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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years ago

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I wonder what it’s like to be loved by you // Benedict Bridgerton

Summary: You’ve loved him for as long as you can remember. Is this the season where he finally realises?

A/N: I LOVE BENEDICT. I love him so much. What do I have to do to get a Benedict? Title is from Shawn Mendes - Wonder. I had so much fun writing this fic, I can’t wait to write more for the Bridgerton fandom! I truly hope you all like it, let me know what you think please?

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of food and drink, fluff, pining, mutual pining, dancing, balls, obliviousness, friends to lovers, she/her pronouns, a lot of history - I am a historian after all and this is the regency era.

Word count: 4.8k

Lady Danbury never spared any expense on the balls she held every season. She knew full well that many a match could be made that night so there was not only pressure from the ton, but also a responsibility that this ball must outdo all others thrown before – by herself and other matriarchs in society.

A feat she always managed to achieve, the elder thinks to herself as she watches your eyes widen upon entering the ornately decorated room. Looking you up and down, she approves of your outfit – a dark blue dress punctuated with silver jewellery, hair twisted into an updo with only a few strands hanging loose to frame your face. From her spot across the ballroom, Lady Danbury wonders how you hadn’t married yet.

As the band strikes up, Lady Danbury walks into the fray, greeting her guests with a smile. All the while, she keeps a trained eye on you, wondering who on earth had captured your heart but had not noticed.

-------------

No matter how hard he tried, the charcoal would not wash from his fingers. Having scrubbed and scrubbed at his hands, Benedict could only offer you a smile of apology as you not only noted his lateness but the state of his hands.

“It’s very fortunate that you are a talented artist,” You comment with a teasing smile.

Benedict reaches for your hand, dropping a kiss to the back of it before answering. “I class myself as very fortunate to have a friend like you who understands how easy it is to get lost in a sketch or a painting.”

You roll your eyes, careful not to let anyone else but Benedict see your act of impropriety. He smirks, unable to help himself.

“You’re a shameful flatterer, Benedict.”

“Some might even call me a ‘rake’,” He replies, his tone teasing.

“I shall save that for when you’ve really annoyed me.”

He laughs; a loud chuckle that draws the attention of those closest to you. Most notably, Benedict’s mother, Violet Bridgerton and Lady Danbury.

Benedict clears his throat; cheeks flushed not only from the attention but from the knowledge that his mother would soon be making her way over to him. He adored his mother; was grateful for her every day, but he could happily admit he could live without the meddling in his love life. He grabs your gloved hand once more; kissing the back of it in parting before asking, “Save me a dance on your card?”

“Always,” You answer, watching his back as he stalks away. Benedict narrowly avoids being collared by his mother, an act to which you find yourself smiling at.

With thoughts of Benedict in mind, you wander around the outskirts of the ballroom, your dark blue skirts swishing pleasantly under foot. You pause only to grab a lemonade from the table, sipping happily at the cold drink.

You catch sight of the brunette that had stolen your heart dancing with Penelope Featherington and though you know there is no romance there, your heart is unable to stop the hurt that lashes through it. Schooling your face into a mask of polite delight, you force yourself to turn away from the sight of the man you had so readily given your heart to dancing with someone else.

“How long have you been in love with my brother?” A raspy voice asks from behind you.

Your lemonade splashes slightly as you turn to face your interrogator. “Eloise!” You laugh, smiling too wide to be comfortable, “Whatever do you mean?”

Eloise’s shrewd blue eyes narrow slightly as she takes in your dismissal. She waves her hand in the general direction of Benedict though you knew exactly where he was – could feel his location thrumming in your veins.

“Don’t play coy, (Y/N). It doesn’t become you. Now, how long have you been in love with Benedict?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? How long had you loved Benedict? Thinking back on it, you’re sure that you’ve always loved him. Your family had been good friends with the Bridgerton family for as long as you could remember. Your mother was always having tea with Violet and you were always thrust upon the eight siblings without much worry. Your friendship with Benedict had started in earnest when you had complimented his art skills, bringing up how you liked to draw too. From there, a close friendship was forged.

By your twentieth year on this earth, you realised that your feelings for the second Bridgerton were no longer platonic… that you craved something more. Falling for Benedict Bridgerton felt inevitable almost; that your heart was destined to be his whether he knew it or not.

Sighing heavily, you see no point in lying to the second eldest Bridgerton girl. “For as long as I can remember,” You admit, rushing to add on, “But he doesn’t know so please don’t tell him!”

Eloise’s eyes widen at your confession, not only shocked that you readily admitted your feelings for her elder brother, but for how long you have harboured them. “Is that why you have not yet married?” She demands, “Because you loved him?”

Biting your lip, you nod. “It wouldn’t be fair to my husband. Their wife in love with another man – it doesn’t exactly set stable foundations for a long, prosperous marriage and…”

“And…” Eloise prompts, her innate curiosity getting the better of her. If her mother could hear her now, she would surely receive a scolding.

You ball your hands into fists before letting them drop to your sides; letting them hang there like the constant hope you have for Benedict.

“And I still hope he’ll notice I’m here. That I have been here all along,” You voice cracks on the admission causing a pang of upset to flash through Eloise. She’d reach out to comfort you, but it would only draw attention from the many mothers circling and no doubt, Lady Whistledown.

“(Y/N)…” Eloise begins but you hold a single hand up to stop her before she starts. With a strained smile, you reassure her. “It’s fine, Eloise. I accept it with every season that passes that it is unlikely he shall ever return my feelings.”

“Then he is a fool,” Eloise states plaining, sending a glare in the direction of her beloved brother. She had no qualms admitting that Benedict was indeed her favourite sibling, but he had his moments where he vexed her beyond belief.

“Who is a fool?” A voice questions to the right of you. Benedict.

Freezing in place, you cast a helpless look at Eloise, begging her silently to take control of this situation. Eloise smiles and nods imperceptibly. She turns towards her brother, hooking her arm through yours as she declares, “The men that have not offered their hand to (Y/N) yet. They’re all fools, aren’t they dear brother.”

Benedict casts his gaze towards you; his eyes scanning your face for what, he does not know. “Fools,” He agrees quietly though he is heard perfectly over the music. “Would you care to dance?” He asks, wanting you to himself for a little while. As much as he loved his younger sister, she was a keen observer, and he wasn’t ready for her to figure out his feelings just yet. Not when he hadn’t admitted them to you.

Nodding your head, you take his outstretched hand, bidding goodbye to Eloise for now. The brunette shakes her head as the both of you walk away. Oblivious, she thinks to herself, completely oblivious.

As the music strikes up once more, it becomes obvious that the next dance is a waltz, requiring the closeness of your partner. It was only years ago that this dance had scandalised the ton for its closeness – now, it was required at every ball, many married couples savouring the intimacy.

Benedict’s hand settles on the small of your back as his other grips your hand. Your hand rests comfortably on his shoulder as he begins to lead you through the steps you have known since your youth.

Music around you fades as do the other couples. The only two people in the room are Benedict and yourself. The feel of his hand on your back and the look in his eyes; it’s enough to have you accept your fate then and there. It’s enough for you to admit that you have been ruined for any and all men; finding yourself in love with the man who holds you so tenderly and has always held you in high regard. Is this it? You ask yourself, is this what it feels like to be loved by him? To feel like the only one in the world. If it is, you’ll take it with open hands.

Your eyes do not leave his as Benedict leads you through the rises and falls of the dance. His hand remains a steady presence on your lower back; the feeling just enough to distract you from the crowd now watching you and instead, leading you to wonder what his hands would feel like elsewhere on your body.

As the music falls into another song; this one more upbeat, Benedict drops his hands, letting you free. He hadn’t wanted to; had wanted to pull you from the ballroom, to confess the feelings that have haunted him for years and to ask you to be his for better or for worse.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he bows and smiles, reaches for your hand to kiss it and then lets himself breathe as he turns and walks away.

-------------

Dear Reader,

Though there is much to report from Lady Danbury’s ball last night – the fashion, the food, the décor – This Author wants to focus on one moment in particular.

Now, Dear Reader, whilst you may wonder the importance of such a moment, remember that it is one’s job to observe all. That is why I want to bring attention to Mr. Benedict Bridgerton who found himself extremely popular last night, dancing with many eligible women and delighting them with his talents.

However, Dear Reader, this is not the moment I want to focus on.

No. Instead, I want to bring attention to the heart most likely suffering in silence as Mr. Bridgerton continues to charm the ton.

As you all know, I am not one to beat around the proverbial bush and hide identities, but for the sake of the woman who has found herself in love with the second eldest Bridgerton for as long she can remember, I shall endeavour to keep her name a secret.

Know, however, that This Author’s sympathies lie with you.

To love another unrequitedly is a dear shame.

----------

The gossip sheet is scrunched to a ball in your hands. It’s all you can do to keep the tears from falling down your face. As if you didn’t know your love was unrequited; as if you didn’t know you had all but doomed yourself to being a spinster as you wait for a man who did not know you loved him.

Lady Whistledown knew your secret, and your identity. As a result, the whole ton knew your secret but whatever morals the author possesses, she had not revealed your identity.

Summoning the carriage, you ask to be taken to Bridgerton House where you can speak to Eloise in confidence and ask for her advice on what she might do. Deep down, you had to know whether Benedict had read the paper too.

It doesn’t take long for Eloise to find you in the tea room; a cup of tea in your hands but readily ignored as you chew on the inside of your cheek. Her brown hair tied up in her usual bun, her eyes hold the pity you didn’t want to see or hear as of this moment.

“I didn’t know she was listening, I swear,” Eloise promises, sitting by your side and reaching for your hand.

“I know,” You comfort, “You would never tell a soul.”

“At least she didn’t reveal your identity,” Eloise chirps, trying to find a silver lining.

“Yet she has revealed my secret to the entirety of London society,” You sigh. Removing your hand from Eloise’s, you press your palm to your forehead, feeling overwhelmingly tired and desperate for the day to be over already. “Does he know?”

Eloise chews on her bottom lip, deciding whether to answer you. “He has read it,” She admits, but rushes to add, “He doesn’t know it’s you! He doesn’t have a clue really. He’s angrier at himself for not noticing anything was amiss.”

“I don’t know what to do,” You whisper, feeling helpless.

“For now,” Eloise states, “We do nothing.”

---------

Your heels sink into the soft carpet as you wander down the stairs, pausing only to check you have everything. Your mind remains elsewhere as you check your bag out of habit, the conversation with Eloise, the latest gossip sheet, your feelings for Benedict. They circle around your mind, leaving you dizzy in their wake as you try to make sense of them all, try to find your next step in and amongst the mess.

“(Y/N),” Benedict greets, hurrying down the final few stairs, pleasantly surprised, “What are you doing here? I didn’t know you were visiting.”

“I came to drop in on Eloise. I wanted to thank her for last night; she was an ear when I needed someone to listen.”

“Is it anything I can help with?” He asks, voice taking on a concerned note as he reaches out for you.

You shake your head, squeezing his hand in return. “For now, everything is okay.”

Benedict clears his throat. “I’m glad to hear it, but please come to me next time. I want to help if I can.”

“I will,” You promise, your eyes now scanning over his fine clothes. “Where are you off to?”

“An art exhibition at Somerset House. They’re showing some Holbein’s from the Royal collection.”

“Holbein’s?” You ask, shocked at the name falling from Benedict’s mouth.

He nods, just as excited. It was a rare thing indeed to have Holbein’s on display; they were usually kept in whatever royal residence they found themselves in; hidden away from the public eye. Art was the very foundation of your friendship; having seen so many of his sketches as a young boy and watching them develop into surer lines and confident strokes. Benedict was an exceptionally talented artist – something he would say about yourself. Benedict was the only person to see such work; the watercolours in your sketchpad leaving him breathless as you bring life to the inanimate.

“Would you like to join me?” He asks before he can talk himself out of it. He had barely seen you all season; you had closed in yourself, as if accepting a fate that you did not want. Benedict would do what he could to ensure your happiness for a little bit longer.

“Unchaperoned?”

A faint blush rises on Benedict’s cheeks as he realises what he has asked of you. “I shall ask Eloise to accompany us,” He suggests, turning to face the direction in which you had just come, “Did she mention any plans to you?”

You shake your head to which Benedict leases a sigh of relief. “I’ll go ask her now. I’m sure she won’t mind… much.”

Laughing quietly, you wait patiently in the entryway of Bridgerton House. The house in London so often felt like a second home to you; spending so much of childhood summers here when your mother would take tea with the Bridgerton matriarch. As you grew into your teens, you would begin to visit the house with just your maid, calling on the family for social niceties. The friendship with Benedict and Eloise only solidified your standing in the close family unit.

Eloise’s voice brings you back to the present. She walks down the stairs, accompanied by her brother. Taking one look at you, waiting patiently for the both of them, Eloise gets a mischievous look in her eye. It isn’t a look that leaves you in comfort, but rather leaves you wondering just what she has planned for the art exhibition.

“Eloise has so graciously accepted to join us,” Benedict announces, sounding rather pleased with himself.

Eloise smiles: a smile that sets Benedict’s nerves on edge. He would owe her for this, that much he knew. “I would be more than happy to accompany you, brother.”

Benedict resists the urge to groan; he’s in deep shit for this.

“Thank you, Eloise,” You murmur with a smile. Something in Eloise softens at your tone as if she would be unable to deny you this time with Benedict when it was their mother’s mission to see him married off this very season.

“Of course,” Eloise allows, glancing between you and Benedict – noting the longing in both sets of eyes. She shakes her head, gesturing to the door and where the carriages waits just beyond it. “Shall we?”

--------

“He wasn’t a handsome monarch, was he?” Eloise murmurs quietly, staring up at the grand portrait of the fearsome king who preferred executing his wives rather than loving them.

The walls of Somerset House have become dedicated to the eyes of the past. Past monarchs and relatives decorate the walls; their eyes following each attendant, as if curious to see how society is progressing less than three hundred years after the death of the artist.

