#....cloud in the first one has fucked up her hands or had to replace fingers as per usual....but it's fine!!!

[scratchandfriends]

Apologies and Insecurities (+18)

Pairing: Gale Dekarios x Female Tav

WC: 2400

Summary: You’re so sick and tired of hearing about your lover’s toxic ex. It comes to a head and you’re ready to either break it off or kill him, he finally comes to his senses. 

*author’s note* let’s assume mama Karlach has had her second upgrade and can touchy feely, yes?

TW: SMUT! Praise kink, good boy Gale, unprotected sex, attempted murder? Arguments, make up sex, cream pies, oral sex f receiving, fingering, love making idk?

— — 

The party had made camp early. The sun was still out, but just starting to make its gentle dive into the horizon. 

Shadowheart, Astarion, and Wyll were seated side by side on a fallen log being used as a makeshift bench at the campfire circle. 

The smell of cooking meats wafted throughout the camp. The unlikely trio shared a bottle of stolen Elsmetar Red as they watched the evening’s entertainment unfold. 

*wOOOOOOsh* *rip* *THWACK* 

The sound of an arrow piercing tent fabric and lodging firmly into an oak tree rung out. 

“OH right, Gale, SURE! Just the same as it is every time!” Tav, bow in hand storms around the rocky outcropping obscuring Gale’s tent from the rest of the camp. Her footsteps stomp across the dirt, headed back to her own tent, kicking up pebbles in her wake. Tav’s face was bright red and her knuckles were ivory white from the tight grip she had on her weapon. 

“My darling, please!” The wizards voice sounded both apologetic and irritated resonating from behind the rocks as he exited his tent to follow. “It’s really nothing! I don’t see why you’re turning this into-“

“You don’t? Famed “wizard of waterdeep” fails to see the reason his lover is upset?” Tav huffs, still making a beeline across the camp, not even bothering to turn around. “Arcane knowledge can’t replace common sense, it seems.” 

*ppfftt* Astarion spits out a sip of wine, desperately trying to hide the sound of his chuckle. 

“Wow, a storm cloud hovers closely over the island of paradise it seems.” Wyll comments softly with raised eyebrows. 

“Will you shut up? I want to see if she kills him this time.” Shadowheart remarks, taking a sip of wine and enjoying the show. 

“If you can’t appreciate a bit of commentary, you don’t know good theatre.” Astarion says, smugly. “What do you think he did? Said Mystra’s name at the peak of climax? Bit her hand when slurping down another amulet?” 

“You’re terrible.” Wyll scolds while taking a drink. “… I’d put 50 gold on the first one.” 

Astarion smirks and holds out his hand. “Shake on it.” 

Wyll clasped Astarion’s pallid hand with a guilty looking grin. 

“Sweet love, all I asked is if you wanted a piece of cheese!” Gale pleads as he speed walks to keep up with Tav (running wasn’t his strong suit). 

Tav spins around on her heels and comes to a stop. 

“NO, you didn’t ‘ask if I wanted a piece of cheese!’” Tav yells, eyes wild. “You said ‘here, have a piece, you love blue cheese.’” She continues to seethe. “I FUCKING HATE BLUE CHEESE!” 

“I merely forgot! You can’t put an arrow through my chest because I had forgotten what kind of cheese you prefer!” Gale says, exasperated. 

“You said you knew I loved it! That’s not me! That’s stupid fucking Mystra, you gods-damned ignoramus!” Tav rushes towards her lover, angry tears pricking the corners of her eyes from the frustration. 

“If you had told me the wizard would die over a slice of Roquefort, I’d have sent you to the healers.” Astarion says with a smirk. “This is good.” 

“Should we be worried? Do you think the orb will explode if she kills him? Should we leave?” Wyll asks. 

“If that’s the way I die, so be it. This is too rich to miss.” Shadowheart says as she sits up further in interest. 

“Darling I must protest. I cannot thrive under these ridiculous expectations. You’re stifling me with your constant accusations! It’s been an age since Mystra and I promise I-“ Gale’s expression turns from apologetic to angry. 

“You just don’t fucking get it, do you? You can’t-” 

*THUMP*

The camp was silent. 

Shadowheart and Astarion gasp. 

“He did NOT just magically silence her, did he?” Wyll says with raised brows. 

“Oh he’s positively done for.” Astarion remarks with a devilish giggle. 

The trio watched Tav emote and scream in complete silence due to the magical effects cast by her wizard. She grips an arrow from her quiver and loads it into her bow. 

Just as she pulls the string back another voice echoed throughout the camp. 

“ALLright Soldier, that’s enough of that.” Karlach had emerged from her own tent and approached Tav’s raging form. “Come on, no murdering our friends.” 

Karlach bends down, scoops Tav up by her waist and throws her over her broad shoulder. 

“You’re going for a dunk in the river to cool off. If you still can’t play nice after that, we’ll have to try something else.” Karlach says as she affectionally pats Tav’s leg draped over her glowing chest. Tav silently kicks and screams in protest as the tiefling carries her much smaller body off into the woods. 

“Aww. Such an unsatisfying finale.” Astarion pouts as he takes another sip of wine. 

— — 

After a long soak in the cool river and a heated venting session with Karlach, your temper had subsided along with the searing sunlight of the day. You had forgone the normal revelry of an evening at camp to brood alone in your tent. Most of your companions had gone to bed you could only hear the dirge of crickets from the forest outside your tent. 

You stared at the peaked, cloth ceiling of your tent as you laid on your beck on your bedroll. You had been trying to sleep, but the anxious gnawing of your argument with Gale and the frustration of feeling like you’d always be second best were keeping your eyes pried open. 

How could you ever compare to a literal goddess? 

She was powerful. Beautiful. Inspirational. Celestial. 

Was he thinking of her every time he laid with you?

Tears threatened to form in the outer corners of your eyes again but you blinked them away. You hugged a pillow close to your chest to comfort yourself as you rolled onto your side. You let out a long sigh. 

As you gazed towards the opening of your tent, you see a flutter of movement agains the fabric near the door. After you watch whatever it was take a few fumbling brushes against the outside of the tent, the tent flaps separate and you see something enter your tent. You sit up on instinct and reach for your bow. 

Your heart rate slows when you see a translucent blue hand holding a large, beautiful, albeit clumsily put together, bouquet of daisies and baby’s breath. You snort a laugh, but make no move to accept the flowers. 

The hand wiggles the arrangement in your direction tentatively. You reach out and roll your eyes. You take the flowers from the magical, disembodied hand and set them at the side of your bed roll. 

“You can come in, Gale.” You say loudly. 

As if by magic, Gale steps sheepishly through your tent flaps and makes sure they’re closed properly behind him. 

“Good evening.” He says with a soft smile, standing awkwardly. 

“Thank you for the flowers.” You say after an uncomfortable silence. You swallow. “Come, sit.” You pat the bedroll across from your seated form. Gale sits gingerly across from you, his body not facing you fully, not wanting to seem too familiar. 

“I shouldn’t have tried to shoot you with an arrow. That was an ov-“ You begin. 

“No.” Gale interrupts you. “I will accept no apologies, for I am the one who is here to make amends.” 

You quiet yourself. You were the one who flew off the handle over cheese, for gods sake. You couldn’t form words. 

“Tav, I was being selfish. I didn’t think of the way you felt, being with someone whose last lover was a god. I was only thinking of myself… something I’ve been apt to do in relationships…” Gale hangs his head. “Something I need to be kept accountable for. It wasn’t about the cheese, I know that now.” Gale turns and looks into your eyes. “I come here to beg you for another chance.” 

“You needn’t beg, Gale.” You smile sympathetically. “Of course I’ll give you another chance. Daisies are my favorite flower, after all.” You reach out and take his hand in yours. 

“So you’ll give this old, bumbling wizard another shot at love?” Gale grins and squeezes your fingers in his. 

“Old bumbling wizard? Elminster is here?” You jest. 

“Thankfully no. It’s just you and I, my love… always.” Gale chuckles before reaching out with his free arm and pulling you close. “You’ll let me prove how deep my love for you is, yes?” He asks, wrapping his arms around your body and gently pushing you to lay back on your bedroll. 

“I’ll allow it.” You say playfully as Gale hovered above you. 

Gale hums and lifts your tunic over your head, you sit up to help him in the process. You go ahead and shimmy down your trousers, leaving your body completely bare on your mattress. Gale’s face is immediately buried in your neck, littering it with wet, open-mouthed kisses. His stubble scraped your flesh and your hips twitched in response. 

“How lucky am I…” Gale murmurs into your neck. “… that I get to have you like this…” He brings his hand up to squeeze your breast roughly, the way he knows you like. You moan softly at his touch. 

His kisses trail down your sternum while smooth, uncalloused hands pinched and twisted at your nipples. Hands never leaving your sensitive chest, Gale kissed above your navel, then your lower abdomen, then your mound before nuzzling his face into the coarse patch of hair here. The wizard takes a deep inhale. 

“So lovely, as always my sweet. Can’t wait to taste you…” Gale pulls his hands from your breasts and uses them to push your thighs apart as he settles himself between your legs. “Mmmmmph..” He moans even louder than you do as he delves his tongue between your lower lips. 

“Shit-“ You sigh out and instinctively tangle your right hand into Gale’s brown locks. 

And just like that, all transgressions and arguments were slingshotted out of your mind. The way his lips closed around your sensitive clit and suckled gently had your eyes rolling back in your head. You bring your left hand to grip your own breast, losing yourself in the pleasure Gale was bestowing upon you. You grind your hips further upward into his face, met with contented hums from deep in his chest. 

“You taste so sweet.. could drink you forever, darling…” Gale mumbles as he comes up for air, placing a gentle, wet kiss on your inner thigh. He shifts his position so he can bring two fingers and rub them messily up and down your slit. Your body jolts every time they brush your clit. “My my, what a sight.” Gale smirks before pushing those two digits into your sopping hole. He immediately curls them upward to pull and tap on your favorite spot. “Need you to cum for me, love… let go for me….” He coos before returning his lips to your clit. 

You cry out and arch your back. Your walls start clenching involuntarily and you feel a familiar pressure build in your abdomen.

“Fuck- just.. like- that-! Ah!” You dig your nails into Gale’s scalp as you reach your climax. You barely notice the slowing of the wizard’s fingers inside you as you ride out your orgasm. Your eyes flutter closed and you try to catch your breath. “Good boy.” You pant out with a dazed grin on your face, still staring at the ceiling of your tent. 

The bedroll shifts and you feel a soft hand pull your legs apart. 

Gale had shed his clothing and was now between your legs on his knees, straddling one of your legs while hauling the other over his shoulder. 

“You can’t say things like that…” Gale warns as he uses his hand that wasn’t holding your leg to his chest to guide his leaking cockhead through your soaking folds. “You know what that does to me…” He whispers as he slowly rubs his tip across your clit. 

You smirk and rake your nails down his chest. 

“Maybe I do…” You buck your hips, wordlessly begging him to enter you. 

Gale can’t resist the wetness of your sex any longer and pushes his member inside of you slowly and deliberately. You both let out relieved gasps as your hips become flush with each others. Without pulling out completely, your lover slowly grinds himself into you, pelvis rubbing your clit with every movement. 

You feel a gentle kiss pressed to the side of your knee. 

“Gods you’re fucking gorgeous. So perfect…” Gale praises as he brings a hand to pinch your nipple. 

Completely lost in pleasure, you arch your back and moan, not caring if anyone else in the camp hears you… they had already heard you argue earlier, this couldn’t be much worse. “Gale!” You cry out. 

“Yes love, I’m yours. Only yours.” Gale pants out between rough thrusts, the allure of his own end overwhelming him. “I love you, only you..” He drops your leg from his shoulder and leans over you, capturing your open lips in a searing kiss. 

“I’m-“ You whimper out, breaking the kiss after a few moments, feeling the tension in your sex threaten to release. 

“I know, I know, me too…” Gale huffs, forehead pressing against yours. 

“I love you.” You say as you grip Gale’s hair again, keeping him as close as you could physically have him. He continues grinding his member vigorously against the most sensitive spot inside of you. Your pleasure crested and you tipped over the edge with a cry. 

“I love you.” Gale mirrors and grunts before his hips stutter and you feel him pumping you full of white hot spend. Once the twitches of his cock slowed, he slumped over to your side and pulled your panting body into his chest. 

“So… you’re staying here tonight?” You ask as you draw lazy patterns on Gale’s back with your fingernails. 

“Oh without a doubt. Astarion was still up when I came in here. Called me names the entire time. There’s no way I’m going out and looking at his smug face now.” Gale says. 

“Such a plagued, little wizard you are.” You tease. 

“Plagued, yes. Little, no.” Gale protests. “I think you can attest to that.” He says with a charming smile. 

“Shut up and go to sleep.” You roll your eyes. 

[satorulovebot]

cursed seas chapter five | you're on your own, kid

↳ satoru gojou x reader

genre — heavy angst, pirate au, 18+ 

word count — 10k

tags/warnings — 18+, mentions of cannibalism, neglect, mentions of anxiety and depression, ooc gojo, explicit smut (don't get too happy), mentions of death

notes — gojo is an ass. that is literally it. if you thought he was nice in the last chapter and had some character development, no I dangled a carrot in front of you sawwy. maybe one of these days i’ll stick with a theme. also he doesn't behave like this to be an ass but it's more of a trauma response and other things. also, the reader has a hard time standing up for herself in stressful situations. She has no problem insulting gojo when shes not in a stressful situation just to clear the air and give her more characterization. also my smut skills are rusty as FUCK it’s been so long don’t make fun of me. anyways this has been long enough rb's and comments always appreciated and my inbox is always open :3

prev. never saw you coming | next. the lakes

The sky above the ship was a muted gray, covered with thick clouds that hung low over the horizon. The air was heavy with the scent of salt and seaweed, and the dampness clung to everything it touched. The island you were heading to was located amongst other islands. The islands were commonly referred to as the Sanguine Islands, some of the biggest islands in the Caribbean.

Captain Gojou stood at the helm as his hands rested on the ship's wheel. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was just as carefree as always. But you did know better. He was back to his usual self—cocky, arrogant, and always in control. He behaved kike the night before had never happened. What upset you the most was that you thought the two of you were getting somewhere. But it was all replaced by the same facade he wore when you first met him.

“Alright, gather ‘round,” Gojou called out. “We’ve got a map, and it’s time to head to our first destination.”

You were sitting on a wooden barrel when Gojou asked the crew to join him. You were speaking to Megumi and Yuuji about the map and if they had any ideas of what they would do with the treasure. Eventually, you walked over to him and stood a few feet behind the group, your fingers nervously clutching the map. Honestly, you didn’t want to give him the map, not after everything that happened, but you didn’t have a choice.

Still, you hesitated.

“Hey!” Gojou’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “The map, sweetheart. Don’t make me ask twice.”

You swallowed hard before stepping forward to hand him the map. Your fingers brushed against his as he took it from you, and you could feel the tension radiating from him.

“Good girl,” he muttered just loud enough for you to hear. The words were like a slap in the face. You stepped back, away from the group, as Gojou spread the map across a table on the deck. 

The way he acted as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t torn into you just hours ago, made your heart ache.

“We’re heading to an island,” Gojou began. “roughly three days' sail from here. It’s marked as uninhabited on most maps, but according to this,” he tapped the weathered parchment, “it’s got something we need. All you need to know is that we’re going there.”

“There is a catch, though. The island’s got a bit of a reputation. Cannibalistic locals, or so the rumors say. I’m not one for ghost stories, but if you’re the type to scare easily, consider this your warning to stay on the ship.” Gojou went to pick up the map before shouting out, “Oh, and Y/N, you’re coming too.”

The journey to the Sanguine Islands was uneventful, save for the occasional stormy waves that rocked the ship. You kept to yourself as usual, except for talking to the kids and Nanami. 

Something about those kids, though, was that they always seemed to be in a hurry. The other day, I saw Yuuji bringing a bucket below deck. I have never seen him get seasick or anything, and he lives on a ship. But it’s none of my business. 

It’s better to keep a low profile anyway, you thought to yourself. Besides, teenagers are sneaky.

Gojou seemed also to be keeping to himself. His usual cocky grin was back on his handsome face. It was unfortunate he was a good-looking man.

Finally, the islands appeared on the horizon, or at least what you could see of them. They were small, jagged pieces of land shrouded in mist. “This place gives me the creeps,” Yuuji muttered as he prepared to drop the anchor.

“It’s just an Island Itadori. You’ll be fine since you’re staying on the ship,” Nanami voiced.

“We’ll split into two groups. Half of you stay with the ship, which includes the kids, and the other half comes with me. Shokou, you also stay. We’ll check out the island, grab whatever treasure we can find, and return by nightfall.” Gojou announced.

As Gojou had previously stated, you were heading to the island, though you wished you weren't. You had a bad feeling when your feet touched the sand, and that feeling would only worsen. The group consisted of you, Toji, Getou, Nanami, and Captain Gojou. 

The deeper you ventured into the jungle, the more uneasy you felt. The trees seemed to close in around you, and the air was more humid than usual. Every now and then, you could hear the distant rustle of leaves from what you assumed were animals moving around in the underbrush. But whenever you turned to look, there was nothing.

“I don’t like this,” Getou muttered behind you.

“Quiet Suguru,” Gojou snapped. “We’re almost there.”

But “there” was nowhere to be found. The deeper the five of you went, the more lost you felt.

“Maybe we should head back?” You suggested quietly.

Gojou ignored you. Of course. But you could see the frustration in his expression as he tried to make sense of the map. 

“It’s like we’re going in fucking circles,” he muttered.

Suddenly, shouts erupted from the back of the group.

Before you could react, colorful figures burst from the treeline, their bodies covered in intricate tribal markings.

Chaos erupted as the four men fought back, but they were outnumbered. You ducked behind a tree as you tried to make sense of the situation.

“Retreat!” Toji shouted, his voice barely audible over the sound of clashing steel. “We need to get back to the ship!”

When you went to turn around, there was no clear path back.

And then, just as quickly as it had begun, the attackers vanished into the jungle.

“Nice job, Satoru were trapped,” Getou drawled.

“We’re not trapped,” Gojou snapped before turning to you. “Give me the map.”

In the thick of the fight, Gojou had dropped the map, and you managed to pick it up before anyone from the opposing side could. Your hands trembled as you pulled the map from your bag. Gojou snatched it from you before unfolding the faded parchment.

But when he went to read the map, it had changed. 

Where there had once been clear markings were now a mess of lines and symbols that made no sense. The landmarks did not match what you had seen on the island.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Gojou muttered, his eyes narrowing as he studied the map. “It’s like the damn thing is cursed.”

“We will find a way back to the ship. And when we do, we’re leaving this godforsaken island. Treasure or not.”

The five of you spent hours trying to make your way through the jungle back to the beach, where you had made landfall. But every time you seemed like you were getting closer, the paths continued to change, leaving you all more lost than before.

“We’re going in circles,” Toji growled.

“We need to stop,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “We’re exhausted and not getting anywhere like this.”

For a moment, you thought he might snap at you, as he had multiple times before. Instead, he sighed, his shoulders slumping, as he folded the map and tucked it into his coat pocket. 

“Fine,” he muttered, “We’ll rest here for the night.”

You wasted no time helping the crew set up a makeshift camp. You found some palm leaves that could be used as a mat so you wouldn’t be sleeping on the cold, hard jungle ground because god knows what is in this place.

You sat near the edge of the camp with your back against a tree as you stared into the flickering firelight. Your mind drifted back to Gojou and how he consistently spoke to you throughout your journey. Even on the night of the Merchant’s ball, he had never looked at you this way, although he did seem conflicted, and you could see it in his eyes.

It didn’t make any sense.

Yes, Gojou was infuriating, arrogant, and impossible to read. But something about him made your heart race and your thoughts spiral out of control. It didn’t help that he was extremely attractive, either. But you refused to let yourself fall for him, not after how he had treated you and what he had done.

You decided that it was time for you to at least try and get some rest before dealing with more of his bullshit. By the time the first light of dawn broke through the canopy, most of the crew was up and about. Gojou decided that you had all stayed in the same place for too long and needed to get moving. However, whenever you seemed to be going in the right direction, the dense foliage would twist and shift, obscuring your path.

Toji led the group since he had a machete that could slice through the undergrowth. Gojou stood behind you in case the attackers returned and decided to ambush your group from behind.

“What the hell is wrong with this place?” Toji growled.

“I did tell you it had a reputation. Locals say it’s cursed. People who come here usually never leave.” Gojou said.

Usually?!

“You believe that superstitious nonsense?” Nanami chimed in.

“It’s not nonsense, you ass. We’ve been walking in circles for hours. This place is messed up.”

“Enough. Keep moving,” Gojou ordered. “We’ll find a way out. There’s always a way out.” 

The thick canopy above blocked out most of the sunlight, causing permanent twilight during the day. It was easy to lose track of time. The hours seemed to blur together, and exhaustion began to show. 

“Maybe we should turn back? We’re not getting anywhere like this.”

Gojou shot you a look full of irritation. “Why would we turn back? We aren’t turning back until we find what we came for.”

But wasn’t he just saying it was okay if we didn’t find any treasure?

You decided to stay silent, not wanting to piss Gojou off any further. 

“This damn map,” he muttered under his breath.

You approached him, looking over his shoulder to scan the map. “It doesn’t make any sense. It’s like the island keeps changing, and the map doesn’t match.”

Toji, watching the exchange, sheathed his machete and stepped closer. “Look, Gojou, she’s right. We’re not getting anywhere. This place is like a maze, and we need to come up with a new plan.”

For a moment, Gojou looked like he was going to argue. But then he let out a sharp breath before folding the map and tucking it back into his coat. “Fine,” he muttered. “We’ll take a break, regroup, and figure out what the hell is going on.”

You all let out a collective sigh of relief as you set up a temporary camp. It wasn’t much, but it gave you all a chance to catch your breath and tend to any scrapes or wounds. You sat on a fallen log, wiping the sweat from your brow. Your eyes drifted to Gojou, who stood a few feet away, staring into the jungle with a frown. He hadn’t said much since he decided to stop, and you could tell that your current situation was finally catching up with him.

You approached him cautiously, your voice soft as you spoke. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. This place is just… pissing me off.”

“It’s like the island doesn’t want us to leave.”

Gojou didn’t respond immediately, but he continued to reassure you that you would be able to make it out.

As the sun began to set, the jungle seemed to be alive. The sounds of the day gave way to something darker. You all huddled closer to the fire you had built. The flames illuminated your faces. No one spoke, not even Captain Gojou. 

You decided to once again try to get Gojou to get you to keep moving. “We need to keep moving. We can’t stay here.”

“I know,” he muttered. “But we’re not moving in the dark. This place is bad enough during the day.”

You couldn't argue with that. This place felt like a death trap, and the thought of venturing back out into the jungle made you more than uncomfortable. But staying here wasn’t much better.

You glanced at Gojou, wondering what he was thinking. His face was hard to read, but you could see the way his hand rested on the hilt of his sword, ready for whatever the night would bring.

But nothing ever came.

This is the third day you have been stuck on the island. The path the group had been following had disappeared. Every turn leads to a dead end or tangled vines. The thick canopy overhead barely lets any sunlight in. It casts strange shadows that play tricks on the mind.

“Dammit,” Gojou muttered as he hacked away a particularly stubborn branch with his sword.

You kept your distance from him, knowing how irritated he was now, considering that you had been on this island for longer than he wanted. Your conversations had long since died down since each of you was focused on your survival. Getou had been having a reaction to mosquito bites recently, which had significantly slowed the group down. You were sweaty and dirty and desperately wanted a bath. The muscles in your legs screamed in protest, but you pushed forward, determined not to hold the group back.

A sudden noise caught everyone’s attention. Before anyone could react, something shot out of the underbrush. Panic erupted as more figures emerged from the jungle. They had necklaces made of bones around their necks and clothing made out of what you hoped was animal hide. 

You heard Gojou shout something out before grabbing your arm and running in the opposite direction, away from the chaos. You noticed there was blood smeared on his sleeve and his sword drawn. You came to a stop, and he ordered you to stay close to him, not even sparing you a second glance before he turned his back and started walking. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, too exhausted and too shaken to argue with him. Following him was your only option, and judging by his demeanor, you could see that he wasn’t exactly thrilled to be stuck with you.

As the two of you walked, neither of you spoke. The only sounds that could be heard were the crunch of leaves and the occasional snap of a twig.

“Do you know where we’re going?”

He didn’t stop walking, nor did he slow down. “No.”

“So we’re just wandering then?”

“You got a better idea?”

You didn’t bother responding. It wasn’t worth it. The ache in your legs had become unbearable, and it took more effort than you would have liked. But the last thing you were going to do was complain to him and have him think you’re weak. He already seemed to look down on you, and you didn’t think you could take any more of it.

“Why are you always like this?”

He stopped so suddenly that you almost ran into him.

“Like what?”

“Like you hate me. I’ve done nothing but try to help you and your crew. And all you do is push me away like I’m some… some nuisance.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his icy blue eyes studying you with an intensity that made your heart race. With a scoff, he turned away again. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then explain it to me. Tell me why you treat me like I’m nothing. Tell me why you act like—”

“Because it’s easier. It’s easier if I don’t care. If I don’t let myself...”

“Let’s go,” he muttered, turning away from you again. “We don’t have time for this.”

But you weren’t ready to let it go. “You don’t have to be like this.”

He didn’t respond and instead began walking again as you followed in silence. The jungle grew darker as the sun began to set, and the path became even harder to navigate. You stumbled over roots and rocks, your exhaustion making it difficult to keep up with Gojou.

After walking a little while, the two of you came across a small stream. Gojou knelt down by the water's edge, splashing some onto his face before drinking deeply. You followed his lead, kneeling beside his and cupping your hands to bring the cool water to your lips.

Then, without looking at you, Gojou spoke. “You should have stayed on the ship.” 

His words caught you off guard, and you looked at him in surprise. “What?” 

“You shouldn’t have come. You don’t belong here.” 

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “What? You told me to come! I thought I was helping.”

“It was a mistake. You’re just making things harder.”

Instead of arguing or defending yourself, you simply nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat.

“We should keep moving.”

And just like that, the conversation was over.

Your heart was heavy as you followed him through the dense jungle. The canopy above filtered the light into beams that cast shadows across the jungle floor, but you felt none of their promised warmth. Gojou strode ahead of you; you hadn’t spoken in hours and didn’t dare break the silence. Your feet ached with each step, the rough terrain taking its toll on your body, but the pain was nothing compared to the ache in your chest.

