He laughed and took a step forward.

"Then I will most certainly go out with you, as long as you let me pay. Take it as an apology for how stupid I was."

"I guess that could be arranged."

He was so close you could smell his cologne. Still so, so tasty. Still so, so wonderful.

"Do I have to wait until the end of our first date to kiss you?"

"I think you've done enough waiting already."

"I think so too."

And he kissed you.

And you were happy.

here it is babes! finally out!

i hope you liked it and if you do, don’t forget to comment, reblog, like and stuff

have a nice day/morning/afternoon/night/whatever

-Love, Libby

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Taglists: (if your name is striked through it means for some reason tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you)

PERMA TAG

@jeezkiddo @beananacake @yoinkyourheart @averyfosterthoughts @onebigolemess @samoney69 @agirlwithpointlessideas @ddaawwssoonn @inhumanwithpowers @imagineshere-forall @stiles-banshees @orowit @spideynut @deathofmissjackson @parkersbliss @ephemeral-limerences @write-from-the-heart @cardboard-ben @my-alignment-is-bisexual @mendes-marvel @shawnsnovel @inthecornerchair @lovelynerdytraveler @niallssweetheart22 @incorrect-things @lost-in-the-stars03 @harishaanne

ACTORS/RPF TAG

@bubblegumbarnes @sofiaconlaz @hyluas

ONE DIRECTION

@hhighlydisfunctional1

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