Benedict chuckles; the very sound raising goosebumps across your skin. You barely repress the shiver the sound elicits. Trying your best to listen as the siblings argue about the reign of this particular monarch – the pros and the cons to what he did for the very country he ruled over for decades.

“Oh!” Eloise gasps, interrupting the argument and loosening her grip on your arm, she waves frantically at Penelope Featherington. “Would you mind terribly if I go say hello?”

“Not at all,” You laugh.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay with Benedict?”

The man in question scoffs, rolling his eyes at his little sister. “Off with you,” He dismisses, “I’ll escort (Y/N) – someone who actually appreciates the art.”

Eloise laughs as she turns away, but you do not miss the wink she sends in your direction. It hits you all at once; her mischievous look before you all left the house. She had concocted this plan in her head; accepting to accompany you as a rouse to get you and Benedict alone.

You didn’t know whether to appreciate her genius or hide her favourite book.

Jumping at the sound of someone clearing their throat, you focus your attention on Benedict. He watches you with an amused look, and it’s then that you realise that he has stood beside you waiting with his arm out for a minute or so whilst you glared after his younger sister. Taking his arm, you rid yourself of any thoughts of violence against Eloise. Instead, focusing on the man beside you.

“How are you?” You ask, hand resting gently on Benedict’s forearm.

“Do you mean in general or after today’s publication?”

“Both, I suppose.”

“In general, I am quite well. I have a wonderful lady on my arm, and I am in the presence of excellent art work. However, after today’s publication, I must admit I am rather angry.”

“Oh?” You sound, trying hard not to let his words affect you so much but they rattle around your mind on repeat, committing themselves where they will last for an eternity.

“I’ve never been the focus of the gossip paper and now after one ball, I am. I don’t think I like the attention.”

“I don’t believe that for one second, Benedict Bridgerton.”

He pauses, smiling widely down at you. His eyes light up with the smile and your heart begins to pound at the sight of it. “Alright, I do like the attention,” He concedes, “But what I don’t like are the looks I’m getting from all mothers.”

“Why?”

“They all look like I’m about to break their daughter’s heart.”

“I’m sure you’re just imagining things,” You reassure, tightening your grip on his arm.

“I don’t think I am,” He states, nodding politely at Lady Whitelaw who in turn glares at the younger man. He turns his gaze to you as if to say, see?

You turn your face away from him, trying your best to hide the smile and laugh that threatens to break free. “You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?” Benedict guesses, a smile in his own voice.

“I’m not,” You promise, schooling your face into a mask of indifference, focusing on the closest sketch to you. A graphite sketch of Anne Boleyn; marking her beauty only years before her death.

“You are,” Benedict argues, standing beside you, admiring the same sketch. Throwing him a knowing smile, you turn your attentions to rest of the exhibition, unable to hide your awe at just what is being shown to the public.

The art is incredible; your watercolours barely compare to what is being shown in Somerset House. He would disagree in a heartbeat, but Benedict could come close to producing something of this calibre. He had shown his portraits of his mother and brothers; Anthony making the perfect candidate for a painting.

You come to a natural stop in front of a portrait of a young women. A young queen, in fact. This particular queen had never got to reign in the manner that she was capable, dying after giving birth the king’s heir. His one true love, the king had called her after he death.

“She’s beautiful,” You whisper, admiring not only the artistry but also the focus on the painting.

Benedict watches you admiring the portrait painted so carefully by Holbein. Though the portrait is indeed beautiful, Benedict finds himself agreeing that they do not hold a candle to you. As he watches you lift a single hand, trying to dampen the urge to run your fingers over the brush strokes, he thinks to himself that there would be no artist on this earth that would be so talented to capture your beauty.

His breath comes faster; his heart rate increases. He recognises the symptoms; he’s only experienced such signs before. He had been eighteen then; barely a man but man enough to accept that he had fallen in love with his best friend. Years later, here he was, experiencing such feelings once more. Once more, he wonders what it would be like to be loved by you. He cannot help but hope that the mystery woman in the society papers is you.

-------

Dear Reader,

It seems that Mr. Benedict Bridgerton reads my paper!

He was overheard at the Somerset House Holbein exhibition, complaining to Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) about my last column in which I criticised his treatment of the lady in love with him.

All I have to say on the matter is this:

Mr. Bridgerton, for every complaint you offer, you break her heart further. Stop now before you do irreparable damage.

-----

“What does she mean ‘break her heart further’? I’ve been trying to figure out who it is so I can put a stop to it!”

“It doesn’t matter whether you know who it is, Benedict,” You argue, placing your teacup on the table, “But rather the fact that you unknowingly hurt whoever it is that is in love with you.”

“Do my feelings not matter?” He demands, throwing the damned paper onto the table. Benedict runs a hand through his hair, sighing in frustration. “I’m sorry,” He apologises, “I should not have taken that tone with you. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You’re forgiven,” You laugh, “I’ve heard you say a lot worse.”

He smiles though it doesn’t reach his eyes. Leaning forward on your chair, you wring your hands together, working up the nerve. “What feelings haven’t they taken into account?”

“Lady Whistledown,” He spits the name with derision, “Hasn’t taken into account that I may not have noticed someone in love with me because I am in love with someone myself.”

It’s as if the chair is pulled out from under you; your stomach dips and flips as the world crashes around you and Benedict is none the wiser. He’s none the wiser to the palpable shift that has taken place. Instead, he’s sat down across from, looking utterly defeated.

“Does she know?” You ask after a moment of silence, using the time to pull yourself back together, to compile it all and put it away for later.

Benedict shakes his head; eyes sad as he watches you. “Why haven’t you told her?” You ask, unable to stop the questions now they’re on the tip of your tongue.

“I suppose for the same reason she hasn’t told me. Fear maybe?”

“Fear of what? I’ve never known you to be afraid of anything.”

“Fear of rejection. Fear of humiliation. Fear of ruining a friendship,” He lists off, counting the reasons on his fingers, holding them up for you to see.

“Have you thought about telling her?”

“All the time,” He answers honestly, and you wonder whether the crack your heart makes was audible to the whole of the ton.

“Do you plan on telling them?”

“Eventually.”

You take a deep breath, staring at the teacup instead of him, readying yourself to offer up your broken heart. To confess that the two most recent society papers have been about you; have shown your heart to the whole of London.

“It’s me,” You confess quietly, voice no louder than a whisper but he hears you all the same.

Benedict’s head whips towards you. Had this been another situation, it would have been funny, but the look on his face… “What?” He whispers, shocked.

“It’s me,” You announce; louder this time, ready to lay your heart out on the floor for him to break entirely. “It’s me, Benedict. Lady Whistledown must have overheard Eloise and myself talking at Lady Danbury’s ball the other night. She had caught me watching you dance and asked me outright. I couldn’t deny it. I’ve been in love with you for years, Benedict. For as long as I can remember.”

“For as long as you can remember?”

You nod, wringing your hands together once more. “I didn’t realise until I turned twenty, just what my feelings meant. I think I’ve always been in love with you, Benedict.”

Benedict remains silent; eyes wide, hands slack as they rest on his thighs. He looks like he doesn't believe the very words leaving your mouth; as if he is unworthy of the love you offer him so willingly.

“Say something, please,” You plead, “I know it isn’t proper for the woman to announce her feelings for the man, but I couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. Not when it is the focus for Lady Whistledown to sell more copies of her paper.”

“I didn’t know,” He whispers after a prolonged silence.

“You weren’t to know. You don’t have to feel the same, Benedict.”

“I do as it happens.”

“What?”

“I do feel the same,” Benedict clarifies, standing from his chair, “I’ve loved you since I was eighteen.”

You sniffle slightly; emotional from hearing the words you have longed to hear for years. The words that have haunted your dreams; had you rushing from sleep, so you didn’t let yourself believe an alternate reality.

“You do?”

Benedict nods, “I do. I love you very much.”

“I love you too,” You reply, standing from your chair, reaching for him – not wanting anymore space between the two of you.

He dips his head, pausing mere millimetres away from your lips. The question burns in his eyes; desperate to know whether he can kiss you after so long waiting. Your nod is barely imperceptible but it’s nod, nonetheless.

Slowly, almost wanting to savour every moment, Benedict presses his lips to yours. Reaching up, you haul him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him pressed against you after having waited so long, after having dreamed of this moment for too long.

He tastes like tea and his hands bring to life the butterflies in your stomach as they wander the path of your back, settling on your lower back, dipping you slightly. Benedict groans softly at the feel of you lined up against him. If he had known heaven was this close, he would not have waited this long.

Benedict breaks the kiss; not out of need of air, but to stop himself from taking this too far when you feel like heaven pressed against him. You smile widely, kissing his jaw lovingly before starting to laugh lightly. Benedict’s hands on your waist tighten possessively as he joins you in laughter.

Briefly, he wonders whether this is what it feels like to be loved by you.

********

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagines

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imagine-a-life-like-this · 3 years ago

Text

Break My Heart (L.F/H.HJ)

Warnings : suggestive content

Word Count : 2821

Synopsis : she could feel herself falling for hyunjin, but after seeking comfort from felix, she realizes that maybe she’s not actually in love with hyunjin, but in love with felix.

She looked over to his sleeping figure, sleeping peacefully beside her while there’s an internal war happening between her heart and mind. Her hand hovers over his face, hesitating whether or not she should brush the hair out of his face. She leaves the apartment unheard instead.

How did it get this far, she wonders to herself, sitting in her car outside the apartment building. He was just a friend, one of her best friends since childhood, and that’s all he was supposed to be. Until one drunken night when lust took over their bodies and she woke up in his bed for the first time. No strings attached. They whispered between stolen kisses, but over time, the strings began to attach.

She found herself jealous whenever he was talking to another girl, jealous that someone else was getting the attention she so desperately craved. In the early mornings as the sun is starting to rise, she finds herself hesitating to leave, wondering what he would do if he were to wake up and she was still there. Would he wrap his arms around her and press delicate kisses to her face? Or would he coldly kick her out like the others?

She likes to believe she’s different than the other girls; better in a way. They are best friends after all. The friendship they’ve built over the years hasn’t changed at all with this new development, but she knew it would if her feelings were to be known. He doesn’t do feelings, and she knows she will never be the exception.

He wakes in an empty bed, feeling emptier than usual, and he knows why. Once again she disappeared before sunlight, before he woke up. It’s for the best, he reminds himself, but he wishes just once she would stay. Give him the chance to fall in love with her like he so desperately wants. The crush he’s had on her since high school slowly growing over the years, but never reaching love.

He doesn’t do feelings, but she’s different. She’s always been different. She’s different in the best ways. He can be himself around her, he can feel vulnerable and self conscious when she’s around; she doesn’t judge him. Instead she tells him reassuring words, helping him love himself once again. He can open his heart to her and know that she would never hurt him, not in the ways he’s been hurt in the past, not at all.

But they’re just friends, best friends. She’s a person he can’t lose, so instead of opening himself up to these growing feelings, he pushes them down and pretends they don’t exist. He pretends they aren’t there until lust takes over and he kisses her with passion. He takes his time with her, savouring every moment like it’s his last. Sex with her is different because it doesn’t feel like hooking up; it feels like love. Like a love that can last.

She meets her other best friend, Felix, at the café on campus before class, like they do every day. Her coffee is already paid for and on the table in front of an empty chair. “Good morning, angel.” Felix smiles, pushing the coffee closer to her as she sits. He takes in how exhausted she looks; not just physically but emotionally as well. Bags hang under her eyes, an obvious attempt to cover them failed.

She doesn’t say anything as she holds the warm cup in her hands, taking a sip and tasting the sweet taste of her favourite coffee, her order exactly as she likes it. “Can we skip, just for today?” She speaks softly, so softly that if Felix wasn’t entuned with everything about her, he wouldn’t have heard a single word.

“Anything for you, angel.” He closes the notebook he’s been studying from and takes one of her hands in his from across the table. “Did you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” Yes. She does, but she can’t bring herself to say the words. I’m in love with Hyunjin. The words are stuck in her throat, burning to be released, but she meets Felix’s happy eyes and can’t bring herself to say them.

“I’m just really tired today.” She lies. She lies so easily she wonders when she’s changed so much. She never made it a habit to lie to her best friend, knowing Felix knows her better than she knows herself.

“Movies and cuddles?” He asks, a soft smile on his face as she agrees with a quick nod of her head. He wanted to do everything he could to see her smile again; the same smile that takes his breath away. She was his angel, that was no secret, but she was also his first love, and that was a secret.

“You’re heading for class already?” They heard the familiar sound of the third person of their small group, the same group from middle school. Hyunjin could see the exhaustion written on her features, wondering if she even got any sleep the previous night. Is it hard for her to sleep next to him even though he only sleeps peacefully with her by his side?

“We were actually going to do a movie day today.” She spoke up, trying her best to keep her voice even while looking at Hyunjin, taking in how absolutely ethereal he looks even so early in the morning.

Hyunjin watched as she left with Felix, their hands clasped together. He could feel her slowly slipping through his fingers, landing in Felix’s open arms. He knew Felix would be the better choice for her, always waiting for her with open arms and her favourite snacks and drinks. Felix knew everything about her, learning her likes and dislikes and her life story throughout the years of knowing each other.

But Felix doesn’t know her the way Hyunjin does. He doesn’t know each and every curve of her body, the way her toes curl as pleasure takes over. He doesn’t know about the freckles on her back that Hyunjin loves to connect with his fingers while they drift off to sleep. He doesn’t know how she shies away when her clothes come off, not realizing just how beautiful she is.

Hyunjin knows the stories behind all her scars. He traces them with his fingers, pressing delicate kisses as he whispers how beautiful he finds her. He knows she closes her eyes, scared of the intimacy of eye contact in the moment. He knows the small squeaks that turn into loud moans when she can no longer hold back.