He suddenly stopped, its abruptness making you stumble. “We’re losing daylight,” he said flatly before turning his back to you once more. “Keep up.”

You swallowed hard before nodding. Words sat heavy on our tongue—words you wanted to shout, to throw at him in anger and frustration—but you bit them back. What good would they do? He had made it perfectly clear where you stood with him.

As you continued to walk, you noticed you were beginning to struggle even more than before. In an instant, your foot caught on a root, and before you could even let out a gasp, you were falling. The world spun, and pain shot through your ankle as you hit the earth. You bit back a cry, the sharp sting making its way up your leg. 

Gojou stopped again. This time, he glanced over his shoulder. His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes.

“Get up.” Get up? What the fuck? He didn’t move to help you and didn’t even offer you a hand. It was as if he expected you to pick yourself up, just like you always did.

You clenched your teeth. The pain was unbearable. Slowly, you managed to push yourself up, wincing as you put weight on your injured leg. It was clear that you couldn’t walk properly, but Gojou had already turned his back on you. Again.

For a moment, you just stood there. Your chest heaved in an effort to hold back you emotions. How many times would you have to prove your worth to him? How many times would he let you fall only to leave you behind without so much as a glance?

With a deep breath, you forced yourself to move. You limped after him with every step, sending a fresh wave of pain through your ankle, but you kept going. You had to. Not because he asked you to—but because you refused to be left behind.

It wasn’t until you heard the sound of running water that you realized the jungle was thinning out. Gojou was stopped a few feet in front of you with his gaze fixed on something in the distance. When you caught up, you saw what had gotten his attention—a river that cut through the dense forest.

“We need to find a way across. The island won't wait for us to figure it out.”

You nodded, though the pain in your ankle made the mere thought of crossing a river seem impossible, but you knew it was better not to voice your concerns. He wouldn't care. He never did. Not really.

The riverbank was rocky and uneven, and you found yourself trailing behind Gojou as he scouted ahead. You tried to mask the limp in your step, but he noticed. Of course, he did.

“You’re slowing us down. If you can't keep up, I’ll have to leave you behind.”

Of course. You expected no less from a heartless man like him.

“I can manage,” you replied quietly.

The two of you finally made it across the river, not without some trouble due to your injury. When you looked up, you could see the evening sky as it bled into soft shades of violet and indigo. The island’s edge was near, and you could hear the faint sounds of waves and the smell of salty seawater.

“We need to get off this island before night falls.” He started toward the beach without waiting for you, making it hard to keep up with his long strides. You followed him, limping slightly as you looked for any way to escape the island. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a small, weathered boat hidden behind a stack of driftwood. It looked old, and it probably couldn’t even float without sinking. But it was better than nothing.

“We can use that,” you called after Gojou. “But the oars…”

Gojou glanced at the boat before glancing back at you. “We don’t have a choice. We’ll figure it out.”

Without another word, he made his way over to the boat and began inspecting the vessel, running his hands over the worn wood to assess its condition. You stood back, watching him work. You limped over to the boat and knelt beside one of the broken oars, running your fingers along the jagged edge. “We could try to fix this,” you offered, unsure if he would even listen.

Gojou glanced up at you, and you thought he might snap at you. But surprisingly, he nodded.

“Do what you can,” he said before turning back to the boat.

With whatever scraps of driftwood and vines you could find, you began the makeshift repairs on the oars. The pain in your ankle throbbed with each movement, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through it. The sun was sinking lower in the sky, and when you finally managed to piece together something that resembled an oar, the sky was now a deep purple. It wasn’t pretty, but it would have to do.

“I think this will work,” you said, holding it up for Gojou to see.

He turned to inspect your handiwork, his eyes glancing over the makeshift oar. A small grunt of approval escaped his lips, and without saying another word, he began pushing the boat toward the water. You moved to help him despite the sharp pain in your leg. Together, the two of you heaved the boat into the shallows as the cold water lapped at your ankles. Gojou climbed in first before holding his hand out to you. It was the first time he had offered his help on your journey.

You hesitated for a moment before taking his hand and climbing into the boat. The oar you had repaired was far from perfect, but somehow, Gojou managed to guide the small vessel through the gentle waves. The island slowly began to fade from view, being swallowed by the darkness. You sat opposite him with your legs tucked beneath you. 

The small boat rocked gently as you neared the ship that could be seen on the horizon. Its lanterns on board had guided the both of you back, and for that, you were eternally grateful. Relief had washed over you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the pain in your ankle, which you had somehow almost forgotten about. 

Gojou continued to silently row the small boat toward the ship, his gaze fixed ahead. As you neared the ship, you could make out figures on the deck. It seemed like Nanami, Getou, and Toji had made it back safely, just as Gojou had predicted a few days ago. 

Yuuji and Ino quickly made work of pulling the small rowboat onto the side of the ship so you and Gojou could board once more. But the moment you tried to move, the pain flared up again, causing you to wince. You bit back a groan because you were unwilling to show weakness, especially in front of Gojou.

The boat bumped softly against the side of the ship, and without a word, he stood and glanced down at you, his eyes narrowed as he took in your obvious discomfort. You knew what was coming before he even moved, but that didn’t stop the jolt of surprise when he bent down and scooped you up in one swift motion, cradling you against his chest.

“W-what are you—”

“Can’t have you limping around the deck like a wounded animal. Besides, you can’t fix your ankle if you can’t even stand.”

Jesus Christ, this man is hot and cold. Can he please make up his mind?

Your protests fell flat as you realized how futile they were. He carried you through the deck of the ship, heading straight for his quarters. The door to his cabin creaked open, and Gojou carried you inside. He gently lowered you onto his bed.

“Stay here. I’ll get Shokou.”

Before you could respond, he turned on his heel and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him. You let out a slow breath, the tension in your body easing slightly now that you were alone. Your ankle still hurt, but at least you were off of it.

It wasn’t long before the door swung open again, and Shokou stepped inside. She carried a small medical kit with her. There was a hint of amusement in her expression as she glanced at you on the bed.

“Well, well, look who’s in need of some help,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I figured Gojou was being dramatic when he said you broke your ankle. Guess I owe him an apology.”

You forced a weak smile, wincing as you shifted slightly on the bed. “It’s not as bad as it looks… maybe.”

“Yeah, sure. Let me take a look.”

She knelt beside the bed and gently began to examine your ankle. It was swollen and bruised from all the walking you did on it. Her touch was light, but it didn’t stop the pain as she assessed the damage. You sucked in a sharp breath, biting down on your lip to stop yourself from making any noise.

“Hate to break it to you,” Shokou said after a moment, “but it’s definitely broken. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse, though. A little rest, and you’ll be good as new.”

She kept up a light conversation as she worked on bandaging your ankle. She carefully wrapped it before turning her attention to a small vial she pulled from her kit. “This should help with the pain,” she said, offering you a dose. “Drink up.”

You accepted the vial with a quiet nod. The liquid was bitter, but the relief that followed was almost immediate. The pain dulled to a more manageable state. 

Is this shit magic?

As Shokou finished up, Gojou reappeared in the doorway, casually leaning against the frame. His cerulean eyes flicked over to your bandaged ankle before settling on Shokou. “How bad?”

“Not bad enough to keep her out of trouble for long,” Shokou replied with a smirk, standing up and dusting off her hands. “She’ll be fine, but she needs to stay off it for a few days.”

“You heard her. No more running around.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you muttered.

Shokou began to pack up her kit, and before turning to leave, she gave you a quick pat on the shoulder. “I’ll check on you later,” she said, flashing you one last smile before disappearing out the door.

With it just being you and Gojou, the two of you fell into an uncomfortable silence. Gojou lingered for a moment before he pushed off the doorframe and approached the bed. 

“You did good back there,” he grumbled.

“Thanks… I guess.”

Without another word, Gojou turned back to the door. “Get some rest,” he called over his shoulder before stepping out, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room.

Not long after Gojou left, you sat in silence. Your ankle lightly throbbed, though Shokou’s treatment had eased some of the pain. The ache that lingered in your chest was another matter entirely. You hated everything about this ship, the adults on this ship, and most of all, Captain Gojou. All of them seemed to be pushing you towards a breaking point.

The door creaked open again, and you glanced up, expecting Shokou to check up on you. Unfortunately, it was Gojou. He glanced over at you briefly before stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“Are we going anywhere near Elysport?” you blurted.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard by the question. "Why?"

"Because I need to know. I need to know when I can leave this fucking ship."

His eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"I hate it here. I hate this ship, the way everyone looks at me, and I especially hate the way you’ve been treating me like I’m nothing more than a problem."

"I’m treating you like a problem?"

"Yes!" you snapped, pushing yourself up. "You’ve been an asshole from the start. You act like I’m just some burden you’re forced to carry, and I’m sick of it."

The way I treat you is because I’m keeping you alive. This isn’t some fucking pleasure cruise. You’re out of your depth, and I don’t have the luxury to babysit you."

"I don’t need you to babysit me, Gojou!" you shot back. "I need you to stop treating me like I’m invisible. You drag me along on this ship, ignore me, and then throw me a few scraps of attention when it suits you. I’m tired of it!"

"You think I’ve been ignoring you? I’m trying to protect you, even if you don’t see it. The less attention you get from the wrong people, the better. And if I have to push you away to do that, I will."

"I don’t need your protection, Gojou. I’m not some fragile doll who’s going to break at the first sign of danger."

"You have no idea what you’re talking about. This world we’re in—it’s cutthroat. People die. You’ve already seen that. And if you think leaving this ship is going to solve your problems, you’re dead wrong.”

"I don’t care!" you spat. "I want off this ship. I’ll take my chances out there. I’d rather deal with the dangers of the world on my own than be stuck here, treated like I don’t matter."

"You really think you’ll be safer anywhere else? That if you leave, everything will magically be fine?"

"I don’t care if it’s safer. I just want out. I can’t stand being here with you anymore, with the way you’ve been acting."

“I act this way because I have to. This world isn’t for someone like you.”

“The world is this way because of people like you! Maybe my father was right about pirates, considering people like you were the ones who killed her,” you spat. "Stop acting like you know me. You don’t know what I can handle, and I don’t need you making that choice for me. If we get near Elysport, I’m leaving."

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "We’ll talk about this later,” he said before turning to the door.

“Damn him.”

You didn’t care what Gojou thought or what he claimed. You were done with being treated like you were a piece of cargo who he could just push around whenever he felt like it. Besides, you could check up on how your father was doing if you went back to Elysport. Before leaving, you never spoke to your father much, except for the occasional holiday or whenever he was in the right mind to chat. You thought about how panicked he must be, knowing his only daughter was missing. Did he pray to God to bring you home the same he did all those years ago? You wondered if he was spiraling like he did after your mother’s death or if he was holding it together. You wondered if he was hoping his little girl's body would wash up on shore just as his wife’s did fourteen years ago. The two of you may have been distant in the last few years, but he was your father, and you loved him. You were a daddy’s girl through and through.

You wanted to go home.

“Sweetheart, you got lucky. We’re going to a place close enough to Elysport for you to take a carriage.” 

You looked up from the book you were reading to see Gojou standing in the doorway. You were sitting on Gojou’s bed reading one of his books with your ankle propped up on a pillow. You were surprised to hear that they were going in that general direction, considering their constant need to be in danger. Plus, you were surprised to hear that he was even letting you leave with his atrocious behavior.

“Oh, really? I’m surprised you’re even letting me off this ship,” you breathed. 

“I had a discussion with the rest of the crew, and they decided it would be best for you to leave if you truly want to. Yuuji was pretty opposed to the idea. The kid likes talking to you.”

“Well, that makes everyone else infinitely more likable than you. Oh, and also, you can keep the map; I don’t want it. It’s caused me enough trouble as it is, seeing I’m here with you.”

“Can you not be bratty for five minutes?”

“Can you not be an asshole for five minutes?”

“You should behave more like how you did on the island, submissive and silent. I liked you better then.” he spat. “Be more grateful we’re going anywhere near Elysport since we need a restock on supplies. For some reason, more supplies have been going missing even though you don’t even eat much or use much of it.”

It had been a few days since your accident, and your ankle was healing quite nicely. You could finally walk on it just in time to make it to Hinsoll Port, a port neighboring Elysport. For some reason, Gojou let you stay in his room, which you will admit was pretty nice of him. When you slept, he would sleep on his chair, and to be honest, it made you feel bad because of how uncomfortable it looked.

The day you got to the port, you stood at the edge of the dock as the wind tousled your hair. And for the first time in days, you finally felt free. You had been dropped off by Gojou while his ship was being restocked, and Yuuji was quite sad to see you go, so maybe he wasn’t lying about that. You had packed the little amount of stuff you had brought along with you and began walking down the dock. Regretfully, you decided to turn around, and low and behold, Gojou was leaning on the ship, watching you leave. He didn’t come to say goodbye as the rest of the crew had, and you just chalked it up to him being a self-righteous asshole.

Gojou had made it clear. We’re not going directly to Elysport, but close enough for you to take a carriage. You felt a pang of regret as you walked down the dock, as you were leaving behind a life you had known for only a month. Had it really been that long? You thought back to when Gojou had said sorry for once the night he had called you a whore and had carried you to a hotel so the two of you wouldn’t have to walk back. But that was before you had started this whole treasure hunt, and the last “hunt was disastrous. Even so, didn’t they need part of that for said treasure, and they don’t have it? Oh well, it’s not your problem anymore.

You made your way to the carriage station, and soon enough, you were tucked inside as the wooden wheels creaked beneath you. Your fingers played with the fabric of your skirts while the sound of hooves against dirt calmed your nerves.

When the late afternoon hit, you could see the streets of Elysport as the carriage came to a halt in front of your father’s house. The moment your foot hit the ground, you were hit with a wave of nostalgia. The city port smelled exactly the same as it had the day you left. It was kind of like an old friend pulling you into a warm embrace.

You hesitated for a moment while standing at the wooden door of your childhood home. It was a modest home ticked away on a quiet street. You used to take care of your father’s garden every once in a while, but it had since grown a bit wild in your absence. Your heart pounded in your chest as you raised your hand to knock on the door, unsure of how he would react to seeing you after being gone for a month.

The door creaked open, and there he was. Your father stood in the doorway, his face haint and his eyes sunken in. But the moment he saw you, his expression shifted into shock, disbelief, and finally, joy.

His arms were around you before you could say a word. “Thank God,” he whispered as he buried his face in your hair. “Thank God for bringing my little girl home.” You melted into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to look at you. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the stray tears that had slipped down your cheeks. “I prayed every night for you, hoping you'd come back to me.”

“I’m here now. I’m home.”

Your father just held you, and it was as if he was afraid that if he were to let go, you would disappear again. Eventually, he stepped back, his eyes glazed over, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Could you do me a favor, darling? The market’s still open. Would you pick me up some herbs? I was thinking of making a stew tonight since you came home.”

You nodded quickly, eager to please and eager to slip back into a normal routine. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

The marketplace was just as lively as you remembered. The sounds of laughter and conversation filled the air, along with baked goods and roast meats. As you made your way through the crowd, picking up the herbs your father had requested, you caught sight of an unfamiliar figure at the edge of the market. He stood out like a sore thumb—leaning casually against a stall. His pink hair stood out against the drab green and browns of the market, but it was the tattoos curling along his face that truly set him apart.

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

You were startled by the sudden appearance of the man with pink hair. You swallowed, unsure of how to respond. “We’ve heard about you. A traveler, are you not? Someone who’s seen more than they probably should.”

You blinked, confusion flooding your mind. “I—no, I’m just—”

“You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t looking for something. We all are.”

“I’m just here for my father,” you said, your voice coming out smaller than you intended.

"Of course you are. But that doesn’t mean you have to leave empty-handed.”

 “What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say,” Sukuna said, his grin widening, “we have an offer you can’t refuse. One that doesn’t involve treasure. All you need to do is listen.”

“What is this offer?”

“You know,” he began. “I thought I’d made it simple. Put up the wanted signs, sit back, and wait for you to be brought to me, along with the map.”

So that’s what he wants.

“I don’t have the map.”

Then, with a disappointed sigh, he stepped closer. “What a shame,” he murmured.“I was hoping you’d make things easier for me.”

“I told you, I don’t have it.”

“She’s telling the truth, you know. No point in lying about something like this.” This voice was a different one. It came from a small woman with white hair and an irregular line of dark plum pink running across the back of their head. 

 “Pity. Because if you did have it, we might’ve come to some sort of... understanding.”

“Funny thing, though. I hear that Captain Gojou, your kind-hearted protector, might’ve had something to do with your mother’s... untimely end.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, just rumors. But if you’re curious—really curious—you could always find out for yourself. All it would take is a little favor. Get us that map from Gojou, and we’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

“I... I don’t know.”

Captain Gojou was crazy, but he wasn’t that crazy.

“Well, take your time. But don’t take too long. You wouldn’t want the truth slipping through your fingers, now would you?”

“I’ll think about it,” you muttered, trying to buy yourself some time.

“Good girl,” Sukuna purred, his grin widening. “We’ll be waiting.”

You returned home clutching the herbs your father requested. The sky had darkened as the last rays of daylight turned into twilight. Your father sat in his chair by the window, the evening light casting shadows across his face.

“Got what you asked for,”  you said quietly, setting the herbs down on the table.

He gave you a small nod, but his gaze lingered on you longer than usual. He could sense something was wrong since he had always been able to read you like an open book.

“What’s on your mind, love?” he asked gently, leaning forward with concern etched into his features.

You hesitated, unsure of how to begin. “Dad,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “What if I told you... I could find out who killed Mom?”

The words hung in the air between the two of you, and for a moment, there was only silence. “What are you talking about?”

“I... I ran into someone at the market today. They said they knew... who might be behind it. But they need a favor.”

Your father’s brows furrowed. “Who are these people? What favor?”

“They want something from Captain Gojou. They want me to... get it for them. In exchange, they’ll tell me what happened to Mom.”

“And you believe them?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But if there’s even a chance... don’t you want to know the truth?”

His jaw tightened, and you thought he might refuse. But then, he sighed heavily, the years of pain and grief evident in the lines of his face. “I’ve spent fourteen years wondering who took her from us,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “If there’s a chance, even a small one, to finally get justice… then you do it. Find out who killed her.”

“You... you’re okay with me going back?”

“I’ve been waiting for this moment. Whoever killed your mother... I’ll see to it they pay.”

The sky was pitch black by the time you slipped into bed. You thought back to the conversation with your father. Although you had made your decision, it wasn’t any less scary. Your heart pounded in your chest as you lay in your childhood bedroom, staring up at the ceiling.

That’s when you heard the faint sound of footsteps outside your window. You sat up and looked towards the window, but you saw nothing, so you decided to ignore it, thinking it was a drunk passerby trying to get home. All of a sudden, you heard a knock at the window, and you saw a figure standing there. Before you could react, your small window was yanked open.

Of fucking course he’s here.

Gojou stood in the window frame, his white hair almost glowing in the dim moonlight.

“What are you doing here?” you whispered.

He hopped inside before closing the window behind him.  “I told you it was dangerous to be here. And yet, here you are.”

“I’m with my father, Gojou. I’m perfectly fine.”

“You think you’re safe because you’re in your childhood home?” His voice was laced with irritation. “Do you have any idea who’s been hanging around this town?”

Your stomach dropped. He knew about the strange man down by the marketplace. Though you never managed to catch his name.

“I... I can handle myself.”

“You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

“Yeah, that’s what you’ve been telling me since day one,” you muttered.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. And maybe I don’t. But I do know one thing—you’ve been lying to me.”

“What in God's name are you talking about?”

“I know you had something to do with my mother’s death,” you blurted out, the words spilling from your lips before you could stop them. 

“Your… mother?”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

“Listen, sweetheart, I haven’t had anything to do with your mother’s death, so don’t get too excited. Besides, I’m only thirty-two. Who told you this information? Was it the man with pink hair you met in the market?”

“It’s none of your business. And since when have you cared who I meet? Last I checked, you could have given two shits about me?”

You were now weary of the information the strange man had given you. And doing the math, he would have only been eighteen years old at the time of your mother’s death. But still, the thought lingered in your mind.

“I should’ve known you’d get involved in something this stupid,” he muttered.

“Take me back.” 

Gojou’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Take me back to your crew. Let me come with you. I need to see this through.”

“You want to come back after everything? You just left like yesterday.”

“Yes. I can’t stay here. Not when there are so many questions. Maybe the treasure can help me find out the truth about my mother.”

Lies.

“Are you sure you’re not going to force me to take you back the moment something shitty happens?”

“No, you ass, my father asked me to find out what happened to her.”

“Fine. But don’t think for a second I’m letting you out of my sight.”

“Why would that be.”

“Because you have been talking to strange men, Y/N. I’m not stupid,” he sighed. “Be ready by dawn,” he muttered as he walked back over to the window. “We leave as soon as the tide is in.”

Satoru felt guilty. He felt guilty about his lack of self-control, guilty that he managed to drive the one person who seemed to care away. Guilty about the fact he might hurt you.

Satoru didn’t know why he behaved this way. It’s not that he wanted to behave this way towards you, but that's how it was. He didn't know why he felt inclined to treat you the way he did, and he kept telling himself that this was normal behavior. He didn’t want to admit it, but he really liked the kiss the two of you shared in the hotel room, and he wished to have more of them. But there was something that seemed to stop the two of you from seeing eye to eye, and it was that map.

But there was one more thing Satoru felt guilty about. And that was his dream about you. 

Satoru didn’t remember exactly how it started, but all he knew was that you were the last person supposed to be there. 

You looked the same as you did a few nights ago, but instead of being in your heavy skirts, you were in a sheer nightgown. You were lying down on his bed facing away from him, and from where he was standing, he could see the outline of your supple breasts and the gentle curve of your waist.

“Sweetheart?” he murmured as he walked closer to where you were lying. As he got closer, he could hear the soft sounds of your cries, and he noticed your shoulders were shaking. He sat down on his bed and put his hand on your shoulder to give you some kind of comfort. Something he couldn’t do to the real you.

“Why do you always hurt me? I’ve done nothing but help you,” you sniffed.

Satisfaction.

Satoru felt a deep satisfaction because you were crying over him.

He shouldn’t have felt that way, but seeing your tears made him feel like he was in control. Just how he liked it. You turned around to face him, and he could see your teary-eyed expression in the candlelight. It made him happy that you suffered all because you liked him.

“You look so pretty when you cry,” he murmured as he stroked your tear-stained cheek.

The dream version of you stared up at him, seemingly analyzing every detail of him with your glossy eyes. You watched as Gojou took off his boots and made his way up his bed to rest his back against the headboard. He gripped your waist and lifted you from where you were sitting to sit on his lap.

“What are you doing in my chambers sitting half-naked and crying, sweetheart?”

“My best wasn’t as comfortable as yours,” you shrugged, ignoring the crying and half-naked part.

“Your bed wasn’t as comfortable as mine? Well, we can’t have that, can we, baby?”

You shook your head, docile like a rabbit. 

As soon as you sat in his lap, you immediately connected your lips with a soft gesture as he tasted the salt from your tears.

Gojou kissed you passionately as his large hand caressed your face, moving down from your cheeks to your collarbones and back, and finally, his hands rested on your backside. You sighed, leaning into the kiss, desperate to feel the warmth of his body, feeling the familiar heat pool in his belly.

“What do you want me to do, Sweetheart,” Gojou asked, breaking the kiss.

You were silent for a moment before responding, “I want you to fuck me.”

He groaned at your response and flipped the two of you over so that he was on top. You could feel his weight as he ground his hips against the flimsy piece of underwear you wore. You could feel his hardening cock rubbing against your clothed pussy and your inner thigh. He wanted to rip that sheer nightgown off your body and bury his head between your thighs, wondering how you would taste.

“I wanna feel your cock inside me. Please?” you moaned out.

You looked so pretty, so beautiful beneath him. Gojou sat up and made work untying his linen shirt and ridding himself of his breeches, which were practically useless by this point. You helped him untie his top, seemingly eager to be closer to him. When he managed to undo the last string, he pulled down his shorts, revealing his cock that slapped against his stomach.

Fuck he’s so hard, and he’s only dreaming.

There was only one problem: you still had your clothes on, or what could be considered clothes, considering it left nothing to the imagination. Gojou began dragging his fingers along the arousal-soaked underwear you wore. You shuddered when he slipped his hand inside your underwear, gliding his fingers through your soaked folds, almost dipping inside your hole but going back to your clit.

A small moan escaped you, and Gojou decided he wanted to see more, even if it was just a dream. He removed his hand from your underwear, hooked it onto the bands, and muttered, "Lift your hips" to you before removing your underwear. You closed your legs, embarrassed of the mess between your thighs and how wet you were for a man who made you cry and treated you like you were nothing. He pried your legs apart and was greeted by a small patch of hair, and he could see your hole clenching, desperate to be filled.

“Why are you so shy, hm?” He breathed. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Gojou focused his attention back on your neck, feathering soft kisses around the skin before moving to your breasts, lowering the straps of your thin chemise. You were arching your back as he descended further in further until he was face to face with your sopping cunt. He was quick to begin lapping at the entrance with his tongue until you were quietly moaning his name. “S-Satoru!”

It was like music to his ears and Satoru thought he could stay in this dream forever. 

“You taste so sweet, sweetheart. I could stay here forever,” he murmured, circling your sensitive bud before looking back at your slit, slightly spreading them apart to look at the mess you made. Satoru took one last look before grabbing his erect manhood and lining it up with your core, sliding his tip against your core to gather some of your arousal before sliding himself in. But before he could do anything his dream started becoming blurry and soon enough, he realized he was going to wake up.

All of a sudden, the world around him began to grow fuzzy, like a painting that was smeared by careless hands. Satoru blinked, trying to clear his vision, but it was ultimately useless. The edges of everything became clearer, and the next thing he knew, he was lying in a cold sweat on his bed in his captain’s chambers.

Satoru clenched his jaw, shaking his head to try and rid the images of his indecent dream. It was just a dream. Though his mind kept drifting back to the way your lips had lingered on his, and the heat of your body that was pressed against his in ways that felt all too real. It that dream he could touch you without restraint, kiss you without hesitation, and indulge in the desire he fought so hard to ignore.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. The frustration was mounting, but there was something else. A wet patch on his breeches. He glanced down and a wave of embarrassment swept over him, realizing how deep his dream had sunk his claws into him.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to push down the storm of emotions, but it was no use. Even here in the safety of his chambers, he couldn’t escape you.