He likes to believe he knows her intimately, but intimacy is more than being naked and having sex. It’s knowing why she hides her face when she gets a compliment. It’s knowing her comfort drink when she needs a hug from the inside. It’s knowing why she doesn’t expand her friend group, keeping just Hyunjin and Felix in her close circle despite many people begging to be let in.

Hyunjin knows what she’s like in bed, knows what she looks like naked. He knows about the scars and the stretch marks. He knows about the hidden birth marks.

But Felix knows what makes her tick. He knows her favourite thing to drink on rainy days. He knows her coffee order down to the exact amount of sugar. He knows what her parents do for a living, and how often she speaks to them. Felix knows when she’s lying but knows she will tell him the truth when she’s ready. He knows how to cheer her up when she’s been crying. He knows the ins and outs of her life, the things Hyunjin wishes he knew. The things he wishes he took the time to learn.

She’s curled up in Felix’s arms while he brushes his fingers through her hair, comforting in a way she knows Hyunjin never could. He whispers little nothings to her, reminding her that he’s by her side no matter what. “I think I’m in love with Hyunjin.” She eventually lets out as a tear slips from her eye. She can’t see his reaction with her head in his lap, staring towards the television that was playing a movie she honestly doesn’t remember the name of.

She can’t see the heartbroken look on Felix’s face as he tries to play off the hurt by chuckling. “It was bound to happen.” He blinks back his own tears as he focuses on comforting the love of his life. He always knew it would be Hyunjin over him, but he still held out hope.

“I don’t want to love him.” She moved so she was facing Felix instead, his hands still in her hair as their eyes met. He could see the heartbreak in her eyes, the same heartbreak he’s sure she could see in his own.

“Then love me instead.” Silence fell over them as the credits rolled in the movie neither of them were watching.

“I wish I could.” She whispered, reaching up and wiping the tears that couldn’t be held back anymore. She keeps her hand on his freckled cheek, rubbing his cheek with her thumb, hoping to comfort him the way he always did her.

“Pretend. Let me help you not love him anymore.” He would take her pretend love over no love at all any day. He would take her in any capacity she would allow. Maybe over time she would fall for him instead, he would just have to prove himself.

“I don’t want to break your heart, my sunshine.” Her sunshine. The man that could brighten any dark day with a simple smile. How she wishes it was Felix she fell for.

“I don’t care if you break my heart, angel. Break my heart if it means you fall out of love with Hyunjin. I would gladly have my heart broken by you a million times if it brought the light back to your eyes.” She sat up slowly, bringing her other hand to his other cheek, cupping his face gently before pressing her lips to his.

He melted into her kiss, a kiss that he’s fantasized about for years now. He wonders to himself if this will be the only time he feels her lips, so he savours every second. He wraps one arm around her waist, while placing the other hand on the back of her head, pulling her as close as he could. “Don’t hate me if I break your heart.” She whispered; her forehead rested against his.

“I couldn’t if I tried.” He admitted. He meant every word. No matter what’s going to happen, she owns his entire heart. He wouldn’t be able to hate her if he tried.

She spent the night at Felix’s, wrapped up in his loving embrace, and waking to his delicate kisses on her cheeks. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face, taking in just how nice it was to wake up beside someone. “Good morning, angel.”

Felix was delighted when he woke up with her still in his arms. He’s spent years wondering what it would be like to be with her like this. This morning was a dream come true; for once reality was better than his dreams. “Good morning, my sunshine.” She pecked his lips before sliding out of bed to get ready for classes.

Just like every morning, Felix bought her coffee and the two waited for Hyunjin at their regular table. Unlike every other morning, Felix had his arm draped across her shoulders, looking at her like she was the only person in the room. She wondered how she never noticed the love Felix held for her.

Hyunjin was shocked at the sight he saw when he walked into the café, and if he’s honest, a little jealous. “You two look extra cozy this morning.” He chuckled, taking a seat across from them, trying to keep a fake smile plastered on his face.

“We’re dating now.” Felix beamed, not knowing that those simple words, the words that made his world spin, broke Hyunjin’s heart. But there was nothing he could say, because he knew that Felix could treat her better than he ever could. Felix was ready to make her his entire world, but Hyunjin wasn’t.

“I guess if there was anyone good enough for her, it’d be you.” Hyunjin commented, putting on his best fake smile as he watched the way she looked up at Felix with the same stars in her eyes that he wished she looked at him with.

As the days and weeks passed, Hyunjin started distancing himself from his friends, finding comfort in a new woman every night. He was losing himself, his grades dropping as he slowly gave up. She noticed, trying to reach out and help him, but he shut her out. He yelled and screamed until she left his apartment with tears in her eyes.

She found comfort in Felix, just like she always did. But something felt different. The more time she spent with him, pretending to love him the way he loves her, she found herself pretending less and less. Every smile that was meant for her spread warmth through her body. His touch burned her skin in a way Hyunjin’s never did. Her smile came naturally every time she woke up in his arms, him pressing delicate kisses to her face, smiling his infectious smile, and looking at her with all the love in the world.

As the realization hit her, there was a knock on her door. Hyunjin was stood on the other side, his hair dishevelled as if he just rolled out of bed. He was nibbling on his bottom lip as he paced her apartment, trying to think of the right words. He needed to get everything off his chest before he could mend his friendships and fix himself. “I like you, Y/N. More than I thought I did.” He finally sat beside her, looking at her with a look of adoration she’s never seen from him before.

“Hyunjin…” He shook his head, effectively stopping whatever she was going to tell him.

“I’m not here to tell you to break up with Felix, because frankly, that man loves you more than I ever could. No matter which way you look at it, Felix will always be the better option, and I know you know that too. I’m here to fix our friendship that I threw away because of my jealousy.” He paused to run his fingers through his hair, thinking of what else he needed to say, wishing he wrote everything down as to not forget anything. “The three of us have been together since middle school, and I don’t want that to change. And honestly, I want to watch the light return to your eyes as you two fall more in love. I know being with me drained it, and god I am so sorry. I’m sorry I was so selfish, wanting to keep you for myself because you made me happy; I didn’t even realize you weren’t happy.”

“I was, Hyunjin. For a while I was happy with you. So happy I thought I was falling in love with you. But it was lust.” As the words left her lips, Hyunjin teared up. She took his face in her hands, wiping the tears away as they fell. “Just as you made me happy before, Felix makes me happy now.”

“You deserve all the happiness.” They both chuckled, tears falling from both their eyes now.

“So do you, Hyunjin. And you’ll find it.” He wrapped his arms around her, thankful that his best friend refused to leave him even when he deserved it. “It’ll be the three of us until the end of time, so you’re stuck with Felix and I whether you like it or not.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

When Hyunjin left that night, she couldn’t sleep. Flashes of Felix’s smile swirling in her mind every time she closed her eyes. Without thinking twice, she was out her door. In no time, she was standing outside Felix’s place, waiting for him to answer her knocks. As soon as the door opened, she threw her arms around him, pressing her lips to him, taking him by surprise, but he wasn’t complaining. The shock quickly wore off and he was wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. “What’s with the surprise visit?” He chuckled as they pulled away, closing the door as they entered his apartment fully.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” She admitted. “I’m in love with you, Lee Felix.” She beamed up at him, watching as he mirrored her wide smile.

“And I’m in love with you, L/N Y/N.” He pressed his lips to hers again, knowing there would be many more kisses to come. Knowing that he wasn’t going to get his heart broken.

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ttuesday · 3 years ago

Note

Hello there! Thank you for writing all these amazing headcanons! <333 I get so much joy when there's a new post from ya!

I had a prompt in mind: what are the gang members like when they get reaaaaly drunk? Who gets sad & sentimental, who gets all funny and jokey, who is all sleepy, and etc etc etc?

now this is an interesting one hehe

Arthur

When Arthur's drunk, he does his absolute best to try to convince everyone he isn't that drunk. He tries to walk in a straight line to prove he’s ok but accidentally walks into Uncle.

He somehow has great hearing and joins in on every sing song within a five mile radius. Arthur could be talking to you on the outskirts of camp but if he hears someone singing by the campfire, he joins in immediately.

He gets into a very jolly mood when he's drunk and talks about anything and everything. He rambles on about so much he interrupts himself a lot.

If he's sweet on you then Arthur asks to hold your hand and he won’t stop holding your hand for the e n t i r e night. No matter where you go or what you do, Arthur will potter after you with his hand still holding yours. And whenever you look at him, Arthur has a big, proud smile on his face as he looks at your hand in his.

Charles

Who is this man? Where tf did Charles go? He acts very differently than sober Charles. Whatever idea springs to mind, he wants to do it. If he wants to do interpretive dance in the middle of camp then that's exactly what he does or if he decides to go skinny dipping at 4am then off he goes, trying to find a lake or a river.

One second Charles could be laughing so much he's nearly crying, a second later he could start sobbing because he remembered that time he accidentally shot a lawman's horse when he was trying to aim for the guy. Please hug him.

It doesn't matter how drunk Charles is, he can still yeet anyone over Mount Hagen and he can go from fun and goofy to deathly intimidating in under 1.5 seconds.

And if you and Charles are dating then he just wants to kiss you. He kisses your temple all the way down to your jawline before kissing back up to your ear.

Dutch

Dutch gets quiet when he's drunk. He just kinda sits there and stares off in a daze for ten minutes. When someone talks to him, it's like he buffers for a few seconds before responding.

But when he starts talking, good luck trying to get Dutch to shut up. And this man needs everyone to stop what they're doing and give him all of their attention when he decides to say a speech. And if one person stops paying attention then Dutch storms off.

Dutch really does believe he's unstoppable when he's drunk. And if you don't believe him then don't worry, Dutch has no problem spending three hours explaining how all of his plans are apparently bulletproof.

If Dutch is sweet on you then he tries to flirt with you. But the more he drinks, the harder it gets for him to string a sentence together. "Your eyes..." he slurs his words but tries to stay composed "they remind me... of uh... eyes".

Micah

Micah is so goddamn laid back when he's drunk. Strangely people tend to get on with Micah when he's drunk but by the time he's sober again he's gone back to being... well, Micah.

He's nice ? Which is so bizarre but he actually makes an effort to talk to people without antagonising them and instead of taking offence to comments, he laughs them off and sees it as a joke.

As long as the conversation stays light, Micah keeps his happy demeanour and he isn't even a bad loser when it comes to poker and five finger fillet. In a way, seeing Micah so friendly unnerves some of the other gang members because of how baffling it is.

If he's sweet on you then Micah will continuously asks if you'd like to sit on his lap. Of course he flirts with you but he's a lot sweeter than normal and tells you that you could definitely do better than him so he understands if you reject him.

John

John comes out of his shell when he's drunk. Instead of keeping his mouth shut, he says whatever he thinks of. Yeah he gets into more fights cause he doesn't know when to stop talking.

He can fall asleep anywhere and at any time. You could be chatting with him by the campfire and slowly feel him lean against your shoulder as he starts to softly snore. He once fell asleep while standing up right with one of his hands on a barrel for support.

When John tries to go to sleep when he's drunk, he's like a kid trying to go to sleep at a sleepover. John loudly says the most random words and makes random noises before he bursts out laughing, thinking it's the funniest thing in the world.

If John has a crush on you and he's drunk, he tries to be so helpful. He constantly asks you if you need anything. If you ask him to get you something then he walks a few feet away before completely forgetting what you asked for.

Bill

Let's be real, Bill's already a hothead when he's sober and he's exactly the same when he's drunk. He's very fast to start a fight but if someone lands one punch then that's Bill done for the night. Usually he's a better fighter but he has terrible balance when he's been drinking.

He tries to be productive when he's drunk, thinking that now's the perfect time to do some chores and to go on guard duty. Everyone knows better than to leave Bill go out on watch when he's like this. One time he tried to shoot a squirrel cause he thought it was going to run into camp.

Bill rambles a lot too, mainly telling stories from when he was in the army or reminiscing about different robberies he's done with the gang.

Bill can get really anxious so if y'all are in a relationship, he needs your comfort. His mind starts racing and he worries about little things so for you to be there and tell him everything is alright truly means a lot to him.

Javier

Javier gets very goofy when he's drunk. He's keeps things light hearted, joking about things but is still able to hold his tongue when needed and have proper conversations too.

Honestly, Javier is probably one of the most level headed people in comparison to the rest of the gang but because he tends to stumble and get his words mixed up, people presume he's completely wasted when he's had a few to drink.

This man LIVES for those 2am deep and meaningful conversations. He absolutely adores having them and being drunk helps him open up more about his feelings so he has no problem expressing his emotions.

Are you ready to be swept off of your feet, both metaphorically and maybe literally depending on if you'll leave Javier do that? He's such a hopeless romantic when he's drunk. If camp is near a field or woodland then he sneaks off, picks some flowers and shyly gives them to you.

Sean

Sean manages to go through every mood when he's drunk. Everything is funny to him and he tries to make jokes about whatever comes to mind. Usually he jokes about Bill and Micah which leads to one of them arguing with Sean.

That's when Sean gets angry and thinks he's able to knock out anyone with one punch. Normally he ends up accidentally walking into a table or tripping over himself cause of how focused he is at punching the air.

Then Sean gets all sad and sentimental, feeling sorry for himself cause he accidentally bruised his leg. He has no problem sitting on the ground and pouting for a while, hoping that someone will walk past and give him some attention for a while.

If y'all are dating then Sean will tell you over and over again how much you mean to him and how much he loves you. He just wants to cling on to you for the night and make sure you know how loved you are.

Hosea

I hope you're sitting comfortably cause Hosea's gonna tell you every single goddamn story he can think of. Hosea tells you funny stories, sad stories, how he first met John and how he conned rich people. He really likes to reminisce when he's drunk.

Towards the end of the night, Hosea eventually gets quiet and if there's a party at camp where everyone is celebrating, then he goes off by the outskirts for a while.

Hosea likes to sit back and watch as everyone enjoys the night. He can get very sentimental when he does this but he likes to enjoy the little moments of the night and savour it all.

If he’s sweet on you then Hosea makes sure you know how special you are and that you deserve the best. He doesn't necessarily flirt with you but instead wants you to know how great you are.

Sadie

When Sadie drinks, she gets sad. She doesn't mean to get sad but her mind wanders and she thinks a lot about everything that's happened in her life and how she's ended up where she is today.

She doesn't speak a lot and ends up getting stuck in her head with thoughts whirling around and around. It can get overwhelming which is why she isn't that keen on getting completely wasted on alcohol.

She doesn't like how crowded camp can get so instead she likes to go off and find a nice scenic area to rest. Normally that helps calm her mind but Sadie also gets sleepy by then too.

If Sadie likes you and feels comfortable around you then she leans against you as ye both sit there in a peaceful silence. And if you suggest it, then she'll hesitantly rest her head on your lap and fall asleep as you play with her hair.

Kieran

Kieran doesn't get drunk often. He hates waking up the next morning and wondering if he pissed anyone off or said something he shouldn't have.

He's very happy when he's drunk, only seeing the positives in things and always smiling. Kieran is still a little shy but he's more open to being involved with what the gang's doing, whether that be singing along to some songs or dancing with whoever to Dutch's gramophone.

Because of how involved he can become with the gang when he's drunk, he can get involved in a few fights or arguments. But contrary to popular belief, Kieran doesn't back down and makes sure to get his points across.

Kieran gets more confident after a few drinks and flirts with you more than usual. The more accepting you are to his comments, the more he flirts with you. Though if you flirt back then he gets very flustered.

#ayo idk why these are so fuckin long #I tried cutting them down #but they’re still long #so apologies for how goddamn long these are #anywhoosies #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #micah bell #charles smith #john marston #javier escuella #bill williamson #sean macguire #hosea matthews #sadie adler #kieran duffy #idk why I decided to add Kieran in here too lol

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violettelueur · 4 years ago

Text

RYŌMEN SUKUNA || HIS LITTLE SONGBIRD

| featuring : ryōmen sukuna ft. itadori yuji and fushiguro megumi from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors and light mention of alcohol

| form : imagine (with she/her pronouns)

| word count : 2411

| published : 02 december

| request : I just finished reading Sukuna with so who good at singing and I love it❤️ After reading this, it makes me think of another possibility for reincarnation au. What if the so got reincarnated but instead of Sukuna actually met them in person, he found out that the so is now a famous singer, so their songs can be heard all over japan. Itadori went a store and their song was played which Sukuna realized it was his little song bird’s voice

| barista’s notes : hi hi guys~ sorry for the really late update today and that is because i fell asleep the second i got back home from school ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ classic barista violettelueur and what makes it lowkey worst is that it’s 2:20 am right now.....for a little information that might be helpful while reading this, i was listen to BLACKPINK - Don’t know what to do (JP Ver.) while writing this, so that is going to get a little mention on this imagine ʕ·ᴥ·　ʔ other than that, i hope you enjoy you cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) have a wonderday day and please come back soon!

The sounds of the strings being plucked to construct a beautiful melody filled the spring air with its euphoric sound as the pale pink cherry blossom petals graceful fell from its branches giving a beautiful sight to behold, while the crowds of men in the garden celebrated with red sake plates in hand that was filled to the brim with the sweet alcohol that was being consumed in a rapid rate.

However, as much as the King of Curses wanted to disrupt the little gather for his own sadistic pleasure, the melody that was playing in the air captivated him to pause his wicked thoughts and desires and demanded him to appreciate the music the was being created by the lone female that was at the centre of the ocean of men - who were laughing drunkenly while some observed her from afar.

The lone female on her knees, while her eyes were set on the musical tool that was set in front of her, was delicately but masterfully plucking the thin transparent stings to create a tune that no other person within the gardens could recreate - not even the other talented musicians that were also present within the large garden. Eyeing the beauty that was charming almost everyone within her presence, the King of Curses slyly came closer (but out of sight) to gain a closer look at what was going on.

“Who is she?”

“She’s the only daughter from the prominent L/N family, they’re are known for their musical talents and from the rumours, that is certainly no lie,”

“Is she married? I can imagine having her playing for me every day with that beautiful melody,”

However, before one of the males of court nobility could even answer the question, an elegant but powerful voice echoed throughout the garden causing everyone to swiftly turn to the direction of the angelic voice, only to suddenly find that it was that lone female in the middle of the garden singing with the alluring tone that she had created herself - leaving everyone in a trance to the grace that was beautifully presented to them.

“I need to make her my wife,”

“I’m afraid that is easier said than done, my lord. From what has been going around, she has refused all of the men that have proposed their hand in marriage, there isn’t a reason that is known for this that can answer everyone’s confusion,”

“What do I need to give her? Money! Power! I have plenty of that,”

“She has rejected all of the noblemen that have come her way, no riches could ever convince her and I’m surprised that her family also agree to her antics”

Listening from a distance, Sukuna couldn’t help but become intrigued by what was being said. Many women in this time would have jumped on the chance to marry someone from a higher status let alone be married off quickly, yet here you were singing and playing like you have all the time in the world with no worries or fears that could distract you. You were at peace, while he was the destruction.

Somewhat still in a trace, it was suddenly cut off once the final string was pulled causing there to be absolute silence to fill the space leaving only the wind to cover the lack of sound before a loud parade of claps were heard as the emperor - who hosted the party - stood up with pride written all over his face. Standing up from your position, you have a light smile before bowing to show your gratitude to being allowed to play in such a prestigious event as you then made your way to the other musicians to pass them on for the next performance.

“Y/N! That was amazing, you never disappoint,”

“I have no idea what you saying, I messed up on the second to last note when I hit the wrong string, ha what am I doing to do? That is going to extremely bother me for the time being,”

“Stop being such a perfectionist! None of the sorcerers, noblemen and emperor knows that, so you’re fine,”

“Thank you and shouldn’t you really go, is it not your turn?”

“Oh! My apologies, I’ll meet up with you later,”

With your friend running off to continue with musical performance, you stood in your spot as you watched her go further into the distance leaving you to soak in the sunray that was gently providing a warm glow to your complexion as the deep purple of your kimono also brightened up leaving it somewhat of a lavender shade. Taking a deep sigh, you looking up to admire the cherry blossoms that were in bloom, only to see a figure settled on one of the branches with his ruby eyes set upon you, even though the man was hidden very skilfully within the plethora of petals you could sense him from a while away, but before you could even voice out your confusion.

“Ah, there she is! Miss L/N,”

Displaying a face of irritation on the rude disturbance - leaving Sukuna to display a face of amusement instead - you turned around to find two men standing in front of you with one that seemed to be of younger age compared to his counterpart making you come to the realisation that it was a son and father - leaving you to mentally groan in annoyance as you instantly knew where this little conversation was going.

“I want you to met my son, he is -”

“I’m sorry, but I am not interested in his hand in marriage nor his companionship” you immediately interrupted the noblemen, causing both of the men to look at you in complete shock as they didn’t expect you to figure out their intentions so soon after only a few words exchanged.

“But my dear, this is an amazing opportunity for you to-”

“Become someone with a higher nobility? Don’t make me laugh, I rather become a peasant then spend the eternity of my life bound to you,”

“What is it that you desire for your hand? Wealth? Power? Prestige? You name what you desire and we will provide!”

“I’m afraid that what I desire is impossible for you to provide me, my apologies”

“What is it that you want, woman?! Who doesn’t want what I can give you within an instinct?” the son soon erupted in anger at this rejection, still in utter confusion on why you were so adamant on not wanting to wed him.

“Entertainment? Can you provide that? You see, you noblemen always offer what you have already stated to me and that may sound very enticing to another but, you all are so boring,”

The two noblemen looked at you with astoundment in their eyes as well as Sukuna, who was cunningly listening from above on where you found him - the King of Curses didn’t want to confess this to himself but he was confused on what you trying to demonstrate here with you little speech.

“You are so so boring, you men expect me to play and sing for you every single day like a bird in a cage, yet I get no entertainment in return from you? Isn’t that quite unfair? You have no talent yet you want to be greedy, what ridiculous idea is that? It’s almost laughable in my opinion,”

Sukuna almost burst out laughing from what you artfully expressed to the two men that were in front of you as he also could relate to what you were saying. The sorcerers that he had fought and killed with his bare hands were all boring with no hint of excitement from any of the battles he had faced and here you were expressing the same distaste - they were boring. All of them.

‘Well, well little songbird, I got your attention, now you have mine,’

ꕥ

“Sukuna?” you called out in a hushed surprised tone, as you unexpectedly found him sitting comfortably on the wooden corridor outside your room. Even since that little encounter back at the garden party, you have been seeing the special grade curse looming about here and there within your personal space, causing you to one day to finally acknowledge his presence that was constantly around you, only leading up where you both were now.

The excitement of these secret meetings that you both had late at night was the entertainment that you were looking for. The excitement of being so secretive with the man you desired to love but couldn’t to the outer world was the entertainment that no nobleman would ever provide you. It was the fact that this romantic link between you and Sukuna was forbidden that excited the both of you. This was the entertainment that you both desire.

“Hello, my little songbird,” Sukuna greeted you with a smirk before gently grabbing your hand to pull you down to his height - well more rather below his height - to meet eye to eye with you. “Didn’t you miss me?” he then teasingly asked, causing you to look away in a bashful expression because you knew that he knew what your answer was going to be. However, pushing your pride aside, you slowly wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into an embrace which then led him to place a hand on the back of your neck, holding you in place as he savoured the warmth that you were providing him.

“Where have you been? I was worried,” you stated to him, and even though it was a laughable comment to him since what was the point in worrying about him, he couldn’t help but appreciate the foreign concern that you had for him - it truly warmed his heart that you were here with him. “I was busy, now why don’t you sing for me, my little songbird, I do miss the sound of your sweet voice,” he declared to you before placing a few light open mouth kisses on your neck leading you to let out a soft moan of pleasure which seemed to put a smile on the curse’s face.

“What would you like for me to sing to you then?” You asked as you used your hand to gently run your hand through his hair which caused Sukuna to become relaxed and lower his guard within your embrace - the only time he allowed himself to do so and the only person that was allowed to see him in this state.

“Anything. Anything that you sing for me is enough”

To be held in your arms was what Sukuna always wanted and desired every day of his life, to hear your voice was something that made him forget about the world just like back at the garden party and the elegance that you embodied while playing the Koto was something he could never get out of his mind. You were his safe haven. His little songbird. However, that was 1000 years ago.

ꕥ

Residing within his vessel, Sukuna began to wonder what could have caused him to start to reminisce about the past when clearly he couldn’t do anything to bring you back with him. You were gone. You have passed. There was nothing he could do even as a powerful curse himself to bring your back onto his arms and let you sing to him.

However, what could make do for now was the song that was annoyingly playing within the music store that his vessel - Itadori Yuji - decided to visit as it seemed like he was interested in what was new with his friend Fushiguro Megumi. Slowly, the King of Curses could hear the music beginning to fade, indicating that it was the end of it before another quickly began to play to replace the ending song.

Unlike the other song, this one was softer in tune with something being strummed in the background - just like how you would strum the strings of the Koto when he would ask you to play it for him to admire - to which was then sung on top with a female voice. Disinterested, Sukuna began to dissociate himself with the song that was now playing until another voice came in with the song, suddenly leaving him in a trance like the one he was back 1000 years ago at that garden party.

Sitting up from his position, he intensively listened closer making sure that his ears didn’t deceive him from what he thought he heard.

“Oi brat! Who is singing that song?”

“Ha? What do you want now?” his vessel replied, surprised and annoyed at the sudden appearance of the curse that was inside him.

“What does Sukuna want now?” Fushiguro asked, slightly worried about what was happening and what could happen at this moment and time since they were in a public place filled with people.

“Answer the question before I rip your heart out again,” Sukuna threatened, slowing becoming impatient and desperate for an answer leaving Itadori no choice but for once cooperate with the special grade curse.

“From what I believe, it’s a group song called ‘Don’t know what to do’, I believe there are five girls within that group,” Itadori explained before he quickly stopped within his track to see a screen playing a stage performance of the exact same song being played in the store. “Yeah! There is the group, they are really well known in Japan since they’re are touring there, I think the youngest is the same age as me and Fushiguro” to which he pointed at a girl that he was explaining about.

Looking at the scene through Itadori’s eyes, Sukuna began to observe each and every single girl that was dancing on the stage before he paused his view on a certain girl that Itadori pointed, who was dressed in a white off the shoulder crop top that was long-sleeved with a white skirt paired with white trainers that matched with the rest of the girls within the group.

“Little songbird?” he quietly muttered, not believing what was presented in front of him at this current moment in time.

There was no doubt about it, that was you on the screen singing and dancing to a song that he slowly began to love once he heard your voice. You truly looked angelic as you gracefully danced across the stage somehow managing to maintain a stable singing voice that never disappointed him. You were back.

His little songbird.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagine #ryomen sukuna imagines #itadori yuji #itadori yujii #jjk itadori #fushiguro megumi #jjk fushiguro

1K notes · View notes

ghoultramp · 4 years ago

Text

study buddies [sukuna x reader] {req}

▷ jjk

↳ pairing: sukuna x f!reader

↳ content: { request fic } - dom!sukuna, subby!reader, curvy&soft!reader, college!au, dubcon, choking, spitting, marking (biting, scratching), dacryphilia, degradation (?), breath play (?), a sprinkle of praise (as a treat), nicknames for reader (princess, babygirl)

↳ words: 4.7k

⇢ summary: sukuna’s a little fed up of yuji having you all the fun with you, so when yuji suggests you should take a break from studying, sukuna decides it’s the perfect opportunity to have a taste of yuji’s little princess.

also available on ao3

⇢ note: request for nemi; i’m so sorry it took so long to get around to this but i hope this makes up for the wait! a huge thank you for being my partner in crime on this and for some of the fantastic ideas you shared.