Satoru stared out the small window of his quarters, the moonlight coming through the window, spilling in like silver threads. Why you? Why now? Of all the things haunting his subconscious, why was it you that left him so unhinged?

He needed control—over himself and his thoughts, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to let you go.

© satorulovebot 2024 please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my work.

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[crusadingcookie]

Hey i was wondering if maybe u can do a fic where reader is part of taskforce 141 and most of the time is super focused on the mission and her orders but seems out it it bc its her daughter bday or sum ,and they find out she used to have a family (husband,children the while shabang) but they were murdered or died in a terrorist attack. I just want something really angsty 😭💀

spring daffodils

Also on AO3!

Pairing: TF141 & fem!Reader, mentioned Reader x unnamed!Husband 

Summary: It’s been years since the tragic death of your husband and daughter at the hands of an enemy target you were tracking at the time. On the day of what would have been your daughter’s birthday, something in a mission causes you to break down in front of the rest of the task force. Or: 3k words of the reader crying and Task Force 141 comforting her

Word Count: 3k

Content Warnings: fem!Reader, angst, hurt/comfort, crying, brief argument with Ghost at the beginning but nothing too bad, Reader was married and had a child, mentions of death (including death of a child), brief mention of blood, Reader has the codename “Tigress”, this is all strictly platonic, Tigress has that widow trauma so no time for romance, no beta we die like Tigress' family, it's for the angst plot guys I swear

A/N: Thank you for the request, I’m sorry this is kinda late but I hope you enjoy it! The ending is a bit meh but I already felt bad with how late this is. I tried to make this as angsty as possible but with some comfort and a bit of fluff at the end. 

It was spring when you first met him. You were back home after a long, tiring time of non-stop tours and missions. You decided to take a small break of a couple of months before specialising further in your military career. A new café had opened near your home and you often found yourself there, spending the afternoon in the cosy shop. It was where you first met him. You had just picked up your cup of coffee when something bumped into you from behind, causing your coffee to spill all over the front of your shirt. You turned around, ready to have a word with whoever knocked into you when you were met with a ramble of apologies and promises to buy you a new coffee. Soon you found yourself sitting with the man in a private corner of the café, a hot cup of coffee in front of you and a promise of a new shirt to replace the coffee-stained one. One date quickly turned into two, the both of you enraptured with each other. And after a few years, a golden ring adorned your finger. After a year or so of the two of you being married, your daughter was born. A little human being who brought joy and innocence to your life, who did not know of the true horrors her mum faced to keep people like her safe.

=====

And it was spring when they died. The trees were starting to bud and the flowers were starting to bloom again. The sky was finally clear after months of grey clouds and cold winds. Mother Earth was once again encouraging and welcoming new life when their light was snuffed out. A bitter irony. 

The family of crows which lived in your back garden sat in the branches of the tree overlooking your driveway. Watching as you made your way across the driveway and to the front door, observing like a bad omen. Only for you to discover the bodies of your husband and daughter. Shot dead in the very living room of your own home. It was like a silly game of Cluedo, whodunnit and with what? Except this wasn’t a silly game of Cluedo. You knew exactly who had ordered this to be done. 

Their deaths were because of your line of work. A tragic event born from a multitude of failures. The target you were chasing at the time with your old squad had sent out the hit on your family. In a last-ditch attempt to attack your squad in some way. And if he couldn’t get to your squad directly, then he would hurt them indirectly. And that he did. Somehow it got out that you had a family, it shouldn’t have. Someone back at base fucked up because that information should have been strictly secret to prevent these types of situations in the first palace. It should have been redacted behind a big block of black ink on your file. But in the end, your target was the one with the last laugh whilst you were forced to deal with the sight of your husband and daughter murdered in your own home. 

Since that day you have thrown yourself into your work. Sinking in an endless ocean of mission after mission, wanting to give up and stop swimming and yet just as the last breath of air leaves your lungs you find yourself breaking the surface yet again. A never-ending cycle of peace until the storm of grief strikes anew.

Without anyone left back home, it was easy to dedicate everything to the military and a few years later you found yourself recruited by no other than Captain John Price himself. This new task force, the 141, was the closest thing to family you had experienced in a long time. And yet, you still couldn’t find it in yourself to tell the boys about them. About your husband and your little girl. A part of you reasoned that there was no need for them to know, what was the point when their fate has already been engraved in stone and nothing can change the outcome of what happened. Or maybe you were just too much of a coward to confront what happened that day.

What you couldn’t ignore was the current date. Its significance is seared into your mind, a constant reminder of what could have been. Of what you have lost. And of course, the task force was assigned a mission on this day of all days. At first, the mission you and the rest of the task force were on was going well. You always prided yourself in being professional and focused when it came to missions. You knew the seriousness of the situation and followed orders given to you. 

And then it all went to shit. You were already feeling off the moment you woke up. Not even looking at the small desk calendar to remind yourself of the date. As if you haven’t been counting down the days. Like clockwork, waiting for the guilt and grief to wash over you until the tsunami passed and you waited until another 365 days passed to repeat the process.

You and your team had cleared the abandoned village the enemy had set up base in. You were ordered to search and clear one of the buildings in case there were any enemies in hiding. As you methodically made your way through the house you came across what clearly used to be a child’s room. Toys were strewn about, but what caused you to pause was the sight of a teddy bear dropped at the foot of the bed. Intel had informed you that the village was forced to flee as the enemy forces occupied the area, some resisting and resulting in civilian deaths. Your eyes zeroed in on the blood splatter on one of the teddy’s ears, the fake fur matted with the dried liquid. 

“Mum, can I get that teddy pretty pleaasee?”

“Alright sweetie, but only this one okay?”

“Yay thank you! I will name you… hmmm… Sir Stripes!”

You honestly did not remember much after that. The rest of the village was deemed clear and soon you were on the flight back to base. You fought to keep yourself together just for a few more hours until you were back on base and could grieve alone within the confines of your own four walls. Your team watched with concern as you sat, back straight and staring ahead at the hull of the plane. 

A hand on your shoulder jolted you out of your memories. You recognised the face of the pilot and it took you embarrassingly long to realise the rest of the team had already disembarked the plane. You mumbled what you hoped was an intelligible apology and made your way over to the locker room. Thankfully the room was empty, you loved your teammates that was without question. But right now, you didn’t think you could make it much longer until you broke down. With practised ease, you stripped yourself of your gear and it seemed you were lucky enough that no one came to find out why you were taking so long. You should have known by now that luck typically doesn’t go your way. Just as you put away the last of your gear a voice from the doorway interrupted you.

“Care to explain what’s up with you today?” With a deep breath, you turned and faced Ghost. Your lieutenant was standing in the doorway of the armoury, already out of his field gear, although he looked just as intimidating in his normal attire. 

“I don’t know what you mean, the mission was a success.” You said, attempting to feign ignorance. Of course, Ghost saw through that.

“You were out of it” Ghost replied, his eyes piercing into yours, his sharp gaze never leaving you. 

You stayed silent, hoping that he would drop it and let you go so that you could inevitably cry in peace. The two of you stood in silence, staring at each other until Ghost crossed his arms over his chest, looking even more imposing in the doorway.

“Don’t bullshit me Tigress. You were clearly out of it, hell even Soap noticed and you know it takes him long to figure this kind of shit out.” 

“The mission was a success, so I don’t see why this is an issue.” You huffed, starting to get irritated at the man’s persistent probing. Any other day you would be happy to know that the infamous Ghost cared. But right now? Right now you just wanted to be left alone. You just wanted to stew in your grief, let the dark thoughts remind you of what happened. You had to keep the walls up. They can’t know how fucked up your life was. How you failed to protect them. You don’t deserve their comfort.

Ghost shifted at the slight tone in your voice. If it wasn’t clear before that something was bothering you, now it definitely was. “It becomes an issue when one of my soldiers is not thinking clearly in enemy territory.”

“Look, Lieutenant, it's getting late, we’re all tired. This won’t happen again.” You sighed, exasperated by both the exhaustion from the mission and the emotional toll it took on you.

You pushed past the man and made your way to the task force’s shared kitchen area. Hoping to get a fresh glass of water and some snacks before your inevitable break down. Of course Ghost, the stubborn man that he is, followed you. He wasn’t done with this situation and in his own way wanted to make sure you were okay so that you wouldn’t be distracted in future missions. You ignored the rest of your team sitting in the room and beelined straight for the kitchen cupboard, taking out an empty glass.

“This isn’t a joke Tigress. One mistake and it can cost you your life out there” 

“I know that!” You exclaimed in response to Ghost’s voice, not turning around to face the man who had followed you to the common area.

“Do you? Do you know that? Because today, out there it seemed like one of my soldiers was ready to put her life in danger because she wasn’t aware!”

Ghost waits for an answer but when he gets none he continued, “I can’t have you out there acting as if there is nothing for you to go back to back home”

“Well, there is nothing back home!” You yelled out, setting the glass not so gently on the counter. Immediately you closed your eyes in regret of your outburst. 

Ghost faltered for a second, the rest of the team watching you with your back turned to them

You faced the wall, feeling the sting grow stronger in your eyes. You tilted your face up towards the ceiling, hoping it would stave off the tears. The muscles in your jaw tensed as you clenched them in an attempt to keep your composure. 

“Tigress?”

You took a deep breath and turned to face your team. They watched as you faced them, your lip quivering as you fought to contain the sobs building in your throat, eyes brimmed with tears threatening to spill down your cheeks at any second. You rapidly blinked your eyes at the moisture building up in them. 

“I’m gonna go to sleep,” you said with a shaky voice.

“Hey, don’t pull away from us, please. Tell us what’s wrong” Gaz was the first one to break the silence, he got up and moved to stand in front of you. “Are you alright?” he asked, stretching his arms out towards you in a silent offering.

At the sound of his gentle voice the walls you so desperately built to shield your own heart broke. And with them your last composure. You sniffled a few times, inhaling the air up through your nose as your face twisted with both the emotional pain and the effort of not breaking down. You shook your head softly at him, words failing you at this moment due to the lump in your throat and the tight coil wrapped in your chest. You practically dove into Gaz’s outstretched arms, allowing yourself for the first time in years to have this comfort. His arms came down to wrap around you and in the safety of his embrace, the first sob escaped from where you tried to bury it down. The tears quickly followed and found their way down your cheeks. 

The two of you stood there for what felt like hours, Gaz gently rocking you from side to side. Years of built-up grief and anguish finally escaped from where you had buried those feelings deep within your heart, bubbling up into a series of broken sounds escaping your lips. After a few minutes, your sobs calmed down to a few quiet hiccups and sniffles. Another arm joined to draw comforting circles on your back, you tilted your head from where it was resting against Gaz’s chest to see Soap standing next to you. A warm smile on the Scotman’s face. 

“I- um…” you trailed off, your words interrupted by yet another sniffle. 

“Take your time lass,” answered Soap

You sent him a watery smile and pulled your sleeves over your hands to wipe at your eyes as well as your running nose. You coughed to clear the croakiness in your voice and took a deep breath in an effort to calm down.

“I had a husband years ago. We were married and even had a little girl together. This was before I joined the task force and everything,” you paused to accept a tissue from Price, you blew out your nose before continuing. “And well, they were both killed because of my involvement in a case. The target we were tracking sent out the hit.”

“Kid, I had no idea.” Price said, taking your used tissue from your hand and replacing it with a clean one. He may deny that he is the dad of the team, but all of you knew he cared for every single one of you.

“I didn’t want any of you to know. I tried putting that shit behind me. Didn’t want to talk about it, so I left it out of my file.” You explained and with a weak laugh you continue, “she would have been eight today. Her dad would always buy her those supermarket cakes, and if I wasn’t home she would insist I get one as well so that I could eat some cake too.”

All of your teammates’ hearts ached seeing how much pain you carried, how long you probably suffered and grieved for their losses without having anyone to comfort you. Never before had they seen you with this much pain in your voice, you were always the one who got the job done on missions. Who seemed like they had their life together and returned on leave to a happy home life.

You looked up after dabbing at your eyes with the tissue to see Price standing in front of you. You didn’t think you had any tears left in you but at the sight of your Captain, the unofficial dad of the team, with his arms out wide offering you a hug and a soft look in his eyes you felt the tears well up once again. 

You accepted Price’s hug and you felt the distinct lump in the back of your throat build up again and as much as you tried to will it away, it persisted and soon more sobs were forced from you. The smell of cigars and smoke enveloped you in the warmth of his embrace. Price only pulled you closer to his chest at the sound of your sobs, allowing you to fully bury your face into his shirt, no doubt wetting the fabric with your tears.

Soon Gaz joined you two, tears of his own in his eyes. Price reached up with one of his arms and pulled the younger man in. Soap followed shortly after and finally, you felt gentle yet firm arms enveloping all of you. You looked up to see Ghost, a rare soft look in his eyes and a silent apology for having pushed you for answers earlier. 

You felt safe here in the big, warm group hug of your teammates and slowly your sobs dwindled until they completely died down.

“I have some pictures I can show you guys,” you disentangled yourself from the group hug to move to one of the couches and took out your phone, scrolling past pictures of the task force members as well as pictures of your old team. You finally found your favourite picture, it shows your husband and daughter together, a tiger plushie clutched in your daughter’s hands. Your team gathered around as you showed them the picture.

“Wait, is that why?” Soap began to ask and you nodded.

“They were her favourite animal. And when she found out about codenames, she practically insisted on that being my codename”

“So like a secret spy!”

“Yes sweetie, it’s a secret spy name”

“Can you choose your own?”

“We can, or it’s a nickname given to us by our friends”

“Ooo how about Tiger? No! Tigress!”

“That’s an amazing idea, honey”

You took a moment to stare at the picture, smiling at how happy they both looked in it. Your hand which held the crumpled tissue reached up to lightly dab at the tears welling up in your eyes again. You accepted another tissue from Ghost this time, where he got them from you had no idea but you were grateful for it anyways. 

The rest of the evening was spent with all of you sharing various stories from over the years. Tucked in between your teammates, tired from the emotional day, you felt a sense of home. Something which you hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

[astromechs]

rebelcaptain + 🤎?

HELLO, i needed softness, so here is some self-indulgent nonsense in my modern au verse (featuring [spoiler!]) from this list (still accepting); also on ao3!

Even if she’s largely had the freedom to make her own schedule for the past ten years or so, Jyn has never really seen a reason to stay in bed longer than absolutely necessary. Call it a habit, call it conditioning, maybe, but lazing around just hasn’t had appeal; she doesn’t sleep well at night, hasn’t since she was a child, so why would she want to waste several good hours of a morning in a place that she finds frustrating more than relaxing? Better not to prolong the inevitable, anyway.

No, she’s never really seen a reason — until now.

Now, as she stirs, warm and comfortable and with her muscles feeling like they’re made of liquid in a good way, as she shifts until she’s nose to nose with Cassian, she fucking gets it; this is a moment she thinks she’d live in forever, if she could, and certainly not in any rush to break it by putting feet to the floor. He’s still asleep, with his jaw relaxed and face free of lines. His hair’s falling over his eyes — which he’s been grumbling about lately, that it’s too long, it’s getting in the way, and it needs to be cut — and in the silence, without that commentary, she’s able to really take it in.

He’s the most beautiful sight she’s ever seen, in any way and in any light, but it’s what’s in front of her now, touched by the first rays of morning sun creeping in through the blinds of the bedroom window nearby, may be her favorite one of all.

After a time, Jyn reaches up, gently brushing the hair from his forehead with her thumb. That makes his eyes flutter open, and a smile settle on his mouth that sends warmth straight to her chest, that has her own mouth reflecting it in an instant. There isn’t much separating them, but it’s still too much, regardless; she pulls him in closer, pressing her mouth to his.

It’s a kiss, just one, that she intends to act on its own, something soft to ease him back into the land of the waking, but he has different plans — which she can’t say she minds in the slightest. One turns to two and then to more, turns to parting her lips under his and letting him in, turns to shifting onto her back and pulling his weight over her so he can kiss her into the mattress until their lungs burn.

His hand slides under her shirt, fingers trailing over her skin and sparking something to life in their wake; in return, her hand that hadn’t left his face finds its way into his hair, tugging until there’s a noise from the back of his throat muffled against her mouth. And —

By the time they break apart, they’re both breathing as hard as they would be if they were in the ring. Whatever cloud of post-sleep haze that had lingered is completely gone now.

So is the soft smile he’d had for her, replaced by the barest hints of a smirk that, combined with a glint in his eye that she’s come to know well, has her dragging her teeth over her bottom lip as an ache of want tugs at her core.

If she had the capacity, she might think that it’s almost embarrassing, how something so fucking small can have such an effect on her; that’s shit for teenagers, not for someone who’s nearing thirty.

But she doesn’t have any thoughts at all as his lips find the base of her jaw and then her throat, her eyes sliding closed. She’s not sure she remembers what having a thought is even like as his hand pushes her shirt up over her stomach, replacing any chill over now-exposed skin with a line of kisses that slowly drift further and further down.

She can only squirm, now, when what she wants is so close but also so far — which earns her a pause and a hand pressed gently, but firmly, to still her; he breathes out a quiet, amused huff, hot against her skin. It’s as if it’s all meant to say one thing: patience.

Bastard.

Even if she rolls her eyes under closed lids, she does comply nevertheless, exhaling a deep breath and willing her whole body, as best she can, to still, because he’ll never let any effort go unrewarded. True to form, finally, his thumb hooks over the waistband of her sleep shorts, and —

There’s a shift of the mattress under them, followed by a loud, near-bloodcurdling — mrowww. In an instant, they both freeze; in the next, she’s vaguely aware of Cassian’s warmth leaving her.

Jyn cracks one eye open, and then the other, to find herself meeting an intent, soul-piercing stare that only a cat can manage.

“Hey, Oscar,” she says, her voice still raspy from sleep, as she props up onto her elbows. “You hungry?”

It’s a stupid question, and Oscar clearly agrees, considering the way he tilts his head as he continues to stare into her eyes. Because of that, because what she’s getting from him seems nearly human, any annoyance she might’ve had at the interruption fades; she snorts, halfway to a laugh, and reaches to scratch him fondly behind the ears.

That doesn’t impress him, and — okay, she can take a hint; with an effort that’s still much slower than she’d like, thanks to her stupid fucking shoulder, she pushes herself up the rest of the way, sliding her legs over toward the edge of the bed and shifting to drop her feet to the floor.

Apparently satisfied by this, Oscar leaps from the bed and trots out of the bedroom doorway toward the hall that leads to the kitchen, his tail sticking straight up.

But before she makes the final move out of bed, there’s warmth, again, at her back that she sinks into. That she can’t help but turn to. One of Cassian’s hands reaches for hers, threading their fingers together; the motion is as soft as his voice when he asks, “To be continued?”

In lieu of an answer, she presses another kiss to his lips; it takes every ounce of willpower she has not to sink into that, too.

Well before she wants, she pulls back, slowly dragging her fingers against his as she breaks from his grip. “I’ll hold you to that, you know.”

His last whisper into her ear lingers over her long after she leaves the room. “I’m counting on it.”

[catchyhuh]

the absolute state of their cellphones

i can't even think of any funny prelude to this. its just exactly what it says man. who the hell would trust these guys with a glass box worth a thousand dollars anyway??

lupin: 

it depends. he goes through a lot for obvious “don’t track me” reasons but sometimes he’ll continue to use one even if the screen is busted as hell. if its cracked in a way that hurts his delicate little fingers though it immediately gets the boot. so sometimes a phone lasts a week and other times a few months (long for him)

not controversial to say the most tech savvy, tied with fujiko most likely. i mean the guy knows how to update only CERTAIN parts of his phone (very helpful in his line of work you know)

the first to own a cellphone out of all of them though, and most definitely the reason goemon and jigen got ‘em because he essentially forced them too. maybe a little bit also the reason zenigata got one, 1 because Duh it’s easier to get updates on where the slimy fucker is and 2 he was maybe a Little jealous

jigen:

leaves the phone-ing to lup usually, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t carry one around. in fact jigen LOVES weirdo unusually shaped phones, like those wacky egg shaped fuckers they made in the early 2000s, the ones where you go “wtf is that” until you hear it ringing

has never owned an iphone and proud of the fact. he’s very much a tactile buttons and switches type of guy, so owning any kind of smartphone is sort of forced upon him

his phone’s got about the average wear and tear most grown men’s phones have, but he only uses DURABLE fuckers anyhow, so it can survive being dropped a few times. he’s not exactly hammering nails with this thing. probably goes through phones the least overall

fujiko:

oh this is a NICE phone. like the kind where you go omg what is that!! its so cute! little novelty jewelry charm and shit. there’s no mistaking this is HER phone. you could have never met this woman but if you saw this phone on the sidewalk you’d know EXACTLY how the person who dropped this phone looked, acted, and sounded like

a subtle technological monster. the screen never gets dirty, she ALWAYS has signal no matter where they are, and most freakishly the battery never seems to run low. ever. she could be out in the desert for days, weeks even, and still end the excursion on a solid 74%. did she fuck with the phone? does it run on water?? psychic energy that she drains from passerby??? is the phone just afraid of disappointing her? god knows i would be. nobody has even seen her charge that thing how the fuck is it working

miss mine does NOT drop her phone she does NOT get it scratched or dinged up. she’s better than that. she’s above “accidents” if fujiko drops her phone its a third party’s fault. it’s YOUR fault. now buy her a replacement

goemon:

necessity only. it’s not even that he vehemently hates them he just sees them as a nuisance. i mentioned before that i believe he DOES have SOME technology awareness, but it’s kind of a conscious choice for him to not fog up his brain learning like. what “the cloud” is for. he does not care!

there’s like little fingerprints on the screen because he presses against it with the force you’d use to snap a pencil in half but otherwise it’s not really in any rough state. 

if you got him to be very, very honest though, he kind of likes having an easy way to contact the others no matter where he is. like now he can be gone for months at a time without worrying about jigen finally snapping <3

zenigata:

oh oops. already uh. talked about this once before but HE’S ACCLIMATED he’s acclimated to this! and if you didn't see when i DID talk about it he canonically has a live wallpaper. goemon too. dudes rock

he tries so so hard not to break it but he’s. him. so it’s dinged up. one time i had my hands full getting outta my car and had to carry my phone in with my teeth and when i set it down i realized i had somehow bit into it enough to crack the edge of the screen. no reason i’m bringing this up

the main reason he goes through them just as quickly as lupin isn’t even his bull in a china shop tendencies, it’s just that he keeps losing the damn things. most of the stuff he keeps on his person is like, under three layers of coats and jackets and shit, because there aren’t many instances where he’s going to IMMEDIATELY need his wallet, right. but you’re expected to have easy access to your phone, so it doesn’t get that lockdown treatment, so it quite literally just. falls out of his coat. doink! gone. gone forever

[ranchracoon]

"Devour" Ch. 19 All Fun and Games Pt. 1

Master Post

Chapter 18

Bela’s POV

            The castle is haunted. With how little my sisters and I make our presence known, we could be mistaken for the ghosts that roam the castle; I’m sure the maids enjoy the break from being chased and tortured. Nothing brings me joy anymore, even the Moroaicǎ are moving more sluggish than normal, a simple push to their head knocks them over whereas before they would at least put up a fight. Mother tried to talk to us; Daniela refuses to leave her library with the exception of meals and her entire aura is a walking gray cloud. I still report my duties to Mother but avoid her gazes of concern and redirect her questions. Cassandra is handling it the worst; Daniela or I must bring her meals now after she killed three maids.

            Something churns inside me, a low rumble inside my chest twitches and buzzes: Mother is calling. I lift into the air and become air itself, I swirl and twist around each corner, I know exactly which way to go until I reach her office. With one knock on the door, I hear her allow me to enter. I take a deep breath then walk through the threshold, holding my hands behind my back.

            “Yes mother?” I ask.

            “Bela….Mother Miranda has called for all of us to attend a meeting and she requested that you and your sisters be present this time.”

            “Why?” My voice quivers with annoyance but I collect it in time before she notices.

            She lets out a long sigh, “she has just now been informed on the state of the village as have I which would explain our lack of…replacements. She wants you three to accompany me, that is all she told me.”

            “I understand mother.” I reply.

            “Bela?” She asks softly, she turns her head over her shoulder to look at me.

            “Yes Mother?”

            She stands and rotates fully to look at me, her look sympathetic but firm, “I know this is painful for all of you, and I hate to say it but I have given you all enough time to mourn. It has been months Bela. Daniela will not speak more than a few words to me, and Cassandra refuses to leave her room. I can only imagine how she must look now, but we do have a reputation to uphold.”

            A sudden surge of anger boils up inside me, “reputation?! Is that all you care about? How would you feel if it had been the baroness that was killed?!”

            Mother’s eyes widen, as do mine, I lower my head and cower down, “Mother I-I’m sorry.”

            She breaths out another sigh and pinches her nose with her thumb and pointer finger, “I know you did not mean anything by it. I will let your little outburst slide this time Bela, please gather your sisters and meet me in the main hall.”

            “Yes Mother.” I say and disappear.

            The feeling of weightlessness is a welcomed relief, I am without my physical and emotional burdens. Pure instinct overcomes everything else and for a moment I feel a different kind of hollowness as the air whips around me. I land on my feet in front of Cassandra’s door, I examine the collected dust and spider webs that decorate her hall since the maids have all but abandoned this section of the castle. I knock firmly on the door. No answer.

            “Cassandra, Mother has requested us to join her.” I say flatly.

            “Go away Bela.” Her voice croaks.

            “We don’t have a choice. Mother Miranda has called for us.”

            “Fuck Mother Miranda.”

            “You don’t mean that.”

            “Just leave Bela!”

            “Fine.”

            I drop into a mass on the floor, the stray parts of myself slither through the crack under the wooden door, it always tickles a little when I recollect but the sensation no longer makes me giggle. My jaw drops as I look around Cassandra’s room for the first time since she first locked herself away all those months ago. It reeks. Why are her floors sticky? When was the last time she showered? She is laying on her bed clutching that same cloak to her chest as if it’s the only thing that kept her alive. Her golden eyes have dulled as she raises her head to glare at me, they no longer hold that shimmering glow from before. She appears like a small child from how malnourished she is, her cheekbones prominent under her paler skin with sunken in eyes. I sigh and cross my arms; she lays her head back down and hisses pathetically.

“I don’t want to go either Cassandra but we can’t disappoint Mother again.”

“Just leave me alone Bela..”

“Get your ass up, off that bed and into the shower. I also need you to drink something, I don’t care what but something so mother doesn’t see you like this.” I growl.

“Or else what?” She glares.

I growl again and walk around her bed; I suck in a breath at seeing the cloak once again, my chest constricting. I swallow the lump in my throat then grab Cassandra’s shoulders and throw her off the bed onto her grimy floor. While she got back onto her feet, I take the cloak in my hands and hold it away from her as she reaches for it, I use one hand to hold her back. She used to be the strongest of all of us, this would have been a piece of cake for her, but clearly, she is too weak to swarm or fight back. She releases a pitiful whimper; she must have cried her tear ducts empty because nothing comes out but she wipes her eyes anyway.

“Give it back Bela!” She whines.

“No! I miss her too Cassandra but this is not healthy! Look at you! You can barely stand on your own two feet. Take a shower, feed, and meet the rest of us in the main hall now!” I order.

Cassandra sniffles and looks away with a shaky sigh before she walks away into her bathroom, she slams the door closed; it would have broken the frame before but now it barely makes a shudder. I glance at the torn cloak and feel my own tears in my eyes. I sniff and place the cloak on her bed then wipe my eyes as I leave the bedroom. When I open the door I pause, Daniela is standing there with a bottle in her hand. She looks down toward the floor, her eyes don’t meet mine.

“I was on my way to bring Cassandra something to eat…I heard you two talking. I’ll leave this in there and join you.” She whispers.

At least she still looks somewhat normal and healthy. I give her a slight nod before I fly away from her and Cassandra’s room. I quickly stop at my room. My bed stands there untouched, as does most of my room for I spend my time in any place other than here. I scoff, here I was condemning Cassandra for how she is acting yet I still can’t sleep in my bed and opted to curl up in the chair in the cellar. I stroll into the bathroom and splash my face with cold water then dry it off with a soft huff. I stare at the girl in the mirror, she certainly isn’t me. This girl looks defeated, sleep-deprived, and broken whereas I am confident, strong, and independent. At least I used to be.

When I arrive in the main hall Mother glimpses down at me before she looks away toward the stairs. Daniela joins us next, she tugs her hood over her head and keeps her eyes on the floor in front of her. I missed her glowing attitude, how she always had something to make us laugh, she was always a walking beacon of light that guided us away from the dark and now here we are: completely consumed by it. Cassandra takes longer but eventually she too appears from her swarm, she has blood all over her face. I sigh in relief to see she has fed and looks moderately better, her cheeks can’t be seen through her skin anymore, and at least she is close to clean. Mother kneels in front Cassandra without a word, she reaches out and wipes her mouth with the handkerchief in her gloved hand. When Mother stands and start to walk, we follow in silence.

The moon is non-existent in the sky but the stars sparkle in the moons absence and our night vision is enough. Summer whisps on the breeze, it carries the smell of blossoms and decay from the rotting corpses in the village. I shot a look at the village, it’s merely a pile of rubble now from the rampant lycans. The first warm night we were allowed to hunt for Y/N, Daniela and I overturned everything in sight for some sort of clue, anything that would tell a different story. We only found more clothing scraps before we were run off by a horde of lycans, their numbers have only doubled since the attack. I pay attention to the gravel beneath my feet, I stare in front of me until we reach the broken-down church that overlooks the former village. We enter through the moss-covered double doors and stand around Mother in a half circle. I’m on her right, Cassandra and Daniela are on her left. A murder of crows and feathers puffs Mother Miranda into existence; her signature golden mask adorns her face but her eyes give away her tiredness.

 Donna sits to the far left, and Moreau in the far corner on the left side of where Heisenberg should have been but the bench remains empty. Mother scoffs under her breath as she holds her cigarette holder and lights a cigarette in it. She breaths in deeply and exhales before crossing her ankles, over a half hour passes before Mother Miranda sighs with impatience. I shift from one foot to the other, I really do hate standing still for so long without a break.

“Very well, it would appear Heisenberg will not be joining us tonight, despite being the subject of tonight’s meeting. I had hoped I could discuss with him about his lack of control over his mutts. I apologize for the delay on this issue, Eva has been a handful as she is beginning to teeth, I digress though. Alcina, I’m pleased you brought your daughters; I would like them to help exterminate the lycans in the village. If they are capable.”

“They are more than capable Mother Miranda.”

Creaking above us makes me look up to see said lycans gather around the caved in ceiling of the church. Daniela and Cassandra notice it too and lock eyes with me, all three of us chittered in an attempt to get our mother's attention who hushes us under her breath. Something is very wrong, we can feel the tension shift in the air. A booming laugh and the double doors being swung open surprise all of us and make us look toward the entrance. Heisenberg carries his hammer over his shoulder and exhales a large cloud of smoke from his cigar.

“It’s about time you showed up! Here I thought the tall lady was bad about making grand entrances. We started the meeting without you!” Screeches Angie who waddles over to him.

He scowls at the doll and swipes her away with his boot, she gasps and floats up toward his face.

“Get out of my face you demented thing before I smash you into sawdust.” Heisenberg threatens.

“Bite me Heisenbutt!” She screams.

He places his cigar in his mouth and grabs the doll from the air, she opens her wooden mouth to bite but a scrap of metal encases her whole head. Her screams are muffled by the metal and soon more scrap joins to encase around her whole body, she falls to the ground and stops wiggling around. The tiniest gasp breaks the following silence, I jerk my head to Donna who has her hands up, even with her face covered I can tell she is frozen, unsure what to do. My attention is drawn back to Heisenberg who scoots the doll off to the side with his boot then postures his chest.

“Now that she’s taken care of, please excuse me for my tardiness, your highness.” He pulls his hat off and does a dramatic, swooping bow toward Mother Miranda, “I do hope I didn’t interrupt anything important.”

Mother Miranda scoffs in frustration, “we were talking about your lycans running loose over the village. They have killed off everyone and left the village in a state of ruin. No one is left.”

“Well, you’re still here. For now.” He snickers.

“Pray tell, what do you mean by that?” Mother asks sarcastically.

Heisenberg smirks, “I’m not here to talk about what used to be a village, I am here to kill you super-sized bitch, and your little pests too!” He points to Mother and us, “then I’m going to turn precious, little Eva into an orphan.”

“Not if I have anything to do with that!” Mother abruptly stands with her claws outstretched.

“Ah, ah ah!” Heisenberg reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a lengthy dagger, “you should really hide such important things better.”

Mother freezes. My eyes flash from her to the dagger with wide eyes, on cue two armored lycans surround Heisenberg, growling and huffing. More lycans appear behind him from seemingly nowhere. My sisters and I share a concerned look, all of us reach down toward our sickles.

“You can’t take all of us!” Shouts Moreau.

“You’re right my fishy friend. Hence why I brought back up.”

Heisenberg tosses the dagger to one of the lycans behind him, the dog shakes his head and carries the dagger proudly. The air shifts. It becomes thick, heavy, and somehow hotter than before as if breathing in a warm liquid. All of us hold our breath as Heisenberg raises his arms open and twists toward the front doors as two more armored lycans push through and keep them open. My eyes start to burn with tears, I draw in a breath and quiver with a muffled sob as the woman we all thought was dead comes through the door. She stands next to Heisenberg without a word, without looking up, nothing. Her hair is longer, unkept, and she is covered in dirt and soot, her clothes no longer have color except black and a brown I know all too well as dried blood. She wears a metal muzzle that travels over the top of her head and down her back with crimson colored glass over the eyes.

“You said she was dead!” Screams Cassandra.

Daniela and I startle from the sudden shout but arrive to her side and grab her, our swarms melt into each other to keep her back. Her swarm fights with ours, flies bite each other and miniature splatters of darken blood drip over the ground. She isn’t at her full strength but it still requires both of us to fight her back, she reforms and growls. She’s seething with anger and that bloodthirsty glow returns to her eyes.

“I never said she was dead. I simply brought you a cloak and you came to that conclusion on your own.” Heisenberg retorts.

He places the head of his hammer against the ground and retrieves a long, black, rod from the other side of his jacket. After a dark chuckle the tip sparks to life with electricity, he tilts it toward Y/N who now flinches away from it.

“Get ready for the grand finale!” He shouts.

“No!” All three of us scream.

The tip touches Y/N in the chest, her scream isn’t loud, rather it’s strained and muted from the muzzle. She drops to her knees, the metal around her begins to shift with her, it grows and molds with her body, her clothes rip like thin paper, now we can truly see what Heisenberg has done. Metal coats her body like an exoskeleton, the muzzle melded around her maw, her claws have sharp, metal attachments that lengthen them, metal implanted into her skin, up her arms to her chest where a large, glowing, red light sits. The same metal cages her legs and has similar attachments to her back paws. She unleashes an earth-shaking howl, her teeth flash in the limited lights from also being replaced with metal.

Lycans fall from the ceiling, many of them surround Mother Miranda who explodes in a ball of black sludge, when the sludge slips away she is not in her usual, ceremonial garb, rather her legs are a bundle of roots, her hands stretch out into lengthy claws, and her wings are big enough to block the starlight. Heisenberg charges from his stance and swings his hammer at Miranda, Moreau vomits acid at the lycans, Y/N charges toward Mother and body slams her through the wall.

“Daniela, get Donna out of here! Cassandra, we need to get that dagger from whichever lycan has it and not let it touch mother!” I order.

“What are you going to do?” Cassandra asks as she cuts the neck of a lycan.

“I’m going to help Mother.”

The three of us nod in understanding. Daniela swarms away and grabs Donna before swarming toward the doors of the church. Cassandra flies over the crowd of the lycans until she finds the lycan with the dagger, she reforms and bulldozes through them like a hot knife through butter. Heisenberg and Mother Miranda destroy the other half of the church and travel into the woods. Mother Miranda uses her powers to root Heisenberg but lycans overpower her and give him an opportunity to break free and strike her. I glide through the hole to find Mother and Y/N tearing at each other; Mother’s dress is torn and stained in black sludge, she trembles and unleashes a powerful shriek of anger as her back burst open to gigantic, white wings.

I have to act fast. I’m nearest to Y/N, she really is as large as mother until something unexpected happens. Now Mother sets free another roar followed by the rest of her human form dissolving and being replaced with a dragon-noid creature with mother’s upper half on top. Mother smashes Y/N into the ground as her gigantic mouth crushes down on Y/N’s shoulder. In return Y/N howls and kicks her back paws against Mother’s stomach, black sludge spurts out from the deep claw marks and she screams. She lands with a thud on her feet and makes eye contact me, quickly she maneuvers to block me from Y/N, I grunt from the impact of her weight against the ground.

“Bela! Get out of here!” She orders.

“No! You’ll kill each other! We have to get that thing off, this isn’t her!”

Mother snarls and rears up on her hind legs, as Y/N is about to swipe Mother brings her feet down and pins her again, this time she uses her back legs to pin Y/N’s back legs too. Using this opportunity to swarm between them, I must remain half-formed to avoid being knocked over from Y/N trying to wrestle free. I punch my sickle against the bright light in her chest, I hammer against the extended metal from it along her chest; all that did is chip my sickle.

“It’s not breaking!” I yell.

Y/N wildly shakes her head and snaps her teeth under Mother’s giant mouth on the neck. I yelp from shock, something from one of them smacks my top form and sends me from their bodies. They continue to yowl, snarl, and cleft into each other, turning the ground a mixture of mud, blood, and black sludge. The metal is too strong to be cut, but maybe it can be dissolved.

“Mother! Please don’t kill her! I’ll be back!”

Mother only rumbles in response as I dust myself off and fly back to the barely standing church. Heisenberg and Mother Miranda can’t be seen but I still hear their yells and shrieks from deeper in the woods. Cassandra is surrounded by piles of dust and crystalized bodies, the dagger just within grasp as she combats lycans on all sides of her. Daniela isn’t far off behind her, Donna nowhere in sight, but the person I need is. Moreau. I slither through the horde and appear next to Moreau, careful not to step in the massive puddles of acid and vomit as I assist him in any mutts that pass through.

“Moreau! I need your help! The metal on Y/N is too strong to cut, I need you to try your acid to dissolve it.”

“I’m a bit busy right now.” He replies after vomiting again over a group.

“HEISENBUTT!” I know that high pitched screech.

Hundreds of dolls armed with scissors, knives, needles, anything with a point waves into the church in a sea of chitters and giggles, with of course, Angie at the very front of it. Donna comes into view near where Angie had been tossed, now free from her restraints Angie can lead her army. Dolls submerge Moreau and I; they stab viciously and clear a path for us to move through.

“Come on.”

I grip Moreau’s hand and drag him through the path. He isn’t as fast as me but he does his best to keep up as we follow the trail of destruction to find Mother in the middle of the village. She’s laying on her side, Y/N hovers over her with one paw on her dragon-noid chest and the other in the air about to strike her exposed, tentacle form.

“Now Moreau, now!” I scream.

He retches and projects his acidic vomit, landing directly on Y/N’s back and some splattering on Mother who wails in pain. Y/N shrieks and flings herself onto her back, her body convulses and her claws slash at her shoulders, she strikes her back against anything in her path to remove the acid. I seize Moreau and use every bit of my body I can, I surround his body, each one of my thousands of selves lift Moreau to keep up with Y/N. She rolls onto her back, and reveals the bright light on her chest. Moreau vomits again, it’s not as stream-line like before, this time he projects it upward and makes it rain down over her. Her entire body singes and smokes; the acid is working but at what cost?

The red-light blinks multiple times until it fizzes out and melts off Y/N’s body, leaving a track of seared fur and skin in its wake. The air hangs with the stink of burnt flesh, I let Moreau go gently who recomposes himself and grumbles as Y/N batters around until she collapses on her stomach. Both of us stand there, I sigh in relief when I see her chest sluggishly rise and fall. I look over my shoulder and Mother is back in her human form; I run to her and embrace her hand while her other holds her stomach.

“Are you okay Mother?” I ask worriedly.

“I will be…clever of you to use acid.” She grimaces and tightens her hold on her still bleeding stomach.

“You need to rest. I’ll check on Y/N.”

“You’re sisters? Where are they?” She grunts out.

Before I can answer her, lycans begin to run out of the church in every direction they could while whimpering and yelping as manic dolls float after them.

Continue Reading

[artificialqueens]

Fantaisie in F minor, Op. 49 (Anetra x Sasha Colby) - Writworm42

A/N: 3 years after a life-changing and career-ending attack, Sasha comes back to the piano with Anetra's help.

TW transphobic violence, though not written about in detail. Chopin is my absolute favourite composer and in tough times, I cling to his music. I hope I gave him a fitting tribute. Title is one of his pieces; I tried to pick one that fit the fic's mood, but lmk what y'all think! I highly encourage everyone who's not familiar with his music to listen to the songs named in the fic as well, they're all beautiful.

Thank you Athena for beta-ing & hyping me up. Please note, I'm not a guide dog user, but I did try my best to research. If anyone who is a guide dog user has any feedback for me, please let me know!

It makes the news the night it happens, and stays on the news for weeks.

First transgender winner of International Chopin Competition attacked at awards ceremony. Even three years later, the thought of it opens a pit in Sasha’s stomach that makes bile rise in her throat. The hospital stay where all the nurses treated her coldly, where she didn’t speak the language they spoke to each other, sometimes right in front of her, and only knew what she was told despite having so many questions. The way she had been only half-conscious most of the time between the painkillers, anesthetics, and ICU delirium. The pain, so much fucking pain. Being wheeled from surgery to surgery, never knowing when the last one would be.

Blinking and blinking and blinking, but seeing nothing but clouds and muted colours. A fog she’d never be able to get out of, no matter how many ophthalmologists she consulted. 

She brings her hands to her face, the phantom burn of acid tearing over the bumps of her scarred skin as her throat tightens, her heart speeding up. Her mind’s eye was 20/20, suddenly maybe more. She could see the crowd on their feet, hear the thundering applause, feel the weight of the award plaque in her hands. See the shine of the gold medal as it extended towards her, only for a collective gasp to draw her attention away, away from her joy and towards a man’s face twisted in disgust and anger, the open jar in his hand flying towards her--

“Baby, baby, breathe. Breathe.”

Sasha blinks at Anetra’s voice. The music that had been playing on the radio came to an abrupt stop. Chopin’s Grande Polonaise Brillante. The piece she’d been trying to forget for three years. 

“You’re safe,” Anetra repeats, “It’s okay. I’m here.” 

Sasha feels the phantom pain fade, replaced by the prickle of hot tears at the corner of her eyes. It strikes her as incredibly ironic in a cruel way--of all the things that attacker had taken from her, he had somehow managed to miss her lacrimal ducts. Or maybe the surgeons had just saved them. She supposes she should be thankful--no, knows she should be. And she is, most of the time. 

It’s just that right now, she feels ugly all over again.

Sasha’s psychologist had encouraged her to start listening to Chopin again about six weeks ago. It had been extremely difficult at first; she barely made it through half of the Wrong Note Etude before Anetra had to step in and help Sasha calm down. But it had worked—slowly but surely, with Anetra by her side, she could make it through a playlist without needing to do much more than deep breathing. And even though sneak attacks from the radio were difficult, just picturing Anetra leading her through a breathing exercise was enough to help her come out the other side unscathed. 

“Would it help if I hold you?” Anetra asks, as if the answer isn’t almost always yes. Sasha nods anyway, leaning in for Anetra to wrap her in a hug.

“We can reschedule, you know--if it’s not a good day, I mean.” Anetra says quietly after a few minutes, stroking her fingers through Sasha’s hair like she knows she likes. It’s a tempting offer, but Sasha just shakes her head.

“We already reserved the music room,” she sighs. “Besides, if we waited for a good day…”

Anetra nods, not even needing Sasha to finish the sentence. They set today to reach this goal so that there would be a firm time, less room for Sasha to second-guess and back out just like the last two attempts.

She’s made up her mind--for better or for worse, she’s going to sit at a piano today.

“I think I’m okay now,” she pulls away from Anetra after another minute, heaving herself up to stand again. “I’ll go get ready.”

--

The drive to the community centre is relatively short, but feels like an eternity for Sasha. They drive in relative silence except for the occasional yawn or sneeze from Sasha’s guide dog Busby, a chocolate lab with as much personality as Sasha and Anetra combined. They don’t dare put on any music for fear that something upsetting might come on the radio, and Sasha can’t think of much to say, anyway. So she reaches her hand out into the back row for Busby to move towards and hit his snout up against, allowing the cold, damp feel of his nose to ground her. 

“We’re here,” Anetra advises as they turn into the parking lot, and for a second, Sasha falters. They’re doing this, they’re really doing this. it’s freeing to think of, yes, and she’s proud of herself, but… The battle’s not over yet. They’re still in the parking lot. They have to actually walk in, have to actually open the door to the music room, have to actually walk up and sit down and then what if the piano bench isn’t big enough for the both of them, what if there isn’t even enough space for Busby to sit by the piano and he has to stay by the door and so she’s trapped, trapped sitting on a bench because she doesn’t know her way around the room and Anetra will be far and Busby will be far and it’ll be a disaster--

“Hey.”

Sasha jolts to attention at the sound of Anetra’s voice and the feeling of her wife’s hand on her shoulder. 

“The room has an upright, I think it’s a Yamaha. It’s arranged on the far side of the room so there’s room to move around freely. The piano bench fits two and Busby can sit beside you.”

“How did you--” 

“I know you is how,” Anetra laughs. “I visited the room last week just to make sure all the logistics would be smooth for you. For us,” she adds, moving her hand down to grab Sasha’s and give it a comforting squeeze.

“I love you,” Sasha sighs, the warmth of gratitude and affection flooding her chest.

“I know,” Anetra says, and Sasha just knows she’s smiling. 

They walk into the community centre together, Sasha holding Anetra’s hand in an iron grip. Even though she can’t technically see, Sasha swears she can feel a million pairs of eyes watching them as they move through the building. She can’t decide which of her insecurities is worse; the bitter anger that people might see a mangle-faced freak with a victim for a partner, or the painful dread that they might see her as a pitiful charity case with a saint of a wife. If they even see Anetra that way; Sasha swears that every time they’ve been out since they came back from Poland, people have assumed Anetra was her aide instead of the love of her life.

“We’re here,” Anetra gives Sasha’s hand one more squeeze as they come to a stop, Busby guiding Sasha right to the door of the music room and pointing his nose to indicate the location of the doorknob. Not that he needs to; before Sasha can reach out for it, Anetra has swooped in ahead of her, throwing open the door and stepping aside with a theatrical ‘ milady.’

“You’re such a dork,” Sasha snorts, giggling a bit despite herself as she steps inside. It’s strange; maybe it’s because she can’t really see, but as she’s walking deeper into the room, nothing plays in her mind and there’s no anxiety in her chest. She knows there’s a piano, yes, but somehow, for a split second, she convinces herself that the room is empty, just a regular room with nothing special or scary in it.

That is until Busby guides her to the piano bench, allowing her knees to graze its edges, and her heart drops into her stomach. 

Breathe, Sash. Breathe . She closes her eyes and inhales shakily, imagining the things that make her feel calm just like her psychologist taught her. Listening to her favourite songs. Red velvet cake. Her family back in Hawai’i. The soft feeling of plumeria petals against her fingertips and sun-warmed sand between her toes. Her and Anetra’s honeymoon in Tahiti, making love under a deep orange sunset. 

“I’m coming beside you,” Anetra warns, careful not to disrupt Sasha’s fragile attempt at inner peace, for which Sasha is incredibly grateful. She relaxes a little further, opening her eyes by sheer force of habit so as not to feel surprised by the sudden warm presence of her wife beside her. 

“Take your time, angel,” Anetra murmurs, reaching for Sasha’s hand and giving it another squeeze. “We have the room for an hour, we can just stand here that whole time if that’s what you’re up to doing.” 

“If I do, Dr. Da Luca will make me come back again next week,” she jokes, even though it’s definitely true. Though Sasha supposes that she’ll have to come back next week regardless of whether she succeeds today or not; that’s the key to exposure, Dr. Da Luca keeps reminding her--consistency and repetition.

She’s trying not to think about that right now, though.

“Would it help if we put on music?” Anetra chances, and honestly, Sasha isn’t really sure, but she nods anyway, willing to try. She’s curious, anyway, what kind of music Anetra will pick--Anetra’s a mood-listener, someone who forgoes genre or artist to pick solely based off of the vibe she feels. And considering that Sasha has absolutely no idea what to call the vibe in this room right now, if Anetra can provide some clarification, well. She’s sure Dr. Da Luca would support that. 

“Remember when you taught me this song?” Sasha can hear the grin in Anetra’s voice as Go Tell Aunt Rhody starts playing off her phone, and Sasha can’t help it--she bursts into the kind of laughter she never would have thought she’d be capable of in this moment. 

 “Yeah, I remember,” she rolls her eyes, giving Anetra a playful shove on the shoulder, “It took you three days to get the hands-separate version even remotely acceptable. Which honestly was pretty impressive. Just, you know, for all the wrong reasons.” 

“Hey! I got it in the end, didn’t I?” Anetra protests in mock offense. “Pretty damn well, too, I would say. Hands together, even!” 

“And I was very proud,” Sasha giggles. 

“You know, I think I still remember it, actually,” Anetra continues pensively. “Move over, let me check this out--”

Before Sasha can even think about what’s happening, Anetra is plunking her way through something that sounds more like one of Busby’s more theatrical whines than any song Sasha’s ever tried to teach her. It’s absolute chaos, and as much as Sasha knows Anetra’s doing it on purpose, she also can’t help but try to step in.

“Oh my God, stop, that’s not how you do it--”

“Mhm,” Anetra’s hands come off the piano, her voice smug as it suddenly hits Sasha that she’s not standing anymore. She’s not hovering, not bending over to correct her wife. Instead, she’s… 

“Did I… Am I…?” 

“You did it, baby!” Anetra squeals, practically throwing herself onto Sasha and squeezing her tightly. “I’m so proud of you.

“Oh my God,” Sasha laughs in disbelief. Her heart is pounding, and her throat feels tight, but she did it--she really, actually did it. 

“How do you feel, sweetheart?” Anetra keeps hugging Sasha, holding onto her tightly as tears begin to gather at the corner of Sasha’s eyes again. She knows they’ll spill over if she tries to speak, so instead, she just puts her head on Anetra’s shoulder, sighing contentedly as Anetra brings a hand up to stroke her hair. 

“Neech?” she finally says after a few minutes, when the beating of her heart has fully calmed and her throat feels relaxed again. 

“Yes, angel?”

“Can you play it again?” Sasha buries her face deeper into Anetra’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of her perfume.

“Oh, you want a little bit more of this?” Anetra’s voice is dripping with mischief as she begins to bang on the keys again.

“Fuck off,” Sasha laughs. “No, for real this time. Just… play it again.”

So Anetra does, and it sounds absolutely beautiful. 

[n1c3c0ck]

some katari stuff because im thinking about Her

also heres a random pic of her that i took last night

- pre-heist, katari is a merc living with her output, lily, in their shared apartment in night city. she's best friends with jackie after having met him a year prior, and good friends with misty and viktor vektor. katari is also an exotic that wears the horns and tail of a dragon (her implants were designed by lily)

- best friends with johnny. johnny calls katari out for doing dumb shit, katari calls johnny out when hes being an ass. affectionately calls him her brain tumor that could

at first, katari fucking hated johnny. after she met with takemura in playing for time, she told johnny to take a long walk off a short cliff. she took these words back later.

- wears an eyepatch sometimes post heist. when viktor was digging around in katari’s head after takemura saved her, he had to do some surgical work around her right eye that left a scar. katari’s pretty self conscious about it atm so she either wears an eyepatch or her shades

speaking of takemura, katari is thankful that he saved her life but she does not trust him at all

- other friends include rogue, panam (partners in crime), judy (also partners in crime), kerry, river, and dum dum

- in love with lily. also used to work at their club after quitting her job at clouds

katari does inform lily that they have johnny silverhand's engram in their head. lily hates this. they have a conversation and katari admits that she regrets doing the heist with jackie in the first place, not only because he died, but because she would soon follow because of decisions she herself made.