Yuji had been grumbling at his textbook for the better part of ten minutes before you peered over the top of yours. While he lay chest down on the floor, your legs were lazily propped over the small of his back. Your own back was supported by a pillow against your bed frame, comfortable enough, but you were starting to ache. Yuji wittered beneath his breath, he looked sweet when he tried to concentrate; his eyebrows furrowed and his nose wrinkled, but it was the way his tongue poked over his top lip that made you giggle.

“Stop,” he groaned, “this is hard.”

You cleared your throat as you closed your book, placing it on your lap.

“Which question is it now?” you asked, lifting your legs off him.

He grumbled incoherently, flipping the same page back and forth. You shook your head and shuffled next to him, straightening out your skirt as you brought your knees together to retain some modicum of decency. You leaned your weight against your left hand and softly patted Yuji’s head with the other.

“Uhm,” he mumbled, “still on the first one…?”

“Yuji-Kun,” you sighed, “have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

He looked at you through his peripheral vision while his mouth fought against a nervous smirk. You playfully tapped him against the side of the head. Yuji feigned injury, holding his head and rolling onto his back; you were trying so hard not to laugh as he rolled about, wailing dramatically.

“You’re such a baby,” you told him, throwing the textbook to the side.

You watched as he stopped and spread his limbs out like a starfish, he turned his head in your direction.

“Says the little Princess,” he retorted, he flashed a grin when your cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink.

He loved rendering your speechless with the utterance of a single word. To everyone on the outside, you and Yuji were this cute, Hallmark-movie, high-school sweetheart-type couple, barely even kissed, blushing at the sweet whispers you exchanged; how wrong they were.

Those sweet whispers that made you blush wildly were due to Yuji sharing with you his demands for you that evening—because you would always be his good Babygirl, his good little Princess. They would never see him grope you beneath the lecture hall desks, purposefully dragging you to the back. He’d ignore you as you cried into the sleeve of your sweater while his fingers fiddled with your sensitive little bud behind your underwear.

He rolled onto his side to prop his head up with his hand, you brought your hands up to cover your flushed cheeks.

“Hey,” he was trying not to laugh, finding your bashfulness absurdly loveable, “why don’t we take a break?”

A squeak escaped through the fingers of the hand that covered your mouth. Yuji awkwardly shifted onto his hands and knees, crawling toward you. When he sat up next to you, he swung his legs around to place them on either side of you; trapping you between him and the bed frame.

“Now who’s the baby?” he cooed, teasing you more by poking your hands playfully.

He laughed at your attempt to look annoyed, it was wasted. You resigned, watching as he began to lean into you, his hand pressed against the back of your head and his lips brushed against your ear.

“Or should I say,” his whisper was a low growl, “Babygirl?”

“Yuuuuuji,” you were whining as you squirmed between his legs, “you’re doing this on purpose.”

The warm breath expelled by his chuckle brushed against your neck. You felt the grip he held on the back of your head fall to your wrists, you didn’t fight him as he pulled your hands from your face. You knew he got off on how bashful you always were, and maybe you played into that a little, he felt the hot flush of your cheeks radiate against him.

He could devour you so easily.

You felt a thumb press hard against your chin, pushing your head right back. A pitiful laboured noise escaped your mouth, now pushing his palm against your throat. It wasn’t quite enough pressure to stop you from breathing, but enough to cause you discomfort. Enough to satisfy him. For the moment, at least.

“…ji,” you were fortunate enough to be able to squeeze the last syllable of his name.

Using his free hand, he kneaded at the delicious pudge of skin that poked out above your slightly-too-tight thigh-high socks. They were just a part of one of your many little uniforms reserved only for Yuji, and today was one of his favourites; a just-tight-enough shirt opened enough for your delicate, frilly lingerie—of his choosing, of course—to peek out, paired with a simple, pleated skirt.

You were ever so grateful when he lightened the pressure on your larynx, allowing you to urgently drag in a deep breath. But it was mere seconds before you were gasping and panting, succumbing to his will as his fingers pressed gently against the damp cotton of your panties.

“Finally,” you heard him say, the lowered tone of his voice triggered your flight response.

“Yu-Yuji?” you whimpered.

“Yuji’s not home right now, Princess,” he declared, “it’s not fair that he gets to have all the fun anyway.”

“Su-Sukuna, please,” you whined, tilting your pelvis back in an attempt to escape his roaming fingers, he only pressed against you harder.

“Why don’t you let me take you for a ride, babygirl,” as he said it, he dragged his finger downward, following your sweet, little slit beneath your underwear.

“You p-promised you wouldn’t,” if it wasn’t for the fact that Sukuna was so close to you, he never would have heard your feeble pleas.

“We all promise things we don’t really mean,” he groaned, removing his hand on your throat.

Sukuna smirked all the while you gasped for air—once again—and then whimpered, the focus in your sight made everything soft, your head felt full of cotton wool. Sukuna sniggered, the dumb, heavy-lidded look on your pretty, little face was nothing less than perfection. He pressed his fingers a slightly bit harder against your clit, inhaling sharply when he pulled strangled little mewls from behind your slightly parted lips.

Sukuna was more than a little fond of Yuji’s choice of mate, he’d been waiting far too long for this opportunity and he wasn’t going to squander it.

He was going to savour every moment.

“Let’s see,” Sukuna contemplated, relieving your clit of his fingers. He’d want you to beg for it, prove just how much of a needy little whore you really were; he’d have you screaming his name soon enough.

You whined at him as his hands crept along the outsides of your thighs, under your skirt, grabbing hold of your shapely hips. He ignored your cries while he pulled you toward him, your skirt now ruched above your waist.

“C’mere,” he grunted, jostling you with some force when you didn’t move quick enough for him.

From your position—your head now propped where your back had been, Sukuna suspending your arse with his large hands—you could almost pretend that it was still Yuji. It was still his body after all, right? Your eyes passed over the dark lines that only Sukuna had—you always thought they looked like tattoos—and the closed, second set of eyes. Those eyes unnerved you, scared you. You dropped your gaze.

You didn’t ever think you’d have to face this situation, Yuji had reassured you time and time again that he had control of Sukuna, that he wouldn’t be able to take over when things got hot and heavy between the both of you. Now, you supposed Sukuna had lied about being compliant the entire time.

Sukuna continued, “I demand a taste of this—“ he yanked your underwear down your thighs, pulling a little too hard on the waistband, “—sweet fucking cunny.”

Dumbfounded, you were only able to watch him with curious, wide eyes as he moved your legs to benefit him while he struggled to remove your underwear. He was clearly getting impatient, throwing your soaked underwear over his head and across the other side of the room.

Sukuna let out a long, deep moan, as he shuffled himself back. He brought your legs down, pressing his muscular upper-arms against the back of your thighs; this was his way of stabilising you while having both of his hands free.

With his biceps pushing into your thighs, you yelped as your neck was forced into an uncomfortable position. The top of your head pressed against the base of the bed while your ear squashed into your shoulder; you scrambled to hoist yourself up, pushing your palms against the floor.

“Ah-ah,” he growled, yanking you down by the hips.

Sukuna mumbled something, you may not have been able to hear it, but your widely spread cunt certainly felt him say something. He brought the index finger of his right hand up to hover just out of reach of your presenting hole; raising his gaze to catch you looking at him--your chest heaving with your gulping breaths, your eyes almost entirely closed, with your tongue gently lolled out over your bottom lip--he certainly hadn’t expected you to submit to him like this so easily.

“I can see why Yuji likes you,” Sukuna mused, you gasped loudly when his thick finger penetrated you for the first time, “a needy little bitch in heat, like you?”

He let out a satisfied groan as you convulsed against him, nowhere for you to go as he twisted his finger, left to right and back again, fucking you with little care as his thrusts became almost violent. You cried out when he began to hit his palm quite forcefully against your clit with each thrust of his finger; Sukuna’s dark eyes glared up at you, his thick brows pulling together in the middle of his brow while he snarled at you.

You really were trapped.

“I happen to know you like it rough,” he was smirking, the loud, wet sound that came from between your legs as he removed his finger with a yank make you shrink beneath him.

“But, let’s get one thing straight,” he continued, moaning while he sucked at your sweet juices that soaked his finger, “your little Yuji-Kun won’t ever compare to a demon,” Sukuna watched the panic set in your eyes, felt your thighs shaking against his arms as he angled you up.

“It’ll be so delightful and easy, making you teeter on that edge,” he snarled, “between pain and pleasure until I see fit.”

You yelped uncomfortably when the pad of his heavy thumb pressed into your clit; you heard him chuckle above your cries, pressing against it harder. Sukuna pursed his lips against your inner thigh. You felt his smirk against your skin when his thumb quickly shifted from your clit to your hole; it was without warning, your slick allowing him to pull in and out with ease. But the intrusion made you shudder, followed closely by an uncontainable wail.

“Oh, Princess,” he cooed, talking into your thigh, “you’re going to make over-stimming you so much fucking fun.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” it was a pitiful attempt at finding your voice.

Sukuna either couldn’t hear you or at the very least, he didn’t want to hear you. He dragged his tongue along your delicate skin, playfully nipping at you every few inches.

Oh, how it amused him when you squirmed, afraid of his real bite, perhaps? The thought excited him.

You continued to whimper while Sukuna roamed your thighs, but when he flicked the tip of his tongue across your clit—fucking you with his thumb, his fingernails digging into the flesh of your arsecheeks—you brought your hand to your face, biting down on the flesh of your wrist.

Sukuna ignored you, giving attention to your throbbing clit, using his free hand to spread your lips just a bit more, enough for him to sink his lips down and around you. He loved when you made those whiny, little bleats—so pathetic, so fucking easy.

But, no, this wasn’t enough for Sukuna. He jerked his thumb out—your walls quivered around the empty space—and replaced it with his tongue; he groaned loudly as he sloppily lapped at your dripping, wet cunt.

Crying into your hand, still biting down on your already raw flesh, you felt the pull of your hips, ready to spasm with the release that was building up within your core. Sukuna masterfully worked his way around your insides, tensing the tip of his tongue to satisfy that sweet spot within you.

“Cum for me, Princess,” his deep voice was cast even lower as he growled as he spoke those words, commanding you; you felt a pressure within your pelvis vibrate and coil.

A pretty, choked sob found its way behind your lips as you relaxed your head to the side. The arm you had been using to silence yourself came down on Sukuna’s head so hard he scratched at your outer thigh; that would surely leave a mark. Whether you were willing to admit it or not, the thought excited you, you wanted him to hurt you.

Sukuna seemed frustrated when you didn’t obey his demand.

“I said fucking cum for me, Princess,” he snarled, firmly placing his hands on either side of your arse. You gasped, feeling the sting of him driving the points of his nails into your flesh. “I won’t hesitate to hurt you, y’know,” he continued in between tending to your soft, little cunt, “but I get the feeling you’d—“ he huffed, driving his nails into you, eliciting a strangled, wailing moan from your lips, “—like it.”

A whimpering, twitching mess was all you were beneath Sukuna’s grip. You heard the sloppy, wet noises combining with his hungry moans, tasting as much of you as he possibly could. Leaning back onto his knees, Sukuna noticed the bright flush in your cheeks.

“Sweet, little thing,” he laughed, “look, she’s embarrassed.”

Sukuna delighted in having you as his play-thing, but he wasn’t quite done with you yet. While he stared at you with his impossibly dark eyes, you heard the distinct jostling of a belt being undone; you heard it land with a thud when he discarded it to the side, triggering your body to shudder once more.

He wasn’t impressed with you when you lowered your gaze away.

“No, no, no,” he chuckled, “you will return the favour, Babygirl.”

Your heart beat wildly against your chest, your breathing was nothing but desperate, clamouring gasps as he hoisted you by your hair. Your protesting cries meant nothing to him as he effortlessly pulled you to your knees and the sight of your eyes brimming with tears amused him all the more.

“You’d do it for him, wouldn’t you?” he gave an inflection to his voice, trying to mimic Yuji’s, “It’s still his body, right?”

Sukuna’s grip on your hair tightened while he fiddled with the zip of his trousers, you felt helpless, watching as he relieved his thick, hard cock from its clothed prison. It was Yuji’s body, but like this—when Sukuna felt the need to barge his way in—it was his, not Yuji’s.

“Isn’t it?” he spat, pushing you down toward his crotch, cock in hand.

You may have been too shocked to form words, disjoined syllables tumbling from your lips, but not shocked enough to resist him. You didn’t recoil when your lips pressed against the swollen, wet head of his cock, as he brushed his pre-cum across your lips. In fact, you were eager, Sukuna laughed when you parted your lips, ready to receive him.

“See, it’s not that bad, is it?” he mused as he tugged your head back to look up at him.

You heard him stifle a low growl, looking up at him with your pretty, glassy eyes and your puffy, pink lips.

Whining at him as you placed your hands on either side of his muscular thighs, you were a desperate little pet eager for master’s attention. You didn’t care that he held your weight by your hair, it didn’t matter that it hurt. You didn’t care how aggressive he was; it didn’t matter when it felt this good.

“That’s it,” his smile was devilish, allowing you to lower your head into his lap on your own terms.

When you moved Sukuna’s hand away from his cock, he let out a chortle that made your heart flutter. He was gentle while you teased the aching head of his cock. You were ever so pleased with yourself when you pulled guttural, feral moans from his lips; it was your turn to tease Sukuna. For however long he might allow it, that was.

Which wasn’t long at all, it would seem.

Sukuna was impatient and you were taking far too long, he wanted his dick rammed as far down your throat as he could, and he would. He wasn’t being gentle now, not when he pushed your head down onto him. When you let out a surprised yelp, he took the opportunity to take advantage.

“Fuck,” he hissed while you gagged on the intrusion of his length.

Your throat felt raw, there was no niceness about him now as he held you down. You were sure he would be smirking as you convulsed within his grip, feebly attempting to push against his tensed thighs with very little effect. Yuji might be rough with you, but Sukuna was on a different level, and you quickly understood just how utterly useless any and all attempts to save yourself would be.

It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt, and you knew—for certain—that someone was going to be you.

You closed your eyes and held onto his thighs so tight your knuckles turned white; it was the only thing you could do to distract yourself at that moment. The tears he’d forced from your eyes dripped onto your chest with your clumsy movements. You let out a wail of relief when he pulled you away, even just for a moment, it was welcomed.

"There's a good girl," he grunted, admiring the spit that dribbled down your chin, "there's my good little Princess."

Your moan at his words was cut off by a cruel shove of his hand; you gagged under the duress of him ramming into the back of your throat. He didn't care that you choked and spluttered beneath him, in fact, you knew it excited him; the way his cock twitched with each uncomfortable noise you made told you everything.

Every bone in your body screamed at you to submit to him, you would hope it would be less humiliating than this. Sukuna was surprised when you fell limp within his grasp and jerked you back once more.

“I wasn’t sure I’d break you so easily,” he chuckled, raising his free hand to your tear-stricken face.

You shuddered when his thumb stroked away at your wet cheek. You kept your eyes closed as his hand snaked its way across your face and down to your mouth. He tightened his grip on your hair as he held down hard with his other hand.

Your eyes darted open, Sukuna was a God looking down upon a mere mortal.

He hissed, you felt a heavy pressure against your lips as he used his hand to push you back against the pillow still propped against the bed. He was quick, untangling his hand from your hair to rest it on your inner thigh. He was laughing as his fingers tightened around your thigh, claws pinching at your flesh.

“Open wide, Babygirl,” baring his teeth at you, he looked maniacal, his hulking shape looming over you.

You sobbed helplessly as the mouth on his palm opened up, summoning a tongue that successfully infiltrated your mouth with very little effort. He laughed as your pretty, flushed face twisted, breathing frantically through your nose.

You were unable to make out the words he growled while he dragged his claws along the tender flesh of your inner thigh. The games he’d played with your throat, and consequently your oxygen, had dulled your senses—all except the ones that mattered, of course.

The bottom of his palm hit hard against your abused clit and your eyes widened with realisation. Sukuna smirked, both hands pressing so impossibly hard against both sets of your lips as he leaned into you.

“Just a little more,” he growled, “and then you’ll be ready for me.”

There was no time to think before the hand at your mouth pushed your head back, the finger and thumb on either side of your nostrils were dangerously close to completely restricting your airflow. Another tongue infiltrated your aching hole, he laughed at you as you convulsed beneath him. He allowed you to shake your head from side to side but nothing more, he found your efforts at yet another struggle tempting.

Your hips bucked defiantly beneath his hand as he bore against you. You whimpered against the tongue at your mouth as the one inside your twitching hole tickled against your most sensitive spot. Sukuna brought his face down impossibly close to yours, now gently grinding his palm against your clit; the only thing you felt were tight shocks that battered away within your core.

Sukuna gripped your face with his fingers, careless as his claws almost scratched at your face. When your head was brought up to meet him, your noses touched. It was unnerving.

You felt Sukuna’s tongues retreat. You were conflicted when you felt the gnawing ache of emptiness that was left behind. Formulating thoughts seemed impossible, coherency was nowhere to be found. With heavy-lidded eyes, you lazily watched as Sukuna knelt back.

It was cute, the way you opened your legs even wider for him. It wasn’t enough for Sukuna, nothing ever seemed enough for Sukuna. You felt his clawed hands grip the underside of your tender thighs; your breath shuddered, feeling the wet head of his cock bump against your widened hole.

“Good girl,” he breathed, “open wide.”

There was no other warning than his words as he shunted his hips forward, you moaned low in your throat—a strangled, feral noise—as your dripping wet cunt enveloped his throbbing length with very little ease.

“See,” he grunted, tightening his grip on your thighs, “I can be kind—“ he pulled his entire length, your hole quivered at the empty space, “—when I want to be.”

You wailed as he bottomed out against you, digging his claws into your flesh hard enough to draw blood as he frantically thrust. He’d been patient long enough but, while you’d been a good girl and indulged him, playtime was over.

Your head whirled and your limbs were numb. The only nerves that you felt any connection to were the ones in your pussy, the ones that made it possible to feel every protruding vein of his achingly hard cock The nerves that made it possible to feel every twitch it made as Sukuna put all his weight into you. He grunted, pushing back on your thighs, you yelped when he folded them against your stomach.

Sukuna delighted in hearing the moan you gave him after yet another deep, unrelenting thrust, his pelvis grinding roughly against your clit. You found yourself unraveling beneath him, you no longer felt within your own body.

“Yuji,” you mewled.

It was an easy mistake to make, a mistake that Sukuna did not appreciate. He laughed down at you as he picked up his pace. An unrelenting pace that shunted your body with each and every thrust. A pace that made you see stars.

“Silly little bitch,” he growled, spitting on your cheek, he was surprised when you let out a gasp of arousal, “say my name.”

He watched you convulse beneath him, felt you writhe and twist in his arms. It was delicious. The way your cunt clamped on his cock, tighter and tighter, and harder and harder until your cervix felt bruised.

“You’re mine right now, Princess,” he told you breathlessly, “Say it.”

You felt his spit hit your face again and your pelvis tightened. Things like that were supposed to feel this good, and for a brief moment, an internal struggle between arousal and embarrassment took place. Your arousal when Sukuna spoke.

“Say my fucking name,” was his final demand, but you could only cry out nonsense, “Say it!”

“Su-Sukuna!” you cried, obliged to obey him.

You were rewarded with the relief of Sukuna removing one of his hands from your thighs, too fucked-out to move—or care—your leg still rested against your stomach. He bared his teeth and brought his hand back; you were astonished that he never lost his momentum.

He grunted as he breathed.

“That’s right,” his voice began to waver, close to his own climax, “good girl.”

You could almost believe you weren’t just a piece of meat to him, the way his tongue wrapped around the words he used could make anyone feel special. But you were rudely reminded this was Sukuna, not Yuji, when his swung-back hand collided with your thigh.

The Earth itself could have shattered at that very moment, and all you’d feel would be him; you thought yourself lucky enough to remember your name.

“Good—“ he grunted against your arching hips, begging for more you couldn’t possibly take, “—girl.”

Sukuna juddered on top of you, within you, while his claws made their final assault on your skin, while he buried himself as deep within you as possible. You writhed and mewled beneath him, your hands grasped at the carpet, desperate to hold onto something while the pressure of his hot cum filling your battered cunt overwhelmed you.

There was a faint sting that broke through the pleasure as he continued to roll his hips against you, gently for the time being, now that he was spent.

It astonished you how quickly his breathing returned to normal while you struggled to draw any breaths that felt satisfying, still recoiling and twitching. You could speak only broken gibberish.

Sukuna lowered your legs, you wished he’d more gentle; you winced as your hip joints creaked having been forced into such an uncompromising position. You felt the weight of his chest press against yours and his nose nuzzled gently against the crook of your neck.

There was a tense moment as you lay under him as your senses regained consciousness.

“Yu-Yuji?” you whimpered, tears threatened the edges of your eyes.

The pretty pink man who lay on top of you let out an angered growl, the hands that tightened around your wrists no longer had claws; there was care in the grip.

“I’ll kill him,” you heard him growl, his grip tightening.

“Yuji I’m—“ he didn’t leave you room to finish as he lifted his head, gazing down at you with furrowed eyebrows and bold, dark eyes.

“But first,” he told you, looking down at the mess between where your bodies connected, “it looks like I have to punish you first.”

He looked back to you—was he enjoying this?—and cast a dirty smirk at you.

“Because despite what Sukuna may think or say,” he continued, looming closer to you, his cock twitching with every word, “you haven’t been a good girl, have you, Princess?”

Your lips may have been moving but your voice was inaudible.

“You can thank Sukuna for one thing though, Princess,” he growled, nipping at your neck.

His voice broke when he deliberately moaned in your ear, a sound that made you squirm with delight.

“There’s no more holding back,” was the last thing he said before raising your arms above your head and locking his teeth to your neck.

545 notes · View notes

kissme-hs · 4 years ago

Note

Chris and reader get into a fight and Chris just bends her over and pushes her face onto the counter or the bed wherever you’d like and he says hella nasty shit to her....it sounded better in my mind I’m nervous🥺

I love you whoever sent this request and I would love to hear what you guys think of this one ;) Give feedback here. Please reblog if you enjoyed !!!

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Chris evans

Warnings: 18+ smut,Unprotected sex, mentions of daddy kink, degradation, filthy talk.

“I’m telling you for the last time you are not going to that goddamn party” Chris shouts from behind following you in the bathroom where you stood in front of the big mirror. You rolled your eyes making eye contact with his blue orbs and washed your face, letting the cold water hit your face, calming your angry nerves down.

Going back and forth over the argument ignited because of a simple question you asked him, even though there was no need for you to get his permission in doing whatever you desired, you still did as a gesture of mutual respect.

“Can I go to Andrew’s party?”

And who would’ve thought that a simple question would lit up his jealousy like a Christmas tree. Chris had no problem with you hanging out with guys, the trust he had in you was far more than enough for him to go to bed with no fear of you cheating, but it’s the man he doesn’t trust. Andrew literally undresses you to bare nothing with his eyes, and you were well aware of that fact, but its your friends for whom you wanted to go.

“you know, you should really learn how to control your jealousy” you said looking back in the mirror staring in his eyes through the reflection where he stood at the door. His eyebrow lifted up in pure frustration and toned muscular arms crossed across his chest. The way his arms flexed, you swore he could’ve ripped the blue t-shirt in pieces and not to your surprise it turned you on.

Seeing him jealous and all flustered up gave you the heartbeat down there.

“One more time-“

“Oh also Chris, you’re not my dad” You added the little comment cutting him off. And the next thing you knew was him gripping your neck with his big hand. His hips pressed against yours as your held on the white marble counter of your bathroom. Lips ghosting over your ear, his hot breath hitting your earlobe making you shiver.

“watch that little mouth of yours doll” Chris said through gritted teeth, tilting your head to allow him more access to your now exposed skin of neck. The strap of your tank top slipping down your shoulder. His lips came in contact with the supple skin, suckling and nipping behind your ear and every part of your bare neck he could. He sucked on the skin roughly and kissed so wetly making your legs tumble.

“I’ve not even touched you yet baby girl.” He chuckled deeply as you cling onto his arms to balance your crumbling self. His scruffy, wet lips dragged all the way chin to the base of your throat as you gasped with the pleasure.

“D-don’t leave hickeys, I’ve to go to the party” you whimper biting your lips as you kept you eyes closed. With the words leaving your mouth, his now loosened grip on your throat tightening up as he brings your ear once again close to his lips, biting the lobe before whispering deeply in it. Making your soul shiver.

“Bold of you to assume you’ll be able to walk because baby, I’m gonna fuck you so hard that the only name you’re gonna remember is of daddy’s. Do I make myself clear?”

And you never nodded your head so fast like you did this time. His deep raspy voice pooling your panties with wetness, you were sure he could easily slide in because of how soaked he got you.

Before you could blink your eyes and catch your breath that you missed because of his tongue on the soft skin of your neck, you were placed on the cold marble shelf. Hissing with the chill contact of countertop with your warm bum which was now bare too with the friction of his hips against yours—slipping the panties aside.

“It’s time for me to show you who’s incharge princess.” And which that he pushed your legs aside with putting your feet on the counter so that the only thing exposed open, was your clothed sex which Chris immediately pushed aside, mentally thanking you for wearing the most delicate pair of undies. The bathroom scented with the aroma of your now, wide spread open pussy.

His mouth watering with the sight. Your chest rising ever so quickly as he got close to your throbbing pussy, nudging his nose in and taking a long breath in, savouring the scent of your sex. And his hand reaching up to grab your tit from under the tank top, eventually pushing the cotton material further up to scrunch over your chest.

He physically felt his cock getting hardest as it could be. And his hunger growing to get a taste of that pussy.

“Chris please.”

“What’s the princess?”

“Fuck just eat me out already” you groaned in annoyance as the lust bubbled up inside your belly with rising impatience. Your pulsing clit craved his tongue, and for it to flick it until you come undone.

“Behave dirty girl” he slapped the wet skin making you jump and grow impatient even more. Grabbing your tit with one hand you gave him those eyes that made his knees go week but not this time. He chuckled shaking his head before slapping your pussy one more time.

“What’s the word princess?”

“Please daddy”

Those words made his dick twitch and his muscular tongue was now on your pussy. He licked and flicked and suckled and nibbled savouring every taste of the sex. His tongue wide spreading, collecting all the juices and he sucked on your clit like a leech not letting go on the bundle of never.

Your hand gripping on his hair as a natural reflex but he was quick enough to grip them and hold them down tightly against your belly, pressuring it down, well aware how it brings you easily to the edge. His other hand, yes other hand. One hand is big enough to grip your both hands in place as the finger of his other hand slides in your opening with ease, just like you thought.

Lips and tongue never leaving your clit as he pumped in his finger eventually adding one more to the party. The sound his mouth made was filthy, but he couldn’t care less, slurping every drop your pussy dripped.

“So fucking tasty, and all mine. You understand doll. All fucking mine.” He groaned with confidence of knowing how every inches of your body was to be marked by his name.

“Shit I’m close daddy” you cried throwing your head back against the mirror, whining out loud soon after with the lost of contact of his warm tongue against your pussy. The building up orgasm dangled on the edge with frustration of needing to release.

“I don’t think you deserve to cum yet doll.”

“But-“

“Shhh-“ he hushed you pulling you to him and swiftly flipping over. You were bent down on the counter within a single breath, the coldness, now hitting your perched nipples as he pushed your head down against the shelf. He was rough, yet he made sure you were comfortable with what he was doing.