- she permanently fucked up her back when she was a teenager. she worked her ass off for months to pay back her ripper for her new spine.

also permanently fucked up the joints in both of her hands as a teenager. again, also had to work her ass off to pay her ripper back for new finger joints.

- katari loves dragons. so much so that she replaced her optics and installed holographic, interchangeable horns and a tail on her body.

her optics arent entirely cosmetic. theyre also infrared and have different levels of zoom.

- always contemplating replacing her arms entirely. shes worried her body might reject it. a week after viktor & takemura save her life, she says “fuck it” and replaces them both.

- at the end of the game, katari is fully ready to give her body to johnny. at that point, she has accepted that the only solution to the relic problem involves one of them going back to her body - katari rationalizes that she has a very short time to live if she goes back to her body, while johnny has the rest of his life. katari would rather give johnny a second chance at life than struggle to hold on to her own. lily is angry af after this happens, and tells johnny to leave night city or they will kill him [lily took a page from rogue's book on this one].

before the end of the game, katari visits lily at their club and gives them a heartfelt goodbye. katari tells them shes "solving the relic issue once and for all." lily is understandably angry.

[themarcspector-hasmovedblogs]

☕ claudia daviau (m_rvel & dc c_mics & wip stuff)//👽 sidney ahmed (wip stuff) 🗡️ lunanera rosano (dc c_mics & wip stuff) //🧪 claudia rosano (m_rvel earth 65 comics)

got tagged by the cool @multiverse-of-themind (thanks!) to do this picrew & i had a lot of fun doing it.

tagging: @gothamrains / @fayelistic / @deathlessfable / @moonsaints / @thelittlestspider / @theaisstillhere / @elizabethtaylors / @youngsamanda / @outfromthesea @girlhello and anyone else who wants to do it!

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Could you maybe write something with dark dark Steve who has a huge size kink and crying kink and loves to humiliate?

School Days

Note: sorry it took so long. been kinda down. also hope i did OK with humiliation.

Summary: Co-worker makes you feel uncomfortable.

Warning: 18+Only, short reader, size kink, crying kink, humiliation kink, non consent, forced fingering and cock warming i think

Dark Coach Steve x Short Teacher Reader

📚

You had always had a love of teaching. Growing up your friends would always groan when it was your turn to pick what to play, because you always chose to play school.

You knew exactly what you wanted to do when you got to college. You wanted to shape young minds. It was fascinating watching them grow and learn right before your very eyes.

Shelby elementary hired you two years after you received all of your certificates. Replacing their beloved Mrs.Pepper Potts after she moved out of town with her husband.

You taught first graders. You preferred teaching the lower grades. The higher grades were a bit difficult. Competing for attention when most of the students where dealing with raging hormones proved an exhausting endeavor. Your short stature became a reoccurring issue too. During your student teacher days you realized the taller they got the more they seemed to not take you seriously.

At least working with the lower grades you were less likely to be confused as a student. You had lost track of how many times you were stopped in the hall by a colleague. With the lower grades you towered over your class and commanded respect with little effort.

📚

You felt exhausted. Your first parent teacher meeting was over. It was endearing and encouraging that so many parents had so many concerns about the development of their little ones. But their critiques on your credentials didn't fail to strike a nerve, an issue new teachers faced all the time. You smiled through it as you normally did. Letting them have their back handed remarks as you answered and waited out the clock.

When it was all over you needed a drink. You cleared up the mess they left for you, a preview of what to expect from their spawn.

When everything was in its place you tackled the blackboard. Taking out your stool you stood on tip toes erasing. You had the bright idea of outlining your curriculum on the board for all the parents to view. It was hard getting it all on the massive board, but with your step stool you got as high as you could go.

"Hey! Whoa you know that's dangerous." A voice rushed to your side as your stool tilted.

"Are you OK little one?" he asked helping you down.

God he's tall. You barely came eye to eye with his chest. You tensed in his arms and when he realized his mistake he released you.

"Oh sorry" he rubbed the back of his head slightly embarrassed. "I'm Steve Rogers." He reached out a hand for you to shake. You took it and introduced yourself. His firm grip swallowed your hand, when he squeezed you held in the hurt from the pressure.

Steve's presence was intimidating despite the smile he wore. When he released your hand, you took as step back, but he stepped forward.

He is just a close talker. Don't over analyze.

"Sorry again with your clothes I just assumed you were..." He motioned at your clothing.

Taking inspiration from Ms Frizz, your favorite animated teacher, you always wore colorful puffy skirts that depicted various things related to education or fairy tails. The look kept the attention of the youngsters, but it certainly didn't look childish.

"It's OK, but I am afraid you are a bit late for the meeting."

Spinning away you move to the other side of your desk to give yourself more space. "If you wouldn't mind filling in your information, encase of emergencies or special needs. I know you probably filled it out for the front office, but I like to have my own copy." You explained as you handed him a pen and the piece of construction paper with the other parents info.

He took it and filled it out. "I just erased the curriculum, but I can email you a copy."

"Did you also used to teach at Camdien?" Steve inquired, bending over your desk as he wrote. While you waited you packed up your belongings.

"Um yes I was a student teacher there. Did you have a child there too?"

"I coached there actually. Well was." He rose and approached you. Slipping your purse straps on your shoulder, you tried to remember if you seen his face before. You didn't recognize it. As striking as he was you doubted you would forget it.

But the athletic department lived in a world separate from the teachers. Their multiple championships brought in funding that went to their brand new athletic facility. The highly coveted building allowed them to live above the peasant class of the faculty. You had even heard a nonsensical rumor that they even had a Starbucks and onsite masseuse.

When he handed it back you reached out, but Steve pulled the paper just out of reach. Hovering it over your head like a bully playing keep away. You huff and frown after two attempts. You were not a child and would not be treated as such. Pursing your lips you made a move to leave. You would just go through the admin office to get the information.

"Aw don't pout, but I must say you do look adorable when you do." He smiled down at you as he blocked your retreat. His wholesome grin did not match the darkness in his eyes. There was a disconnect somewhere. You felt like a mouse before a lion. Were the other teachers like this? You were so eager to get started working you did little research in the school that so swiftly hired you. "Here you go."

Snatching the paper away you say, "thank you." It sounded slightly annoyed, but you did your best to choke down the edge.

Unhooking the lip of your bag you placed it with the others as his shadow clouded you. Ignoring it you side step him.

"Yeah I remember. I used to see you at Camdien." Steve recalled, blocking you once more. You stopped just short of bumping into him as you closed your bag. "Cute little thing, roaming the halls." Steve informed you, stepping closer once more, making you take a step back. The alarm bells blared in your head at that comment.

"Boy wasn't I relieved I wasn't crossing the line with all the thoughts I had." He chuckled as your back hit the chalkboard. You had to strain your neck to look him in the eye this close.

The principal was making his rounds soon. He wouldn't try anything right?

"Mr. Rogers-"

"Coach" he interrupted. He didn't touch you but that fact gave you very little relief. You felt your nails dig into your palm as you gripped the thin strap of your bag. Your arm the only barrier between you two. "Just call me Coach."

"Rogers!" Your saving grace, Principal Barnes, exclaimed from the door. Steve's body blocked you from James. "There you are. Nice to see your getting to know your colleagues."

"Yeah, just sharing stories from Camdien" Steve stepped aside to greet Principal James. His hand landed on the top of your head, messing your hair as he patted you playfully like a dog. You swallowed the discomfort as he moved to talk to James. You gathered the rest of your things as they focused their attention on each other.

"Oh yeah I forgot you both came from their."

You took that opportunity to make your exit. Walking fast mumbling a 'goodnight,' you bolted toward the door. They replied back, but you ignored it, allowing their chatter to fade the further down the hall you got.

📚

The first week of school was hectic. Lost students, late students, little accidents here and there, it ran the gambit. But nothing worried you more than P.E. period.

Steve was listed as your classes gym teacher and made the drop-off a chore. It surprised you how increasingly inappropriate he was becoming. Always stretching out your name flirtatiously in front of the children causing them to taunt you with 'OOO's, and pepper you with questions about the nonexistent relationship until you departed.

They stayed in line as you approached the double doors that led to the gymnasium. He was there, dressed in his sweat pants, gym shirt and the whistle dangled from his lips.

As you ushered them inside he caught site of you as he wrangled another group and smirked. It was unnerving especially when your students egged him on by making kissy noises loudly when they noticed him too. On one occasion he sent a note with one of your students asking you out. You ignored it.

You should've reported him you know, but what would they say 'Oh he was just being friendly' or any number of things to justify his behavior. You'd been in enough situations to know without evidence that met their standards nothing would happen.

📚

In the teachers lounge Steve made his presence known. You stared at your custom coffee mug as it sat high on the edge of the third shelf. You had half a mind to take and break his, as it taunted you from the first. You were growing more and more tired of his antics. This wasn't the first time and you knew it wouldn't be the last.

Two arms planted themselves on either side of you as something rested on your head.

It was him you knew it. Who else would it be?

"Need some help little one?" He hummed.

"God damn it Steve get off me" you barked You elbowed him, but the mountain of a man didn't budge.

"No need to be nasty."

You felt him push you into the counter, crushing you against it as he reached for your cup on the high shelf.

"Here you go" he said placing it daintily in front of you.

Calm down don't blow your lid he is doing this to fuck with you.

"Shouldn't you be watching my class?" You asked as you waited for him to move out of your way.

"Student teacher got me covered. You remember what that's like? Give them the work while we teachers kick back and relax."

He backed away allowing you to get the coffee, but stayed glued to your side. You ignored him, pulling out your phone and flopped on the couch, waiting for gym time to end.

Steve of course sat next to you crowding you into the corner. He boldly placed a hand on your thigh, you brushed it off, cursing at him to 'go away'. If you got up he would only follow so you crossed your legs and leaned into the arm of the couch. Don't let him get to you.

Steve stretched out his arm on the back of the couch. Even sitting next to you he towered over you. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you in snugly. Your head resting against his tone chest. "God your so adorable."

"Steve!" you almost shriek at him as his other hand slyly crept under your skirt. "Jesus Christ what the hell is wrong with you."

You try to stand suddenly, but get jerked back down. Landing in the same awkward situation as before.

"Fuck you let me go" you hissed at him. He only chuckled as you tried to stop his hand from advancing up your skirt again. You became panicked the further he got.

Clamping your thighs tightly together as he wedged between your crossed legs. Your eyes shifted to the door before you, the couch sat across from the only entrance. If anyone came in they surely would be under the wrong assumptions.

His arm refused to budge as you attempted to pry him away. Steve was nothing but muscle, struggling was getting you no where, each shift pressed him hard against your sensitive area.

📚

"You know I've been nothing, but nice to you" Steve sounded disappointed.

"Stop please" you sounded panicked and desperate. Your nails dug into his arm as you tried to fight back an ache that taunted you as he teased.

"But you always give me attitude." He stated casually.

You slapped him. The sound loud in the empty room. Your eyes blurred with tears of frustration. Your hit did nothing, only leaving his cheek red, but from the smile on his face he liked it.

"And violent too. Hope you don't act that way around your class" he tsked while poking hard at the growing wet spot. You felt your spine curve and breath become heavier, your toes curled in your shoes as he increased his friction.

"Oh look at you. You like that don't you" he teased rubbing circles after noticing the tension in your legs relax. You cocked back to slap him again, but stopped when you felt his other hand at the back of your neck. It squeezed softly, but it was a warning nonetheless. You felt defeated. Not only was Steve bigger than you, he was stronger. Tears of frustration finally fell as you lowered your hand and let him do as he pleased.

"God your even cuter when you cry." He preened. "Tell you what. Since we don't have that much time....Kiss me and I will stop." You bristled as you felt him peel your panties to the side.

He didn't wait for your reply. Steve crashed his lips on to yours without warning. You flinched expecting pain, but it was soft. It was so tender that with anyone else they would given and close their eyes, accept it, but you couldn't.

"Stop..Steve.. Please" You panted over his lips, pushing at his chest as his fingers pushed into you. He didn't stop, the kiss only embolden him to go further. You whimpered and moaned as he took from you.

"Give me your panties" he asked pulling away from you, but his fingers still curled inside. "You promised you'd stop" you remind him, wiping away tears.

He wasn't going to relent, you could tell by the determination in his eyes. You felt exposed and embarrassed. Anyone could walk in at any moment and he knew it. He would probably get a slap on the wrist while you would need to find employment else where to escape the shame.

"I promise this time" he said lowly. "No tricks."

Swallowing your pride you lifted in your seat, he moved just enough to let the fabric pass. Rolling them down your knees quickly you hand them over. His hands slipped from you as you pass it. He held them up to the light and examined the wetness he created. Wiping away tears, you stood and bolted toward the door, but stopped when Steve whistled loudly.

"I think you forgot something."

You turned to find him pointing at your discarded mug.

"If you leave it, I leave this in it", he waved your shame in the air.

"Don't forget to wash it....don't want it to leave a stain" he ordered from the couch. You walked back on edge. Snatching the mug from the other side of the table. You rushed to the sink and rinsed your cup. More tears fell as you felt the wetness between your legs. The mirror mounted above the sink allowed you to examine yourself. Your mascara bled a bit and lipstick smeared, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with a dab of a napkin.

You swore to never step foot in the lounge ever again. If you needed to eat you would do it in your car or at your desk. This was supposed to be a magical time for you, but with Steve it had turned into a nightmare.

You sniffed as you blinked away the tears, forcing yourself to stop crying. Gym time was almost over and you needed to pull yourself together and collect your class.

"You know how often I wonder about you" Steve said rising from the couch, you watched him carefully from the mirror. You fumbled your mug, the water splashing back at you.

"Steve you promised" you said meekly, utterly defeated. He stared at you through the mirror, you felt his eyes watch your discomfort as you picked up the cup.

"What would the parents think if they knew their kids teacher walks around the class with no panties on" he tutted. You hung your head low and noticed your panties balled up in his hand as he rested it on the counter.

"I also wonder" He said pressing you into the sink. You felt his resolve through his sweat pants. "Do you fit?"

Fit?

Then it became clear. You felt his cock against your backside. You tried frantically to flea, but Steve caught you by the neck.

"I'm willing to bet you can't even fit half of me inside" he whispered in your ear as he bent you over the sink, crushing. "If I'm wrong I will let you go." Your eyes rounded as he hauled up your skirt. You whimpered as the cool air of the staff room tickled your exposed rear.

Steve was really going to fuck you in the staff room. These walls were paper thin and he knew it. Your head swirled in panic as you pleaded with him to stop. He only chuckled and shimmied down his sweat pants as you swatted back at him.

He angled and aligned himself as you sobbed. The tip slipped through your wet thighs, finding the target of its need.

You choked down a guttural moan as he breathed out 'good girl'. He watched your face as every inch stretched through your insides.

"Its is too much" you gasped out, trembling from the pressure, dancing on your tip toes as you adjusted around him.

"Its all inside" he praised the accomplishment. Forcing you to look at the mirror. "You fit me so good...see."

The mirror reflected your assault to your horror. "All cute holding me inside, taking everything I got" he said while stretching you.

Shooting pains radiated from your core as sharp breaths escaped you.

"Look at you" he taunted "coming apart just for me.... "

You heard the door to the room open and close quickly as you panted wildly. Steve didn't pull out, unabashed, letting whomever take in his pale ass as he continued to stuff you.

You didn't know who saw you, you only hoped his massive body hid you and your shame.

📚

[writteninkat]

Switched | Itadori Yuji x reader x Sukuna

summary: fucking yuji means a passionate night until sukuna decides to be an asshole and switches with your boyfriend half way through sex.

F!reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: 18+, name calling

author's note: i've been thinking of this since i last closed the app and i knew i just had to write it

You've been horny all night.

Your boyfriend, Itadori Yuji, is wearing a simple plain white dress shirt which he folded up right below his elbows. He has two buttons undone and the shirt is tucked in black dress pants, his long legs causing for his ankles to show right above the black boat shoes he has on his feet.

He finished the look with a white silver watch on his left wrsit. Honestly? You could feel your cunt already dripping just by the way your boyfriend looked while the two of you were still at the apartment.

As the group; Nobara, Gojo, Nanami and Yuji sang happy birthday for Megumi, you're busy rubbing your thighs together, proving for the action to be a bit more difficult than it actually is when you're seated.

Megumi blows his candles and everyone cheers, clapping their hands as they begin to dig into the food. You try distracting yourself, scooping in a few scoops of food on your plate but it is all for naught when Yuji leans over, giving you a chance to get a whiff of his cologne.

A strong strawberry scent with a little bit of sweet vanilla and a hint of bold wood. The scent doesn't smell like it goes everywhere at all- it all smells so good together. Yuji uses his chopsticks to place some strips of beef on your food, your gaze immediately on his forearm- veins feintly protruding from under his light skin. The silver around his wrist doesn't help at all and it makes you feel as if you are this horny teenager again.

"Eat up." Yuji smiles, his eyes smiling with him. You force your lips to stretch, sending him a big smile back before eating your food, deciding to forget all about your thoughts by stuffing food in your mouth.

It works.

Well, more or less. You haven't had a single dirty thought about your boyfriend ever since uou began eating, and now Nobara is currently singing her heart off as Gojo and the birthday boy himself are dozing side by side on the end of the couch. Nanami is busying himself by sipping on his drink, a smile feint on his lips as he watches and listens to Nobara sing, looking like how a proud father would.

Your boyfriend, on the other hand, doesn't look too good.

"You okay, babe?" You ask, leaning in to squeeze his forearm softly. He snaps out what seems to be in a caging gaze he was in, looking at you. Yuji smiles, hand fluing on yours to give it a good, reassuring squeeze. "I'm good, baby. Just a little tired, I guess."

You furrow your brows, definitely not buying his lies. "Just tell me. The faster you tell me the faster we can solve the problem." You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

Yuji's eyes slowly and uncontrollably begin traveling down your chest, gaze glossing over your evident cleavage, moving again even much lower, his eyes taking note of how the black dress you're wearing is hugging every curve on your body perfectly.

Yuji leans in, his strong cologne scent causing the butterflies in your stomsch to go insane. "That dress has been driving me crazy the whole night." Your boyfriend's hot breath fans over the shell of your ear, casuing goosebumps to rise all over your body. "Take it off for me, please?"

You breath in a deep and shaky breath, closing your eyes to try and convince yourself not to strip naked in front of your friends and teachers right here on the spot. You stand up abruptly, catching Nanami's attention.

"We gotta go, Yuji has a really bad stomach ache." The corners of your mouth pull down into a fake frown which Nanami buys, nodding his head and waving the both of you off. You take Yuji's hand and pull him out of the Kareoke room, your heels loud as you stomp your way out of the building and to the parking lot.

As you find your car, you pull the front seat's door open only for it to be closed shut again by your boufriend. Yuji pulls you closer by your waist, making you can feel how hard he is inside his pants.

"We're not doing it here."

"My car's windows are tinted." He bites on your ear.

You keep telling yourself not to do it, to just wait until the both of you gets home but Itadori jr. seems to be having other plans for tonight. You sigh, walking over to the back door and pulling it open. As soon as you bend over to get in, Yuji pushes you and slams the door behind him.

The cold winter nights of Japan has the interior of the car all cool and comfortable. Yuji spins you around by your waist, running both of his hands on either sides of your waist. He breathes out deeply, eyes scanning hungrily over your form. His hands begin to make their way down your thighs, he leans in to give you a soft peck on the lips. Yuji looks into your eyes at first before leaning back in to envelope you into a deep kiss, his tongue skillfully brushing and sliding against yours as he sucks on it softly. His breathing his ragged as he feels your body all over, your legs instinctively opening and moving up his hips. Yuji presses his hard member against your clothed cunt, grinding on it for some kind of friction before pulling away when he feels just how soaked you are down there.

He reaches a hand under your dress, pressing two fingers on your wet cunt making you mewl. You've been holding it in for too long and now you're just very sensitive. The corner of his mouth twitches up, "Have you been wet for me the entire night, baby?"

You don't trust your voice, you can't. You know it'll sound needier than you actually are, you know it'll set Yuji off to start teasing you, so you nod your head, your face contorting as you feel him slip a finger between your folds.

He leans forward, hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin on the side of your neck. Yuji's warm tongue runs up the skin once, twice- he's adding another digit into your wet hole and you almost cum at the spot when he nibbles on your soft skin.

"I'll take very good care of you tonight." He presses his soft lips on the nibbled part of the skin, slowly trailing kisses up to your cheek and finally back onto your lips.

You couldn't think straight- your head was full of the boy. You absolutely loved about him; his strawberry pink hair, when he smiles with his eyes, how he can never go through a day without cuddling you at least once, how he does his best to give you anything you want, how he's one of your biggest inspirations in life. This boy- no, this man is someone you can imagine waiting for you at the end of the isle, hot tears streaming down his face as he waits for you at the end of the path, looking at you as if you were the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on- yes, even more beautiful than Jennifer Laurence.

Aoi would be right beside him, rubbing a hand on his back as he tries to soothe his best friend's sobs.

You snap out of your daze when you notice your boyfriend looking deeply into your eyes, a soft blush caressing his cheeks as he studies your face ever so lovingly. "I love you." You tell him.

His blush darkens as he leans into you, pressing his lips once again on yours. "I love you too." You feel the head of his cock press against your entrance for a bit before entering you completely.

You let out a soft whine, arching your back as your lips are trapped between your teeth. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of your boyfriend slowly pushing his entire length inside you, getting you feeling so full of him. "Yuji..." Your voice sounds so lewd, so needy and whiny for him that the sound of it makes you blush. You feel him stop moving once he's inside you fully, and at first you think he's letting you adjust to his size. That is, until he pulls his head back and your gaze falls onto the black lines all over his face. The soft look that once inherited your boyfriend's face is now replaced by a smug, cocky one. He has a smirk on that tells you to push him off and quickly get out of the car- but why don't you?

Instead, you feel yourself clenching around him even more. The look on his face has you dripping wet, your nipples hardening underneath your dress and the butterflied in your stomach going crazy as ever.

"Can't believe that little boy would keep you all to himself." His voice isn't Yuji's- no. It's much deeper, darker, more dangerous. He looks down at your apalled expression, his smirk growing even bigger. He leans over, pushing your legs up to your chest and forcing you down into a mating press. "What's my name, princess?"

You can feel your heart beating rapidly against your chest, your breathing shaky and your head clouded. Without even thinking about it, your mouth moves on their own and out comes your whimpering voice.

"Sukuna."

The curse pulls away with a wide grin, pulling his hips out before thrusting his cock inside you again, the tip of his cock hitting the same spot as it did before. Sukuna's hips are relentlessly thrusting inside you, abusing your needy hole as you moan loudly for more.

His hand finds its way to your boob and you feel something hot and wet lap itself over your hardened nipple. You look down to see the mouth on his hand grinning cockily like him. It wraps itself around your nipple, sucking on the bud and biting on it softly making your eyes rolls back to your head.

You feel something coil up inside your stomach, your mouth opening as you feel yourself slowly reach your high. "I-I'm so, fucking, clo-" Sukuna thrusts his hips hardly once, causing your toes to curl and your body to shake as you move your hips to ride out your orgasm. Heavy breaths fill the car as your legs grow limp on either side of his body and your eyelids become heavier.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?" Sukuna squeezes your cheeks, making your eyelids lift open. He hooks his arm around your back, pulling you along with him as he sits up.

Your eyes widen and back arches when you feel electricity run up your spine. Sukuna lifts a brow, his hands on either side of your hips, preventing you from lifting them. "Too full!" You whimper out, tears forming on the corners of your eyes as you swallow a large lump down your throat.

"Hah?" He tilts his head to the side, "But I haven't even came yet." You feel him roll his hips once, but it was all it took to have you digging your nails on his shoulders. "I'll pull out when I cum. But for now," He lowers his head to take your nipple by his mouth, his fingers pinching and playing with the other one. ",focus on making me feel good, princess."

Your eyes clench shut asbyou focus on the feeling of his hard member inside your dripping cunt. You move your hips once, you feel goosebumps all over your body. You move your hips a second time and you're wanting to feel that same friction again. You move your hips a third and you're letting your desires take over.

You hump on Sukuna's cock sloppily and roughly, the car is shaking. Sukuna let's out soft groans and moans, the constant "love feeling your cunt around my cock like this" whispered and growled into your ear. His eyes travel down to your chest, eyes gleaming when he sees your boobs bouncing in sync with everytime you hump on him.

When he looks back at you, all his other sense go numb. The sight of you with your tongue out your mouth, you drool dripping down your tongue, your face flushed and your eyes crossed together at the feeling of it being so good has him gripping on your hips tightly. "You're a fucking slut, aren't ya?" He begins thrusting himself inside you and you moan loudly, your toes curling at the feeling of his sac slapping against your skin. "Aren't ya?!" He yells and all you could do is whimper as you nod your head. He's fucking you so dumb you couldn't form coherent words.

He rolls his hips as he thrusts them, making sure you feel every single inch of him inside you. Your moans are in sync with his thrusts, feeling your breath being knocked out of your system with every thrust the curse does.

Your hand flies up your mouth, trying to surpress the loud moans that keep slipping out of your lips but Sukuna wraps his hand around your wrist, pulling your hand away.

"Scream for me, come on princess. Let him know who's fucking you so good right now." His voice is low and deep, it drives you to the edge, almost pushing you off. "Wh-who? Who's him?" You ask, forcing your eyes to open as you look down at Sukuna- your eyebrows raise in surprise at the sight of the black lines on your boyfriend's face gone.

Yuji looks up at you with eyes holding such lust. He has a straight expression on as he looks into your eyes, kind of hypnotising you as he thrusts into you, leading the both of you to your highs.

"Wh-what happened to Sukuna-"

"Why are you looking for him." Yuji's voice is covered in coldness. He combs his fingers on the back of your head and throughyour hair, curling them into a fist as he pulls on your hair. "He's not the one fucking you right now, I am." His thrusts start becoming more aggressive, hinting at you that he's already close.

"You'll cum around my cock a second time and you'll be moaning my name out as loud as you can. Got it?" Yuji growls onto your neck. His other hand grabs onto your hip and begins thrusting into you faster than before. You feel something snap inside you, your orgasm causing your toes to curl and your fingernails to be dug onto your boyfriend's skin. "Y-Yuji!" Your hips shake as you begin rolling them around, riding out your orgasm.

"That's not my name right now, princess." You look back down only to feel your heart drop at the sight of the black lines all over his face. "S-S-Sukuna! Sukuna!" You moan out, your chest rising and falling exceptionally. You hear him chuckle before feeling him pull out, shooting his hot seed all over your naked cunt.

You look back up, checking to see who's who right now. You smile when you see it's your boyfriend. You press your forehead on his shoulder as you try to calm yourself down. You feel his arms wrap themselves around you as the two of you bask in each other's presence.

"You gotta stop doing that, it fucks up with my brain." You mumble onto his chest which only leaves you with a lighthearted chuckle. "But Sukuna says he doesn't want to be left out."

"Whatever, Sukuna can go fuck off." You mumble sleepily.

"Why don't you fuck me yourself, princess?" A deeper and much darker voice speaks up and you curse yourself mentally.

navigation

[cno-inbminor]

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

[myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants]

A/N: I would like to preface this by letting everyone know that I am in no way knowledgeable about actual science things. That being said I am amazed that in a random draw I actually managed to get a prompt that had to do with flowers lol. This is my contribution to the BakuHarem Collab! Please take a second to check out the other contributions here!

Warning: bad science, no protection, swearing, overs!mulation, accidental exhibti0som, intoxicated smut? idk sex pollen is a drug i guess.....

W/C: 3.5k

“Bakugou, dude. We should not-”

“Shut up Kirishima!” Bakugou walks through the sterile hallways checking every corner for signs of other people. “That bitch took my top spot with some bullshit flowers?!” He finally gets to the lab that was granted to you for your research. After winning first place, stealing first place in the UA university science expo. He walks into the observing lobby, looking through the large window to make sure you weren’t working in the lab after hours.

“Just keep quiet and listen for any one coming this way.” He walks over to the security door and holds his key card up to it, the light on the scanner turns green and he hears the dead bolt slide open.

Kirishima is lingering behind him, hovering in the doorway. He turns to Bakugou to talk him out of this again but his friend has already entered the lab. “Ahh geez.” He didn’t even wear any safety gear.

As the door clicks shut behind him, Bakugou stops to examine the lab. Several different species of flowers in full bloom behind temperature controlled enclosures. Some of them are recognizable; lavender, chamomile, and jasmine. “I thought it would smell like the perfume department, this fuckin place smells like heaven.” Guess it wasn’t a new shampoo she was using then.

He walks through the aisles turning his head this way and that, trying to find something, anything that he can fuck up without it being overtly obvious. He gets to the back corner of the lab and sees a piece of familiar equipment. “Perfect.”

*****

“He said WHAT?!”

Your roommate flinches at your reaction to her news. “He told Professor Aizawa that your ‘Viagra flowers’ are a joke to the science department and they should ‘wither and die’.”

You’re fuming. That fuck tard Bakugou, mister my shit don’t stink is ridiculing my research? “All that man knows is how to blow shit up! Just cause I beat him in the expo this year, he thinks my research is a joke?!” You stand up from the couch, pacing in front of it and you can’t decide whether to scream or cry. “Why did I ever like that twat?”

Cause he has wide shoulders, big hands and scarlet eyes that -

“Oh for the love of god shut up.” Screw your inner thoughts.

Ochako watches you pace, worrying in her eyes when yours line with silver and your neck flushes bright red. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that.”

You stop moving and look at her, guilt flooding through you as she slumps forward. “Don’t apologize, I was talkin to myself babe.” She nods her head weakly and you stand up straight “I’m gonna go.” You walk to the door grabbing your coat and key card.

“W-where are you going?” Ochako follows you to the door and grabs your wrist gently. You turn to her and smile, she was always so sweet but you knew that if shit went down she would be right beside you, kicking ass.

“I need to blow off some steam, so I’m gonna go check on my ‘Viagra flowers’.” She huffs a laugh and let's go.

“Alright, don’t stay too late.”

You nod, put on your shoes and leave the dorm. It’s a bit of a walk to the building the lab is in and hopefully the cool breeze will calm your mind.

*****

As you walk into the building you are grateful that your professor is more of a night owl than most students. Considering how many naps he takes during lectures it is no wonder he can’t sleep at night. You contemplate going to his office to say hi but think better of it.

Don’t wanna end up venting about Bakugou to my professor of all people.

You walk down the hallway and notice the door to your lab is cracked. Not unusual, a lot of students from your class have been coming and going to see the different species of flowers and plants you are growing. Assuming someone didn’t shut the door behind them you take your phone out of your pocket to check the time. Out of the corner of your vision a quick flash of red and you walk right into Kirishima, Bakugou’s friend and one of your classmates.

“Hey! How- how's it goin?”

You take a step back, rubbing your nose from face planting into his giant chest. Does this guy eat boulders for breakfast? “Hey Kiri! Just gonna do some late night tests! You checkin out my garden?”

“Yeah! Flowers are pretty.” He laughs, it’s high pitched and obviously forced.

You take in his nervous appearance, the fact that he is still standing in front of the door and your mood sours.

“Where is he?”

Kirishima looks like he is gonna try and stall but one look at the fury in your eyes and his head hangs down. “He’s in the lab,” you rush past him and punch in the code to open the door. “I tried to talk him out of it!”

The door clicks shut and the spiky blonde huffs in annoyance somewhere in the back of the lab.

“I told you shitty hair, if you’re gonna keep a look out you have to stand outside.”

You clear your throat and his head shoots up. You walk over to him, taking note of all of the plants and equipment, taking note of anything that looks different. As you get closer to him you notice that he smells particularly good tonight.

Keep it in your pants idiot

“Really Bakugou?” You stop a few steps away from him, noticing the various disassembled parts on the counter top behind him. “What were you gonna do, break my extraction equipment and make it look like a malfunction? Are you a B-Movie villain?”

He stands up and you are reminded of how small you feel next to him, wide shoulders, arms barely fitting the t-shirt he was wearing, strong chest that tapers to a toned waist. He laughs and you look at his face. What I wouldn’t give to just lick from your navel to your neck.

“A B-Movie villain huh? That’s rich coming from the fanfiction cliché scientist.” He crosses his arms, your eyes quickly dart to the sight of his biceps flexing with the movement then back at him.

“Fanfiction cliché? What the actual fuck are you talking about?” You take another step towards him, softly inhaling his scent. Why does he smell so good?

He laughs at you again, the sound caresses your skin and you realize your feeling very, very hot. You drag your fingers through your hair, your eyes zeroing in on a bead of sweat running down the side of his face. When you lick your lips and shift to take another step closer a small part of your brain connects the dots. “What. Did. You. Do?”

Bakugou looks at you, noticing your flushed cheeks and eyes that show you aren’t quite your normal smart and sexy self. Reaching behind himself you hear the unmistakable sound of clinking glass, he grabs a beaker, an open beaker. “Just grabbed this from your equipment, I know how long it takes to extract this stuff. Would suck if it were to suddenly go missing.”

“You idiot! Do you know how potent it is in that form?!” You reach for it but he pulls the beaker out of your reach. “Why do you think I keep it enclosed? You have to close it up now!”

“Why should I?”

Honestly how stupid can this guy get?!

“Put it back in the enclosure first and I’ll explain it to you!” Your breathing is getting heavy, the closer you get to Bakugou the hotter your body feels. You lunge for him again and trip, he hurries to put the beaker on the table behind him and catch you. Put off balance from the position you both crash to the floor with him underneath you. Sighing in frustration you lift yourself up only to bump your head on the table, knocking over the beaker and spilling the extract over you both.

“Shit!” You scramble off of him and run to the door, pressing the exposure button and effectively locking it. You turn to Bakugou and back up trying your best to keep your distance. “Stay on that side of the room, if we’re far enough apart the effects won’t be as bad.”

“What are the effects?” The question is spoken so calmly that you almost convince yourself he didn’t speak at all.

“What are the fucking side effects!?” His shirt is soaked, sticking to his tanned skin. The outline of his chiseled body makes your mouth go dry. You look back at his face, his mouth twisted in frustration at your silence but no less attractive. The sharp angle of his jawline, pink lips slightly chapped, aristocratic nose, scarlet eyes that-

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Shaking your head to clear some of the fog in your brain, you focus on him again.

“It’s an aphrodisiac so obviously it enhances sexual desire.”

“Yeah-yeah, sex pollen I get it. But what else?” he rings out the bottom of his shirt, lifting it slightly and you avert your eyes.

“It is not sex pollen, I don’t even use the pollen of the plant.” the last part coming out in a mumble. “The aphrodisiac only works on people who are consenting adults that are attracted to each other.” You clear your throat.

Bakugou freezes for a moment and looks up at you, examining you. The flushed skin, short breaths, and how you keep as much distance between the two of you as the small lab provides.

“So why are you so far away then?” The smirk on his face is sinful as all hell.

Cheeky bastard.

“Surely I don’t have to spell it out for you.” Resisting the urge to turn your face away from him like a pouty child..

“HA!” The smug look on his face momentarily lifts the cloud of lust and replaces it with anger. “Of course you’re attracted to me, who wouldn’t be?”

“Well, aren't you a cocky bastard?” Hoping you're not about to embarrass yourself you take a chance and muster up some courage. Slowly walking up to him you notice that his forehead is glistening with sweat, his breathing heavy, ears and back of his neck flushed with pink. “Tell me, Katsuki. How are you feeling?”

A few steps and you can see his hands balled up in white knuckled fists, a few more his jaw clench and unclench. Once you are only an arms length away you can see him swallow harshly, Adam's apple bobbing, nostrils flaring. You push your breasts against his toned chest, the light friction causing a moan to escape your mouth, the sound going straight to his cock.

“I’m - I’m fine.” Bakugou clears his throat, the sound of his first name from your lips sweeter than it should be.

“Lookin a little flushed, you feeling hot?”

He doesn’t answer, his attention captured by the closeness of your body, your lips, the tops of your breasts peeking out of the v neck top you’re wearing.. He stops breathing when your tongue flicks out to lick your bottom lip.

“Cat got your tongue?”

On impulse his hands move to rest on your hips, eyes never leaving your lips. “What was the question again?”

“How. Are. You. Feeling.” you walk your fingers up his chest with each word before pulling his head down so you can whisper in his ear, the anger fading fast. “Katsuki.” You hear him growl, the sound reverberating through your core, then you're being picked up.

“I’m gonna ruin you.” Bakugou crashes his lips to yours, pressing you up against one of the walls and bracing you with one hand so that the other can wrap around your throat. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.” He bites your lip, licking it to soothe the hurt. “Smart, funny, sexy, beautiful.”

You whine at the words and grind against the bulge in his pants, your pussy throbbing with need. “Need to feel you touch me Bakugou.” He stops moving and you shift to try and grind against him again but he holds you tight, slightly squeezing the sides of your neck.

“What happened to calling me by my first name, baby girl?” Loosening his hand and crouching down as if to put you down you sputter out “Kat-Katsuki Please touch me.”

The feral grin on his face has your pussy drooling and you all but sigh in relief when he stands up straight and slips a hand under your shirt, cupping one of your breasts. “Oh god yes.”

“You’re so soft baby,” he pulls one of the cups down and rolls your nipple in between his fingers. “Take off your shirt, wanna see those pretty tits.”

Katsuki keeps playing with your nipple when you rip your shirt off, making short work of your bra and tossing it. As soon as the other nipple is in view he dives down to suckle it, his mouth hot. You throw your head back, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pushing your chest out to give him better access.

He is merciless in his teasing, alternating between breasts, making sure to suck each nipple till they are both hard peaks. Kissing the top of your soft globes, your collarbone and neck, everywhere his mouth goes is left with a mark in varying shades of red and purple.

You grow impatient with him, needing to make him feel as good wanting to feel him with your hands, mouth, teeth.

“Wanna feel you too Katsuki.” you whine as he pinches one nipple while nibbling the other one. When you pull on his hair a little he groans but lifts his head, pulling both nipples with him before letting them go.

“What do ya wanna feel, baby girl?”

With all your inhibitions throw out the window you lean down and whisper in his ear. “Wanna feel you fuck me.”

You pull away and he quickly sets you down, you’re about to object when he takes his shirt off in one smooth motion then starts unbuttoning his jeans. You rush to follow, unzipping your pants and pulling them down, before you can pull down your panties he grabs your hand stopping you. “Leave ‘m on.”

Katsuki picks you up again before you can get a good look at his cock, but when it's pressed against you there is no need to see it. “Fuck you’re huge.”

He smirks at you, smug pride in his eyes. “Glad you approve.” Reaching a hand down he pulls your panties to the side and runs his fingers through your wet folds. “This all for me?” bringing his fingers up to show you the slick dripping down them he puts them in his mouth and sucks. “Gonna have to enjoy that tasty treat later.”

Your body is burning up, breathing is heavy as you both watch him drag his cock along your wet slit before pushing in. Your moans echo in the lab and neither one of you cares as Katsuki's cock drags against your inner walls until bottoming out. Right now is not the time for slow strokes, not with the aphrodisiac flowing through both of your bodies, so he starts a pace that has your ass slapping against his thighs.

“C-cumming!” You scream out before your body bows in on itself and you're creaming around his cock.

“Already?” a sideways grin on his face Katsuki starts moving you up and down in time with his thrusts, his cock reaching that much deeper. “Gonna cum for me again? Come on baby, wanna feel you milk my cock.”

Your mind is going blank, the only thing running through it is Katsuki. “Please don’t stop,” you dig your nails into his shoulders. “M Gonna cum again.” His thrusts go shallow and the head of his cock drags against your walls, hitting all the right spots.

You’re repeating his name endlessly, the only word that is in your mind then you’re cumming again. Your legs tense around his waist and your pussy clenches down hard enough that he has to stop moving or risk hurting you. He watches your face contorted in pleasure and starts thrusting as soon as he feels your orgasm subside.

“One more.”

Your head fuzzy, body limp from two orgasms. “I can’t!”

“Wrong,” Katsuki pulls out for a second, setting you on the floor and pushing on your back. You obediently bend forward grabbing the edge of the counter top and he wastes no time in rutting back into you. “You want me to stop?”

“NO”

“Then you got one more beautiful thing.” He sticks two fingers in his mouth, getting them wet then reaches around rubbing soft circles on your puffy clit. His other hand gripping your hip, before moving up and grabbing your shoulder using it as leverage to fuck into you harder.

“Come on, cum for me.”

You turn your head to the side trying your best to look in his eyes, yours tearing up at the overstimulation. “You cum too, fill me up Katsuki.”

“Oh fuck yeah.” Bending his knees he thrusts up into you and with the new angle, teasing circles being rubbed on your clit and the feral moans coming out of his mouth you cum one last time.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck

Katsuki cums after you, rope after rope of cum coating your fluttering walls.

You both stand there catching your breath. Katsuki pulls out and you whimper, “Oh don’t worry beautiful,” he picks you up again, walks over to a chair and sits down with you in his lap “not done with you yet.”

By the time you are spent both of you are exhausted and lost track of how many times either of you came. He helps you stand up, quickly pulling your panties back in place. “Don’t want you leakin.”

You giggle and pick up your clothes from the floor, he helps you get dressed and you both walk to the door. Making sure to check the air quality before leaving the lab you confirm that nothing is left in the air and unlock it. Before opening the door you turn to him opening your mouth to ask a question but he talks first.

“Let's go back to my room, yeah? I’ll help you clean up.” His voice rough from moaning and growling but you can see a small smile on his lips. Even though you know that the effects of the extract have worn off you can’t help but worry that he is still under their influence. Nodding your head you turn away from him again and open the door, walking into the lobby.

“I assume you're finished with the lab?”

You stop dead in your tracks, Katsuki bumping into you. “P-professor Aizawa?” Red hair peeks out behind him and Kirishima looks at you both with a nervous sharp toothed smile and red face. The fog of your memory clears and you vaguely remember hearing knocking on the window and door while you were… indisposed.

Katsuki steps in front of you, from the lack of red on his face or neck you know he isn’t nearly as mortified as you. “How long have you been standing there?”

The tired eyes of your teacher examine both of you. “Long enough.” He sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are both to meet me in my office tomorrow morning.”

And just before you can’t get anymore embarrassed he walks out and says over his shoulder. “The labs aren’t sound proof, and these walls echo.”

@doinmybesthere @patchworkpuzzle @eyebagsbutglam @sugarspiceanddynamight

[king-star]

hii! can you please make a natasha x reader fic where they both have been dating for a while and it's natasha's birthday and the reader surprises her with a brand new suit that she made herself and nat cries bc she never got a meaningful gift and the reader also surprises her with cake and more romantic gifts. you could make the reader tony's sister so it would make more sense that she's good at making suits but you don't have to!! thank you sm i need sum cute natty 😫

Birthday Suit

Warning: Use of the pet name Sunflower,

Match: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff

A/N: So this one was fun. I hate my birthday but this actually was cute. I’m trying a new way of presenting the dialogue. aesthetically it looks better but I’m not sure how it reads. I've seen other authors do the dialogue on completely seperate lines so just lmk if this is good.

Word Count: ~2.5 k

Summary: It’s Natasha's birthday, and despite her acting like she hates it you shower her with love.

The smell of cooking cake fills the compound. Even from the workshop, where you are, the sweet scent permeates the air. You have been baking for long enough to know what that smell means, the cake is almost done.

You check the clock on the wall. 2:44. Nat would be home at 5.

“Shit. I need to get this done,”

You shake your head and set down your wire cutters. The list of everything you need to get done before she arrives rolls through your mind.

It was her birthday. She didn’t know her actual birthday so years ago she made one up. The chosen date was a closely guarded secret she only shared with those she trusted most. For the most part the assassin didn’t even celebrate. When you had asked a week prior what she wanted to do she had brushed you off claiming,

“I don’t really care. As long as I get to be with my love.”

She had kissed you, hoping the kiss would fog your mind from any further planning. Unfortunately for her you were a big schemer, always going as big as you could for your friend’s birthdays.

You walked out of the workshop, making one last longing look at her unfinished gift on your messy work table. No one was around today. The one Saturday everyone had off a month. Natasha had gone shopping with Wanda, a plan conncocted to give you plenty of time to get everything ready.

“Friday do you mind turing the oven off?”

you asked the A.I. as you headed down the hallway.

“Of course Agent Y/L/N,”

entering the kitchen you picked up a discarded list of everything that needed to be done. Two items were crossed off “Bake the cake, movie fort.” The unmarked items looked at you teasingly and you felt anxiety rise in your chest. What if you didn’t get everything done and this birthday made Natasha hate birthdays even more? You shook your head trying to chase off the thoughts and went to the oven.

“One perfectly baked chocolate cake coming up,”

grabbing an oven mitt you pulled the cake out of the oven and placed it on the counter. Carefully you coerced the cake from the pan and set it on the cooling rack.

Back when Wanda and you ventured into the baking realm you had begged Tony to put in a floor to ceiling blast chiller. The kind that was always on baking competitions. He reluctantly agreed, with the price of always having to give him a taste of your creations. The freezer was immensely helpful in tight circumstances. You were more than grateful for it now.

You set your cake into the freezer and went to the pantry to pull out all the ingredients you needed for icing. You poured the powdered sugar and placed the butter into the bowl. When you turned on the mixer a cloud of sugary powder exploded in the kitchen. You blinked and licked your lips. Bringing a hand up to wipe your face, you laughed hard. Sugar covered the entire counter and floor beneath you, not to mention your already grease stained clothes.

“Wow, is my little sibling doing coke in here? And without me!”

a snarky voice sounded from across the room. You opened your eyes and squinted at your older brother with a scrunched nose.

“Can it Tony,”

You growled, grabbing a towel and wiping yourself off the counter. Tony laughed at you and opened the freezer to look at what sweet treats awaited him tonight.

“A cake? Are we celebrating?”

He laughed and made a teasing face. You rolled your eyes and called out to Friday.

“Can you order me four containers of icing from the store to be delivered?”

“You got it!”

her chipper accented voice came over the audio. You threw the towel in the sink and landed a punch in Tony’s arm as you left to go change.

“You better not eat any of that cake until Nat has had at least one slice. I know where you keep those rare magic cards you think no one knows about and I will not hesitate to cut them all in half,”

He looked at you in shock. Whether it was because you knew about the secret stash or because you would dare cut them you weren’t sure. The only way to get Tony mad was to go for something he couldn’t replace with money.

“YOU WOULDN'T FUCKING DARE,”

You run away as he climbs out of his chair and chases after you. You run into your room and lay on the door to push back a Tony who was only a few steps behind you. When you finally force the door into the frame you turn the lock and fall to the floor laughing.

Angry mumbling came from the other side. Tony pounded on the door twice before, defeated. walking away. After catching your breath you pulled your sugar stained clothes off and changed into the outfit you’d set aside that morning.

“Y/N the man just arrived with the icing,”

Friday called out to your room and you nodded.

“Thank you Friday. Have him set the bags in the kitchen,”

Friday hummed in agreement. You stood up and looked in the mirror checking yourself out. When you were satisfied with the look you unlocked the door and turned to the right. You really needed to finish Natasha’s present. You wouldn’t even have time to test it properly. You really hoped the phrase “it’s the thought that counts,” was true. Her gift could be something that got you endless kisses or a real crash and burn.

Making it to the lab you set your hand on your head and groaned. You really hoped it worked. It was so pretty. You grabbed the wrapping paper and box and set it in with a kiss.

“Natty, I hope you like it,”

The gift finished the fort built, and cake baked, there was only one thing left to do, ice the damn cake. You could bake sure, but only Wanda ever mastered the art of making it look beautiful.

When you made it to the kitchen Tony was nowhere in sight and a plastic bag with what you assumed was icing was set on the counter. You pulled out a butter knife and dug in, hoping this looked somewhat edible. Wanda was the one who was skilled at decorating. You could make the elaborate pastry chef treats, but you could never handle the finer details of making it look pretty.

~

You were in the workshop when Friday alerted you that Wanda and Natasha were home. A feeling similar to anxiety or excitement fluttered in your chest. This was the first time you’d celebrated her birthday with your girlfriend. You wanted her to like birthdays again. To feel as special and loved as you can pour out for her.

“Thank you Friday. Please tell them I’m in the workshop and will be heading to the game room shortly,”

You set down the gauntlet you’d been fixing while waiting for them and brushed off your outfit. Your eyes searched over the shirt for stains, and when you were satisfied you were clean you headed to your “party”.

Wanda was the first to come in. She threw her hands to her face and “oood” and “aweeed” over the spread you had out.

“Y/N your cake! it’s…. adorable,”

you punched her in the shoulder with a frown. She fell over laughing.

“I TRIED! and I’m sure it tastes amazing.”

you crossed your arms and pouted. She sat back up still laughing and patted your back.

“She’ll love it Y/N. Even if it had ‘fuck you Nat’ written on top she’d love it,”

you smiled at the complement and stopped pouting. You were explaining the technology behind Nat’s present when the woman of the hour finally walked in.

“What is all this? Are y’all having a party? and didn’t invite me,”

she sat down next to you intertwining your fingers with hers and kissing your shoulder. You smiled as the excitement anxiety mix returned.

“Actually…. it’s for you,”

You smiled and kissed her hands. She looked genuinely surprised. You really hoped the feeling was happy excitement.

“oh- Y/N y-you remembered? and you didn’t have to do any of this. I thought I told you i didn’t care to celebrate,”

you felt Wanda stand up to leave with a pat on your shoulder. You smiled up at her and turned back to Natasha.

“I know I know, but I wanted to do something special. You love me so well and work so hard all the time. You deserve a day that’s unapologetically about you,”

You knew if Natasha didn’t have such complete control of her emotions she would be crying. The agape mouth gave that away. You smiled and leaned forward pulling her into a deep, intimate kiss. Feeling her smile against your lips you pulled away and leaned your forehead against hers.

“I love you Natashka. I will do anything to make you feel like Queen of the world,”

with that she started crying. You frowned and wiped away the tears.

“I really hope those are happy tears,”

she nodded quickly and smiled, sniffling a little.

“Very very happy tears. happy ‘I don’t know what on Earth i did to deserve you’ tears,”

“It is I who does not deserve you. The Great Black Widow. I’m just here to make you smile, it’s my life goal,”

you bowed as much as you could sitting down. Placing a peck on her lips you turned back to the presents and pointed.

“Which one should we open first?”

she pondered and then picked up a small box. Nimble fingers unwrapped the box and pulled out a Ring. You had managed to get her size weeks earlier fitting one of your own on her finger when hanging out. She looked at the little silver band with a carved sunflower at the head. A smile bloomed across her face and she hugged you.

“Oh my goodness Y/N, it’s so pretty…,”

she slid it onto her fingers, finding the one it fit best and stared at it. You hugged her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

“Well, you are my sunflower. It’s just a reminder when we are away,”

Her eyes lit up at the nickname. It wasn’t as common for you to use it as baby or sweetheart, but sunflower had always been her favourite.

She looked at the other boxes realising they were also for her. You picked up the next box, a medium sized one and handed it to her. You were saving the biggest for last.

She was just in awe and set it down before unwrapping it. Her hands snaked around your waist and pulled you flush to her. Her soft lips pressed kisses to your jaw and she set her head on your shoulder.

“Thank you so much Y/N, I- no one has done something like this for me ever,”

She hugged you tight again and then let go picking back up the present. You nodded and kissed her head. Pushing some hair out of her face you stroked her hair softly. Her hands once again unwrapped the gift. She squeaked at the sight of the book underneath the paper.

Natasha never got to read much on her own accord growing up. The red room picked out books for her education but never anything she would actually enjoy. Long ago Natasha had told you the first book she read after getting out of the red room was Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and since then she adored the book. You had found, and paid for with Tony’s credit card, a first edition of the book. The auction was rough but you needed that book for Natasha.

Natasha stared at the book once, again jaw hanging open. She wiped her hands on her pants before handingly the book with utmost care. She flipped it over and ran her fingertips over the indented letters and gold illustration on the front.

“Y-you like it? I know you said you like Alice in Wonderland. It’s uh… actually a first edition copy. Tony was about ready to kill me when he saw me pay for the bid,”

You laughed nervously. She turned the book around again and then set it on the coffee table. She tackled you and pushed you back on the couch kissing all over your face. You yelped in surprise then grabbed her hips, catching her lips and kissing her roughly. She melted into the kiss but you pulled away.

“As much as I love this Natty, let’s open your last gift and eat some cake,”

You sat up and pulled her so she was in your lap. You placed a soft kiss to the back of her neck as she reached for the last gift. It was heavy but the assassin had no trouble lifting it.