His hard cock, which he took out when he was flipping you over (man of speed, ik) now pressed against the cheeks of your butt and your hands held together by his other hand. Removing his palm from your cheek head, he pumped his hard shaft rubbing it against your cleanched pussy.

The glistening and soft skin was making it harder for him to control himself and not fuck you right away. But you deserved some teasing, he wanted to make sure you realise who’s got the tie in hand.

“Feel that baby, see how hard you make me.”

“Y-yes” you said ever so quietly with your eyes rolled back in your head feeling the warm rub of his tip against your lips.

The harsh contact of his palm against the cheek of your butt opened your eyes wide, and the jiggle of the cheeks aroused him more than ever.

“Yes what princess?”

“Yes daddy”

“Tell me what you want”

“You”

“Tell me what you want”

You hissed again with the another spank coming in contact with the plump skin of your arse. This all wasn’t pain, but pleasure. You loved when Chris took control, not that it was rare but you enjoyed it more.

“Your Cock daddy. I want you to fuck me with that cock” you said rather loudly with gritted teeth getting sexually frustrated and you felt his hand gripping your hair pulling your head up until you were facing the mirror. His eyes roared darkly at you and you could see the dripping lust with jealousy.

“I want you to see me, while I’m fucking you. Want you to fucking see who you belong to”

And with that you heard the groan of satisfaction as he slammed his dick in your tight pussy without giving you time to adjust to his thick shaft. The fatness of his cock filled you up with utter deliciousness as he rammed it inside you, thrusting the hardest he could again making sure he wasn’t hurting.

Your buttcheeks bounced with every hit as you stared as his face. He was looking down at the connect sexes hitting his lip, more like admiring the jiggle of your cheeks with beautiful hand prints decorating the skin. He’s an ass men after all.

“Fuck me harder daddy. I’m all yours. This is all yours” you praised him giving his a boost once he started to slow down probably getting tired of hitting his hard, his body pacing up with the same energy as he held your throat leaning over your back to push your face to him so that he could connect his lips to your. The first kiss of the night and man he could feel his cum at the tip.

The sweet salty taste of your juices lingered on his tongue as your played with his it. He pulled onto your lower lip mercilessly before pulling away, hand still holding onto your neck. His body jerking into yours making the filthiest noise of skins slapping together. His chest now sweaty and you felt the sweat dropping on your back but you couldn’t care less. Your own body was covered with the salty water as you moaned out loudly feeling yourself coming on the edge for the second time this time.

His cock twiched once more inside your walls as you clenched them tight to squeeze his dick bringing him closer to his own orgasm.

“You think you can give that cum you’ve been holding now baby huh? Think you can show me how filthy you are. Hmm?” He asked resting his head on your shoulder as he placed multiple kisses on your neck.

Neck kisses along with his harsh thrust was more than enough for you to cry out in pleasure as you suirted all over his cock, which he immidiately pulled out to let his cum shoot all over your round ass. The grey fuzzy carpet now drenched in pure nasty of your orgasms.

You let your body rest on the counter letting your hand devour the cold feeling against the hotness of your skin.

“Think you’re still gonna go?” Chris laughed as he wet a hand towel to wipe you clean.

“Hm yes” you smirked and then shrieked when he threw the towel on the ground with you over his shoulder and carried to bed.

“Looks like daddy needs to teach you one more lesson baby doll.”

#SKSKSK THIS WAS HOT #chris evans x neutral reader #chris evans imagines #chris evans writngs #chris evans fanfictions #chris evans fics #chris evans smut #chris evans sex #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader

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rafael-silva · 4 years ago

Text

at your fingertips: a tarlos fic

When Carlos watches a video of TK working out at the firehouse in one of his old police academy t-shirts, he plans on showing TK just how much he appreciates seeing him in his clothes and the full scale of the effect the paramedic has on him once he gets home. Plus, Carlos has a comeback of his own.

for good things happen bingo: tarlos + wearing each other’s clothes

making out, kissing, neck kissing, soft carlos reyes/tk strand, sharing clothes, mild hurt/comfort, they are so in love, cuddling

3.3k | rated M | on ao3

*****

Carlos is in the middle of doing some chores around the house on his day off when he decides to take a break and scroll through Instagram.

He heads into the kitchen, fetching a cold bottle of water and retreats into the living room, falling backwards on the couch, relishing the feeling of the soft cushions under and behind him. After opening the app, he spots a new Instastory from Marjan and touches his finger to the screen there, playing it.

Carlos is glad he hadn’t taken a sip of water yet. Because he most likely would have choked on it from what his eyes are met with.

His eyebrows travel up his forehead a little and he knows the heat climbing his face isn’t from exhaustion or from moving around the house for the past couple of hours.

No. It’s from the video she’s uploaded.

TK, Paul and Mateo seem to be in the middle of some kind of challenge, a workout challenge. Marjan is clearly amused and entertained by the three men, judging by her off-screen laugh. Carlos knows that he’d probably be just as amused too if he were actually watching the video as a whole.

Carlos isn’t really aware of anything in that video except how damn good TK looks in one of his own old police academy t-shirts.

He had noticed that that shirt had mysteriously disappeared (or not so mysteriously when TK is his boyfriend) and now Carlos knew exactly what TK, and that t-shirt, were up to. He always knew TK looked good in his clothes, and knowing how the paramedic is very much a super ambitious clothes hoarder, he always looked forward to seeing TK in his clothes. Most of those moments a surprise, and the anticipation would also excite Carlos.

And boy, was this moment right now a surprise of its own. It hadn’t even crossed his mind, the possibility of TK wearing Carlos’s clothes at the firehouse, so that video kind of short-circuited Carlos’s brain, in a good way.

There is just something about the way his t-shirt hugs TK’s body, it had shrunk a little from wash after wash over the years, making it a perfect fit for TK. It fits his body like a glove, the sweat also making the shirt cling to his chest, leaving nothing to imagination. Not only that, but TK had gone ahead and rolled the short sleeves up to his shoulders, showing off his incredibly toned biceps as he lifts and lowers the dumbbells.

The video is over way too quickly. And if Carlos touches the screen again to reply it, well, who can blame him?

The officer’s body feels alive now, heat coursing through his veins. The tiredness that was lingering before is long gone now, replaced with fire. The effect TK has on him, even through a video, never fails to completely and utterly blow Carlos’s mind.

He draws in a deep breath and wills his heart to calm down, his eyes moving to the time on his phone. TK has six more hours for his shift and then he’ll be home.

Or, better yet, six more hours and Carlos can show TK how much he appreciates seeing TK in his clothes and the full scale of the effect the younger man has on him.

And if Carlos finishes the chores and errands while simultaneously counting down the minutes and having that Instagram story playing on a loop in his head, again, who can blame him?

*****

TK is pushing the condo door open and dropping his keys into the bowl nearby a little over six hours later. Carlos turns his attention from where he’s standing in the kitchen, and seeing TK stride in and dropping his duffel near the door, is all it takes for the officer to abandon the task at hand (putting away clean dishes) and makes his way towards his boyfriend.

Seeing TK in the flesh is more than enough to ignite the sparks that have been growing in Carlos’s stomach into a fire.

TK smiles sweetly at Carlos and then Carlos is on him, holding his face in place and cutting off TK’s “hey babe” by capturing TK’s lips in a hot kiss.

TK’s response is instant, his hands immediately going to grab at the back of Carlos’s t-shirt and he returns the kiss with the same fervor and heat. The kiss quickly turns messy, full of tongue, teeth and noses clashing.

Carlos swipes his tongue over TK’s bottom lip and proceeds to take TK’s same lip between his teeth, softly biting down just the way TK likes. And TK doesn’t hold back an inch of the heavy moan that escapes him at that.

The contrast in Carlos during these moments steals TK’s breath away, how Carlos can be so excited and on edge like this and is always very gentle at the same time. It makes TK’s head swim with how much he loves and wants Carlos.

Once he releases TK’s lip, Carlos moves down onto his neck, licking and sucking every patch of skin he comes in contact with. He takes it all in, inhaling TK’s scent, TK’s taste on his lips, TK’s small movements under his hold.

TK moves his head to the side and back, giving Carlos better access and exposing more skin for him. And by the small growl Carlos lets out, TK knows the larger man appreciates it.

“Who’s the tiger now?” TK says, teasing breathlessly.

He gets a small bite and swipe of a tongue over the area in response.

TK’s hand finds its way to Carlos’s loose curls, settling on Carlos’s head there.

Carlos then returns to TK’s face, giving him another heated kiss and it’s TK’s turn to hold Carlos’s face in his palms. Carlos is radiating heat, his face flushed red and the look he’s giving TK makes the paramedic shiver.

“Hmm,” TK hums, eyes glittering with pride. “I see it worked.”

Carlos watches TK for a few moments before replying, but then he instantly sees through a few things. The way TK walked into the condo, the flashes of pride on his face now, TK knew exactly what he was doing. And, oh.

“Wait,” Carlos’s eyebrows lift slightly. “Did you orchestrate this?”

TK can’t hold back, he drops his head for a second before meeting Carlos’s gaze again, his expression playful. “I think orchestrate is too big of a word…I saw an opportunity and made the best of it. Besides, I was looking forward to seeing and hearing what it did to you. Couldn’t wait to come home to this.”

Carlos shakes his head, intrigued and the thought that TK knew how Carlos would react and waiting to come home to him, to this, turns him on even more. Carlos doesn’t waste a single second in claiming TK’s lips in another passionate kiss. TK gives as good as he gets, and in an instant, he’s turning them around and pushing Carlos back against the wall behind them.

He pulls back, latching onto Carlos’s neck and peppering it with kisses and nibbles here and there.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about that video all damn day. You’re such a tease sometimes, you know that?” Carlos speaks, his voice husky as he runs his fingers through TK’s once-neat hair.

TK pulls back enough to answer Carlos. “Maybe,” he replies with a smirk. “I had something better than that video,” he adds with a pant and a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Carlos’s eyes go wide at that, starring directly into TK’s, the sheer want radiating from the officer’s brown eyes heat up TK’s face even more and makes his heat skip a beat. Carlos’s brain definitely conjures up an image of that selfie, and it increases the fire bubbling inside his stomach.

It stills makes TK a little dizzy and weak in the knees up until this day, every time he’s reminded the effect he has on Carlos, and it takes his breath away when he sees and feels how much Carlos Reyes wants him.

TK’s hands go back to Carlos’s face, cupping his cheeks and tenderly running his thumb over his cheekbones, Carlos leans into his touch and TK gives him a warm, soft smile.

“A selfie,” TK clarifies his last statement. “A sweaty selfie,” he purrs, his voice low and slow.

That’s all it takes for the little brown remaining in Carlos’s irises to completely fuse with the black now, his eyes not leaving TK’s flushed face.

“But Marjan beat me, posting that video and I knew it would also do the trick,” TK winks.

Carlos takes his own bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on his flesh while watching TK.

“Yeah, you always are a tease. A very sexy one,” he whispers before going back to showering TK’s neck with kisses.

“You love it,” TK quips back.

Carlos can’t see his face, but he knows the the smirk is widening on his boyfriend’s face, he can feel it. He’s pulling back slightly, his own face red and hot.

“You know I do,” Carlos replies, stealing TK’s breath with another kiss, but this one is more emotional. It’s like TK is his lifeline, and in more ways than one, he truly is.

TK doesn’t hold back, pouring everything he feels for Carlos into the kiss, the want, the love, the need for this man, and he deepens it, until they both become one, tangled together, not knowing where one end and the other begins. Neither of them know which of them is responsible for the moan that emits between them and neither of them care.

“I’m gonna need to see that selfie later,” Carlos heaves into the small space between them when they eventually separate. He cups TK’s face, running a thumb over TK’s kiss-swollen bottom lip.

They stop moving for a few moments, Carlos touching his forehead to TK’s and they just breathe together, breathe each other in, savouring this moment, engulfed in each other’s arms and love.

Carlos then brushes a tentative kiss to TK’s lips before pulling back and making his way to the stairs, his hand holding TK’s and pulling him along.

They hurry up the stairs and then it’s Carlos’s turn to gently push TK against the first wall they meet in their bedroom, framing TK’s body with his own. Carlos closes the distance between them, devouring TK’s lips, drinking TK in like he’s the first drop of water he has had in days.

Carlos grabs at TK’s hoodie, and they separate only long enough to remove it, followed by both of their shirts meeting somewhere on the floor. Carlos goes for TK’s belt next, whipping it off and discarding it somewhere near their shirts, the belt clattering on the floor where it lands.

TK pulls Carlos impossibly closer to him, their bare chests colliding and resting against each other. The mutual heat going off both of them in waves is almost too much to handle.

Carlos’s hands squeeze between them, finding their goal and unbuttoning TK’s jeans while TK’s go to the strings of Carlos’s sweats, pulling them loose.

“Off,” TK mumbles against Carlos’s lips.

“All in good time,” Carlos smirks in response.

TK is already so far gone he can scarcely believe it. His world has narrowed down to Carlos’s touches, his kisses, his beautiful skin and toned muscles. Narrowed down to Carlos.

The larger man pulls back, and something akin to a whine escapes TK’s lips at the loss of Carlos and his warmth. He doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it, though, because he’s being pulled towards the bed by Carlos and finds himself falling backwards on the mattress.

TK takes a second to adjust himself before Carlos is crawling on top of him, a hand on either side of TK’s head as he lowers himself and claims TK’s lips once again, a knee settling between TK’s open legs.

A hungry moan is heard from TK as he returns the kiss, his arms scrambling and wrapping around Carlos’s back, pulling him closer and then softly scratching his nails down the expanse of Carlos’s skin there, with just enough pressure he knows the officer likes.

He gets an immediate response from Carlos as he breaks the kiss and buries his face in TK’s neck, breathing a moan there.