“After that we can makeout in the fort I made. yeah?”

You wrapped your arms around her waist and pulled her close to you, rubbing circles on her thigh. She laughed and nodded, blushing profusely.

“I like that idea Y/N,”

She opened the box and pulled out the gift you put months of effort into. This time her reaction wasn’t as instantaneous. You helped her pull all the pieces out and set it on the coffee table. She looked at it slightly perplexed.

“I’m sorry… I’m not exactly sure what it is,”

She pouted and looked at you. You smiled and nodded knowing she wouldn’t. You set it out so she could see all the parts.

“Well… uh it’s a new suit. You always say that you don’t like how tight and revealing your other ones are so I kinda beefed this one up so it focuses on functionality,”

She nodded along as you explained. A look of understanding crossed her face as she pulled at the sleeves.

“ohhhhhhhh. That makes so much sense. I- Y/N what the fuck. I can’t express it enough. You are the best, you listened to me and used it to give me the best gifts i’ve ever gotten. You are the most thoughtful partner,”

You beamed. The feeling you knew she was struggling to express, it was exactly what you’d wanted her to feel. Loved, heard, appreciated, and cared for.

“I’m glad sunflower. That’s what I wanted. To make you feel as good as you deserve. D-do you mind if I tell you a bit about the features? I didn’t have time to test some of them so I will need to do that before you take it into combat,”

She nodded and slid off your lap to look at you. You patted her legs and squeezed then held at the sleeve first.

“Well of course it wouldn’t be a suit for the Black widow without gauntlets. These can change through three different modes for different levels and types of stuns also a laser if you need that for aiming,”

You flipped on the laser and pointed it at a pot then turned it back off.

“Also I made it so the suit can suction to your body but be limp to put it on. a lot easier to slip on ya know. And there is mobile but thick padding on all major points of contact for falling. Shoulders, hips, elbows, knees, the like.”

Natasha ran her hands over the surprisingly thin padding and smiled.

“Wow baby that’s… amazing,”

You nodded and picked up the bag attached to the back.

“And uh there’s a parachute built in as well as pockets up the legs, arms and boots so you don’t have to have the belts. They are sorta magnetic so you can like open them easily but when they are closed everything stays in. OH AND THE BOOTS,”

You started to ramble on about the energy absorbing boots you worked with Shuri on that would allow Nat to drop from double the height of a normal human with no damage to her knees or feet. Nat just stared at you hungirly.

“Hey baby, I seriously appreciate the gift. It’s honestly the best thing I've ever gotten. Why don’t we try it out tomorrow and you can show me EVERYTHING. For now we can… sit in the fort like you said,”

She had a cocky smile and you blushed at her antics. You nodded quickly, cutting off your rambling. Her hands found your waist and she pulled you off the couch and into the pillow fort you had built.

“I uh- got a movie for us to watch. Do you want to?”

She nodded and smiled. A look that very much meant “Yes. That's sweet, but I doubt we will be watching it.” You pulled her into your lap, setting your hands on her waist. She draped hers over your shoulders and rubbed light circles on the back of your neck. You leaned forward and trapped her lips in a kiss. Soft but full of passion.

The rest of that night was spent watching the movie and kissing. When you finally remembered the cake a slice had been taken out of it, with

“You were busy with Romanoff so I took what I was owed. The package has been moved, try getting me now little sibling.”

On a sticky note beside it. Natasha had laughed, unsure exactly what had happened but sure it was a story she would much enjoy hearing.

She had moaned over how good the cake was after laughing at how “Adorably” it was decorated.

“So Nat… did I make this birthday worth celebrating?”

She smiled wide and nodded.

“Yes Y/N, if every birthday was like this I would never want to stop celebrating.”

Tag List:

@xburningbluex @zoeyserpentluck @iamgaiiiuwu @natasharomanoffswife @fleurlovesbucky @fayhar @ymzki-haruki @lostandsearching

Natasha Tag list:

@basiclesbianbitch @stephanieromanoff @sapphicshots @madamevirgo @choni-trimberly@wlwlovesreading @i-just-like-storage @screamsin-gay @ymzki-haruki

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 1

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language and mild medical drama Warnings: Brief depictions of medical treatments for blood loss and its symptoms Genre: Hurt + comfort Summary: Bela has always wondered who her soulmate was, the person she was connected to by red string. When she finally meets them, she's devastated to find them hanging in her basement, being drained of blood. But her soulmate won't die- not if she can do something about it. Notes: Soulmate AU in which people have a red thread tied to their left ring finger (or elsewhere if missing the finger/hand), which connects to their soulmate. By default the string is taut/tight, only getting loose when the pair is relatively close to each other.

1: Stem The Flow

How long had she waited for this day? How long had Bela monitored the red string tied to her hand, waiting for it to be anything other than taut? A decade, at the least, if not two or more. For so long she had dreamt of her soulmate, albeit discreetly, wondering about every facet of their being. Entire days had been spent imagining them, and how they would come into her life. Sometimes, on those days, she would gently tug her end of the thread. Every single time, without fail, her soulmate had returned the motion. It warmed her heart more than she’d ever admit, to know that her excitement was not one-sided.

At times, it did worry her, the feelings in her chest reminding her of her youngest sister. Daniela was obsessed with love, dangerously so, to the point of being downright delusional. More than once her “affections” had gotten their family into some sort of trouble. No matter how mature Bela considered herself to be, there was a part of her that worried about repeating her sister’s mistakes. What if her excitement about her partner led her to overlook something crucial? What if the person in question posed a threat to her family? How easy would it be, then, for her to cut them off?...

Today, perhaps, she would find out.

The sun had set over the Romanian landscape, and with the moon rose the Dimitrescu household. First out of bed, as always, Bela wasted no time in getting dressed. Hazy visions of her fading dreams clouded her mind, tugging on her thoughts as always. Most days they felt more like memories than anything else. Today, they are quieter than usual, easily fading into the background. When the last traces of her grogginess disperse, Bela finds herself glancing at her left hand. It’s a daily habit, although discreet, that always leaves her with bittersweet feelings.

“Wait…” Bela whispered, as her eyes took in the unexpected sight: The red string of fate, tied to her left ring finger, loose as can be. It trails to the ground, coiled a single time, before heading underneath her door. “Am I dreaming?” She does not bother to pinch herself to check. Instead she practically jumps into her shoes, dashing out of her room with unfamiliar glee. Maidens in the hallways have to leap aside to avoid her, but she does not care, for once ignoring the standards her mother had instilled in her. If her sisters could be chaotic, we couldn’t she?

So she follows the thread, eagerly, without even wondering why it was so loose. No, she didn’t think about the implications of the situation. In her mind, it did not matter why her soulmate was finally within her reach, it simply mattered that they were. Soon enough they would be in her arms, safe, with nothing else to bother them. And then she’d be happy, finally having someone she was on equal terms with. Finally having someone to confide in, to cherish, to whisper sweet nothings to in the dead of the night.

She doesn’t hesitate until she finds the string wrapped around the door to the basement. At last the signs click together in her mind, like a conspiracy board bound with crimson ties. Instantly panic replaces whatever excitement she had been feeling. Then she’s abandoning all sense of caution, throwing open the door and rushing forward, dispersing into a swarm to cover more ground. Even if she could no longer see the thread in this form, she was certain that she’d know exactly who her soulmate was when she saw them.

And, well, she does. Something calls her to the far corner of the main room, where a body was suspended from the ceiling by its hands. An all-too-familiar needle was sticking out of the person’s arm, leading down to a large glass container, which was slowly filling with blood. The scent made Bela’s nostrils flare, and her eyes go wide, but she did her best to fight against her instincts. Quickly she gets to her knees, examining the jar to see how full it was. Most of the measurement lines were faded, having been worn out over time, making it harder to estimate the volume. In the end, Bela guessed that the container could fit just over six liters inside. Which meant that the person had lost close to… two and a half. That was bad- behind bad, really. Horrible, actually. Immediately life threatening to the point of having been life threatening before Bela had even woken up.

“Don’t die on me, please,” she half cried half shouted, jumping into action as best as she knew how. Not even bothering to turn the nozzle on the device, she pulls the needle out of her soulmate’s arm, cursing when more blood rushes out of the hole. Then she’s applying pressure, hard as she can, beyond glad that they weren’t awake for this. One hand goes to tear a piece of fabric off of their shirt. Hopefully they wouldn’t mind, all things considered. Next, Bela ties the cloth around the collection point, making less of a tourniquet and more of a generic bandage. “Shit, you need a transfusion, don’t you?... Fuck, fuck, what’s your blood type?”

Knowing that she wouldn’t be getting a verbal answer any time soon, Bela settled for dipping a finger into the jar, bringing it to her lips, and licking. The difference in taste among blood types was subtle, but she was nothing if not a professional at this point. Still, the type is not immediately clear to her, and she knows that she might have to go around licking more blood from other prisoners. Unless… could someone receive a transfusion of their own blood? Such a thing had never happened at the castle before, but there was a first time for everything.

“Hold on, I’ll figure this out, somehow, I promise,” Bela said, gently taking her patient’s hand in her own. Taking your hand.

When you wake, you find yourself among the softest sheets you have ever felt, as if laying on clouds themselves. But your vision is blurred, and your head is besieged by waves of pain. A whimper makes its way past your lips. For a moment all you can do is tense up, unsure of any detail of your situation, unable to discern anything around you. Then you feel a hand on your own, squeezing gently. Something about it sends a rush of comfort throughout your entire body. Still, you are more confused than anything, and you find yourself trying to sit up out of instinct.

Without warning the hand lets you go, only for the owner to shift their weight, climbing on top of you in an instant. They’re holding you down, saying words that don’t quite reach your ears. For how light they are, they manage to put an impressive amount of pressure on you, easily rendering you immobile. Unfortunately, this position does little to ease your anxiety. The last thing you could remember was a very, very tall lady sticking a needle in your arm with a cruel laugh. Based on how you felt, there was still a needle in your arm. But you had been standing, or hanging, before, and now you were on your back.

“Whathe… wha the ‘ell… can’t 'hink,” you muttered, stumbling over your own tongue. Whoever sits on top of you tries to comfort you, running a hand through your hair. “Who are you?” You asked, even though you couldn’t understand a word this person said. Their voice might as well have been in another language, with the way your addled brain processed it. Had you lost too much blood? Or maybe you had a concussion? “I just. I just wanted to meet them. Please, I jus… I just wanna see my soulmate.”

Again, you cannot understand what the person says in response, but they finally seem to understand this. One of their hands reaches out and grabs your left one, slowly tapping your fingers, one by one. When they reach your ring finger, they pause, gently holding it. For a few moments you’re left even more confused. Then, with a surge of warmth in your chest, the dots are connected. Whoever is with you quietly grabs the thread attached to your finger, before tugging gently. In order for them to do that… well, there was only one explanation. They were your soulmate. They were the one you had gone to this accursed castle to meet. Somehow they had saved you, and everything was finally looking up.

Mind clearing slowly, you’re finally able to understand something they- or she, as far as you can tell- say.

“Rest now, my beloved. You are safe in my care, this I promise.”

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Bubblegum Princess, Cherry Angel | Kai Parker

Hello my lovelies! 2020 is almost over, can you believe it? I sure as hell can’t! I have no idea what inspired this, I truly don’t, but it seemed only fitting to end this year off with a raunchy round of sex! Because why the fuck not! I hope you all have a safe and wonderful new years, and I can’t wait to see you all in 2021! Please enjoy loves!

Description: He smells her bubblegum lip gloss and then wonders how on earth he managed to convince an angel to let him fuck her into next week, let alone get in his truck. 

Pairing: Kai Parker x Female!Reader

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC ONLY!! Smut (terribly written smut is more accurate), nothing more than the usual but, like, it is like 7000 words of pure sex so read at your own risk

Word count: 9.2k

Tags: SMUT, FLUFF

The four hours in which it took two people to find magic within each other, all thanks to one tube of drugstore, bubblegum lip gloss. 

Hour One

Her bubblegum lip gloss attacks him from all the way across the café, cutting cleanly through the aroma of coffee and donuts and sending his heart racing at the obscenely sweet scent. He should hate it. No, scratch that, he shouldn’t think anything of it at all. It’s not in his nature to enjoy things- or to feel things at all, to be frank- but he can’t help it. The drugstore brand, wildly over-scented balm makes his head fuzzy like nothing else. 

Kai watches as she pours over the book in front of her, tilting his head when she scrunches her nose. She murmurs something inaudible, tapping a pen to her lip a couple times. One tap, two taps, three taps. Each time that pen touches her lip he grows more envious, his heart now very much in his throat. Does the pen know her lips taste like candy? Does it at least have the courtesy to enjoy it? He releases a breath when she finally writes something down, leaving her mouth alone. 

He forces his eyes away from her and back to his own coffee. Well, the term coffee should only be loosely used here; it’s more sugar and cream than actual coffee. The sweet syrup warms his chest as he takes a sip, lighting his taste buds on fire. Maybe this is what her lips taste like. He shakes his head to clear her face from his mind- a task much more impossible than one might think- before setting the mug down and turning to the device between his fingers. A cell phone. 

Kai presses the ‘on’ button, his eyes lighting up with the screen. Damon had handed it- the cell phone- to him a few days ago, muttering something about leaving the 80’s in the past where it belongs, and told him to get used to it. A little apple symbol appears and he scrunches his eyebrows. Is that supposed to be there? It disappears, replaced now by a picture of the forest he took a couple days ago. That’s better. He swipes past the lockscreen, coming to a page of little square pictures. Damon said those are called apps.

He clicks on one with a little bird- Twitter, he thinks it’s called- and opens it, scrolling a little sloppily through the page. He comes across a picture, one with a man holding a guitar, and stops to look at it for a minute. It looks like someone he used to know and he clicks on the picture to check. That looks like the same birthmark and he kind of remembers the guitar- 

All of a sudden the picture starts moving and music starts blaring from the phone, filling the quiet café with an obnoxious twang. It startles Kai, his heart jumping and his cheeks much too hot, and he drops the phone on the table, a sharp bang now joining the music. He grabs at his phone frantically, feeling all the stares that are now on him as he blindly searches for the ‘off’ button and sighing in relief when the screen goes black once more. Cell phones are awful, he decides in the moment. 

Kai hears soft giggles as his shoulders sag, the same bubblegum fragrance tickling his senses. The musical laughter and the sugary gloss are a lethal combination, one that taunts his senses and consumes him whole. The giggles echo in his ears, invading his head and bouncing around every nerve. He turns towards the sound- he doesn’t have a choice- and his eyes meet the girl, zeroing in on her glossy lips now wrapped around the end of her pen. He takes in her face, every curve and edge, before landing on her eyes and promptly losing his breath. Does she know she’s the prettiest woman he’s ever seen?

He smiles at her and rolls his eyes in what he can only hope is a playful way, holding up the phone and shrugging his shoulders. Her eyes draw over his face and down his arm, trailing fire over him with her very gaze before landing on the estranged device. She giggles again and Kai wishes he could grab the sound out of the air and pocket it. Is that normal? He bites his cheek as she looks back to her book, the pen still between her sweet lips. He doesn’t bother trying to answer the question; he doesn’t care. 

He clicks the phone once more, this time simply to check the time. A quarter to five. He glances back at the woman, his eyes widening as she slips her book into the leather bag hanging off her chair. Shit, she’s leaving. He stands quickly, shoving his phone in his pocket and slapping a five dollar bill on the table. When he looks up again she’s at the door, her bubble gum aroma fading as she clears the threshold. He shrugs his jacket on, racing out the door to catch up with her.

The cold air bites his skin as soon as steps onto main street, his eyes scanning for the pretty girl with the worn satchel and voice like a siren. He spots her halfway down the square and doesn’t think for a moment before jogging to meet her, his chest a mess of warmth and butterflies. Her head is down, lost in the sound of her heels against the pavement and quite oblivious to the love struck puppy chasing after her. It seems that only a bark will catch her attention now.

“Hey, wait up,” Kai calls, his heart screaming in his chest, “you forgot something.”

He’s a few feet away from her now and her bubblegum scent has morphed into the sweetest mixture of maraschino cherries and candy and every, little, perfect thing he’s ever experienced. It makes his mouth water and his cheeks flush, two things which are only intensified when she turns around and her eyes light up, a soft smile taking over her supple lips. 

She tilts her head at him, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, “I did?”

He almost can’t answer, the cheesy line he had already lined up on his tongue melting away at the sound of her angelic voice. Two words. Two little words and she has him completely wrapped around her perfect finger. He doesn’t understand the feeling in his chest, the way her voice makes him feel like he’s breathing for the first time in his entire life, but he doesn’t care. That’s a recurring theme with this girl.

A grin spreads across his face, his stomach twisting as he finds his words once more, “you did,” he nods, taking half a step towards her. “You forgot to let me buy you dinner.”

Her face lights up even further as she throws a hand over her lips, her giggles once more flooding his body with tingles. She looks like an angel, the way her eyes close slightly when she laughs. She must know what she’s doing to him, how when she throws her head and her neck curves against the setting sun his entire body goes stiff. His fingers squeeze at his sides, wanting nothing more than to trace over her soft skin. What is going on?

“How silly of me,” she murmurs, her pretty eyes- yes that’s all he can think, that they are the most pretty eyes he’s ever seen- dancing over his face, “how could I possibly forget to let a man- whose name I don’t know- ask me to dinner?”

His cheeks flare with heat but he can’t wipe the adoring smile off his lips, “where are my manners? I’m Kai,” her takes her hand, pulling it to his lips and stealing a few more of those delicious giggles from her throat, “and I would really like to buy you dinner.”

She hums appreciatively, a wide smile on her lips. His heart flutters rapidly when she twists her fingers into his, running her thumb over his. Every part of her is soft- gentle- and he would give anything in that moment to be able to pull her into his arms. That isn’t normal, though, he knows that much. 

“Kai,” she tests his name on her tongue and his heart stops, his whole being screaming at him to beg her to say it again and again, “I like that. I’m y/n,” she supplies and the name clicks into his chest like a missing puzzle piece as she continues on her little ramble, “Kai.” She tilts her head, her eyes clouded over in thought, “something is missing, though. Is that your full name?”

His eyes widen, his chest flooding with dread at her soft inquiry, “no, actually. It’s Malachai,” he winces slightly as it rolls off his tongue- he always has hated that name- watching her closely for the moment she recoils in disgust, “I know, what were my parents thinking right? I sound like a villain-”

“I like it better,” she interrupts, her eyes catching his and her hand squeezing a tad harder, “it suits you. Malachai.” This time when she says his name he has to swallow the lump in his throat, his stomach tensing, “tell me, Malachai, do you like pizza?”

Hour Two

Her heart pounds hard in her chest as she sits in the booth across from him, his chocolate and honey scent still clinging desperately to her hand. She brushes an invisible strand of hair from her face, using the excuse to breathe him in again. He’s intoxicating, she muses to herself. Does he know he’s the most handsome man she’s ever seen? He smiles at her, his grin tugging at his red lips and sending her heart even further into overdrive. He must know.

“I hope this place has good pizza,” Kai laughs, the sound like heaven to her ears, “I haven’t actually tried it yet. If it’s awful I give you full permission to hate me.

She laughs as well- she can’t help it, she never giggles this much but he around him it’s impossible to not- pressing her hand to her mouth, “you’re lucky then; you chose my favourite restaurant. I always make sure to stop by the grill when I’m home. The pizza here is wonderful.”

That’s what she says. The pizza is wonderful. What she wants to say is that she doesn’t think she could ever hate him. That five minutes under his gaze, listening to his smooth voice and honeyed laugh, is enough to have her completely spellbound. That she’s almost certain by the time an hour passes she’ll forget every other boy she’s ever laid eyes on. What she wants to say is that she thinks he’s wonderful. But that’s not normal- not proper- so she just smiles at him.

He tilts his head, his eyes skimming over her face in a way that makes her cheeks warm, “when you’re home?”

She nods, trying to ignore the way he leans towards her slightly and how it makes her blood pump harder, “I go to school out of town. Not too far away but far enough that I have to live on campus. I actually have to head back tonight,” her heart stings for a moment, thinking about how she only just met him and now she has to leave, “I was only here for a day.”

“So I only have a few hours,” he hums, his smile like a bullet straight to her heart, “I think that’s enough time.”

His fingers slide slowly across the table, his pinky skimming her hand. It’s the simplest of touches- just a brush of his skin against hers- but it’s like she can feel all of him through it. She can feel his hands skimming her body, every inch of it, in intricate detail, as if she’s been in this very moment before and her muscles can recall each of his. It only increases when he grins, no doubt catching the way she sucks in a breath. The sinful twist of his lips strikes something in her. She has felt those lips on her, perhaps not in this life but definitely in another. She can feel it.

She’s breathless, the phantom feeling of his mouth on hers consuming her completely even as she speaks, “enough time for what?”

He slips his fingers between hers and she sighs, the feeling of their hands fitting so perfectly together overwhelming, “enough time to make you fall in love with me, obviously.”

Her mouth falls open and he laughs again, pulling her arm across the table and kissing her knuckles once more. Too late, she wants to scream, you don’t need an hour. She pulls her bottom lip between her lip, artificial bubblegum bursting across her tongue. His lips on her skin is too much; too much and not enough all at the same time. How is that even possible? 

She doesn’t need to ask herself the question again. No, this isn’t normal. Nothing about how she feels right now is normal. Not the way she wants to wrap her arms around Kai, not the way she feels like she knows him already, and especially not how she’s dreading leaving this town when normally she wants to run as far away from it as possible. The most not-normal thing about it all, though, is the way she wants to tell him each and every one of those things. She wants to grab his face, run her fingers through his gorgeous hair, and tell him everything she’s feeling right now.

But she can’t so instead she whispers, “what if I make you fall in love first, Malachai?”

Kai squeezes her hand tighter, his legs tangling with hers under the booth. His lips part, his tongue darting out and wetting his lips. Her heart hammers in her chest as she watches, ridiculously jealous at the notion of not getting to taste him in the same way. Her body floods with heat when his eyes twinkle, a response dancing on the very same, traitorous tongue, but before he can answer their waiter arrives, setting down a large pizza and turning to face her. He has blonde hair and an easy smile, one that would send most girls reeling. Matt Donovan. She remembers him from high school; he was a good kid but they never really ran in the same social circles. She doesn’t regret not knowing him, his group is part of the reason she left this town.

“Alright, one pizza. Is there anything else I can get for you,” he smiles at her and her heart doesn’t hammer anymore, it slows.

She tightens her fingers around Kai’s, her voice less melodic than moments ago, “no, this is great thank you.”

Matt nods, stalling a moment and smiling at her. She can feel Kai tense, his legs stilling against her own. Her eyes dart between the two and she catches the way his eyes narrow at the blonde, his head tilting as if calculating what he should do. His chocolate scent increases, if that’s even possible, wrapping around her like a blanket as he sits up straighter. Matt doesn’t even look at him, his eyes focussed on her and her alone.

“You sure I can’t get you anything else?”

She nods but before she can speak Kai answers, his voice clipped but a smile on his lips regardless, “actually,” his eyes lower to the nametag on Matt’s chest, “Matt, we’d love a box.”

Matt’s eyebrows scrunch and she giggles, a tad confused but deeply invested in the cruel twang to Kai’s voice. She meets his eyes, pulling her lip once more between her teeth and swallowing her heart that has crawled it’s way into her throat. Something about the way he’s holding himself- the way he taunts the boy she went to school with only a few years ago- makes her feel alive. Who would have thought that the bubblegum princess would get such a thrill from watching the devil go head to head with the boy next door? 

“A box?” she has to stifle another giggle, not wanting to appear rude despite how much joy she’s feeling.

Kai nods, “please, and the check. We really should get going now.”

Her heart thrums, wondering what on earth he’s up to. She doesn’t care. It’s starting to become a recurring theme with this boy; how little she cares about anything but being in his presence. Each second that passes she falls deeper into something she can’t explain. Her heart jumps when Kai’s eyes meet hers, his smile softening from the malicious grin that he had been aiming at Matt. She shakes her head lightly, nudging his foot under the table and rubbing her calf against his. 

“Alrighty,” Matt grumbles, “I’ll get that for you right now.”

She watches as he walks away, turning back to the man across from her with a grin on her glossy lips, “how am I supposed to fall in love with you when you don’t even feed me?” 

He laughs, tugging her hand to his mouth. She’s starting to think that her hand belongs there, pressed against his lips for eternity. Every time his lips swipe across her knuckles she swoons, sparks tingling up her arm. If his lips feel this good against her hand then they must feel even better- no, nevermind that. 

“You can eat in the car,” he suggests, his eyes searching hers as he draws another knuckle to his mouth and nipping lightly with his teeth. 

The feeling of his teeth scraping against her skin sends her reeling, a shiver racing up her spine as she registers his words. In the car. She presses her lips together. What does that mean?

“Malachai?”

“Let me drive you back to school.”

Hour Three

Kai watches her steal the last piece of pizza and laughs, tossing the box into the back of his truck and pulling her closer on the bench seat. She tangles her fingers through his free hand and his heart explodes in his chest. His eyes lock on the road again but his thoughts are stuck on the beautiful girl beside him whose hands are wrapped around his arm. She clings to him, her bubblegum and cherry and just plain irresistible scent invading his senses. She leans her head against his shoulder, rubbing her cheek against his jacket, and he forgets that she hasn’t been in his life more than three hours. 

They’ve been driving for an hour, laughing and talking as the sun set. She’s told him about her major, about the books she reads and her parents. She’s spouted all the lines of her favourite movies and listed her favourite cities in order even though she’s only been to a couple. He, in turn, has told her about his favourite song. He told her about the time he broke his leg and how he isn’t usually like this. How he’s never like this. She agreed with that, taking the opportunity to tell him how focussed she usually is. He didn’t mind when she spoke over him. Had it been anyone else he would have but he could listen to her talk for ages. She makes hours feel like minutes- like seconds- and every sign they pass he gets more and more desperate. He doesn’t want to leave her. He wants more of the minute-like hours.

“What’s your favourite color,” she mumbles, running her nose over his arm.

He’s never understood why people care about favourite colors. It’s just so trivial, the answer always changing, that it’s never made sense to him. Is it possible to have a favourite color? He doesn’t think so. For some reason though, when she asks him and her voice goes high at the end of the question- as if she’s truly dying to know his favourite color- his heart stammers, not wanting to mess up the answer. He glances at her, his eyes finding her bubblegum cherry lips. Maybe he has a favourite color after all.

“Red,” Kai responds, running his thumb over her wrist and smiling when she shivers against him, “my favourite color is red.”

She hums appreciatively, her voice bouncing around the cab of his truck, “I like red too. It’s not my favourite though.”

Her fingers untangle from his, her hand landing on his thigh, using him for balance as she tucks her legs underneath her. Kai sucks in a breath at her touch, a tingle shooting up his spine. Her innocent eyes peer into his, no doubt still thinking about colors without a care in the world. His mind, on the other hand, couldn’t be further away from the color wheel. 

“Why’s that,” he forces out, his voice gravelly, “what’s your favourite color?”

“Black,” she answers and for a moment he doesn’t think about her hand still curled around his thigh, “I think I like the color black.”

He scrunches his eyebrows. Black. He wouldn’t have pegged her for a dark colors kind of girl. Every part of her screams light. Goodness. She seems like the type of girl who likes laying in the sun and eating ice cream on hot days and filling the bath with more bubbles than water. No, she doesn’t seem like she is; he knows she is. He doesn’t have to ask her to know that she is the complete opposite of him. 

Kai can’t stop himself from asking, “why the color black?”

She moves her hand back to his arm, wrapping both of her arms around his, and he lets out a sigh of relief. Well, relief mixed with frustration. He didn’t want her hand gone, he wanted it higher. He’ll take her wrapped around him though, it’s just as good. It’s better. He can think of a hundred different ways he would like this woman wrapped around him. 

She presses her lips to his shoulder and he wishes the stupid jacket would just burn, “because it suits you. I didn’t think I liked it before today but now I think there’s something beautiful about it.”

Kai’s hand finds her thigh, his heart pounding fiercely, “the color?”

She gasps lightly when he squeezes, a sound that hits him straight in the gut. He does it again, this time harder, and she presses her forehead against his shoulder, her soft moan tumbling against him. His hand tightens on the steering wheel at the sound. He has no idea how he managed to get an angel into his truck. How he convinced her that he was good enough to sit this close to her; good enough to hold her in his hands and hear her pleasure. 

“The darkness,” she whispers, her voice hitching when his hand slides higher, “I didn’t think I would like the darkness this much.”

He digs his fingers into her jean-clad skin, reveling in her warmth and the way she squeezes her thighs around his hand. He bites his cheek, barely containing his own moans. She’s not even touching him and yet the sound of her voice alone has him so close. His eyes read the next sign, sucking in a harsh breath. Ten more minutes and she’ll be out of his truck. 

Kai looks over at her- perhaps for what will be one of the last times- forcing a sharp smile to his lips, “this darkness is nothing, princess.” His voice is hoarse, his words soft but pained, “it’s just a glimpse. I don’t think you would like the real thing as much.”

He watches as her eyes widen, her mouth falling open a touch. Exactly, he thinks to himself, now you’re starting to get it. He clenches his jaw, going to move his hand from her heavenly thigh when she stops him, her hands closing around his wrist. His shoulders- among other things- tense as she drags his fingers to settle directly between her legs, using her hand to guide his motions and arching into his touch. Holy fucking shit. 

“Princess what-” Kai tries to process his thoughts clearly but he can’t; the heat seeping from her and her fingers pushing his to rub against her are much too demanding for him to form a coherent sentence.

The sign for her university comes into focus as he rubs his fingers harder against her. A soundtrack of her moans fills the cab of his truck, her hands wrapping like a vice against his arm as she presses her face once more against his shoulder. He curses, breathing in her sugary aroma, his chest flooding with heat. All he can think about is how he has to park this damn car before he crashes and doesn’t get to experience more of the exquisite creature next to him. She rolls her head back onto the seat, spreading her legs further for him, her hands never leaving his arm.

“Just try me, Malachai.”

Hour Four

She moans as Kai’s hands find the button of her jeans, the tires of his truck screeching as he finally pulls into her dorm’s parking lot. As soon as he shifts the gears into park she’s on him, grabbing the collar of his jacket and pulling his lips to her own. God, she was right, he tastes chocolate and mint gum. He groans into her mouth, one of his hands finding her hip and pulling her onto his lap while the other goes to her neck, pushing her lips against his. She presses against him, rocking against the hard bulge in his jeans and gasping against his mouth.

“Malachai,” she murmurs, her hands sliding through his silky hair, “I need you.”

He wraps his arms around her back, pressing his chest against hers and backing her into the steering wheel. Her heart thunders when his lips meet her jaw, nipping at her skin before sliding back to her lips and pulling her bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Fuck,” her body lights up at the throaty tone of his voice, “are you sure, princess?”

She nods, the words lodging in her throat as Kai’s lips trace to her neck, his tongue flattening against her pulse point. She’s sure alright. She’s never been more sure of anything. She wraps her hands around his back, clawing at his shoulders and mewling at his skilled lips. She tugs at his jacket, trying her best to convey her need for the material to disappear. The girl is rarely speechless but right now, when she needs her voice the most, it’s as if it’s nowhere to be seen.

“Off, please get it off,” she finally murmurs against his lips, her hands splayed hard against his jaw as he shrugs the jacket off, “I need to feel you.”

Kai’s fingers curl around the hem of her shirt, sliding underneath and around her back, his fingers digging into her spine deliciously. She rocks higher on his lap, her lips finding his throat and sucking his warm skin into her mouth. She runs her tongue against the hollow of his throat, smiling when he bucks his hips against her. Tingles shoot through her as he brushes against her and she lets loose another moan into his skin.

“More,” she fumbles, seeing stars behind her eyelids, “I need more. I need all of you, right now. Please.”

She doesn’t even know what she’s saying; she just knows if he doesn’t make love to her soon she’s going to literally combust. She slides her hands down Kai’s chest, her fingers slipping beneath his shirt and glimpsing at his hard muscles. Her fingers explore slightly and she reels when he tenses under her, a breathy moan of his own joining hers.

He crushes her against him, his head falling against the seat, “angel, I will do whatever the fuck you want me to but not in my truck.” His hand slides to her ass, squeezing so hard her core clenches, his name slipping from her lips, “I am not about to let just anyone watch me fuck you into next week. That’s mine and mine alone.”

She can hear exactly what he means; you’re mine and mine alone. It sends another wave of heat coursing over her, her core clenching again, harder, and she nods furiously against his neck, “my room. Now!”

He laughs, pulling his keys from the ignition and opening the door. She giggles with him, sliding out of the truck and all but dragging him with her. He kicks the door shut, his arms wrapped around her stomach and his face buried in the side of her neck. She squeals gleefully when he lifts her, her back pressed against his chest as he kisses the side of her neck and spins her around. The cold air nips at her stomach, exposed from where her shirt rides up. 

“Malachai,” she whines, her hand sliding behind her and into his hair, tugging a tad harshly, “please hurry, baby.”

“You’re no fun, angel,” he murmurs against her skin but sets her down nonetheless. 

She wraps her hands around his arm, tugging him to jog after her, her giggles spilling into the night, no doubt waking up some of the other students as she leads him through the campus. She doesn’t care, she hasn’t felt this free in ages. He laughs with her and the sound of his joy exhilarates her, lighting her whole being up with a dangerous kind of fire. It weighs down her limbs, pooling in her stomach and soaking her jeans. His hand links with hers, his fingers squeezing hers as her body tingles. She’s so close to her dorm she can taste it- taste him and everything he’s going to do to her- and she hurries quicker.

She tugs him around a corner and he stops abruptly. Her heart jumps in her throat, wondering for a moment if he’s changed his mind. When she turns to look at him, though, his dark eyes pour over her, his lip pulled between his teeth. He looks like he wants to take her right here on the stoop of a dorm that isn’t her own. She squeezes her thighs, trying to ignore the part of her that reels at the thought.

“Kai-”

He pushes her against the brick of her dorm building, his mouth slamming against hers, his tongue slipping between her lips, “Malachai, princess. That’s my name. Say it.”

She moans at his soft and stern tone, grinding her hips against his the best she can, “Malachai, I need you.”

He nods against her lips, his hands wrapping around her hips and pulling her up his body. She wraps her legs around him, sighing when he pushes her harder into the wall with his hips, pressing his hard length against her covered core and moaning into her mouth. His scent consumes her, lingering in her chest when he pulls back, his eyes consumed by darkness. Her heart thunders when his nostrils flare, her thighs clenching around him at the sight of his flushed cheeks.

“What room number,” he pants, grinding his hips and sending another relentless wave of heat racing through her.

She presses her mouth against his, her tongue lapping at his minty lips, “I’m in 102.” She tugs his bottom lip, pulling a heated groan from his chest, “it’s just a few doors down. Please, Malachai.”

She kisses down the side of his throat as Kai searches for her room, running her nose along his warm skin and sinking as far into his arms as possible. She tugs the key out of her bag when he slows, leaning away from him to unlock the door before turning the knob and all but falling into her room. She giggles as they stumble, pushing the door shut quickly and throwing her keys to the floor. No need for those anymore.

He tosses her on her bed and she can’t help but giggle at the feeling of her plush blanket, knowing soon it will be brushing her bare back as he slides into her. He makes quick work of her heels, pulling them off and tossing them to the side. She winces when she hears them clunk somewhere in her room- that loud sound better not have been one of them breaking, Kai- but is soon distracted when he kicks his own boots off, kneeling on the bed and crawling towards her. The bed sinks at his knees and her body thrums in anticipation.

As soon as he’s within arms reach she grabs him, her fingers twisting in his t-shirt as she hauls his body over hers. Well, she tells herself that she’s the one who brings him closer. In reality it’s he who complies, letting her command him in whichever way she so pleases. He leans down, finding her mouth and kissing her hard, lowering some of his weight onto her. She moans, pressing back against him and wishing that his clothes would just vanish already, their mutual affinity for jeans starting to become a problem.

“Angel, fuck,” he murmurs as her hands slide once more under his shirt and he grabs her fingers, pulling her wrists above her head, “I need permission right now before we keep going. Yes; I fuck you. No; we cuddle. I am more than fine with both options.” One of his hands slides down her belly and wraps around her hips, fire flaring everywhere he touches, “what’ll it be, princess?”

He hovers over her, his gray eyes soft on hers. For the first time tonight she can see them clearly and her breath hitches, an unexpected wave of emotion flooding her chest at the way he’s looking at her. All that talk about darkness and he’s anything but. She yanks her arms from his hand, instead loosely hanging them around his neck. She arches her chest as close to him as she can, feeling each layer of clothes between them in agonizing detail.

“As wonderful as cuddles sound,” she tangles her legs around his hips, pulling his hardness back to her heat, “I really need you to fuck me.”

A wicked grin settles over Kai’s face, his lips drawing to her ear and pulling the lobe between his teeth, tugging hard, his words sending shivers through her body, “then I think it’s high time these clothes go, don’t you?”

She nods, her voice choosing once more to vanish at the most inopportune moment. He pulls her onto her knees, his lips brushing her jaw softly as his hands find the hem of her shirt for the last time, dragging it slowly up her stomach and over her chest before finally discarding it next to the bed. His fingertips draw over her skin lightly, his pinkies grazing the valley of her breasts and his thumbs smoothing over her collarbones. Even the slightest touch makes her clench, knowing he’ll soon be putting those fingers to good work.

She thanks the heavens for a moment that she thought to put on a nice bra, her body flushing with heat when Kai sucks in a breath at the blue lace barely concealing her peaked nipples. His hands circle her waist, his thumbs trailing fire over her soft skin. He darts his tongue out again against his bottom lip, watching her breasts rise and fall with her breaths like a starved man. If a look could ever make someone come on the spot it would be this one. She takes a sharp breath, her chest swelling, the cups of her bra stretching, and his eyes darken.

“Fucking hell, you really are an angel, aren’t you?” he slides his hands up her ribcage, over the flimsy material covering her and flicking her hard nipples, his mouth falling open in a half smile at her breathy sounds, “my angel.”

She gasps, her eyes as wide as saucers, and Kai smiles, fully, his eyes flitting to hers as he does it again, watching her face as his fingers lazily sweep back and forth over her buds. Each brush of his fingers sends a jolt of electricity straight to her core, her body tensing at each pinch. Her hands jut out, grabbing onto his shoulders as to not fall over from the sensation. She squeezes her thighs, rubbing her jean clad legs together in her best attempt to quell the raging fire but it’s useless. Only he can put it out and he knows it, chuckling- a sound like ice cream melting on a hot day; slow and sweet- at her sweet agony before finally slipping behind her back, his fingers finding the clasp of her bra.

“Perhaps I should leave this on, hmm?” Kai teases and she whines, arching her back into his hand. “Watch the way you bounce,” he leans down, his mouth capturing one of her nipples through the lace, his tongue hot and wet against her, “the way the lace pulls.” His teeth find the edge of the cup gently, careful not to ruin it as he drags it over her chest. She jolts when his lips graze her nipple directly, a small taste of his electricity, “what do you think angel?”

As soon as her breast is free from the lace she digs her fingers through his hair, desperately pushing his face back to her chest, “please take it off.”

He laughs, his hot breath fanning her bud as his fingers pull at the hooks behind her back, finally releasing her from the suddenly constricting material. She hears it hit the floor but she doesn’t watch where it lands, her eyes locked on Kai’s as he lowers his mouth back to her nipple, his other palm sliding up her ribs to tease her other breast. His hair tickles her skin as he flicks his tongue over her, his fingers imitating the same sensation, twisting and flicking her peaked bud in time to the laps of his mouth. Her stomach twists, her core dripping from the stimulation. 

“Malachai,” she pleads, her fingers tugging at his hair, trying to find his eyes desperately, “please more. I need more.”

Kai tugs her nipple between his teeth, biting harshly and pulling a small hum of pleasure from her lips as waves of heat attack her body, “patience, angel.” He runs his tongue over her burning bud, soothing her skin once more, “I want you to feel everything. I want you to remember it- me.” He kisses across her chest, pressing his lips gently against her sternum, “every kiss-” he bites at her breast, sucking her skin roughly into his mouth, sending another jolt through her core, “every bite.” His hands drag down her stomach, lazily drawing circles as he teases the waistband of her jeans, “I want you to think about me in every class, I want my name to be the only thing you can say when you go to answer a question. That will take patience-” he kisses her stomach, his tongue dipping against her bellybutton and his fingers grazing the lace under her jeans, “but I think maybe these can go.”

She moans her agreement, the sound tearing from her throat as she nods, most likely once a coherent thought but now just a mess of want- of need. Kai quickly pops the button of her jeans, his fingers digging into the waistband and yanking, tugging her pants down in a way that very much goes against his wish for slow. She lifts her hips from the bed, helping him as much as she can to get the damn pants off. He chuckles as she writhes, each gentle laugh zeroing in on her now barely covered core and sparking little fires across her clit. The sound of the material finally pooling on her floor is like music to her ears but her eyebrows furrow when she looks at him, still completely clothed.

She sits up on her elbows, biting her lip, “come here,” she coos, her voice breathy and her chest heaving, “please, Malachai. C’mere,” she sighs when he complies, her fingers twisting his shirt when he settles between her thighs, “this should have come off ages ago.”

She clenches her bare thighs around his own jean covered legs, mewling as the rough material scratches deliciously at her skin.

“Of course, angel,” his nose skims over her neck as she pulls the material from his body, his voice low and teasing, her fingers gliding over the hard dips of his abdomen, “where are my manners.”

She hums happily- a kitten purring from some much needed attention- as he pushes her back, his sculpted stomach now fully on display for her viewing pleasure as the soft blanket tickles her bare skin. His attention is now focused on the matching, blue lace that is not even trying to conceal her core. Kai slides off her bed, kneeling beside her, and her mind races, her heart thumping hard in her chest. What are you-

Her thoughts are interrupted when his hands dig into her hips, tugging her so that her legs dangle off the bed. He spreads her thighs, his eyes latched on hers as he leans down, kissing the inside of her thigh much too lightly. Her fingers dig into the comforter as he pulls her legs over his now bare shoulders, his hot skin soothing her aching muscles. He plants another gentle kiss on her other thigh and she almost screams- do something Kai, do anything, please- her breath ragged as she watches his lips crawl closer to the soaked lace. She digs her heels against his back, hoping to spur him closer to her.

He runs his nose along the lace, straight down her clit and she gasps, the sensation like lava flowing through her veins, “Kai!”

He flicks his head up, squeezing her hips harder, “what did I already say about that, angel,” he kisses under her belly button, purposefully avoiding her throbbing nub, “what’s my name?”

His gray eyes are wild, filled with a hunger that makes her clench around her emptiness.

She digs her heels harder against him as his teeth tug at the lace, his name a delicious moan on her tongue, “Malachai.”

“Very good,” he praises, “you’re so good for me, baby.”

She moans again as he strikes gold, no response to the name other than pure lust filling her body. His hands tug at her panties, finally pulling the last article of clothing- if a piece of sheer lace even counts as clothing- from her body, exposing her pulsing clit to the cool air of her room. He sucks in a breath, leaning down to blow warm air against her, spreading her legs even further. She throbs, watching as he finally lowers his mouth, his tongue licking a stripe directly to her core and planting stars behind her eyes.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans, more to himself than her, his muscled arms wrapping around her thighs and crushing her to him, “I was right you taste like fucking candy. So damn sweet.”

He dives back against her, his hot tongue flicking her bud back and forth. Waves of white fire pour through her, compressing together in the pit of her stomach. Her fingers dig into the sheets, tugging at the plush comforter because she knows if she runs her fingers through Kai’s hair she might just rip it out. Her back arches, her breasts greeting the air as Kai’s tongue swipes straight to her core again, dipping into her heat before going back to her clit sucking hard. 

He moves one of his hands between her legs, his fingertips lazily circling her entrance as he continues to devour her, “so wet for me, baby. From the moment I first touched you,” he muses, his eyes finding hers over the arch of her sternum and swell of her breasts, “it’s like you knew I was coming.”

“Maybe I did,” she pants, squeezing her thighs around the man buried between her legs, letting out a strangled gasp when he sinks one of his fingers into her, “maybe ever since I locked eyes on you-” another gasp, this time from him pushing a second finger in and curling them both- “I’ve wondered how I’m going to forget you.”

He curls his fingers faster at her words, sucking that much harder on her nub. His eyes stay latched on hers, dark and determined. The ball of fire grows dangerously as his fingers brush over a spot- the spot- and she groans, her hand finding his hair. She doesn’t care anymore, tugging harshly on his silky hair and pushing his face as close to her as she can, grinding against his lips as her whole body starts to tingle. It’s like someone replaced her veins with fluorescents and Kai’s tongue is the outlet. 

“Well maybe,” Kai curls his fingers and her body jolts, teetering on the sweet edge of nothingness, “baby,” his voice is just this side of taunting, his tongue finding a tortuous rhythm, “I don’t want you to forget me.” 

He curls his fingers one more time and she falls- quite possibly in more than one way- over the edge, an earth shattering orgasm tearing through her entire body, “fuck, Malachai!”

Her body trembles in his arms, his fingers still twisting inside her, his mouth still latched to her, sucking and licking until she comes down from her high. She sinks back into her comforter, entirely spent and limbs heavy, his name still a moan on her lips. Her heat throbs, clenching and unclenching as she watches him stand. Maybe she isn’t so tired after all. She pushes her heels into her bed, crawling back towards her pillows as his hands find his belt, making quick work of the leather. He doesn’t bother pulling it from the loops, he just hooks his fingers in his jeans, his taut muscles heaving as he shoves his clothes off in one steady push.

She moans as her eyes land on everything he’s been keeping from her, her mouth watering at the sight of his thick, hard shaft bouncing slightly against his abs. She sinks back against her pillows, her toes curling at the thought of him- what was it Kai said? Oh, right- fucking her into next week. She stretches her arm out, her eyes lidded in anticipation and her nipples peaking once more, and curls her fingers at him. Come here, she almost screams, come burn yourself into my very being. She’s doing her best to remain composed but her skin is flushed, the feeling of his lips still fresh on her body, and her core aches to be filled with something more than his fingers. 

He kneels on the bed once more, his lips tilted and his eyes dark, and he crawls back to her body. He grabs her thighs when he reaches her, pushing her knees to her chest and baring her core him, stretching her muscles deliciously. She grabs his shoulders, digging her fingers into his warm skin and tugging him to hover over her, her legs pressed between them. His shaft presses against her still sensitive clit and she hisses, giggling slightly from the stimulation.

“Angel,” Kai murmurs, his lips pressing against hers as he rocks his hips against her, his tip teasing her entrance, “fuck, just tell me you don’t want to forget me.” He pushes in a few inches and she gasps, cooing at the way he’s already stretching her walls, “tell me you’re mine-” he pushes further, his eyes locking on hers and making her core tighten, her fingers digging harder into his skin. “Tell me you’re mine even if you’re lying.”

He pushes all the way into her, his thighs pressed against hers and his hand shoved into the pillows beside her head, keeping him from falling against her. She feels the most full she’s ever felt, her heat pulsing as he gives her a moment to adjust. She can feel each breath he takes, each slight bump of his hips as he holds himself back, each twitch inside her like he’s a lit match and her body is a temple about to be burned to the ground. She shifts against him and a line of fire zings straight from her bellybutton, a tremor of pleasure shocking her heart. Burn me, please, she chants in her head.

“How could I forget about you?” She breathes, her mouth falling open when he slowly pulls back, only to snap his hips back into hers, driving himself deeper than the first time, “why would I- ah,” Kai presses his chest against her knees, pushing her further into the mattress and leaning on his forearms, circling his hips and stealing the air from her lungs, “I’m yours, Malachai.” She resigns, her train of thought long gone, “all yours.”

“Absolutely right, baby,” he growls, pulling out of her again and slamming back into her as soon as the words are out of her mouth, “mine.”

His hand grabs her knee, pulling her legs apart to wrap around him as he settles into a faster pace. She wraps her arms around his neck, her fingers anchoring in his hair and tugging his lips to hers. She squeezes her thighs around his hips, her toes curling from his bruising pace, whining when he almost pulls all the way out of her once again before thrusting back. She arches her spine, her chest bouncing against his as he circles her arm around her back, pulling her flush against him.

She drags a hand down Kai’s back, her nails digging against his skin and drawing a sinful moan from him. His lips latch on to her jaw as he thrusts harder into her, his arm sliding behind her neck and holding her closer, “fuck, you’re so tight-”

He lifts to his knees, bringing her with him and shifting the angle of his thrusts, his shaft brushing the same spot from before. She lets go of his shoulders, falling back into her pillows to grip her fuzzy sheets for dear life. She can feel the fire from before start building again, only this time hotter, and she rocks back against him, doing her best to match his pace but it’s impossible. He has her legs around his waist still, her bottom half clean off the mattress as he pounds her top half into the pillows; there is nothing for her to do but let the pleasure wash over her. 

Kai pulls her leg further up his chest, hanging it from his shoulder as he smirks, tugging his lip between his teeth, “if only you could see how pretty you look princess, all stretched out for me.” She clenches at his words, the ball of fire pulsing dangerously, and he tightens his hand on her thigh, his eyes going dark, “do you like it when I praise you baby?” His voice is throaty and she can feel him twitch, just as close to coming undone as she is, and her walls clamp around him harder this time, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“More,” she begs, screwing her eyes shut and letting the sound of his voice push her closer to the cliff, “tell me more. Please!”

He sucks in a sharp breath, his hips slamming impossibly harder against hers, brushing that magical spot relentlessly. His fingers slide down her leg, dragging through her folds to find her throbbing nub, circling his fingers lightly and drawing a strangled scream from her lips.

“And what should I tell you, hmm?” He presses harder against her clit, his fingers picking up the pace to keep time with his increasingly sloppier thrusts, “should I tell you that you look exquisite wrapped around my cock?” She moans, his words making white flash behind her eyes, her core squeezing and sending the first taste of her second orgasm spiraling through her, “that I can’t wait to flip you over in a minute and make you cum again,” her legs jerk, the second wave so much more intense than the first, so much more earth shattering, “and again,” he pushes into her one last time, throwing them both over the edge, “and again, angel.”

Her whole body splinters when he empties himself into her, meeting her release with his with a shuddered breath. She can’t even scream his name- god, she certainly tries though- the white, hot pleasure coursing through her veins, stirring a new life into her bones, only allows her to whisper it. Mouth it over and over again as he collapses against her sticky chest. Fuck, Malachai. He pulls out of her and she hisses, swallowing the last wave of electricity as she stretches her bones, delighting in the careful pop of her joints. 

“Fuck,” Kai rolls onto his back, his eyes shut and his mouth wide open, “that was-” he props himself up on his elbow, his eyes now open and swimming over her face, “that was just wow, baby. Fucking wow.”

She giggles breathlessly, her legs jelly as she turns to him, reaching her arms out. Her body still craves him, her skin aching to press against his in a way she’s never experienced. He wastes no time scooping her up, wrapping an arm behind her knees and pooling her on his chest. His other hand glides up her spine, his fingers pressing hungrily into her flesh. Her thighs slip around his hips as she sinks against his chest, her face finding the crook of his neck. His hands work at the kinks in her shoulders and she shivers, her body starting to light up again.

“Fucking wow,” she agrees as she presses her lips against his throat, squeezing her thighs as his fingers draw lower again, swiping over the dip at the base of her spine as she murmurs a soft, “you don’t have to leave yet, do you?” 

Kai’s body tenses under hers and her heart stutters, her chest stinging- oh, maybe he does. 

“If you do though that’s okay,” she rushes out quickly, pushing her hands against his chest to put some distance between the two of them, “I don’t want to keep you if you, uh, have places to be, I guess-”

He tightens his arms around hers, sitting up quickly, keeping her in his arms as he does so, “I have nowhere to be but here.” He presses his lips against hers and she sighs, reveling in his slightly salty taste, “nowhere I want to be but here, princess”

She nods, brushing her nose against his, “okay.”

Her fingers tangle through his matted hair and he sighs, leaning down to brush her back. Okay. It’s not what she wants to say- something more along the lines of please never leave- but she can settle for it for now. She shifts to straddle his thighs better, pressing her chest against him and sighing at the growing electricity. Round three it is. When she kisses him back she can swear she tastes a hint of her bubblegum gloss on his lips.

“Okay,” he agrees.