Carlos begins to moves south, focusing on TK’s chest, every inch of it. He drops kisses here and there and stops at TK’s bullet wound scar, slightly discolored and standing out against the rest of TK’s skin.

His breath hitches a little at the reminder of just how close he had gotten to loosing TK, how close they had gotten to losing all of this. Flashes of that night take over his mind; hearing the radio call about a firefighter being shot after he had left the house, wishing he could take the first u-turn and race to the hospital while praying and praying it wasn’t TK. Having his heart ripped out of his chest when he finds out his fear had come true when Paul called him. Then hours later, standing in the hospital room doorway, tears clinging to his eyes, watching TK on the hospital bed, too still, too pale. Running his fingers through TK’s hair, and that time, unlike when TK would lean into his touch, getting no response. A light shudder runs through his body.

Knowing where Carlos’s thoughts have taken him, TK reaches out a hand and places it under Carlos’s chin, guiding his face towards him.

“Come back to me, ‘Los,” TK whispers. “I’m right here, baby.”

Carlos goes easily with him, looking into TK’s eyes and there’s so much he carries in those green irises, so much love and affection, so much promise and joy, accompanied with heat and want, and it’s all there for him.

Carlos nods and dives down, a passionate kiss erupting between them and TK lets Carlos take control and the lead, knowing that’s exactly what he needs right now. To feel TK, in every way. TK runs a hand through Carlos’s curls while the other cups his face.

“You’re beautiful, Ty,” Carlos admires. “Every inch of you, all of you, it’s you and it’s beautiful beyond words.”

The love and sincerity echoing off Carlos’s tone melts TK into a puddle. His heart swells in his chest at those words, knowing they come from the bottom of Carlos’s heart. He sees and feels the love Carlos has for him every minute of every day.

And TK will do everything in his power to make Carlos feel just as loved as he feels.

“You’re quite breathtaking yourself,” TK replies, his voice filled with emotion. “In every way. And it blows my mind that you’re mine.”

Carlos nods. “I am yours, and you are mine. My mind is just as blown as yours.”

They soon become a heap of tangled limbs, last pieces of clothing taken off and discarded here and there. The flame now burns brightly and hotly between them, the sparks surging through their bodies as they become one, electrified by each other in every way, roused by each other’s everything. They give each other their all, pouring everything they’re feeling and everything they are and it’s all understood, it’s reciprocated, it’s everything they need. And it’s perfect.

*****

Later in the night, TK is lying on his side of the bed, scrolling through Instagram when a text pops up on the top of his screen. He laughs when his eyes go over the words.

Marjan: You’re welcome, lover boy. ;)

TK: How did you even…

Marjan: Intuition. Also, I saw that Carlos watched that video. Plus, you looked smug leaving the firehouse after shift. Just putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

TK: I thought it was Paul’s thing to be, well…this.

Marjan: I have my moments, too.

Marjan: And Paul had agreed with me.

TK chuckles, hearing the smirk Marjan is most definitely wearing through her texts.

He hears footsteps making their way into the bedroom and he’s about to mention the text conversation to Carlos but the words stop short on his tongue when his eyes land on his boyfriend.

Carlos is standing tall, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, and in all his glory, is wearing TK’s black Austin FD hoodie.

And by the look decorating the officer’s face, he knows exactly what it’s doing to TK. Sure, it’s not a clingy t-shirt while working out, but he knows how much TK loves hoodies. It’s a subtle comeback, and with how TK is looking at him right now and the pink color painting his cheeks, it’s working.

The text messages go forgotten as TK’s eyes roam over Carlos’s figure, admiring the way his hoodie wraps around Carlos’s chest and arms. It’s a little snug at the biceps, and that just adds to the exquisite sight in front of him.

“Touché,” TK grins approvingly.

Carlos chuckles and pushes himself off the door frame, walking over and joining TK in bed.

“I was looking for it and then I remembered it was in the dryer,” Carlos says, pulling the blankets over them.

“I’m glad you found it,” TK winks and brushes a kiss to Carlos’s cheek. “You look good in my hoodie.”

He accepts the invitation of Carlos’s open arms and snuggles close, resting his head over Carlos’s chest and draping an arm over his middle.

“Hey, babe?”

“Hm?” Carlos looks at TK, his arm wrapped around his shoulder.

TK lifts his head so he looks into Carlos’s eyes. “I love you.”

Carlos’s face breaks into a soft smile, the smile that is reserved for only TK. “I love you, too, baby.”

They share a tentative kiss, tender and sweet.

“Oh!” TK says when they pull apart, his eyes sparkling as he reaches for his phone.

Carlos raises an amused eyebrow at his boyfriend and his phone pings a moment later.

He reaches for it and the text preview on his lock screen has him looking at TK with a fiery gaze.

TK blushes more under Carlos’s watch as a smirk takes over his face.

“You asked and you shall receive,” TK quips.

It’s the sweaty selfie Carlos was promised earlier. It’s more defined than the video, though the video had the grace of TK moving in that t-shirt, but the selfie holds the wonder of being up-close. The video hadn’t left anything to imagination, but the selfie goes a step further, not only showing the very satisfied look TK is wearing, but also showoff the edges of his well-defined abs, his strained biceps and the glint in his eyes, speaking volumes through the photo. It’s all on display for Carlos, and for Carlos only now.

And even though TK is right here, right next to him and he can reach out and touch everything in that picture, the selfie still leaves Carlos breathless. The effect TK has on him has Carlos going a little lightheaded, a familiar sensation of want brewing in his gut.

“Oh, Ty,” Carlos whispers before capturing TK’s lips in a kiss more heated than the previous one.

TK chuckles as he returns it, all-consumed by the rush that runs through his veins with his and Carlos’s tongues brush against each other.

“You know,” Carlos pants, his tongue darting out to swipe at his lips, TK following the gesture. “I have a couple more shirts you can borrow.”

“Hm,” TK replies, drawing in his own bottom lip between his teeth. “I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

Carlos smirks, a hand cupping TK’s face and runs his thumb over his cheek.

TK chuckles, a hand traveling to the nape of Carlos’s neck and pulls him in, connecting them with another kiss.

106 notes · View notes

zimms · 4 years ago

Note

do you know that reddit post that's like "i'm in quarantine with my roommate (we're both dudes) and we've been cuddling together a lot. am i gay?" because at least to me it has big olliewicks vibes

hey dude! i’m sorry this is so late, but hopefully you’ll like it!

Ollie groggily awakens to the feeling of two strong arms wrapped around his stomach, holding him close and grounding him. He lets out a sigh of contentment before squeezing his eyes shut and burrowing his head slightly further into the tangle of bodies, pursuing the warm heat of the other person. The body beneath him shifts slightly, emitting a slight groan and disturbing Ollie’s brief peace. That’s when he realises three things.

They’re in the middle of a pandemic.

His only human contact in the past two months, other than cashiers at their local grocery store, has been Wicky.

The person beneath him is definitely Wicky. Ollie can feel it in every plane, every angle, every curve of the body he’s laying on top of. It’s in the way that Wicky’s breathing slightly stutters after every inhale. He knows it’s Wicky because every inch of Wicky’s body is unique and Ollie’s memorised all of them. So yeah, definitely Wicky.

Ollie takes a moment to just breathe and catalogue the situation. He cracks an eye open and he immediately heaves a sigh of relief; they’re both wearing clothes, which means that they didn’t do anything that either of them might regret. Well, or at least, nothing that Ollie might regret; he can’t speak for whether or not Wicky might regret even cuddling him, let alone anything else.

He cranes his neck slightly to catch sight of the TV, where the Netflix Are you still watching? screen stares back at him. Oh yeah, they’d been watching Tiger King together on the couch before they’d fallen asleep on top of each other.

Ollie braces his hands on either side of Wicky and slowly rolls off of his best friend, careful not to land on the squeaky couch spring and wake him up. He slides slowly to the floor and places his head in his hands.

Fuck.

He squeezes his eyes shut and groans as quietly as he can into his palms. He’s been doing so well at tamping down his crush on Wicky up until now, but something inside of Ollie has ignited after spending the night in such close proximity to him. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to pretend when Wicky wakes up that he didn’t savour every moment that his skin was pressed against Wicky’s, that he doesn’t know exactly what Wicky looks like when he’s sound asleep, that he hasn’t memorised the way their chests rose and fell against each other in perfect synchrony.

Ollie shakes his head before pushing himself to his feet and padding into the kitchen to get breakfast. That’s enough thinking for today.

----

Ollie shifts his weight from side to side as he leans outside of George’s office and listens to the sound of chairs scraping behind the door. Thank fuck, they’re almost done; he’s been leaning against this wall for twenty goddamn minutes and his feet are aching. He straightens up as the door swings open and he plasters a grin on his face; no matter how annoying a long wait is, scowling probably isn’t the best first impression when you’re meeting your new employer.

However, Ollie’s grin disintegrates when he sees the guy that comes out of the office and instead his mouth drops open.

Holy fuck.

Ollie unashamedly stares at the guy as he ambles down the corridor. God, every inch of him is pure perfection. From cheekbones that could cut glass, to wide brown eyes that seem to reflect and emit light until the whole corridor illuminates with this guy’s presence. From the lopsided grin that plays across his face, to the biceps that are way too big for the sleeves of his Falcs t-shirt. Ollie lets his eye’s slide to the guy’s ass; yeah, that’s definitely a hockey player.

He’s stunning.

And, the little voice in the back of Ollie’s mind pipes up, a teammate.

Ollie slumps down the wall again and groans. He’s so fucked.

----

Ollie had hoped that he’d be able to avoid all thoughts of his crush on Wicky for a while, well, preferably forever. He’s always been so careful to never let their cellies on the ice go too far, never letting Wicky kiss him on the helmet like he does every other player, never letting their hugs last for too long, never actively seeking out physical affection from him other than quick bro hugs and a slap on the back.

The universe has other plans for him apparently.

That one night of couch cuddling seems to have opened the floodgates, because all of a sudden Ollie’s inundated by a tidal wave of physical affection from Wicky and it’s just becoming too difficult. Too difficult to ignore the onslaught of butterflies in his stomach when their hands brush slightly when they’re reaching for the salt at the dinner table. Too difficult not to stare at him when they’re watching a movie next to each other on the couch and he shifts over slightly so that their legs are touching. Too difficult to even begin to process and cope with the fact that Wicky has started coming into Ollie’s room to fucking cuddle with him. It’s too difficult because Ollie is finally allowing himself to hope and he doesn’t even fucking know if Pacer, Wicky, Pace, is anything other than straight.

It’s just too goddamn difficult to be around his best friend.

Ollie smiles down at where Pacer has tucked himself underneath his right arm, eyes softly shut and a peaceful smile playing across his face, and he feels his heart breaking. If he wants to preserve their friendship beyond this quarantine in any way shape or form, he needs to stop indulging himself like this. What if Pacer’s angry because Ollie’s taken advantage of him because Ollie’s using this- this thing between them to selfishly fulfill his own wants? What if Pacer’s only comfortable doing this because he thinks Ollie’s straight? What if-

Ollie squeezes his eyes shut and curls his hand into the sleeve of Pacer’s shirt, forcing that line of thought to come screeching to a halt before it becomes a trainwreck. He needs to stop thinking like that; Pacer’s not gonna abandon him after three years of friendship and being lineys because of some no homo, bro bullshit. Or at least, Ollie hopes he wouldn’t. Pacer’s not that kind of person.

(Aww, fuck. He also needs to stop referring to him as Pacer in his head. He needs to distance himself from Wicky somehow, and he’s definitely not going to pull away from him physically, especially as they’re each the other’s only source of human contact for the next month or nine, so emotional distancing will have to do.)

He heaves a sigh and lets himself slump against the headboard, careful to make sure that Wicky’s head doesn’t fall too quickly from where it’s leant against Ollie’s shoulder. Wicky stirs at the sudden movement and his eyes slowly open, a sleepy beam playing across his face and chestnut eyes staring intently at Ollie like he’s the moon gazing upon the sun.

Ollie muffles a groan. He just doesn’t know what to think anymore.

----

The second that Ollie and Pacer Wicks step onto the ice together for the first time it feels electric. They complement each other in every way; Pacer skates slightly faster than Ollie does, whilst Ollie has a slightly more accurate pass that finds Pacer every single time. It’s like they were made for each other.

It’s fantastic.

(It’s torturous.)

Ollie finds himself spending even more time with Wicky than he originally planned for, and things just keep going from good to great.

(They go from bad to worse)

They have the same taste in films to the extent that they now have a monthly The Princess Bride rewatch. They’re both cat people and it’s slipped into their pre-game routine to go for a walk together, looking for the neighbourhood cats and calling pspspspsp to them in the hopes that they’ll come running and grant them good luck before the game. They’ve won every game that they’ve stroked a cat before, so Ollie isn’t really inclined to let go of the superstition, and, judging by the way Wicky grins at the little fuzzballs, Wicky is equally reluctant to stop their pre-game walks. The best thing they have in common is that both of their leases are up at the end of this month; who’s Ollie to pass up the opportunity to live with the guy that’s rapidly becoming the most important person in his life?

(Ollie’s an absolute fool. Living with Wicky is going to kill him very slowly and definitely isn’t the way to rid himself of a crush that’s quickly morphing into something even more serious.

Ollie is, once again, fucked.)

----

Ollie tries to pull away slowly rather than withdrawing all physical affection at once. It’s painful, but if it keeps Wicky from hating him, Ollie will gladly do it. Heck, if it was to protect Wicky, Ollie would do anything.

He starts slowly. He shifts over a bit on the couch, leaving a deliberate gap between them on the couch, so that no wandering limbs can reach out for each other. He makes sure to hold out the condiments at dinner, so that there’s no way for either of them to find an excuse for their fingers to touch, no matter how much Ollie hungers for it. He starts spending more time in his room, doing his online college courses there, rather than in the living room like he usually does. He goes to bed earlier, hoping, wishing, praying that Wicks doesn’t try to join him for a cuddle.

(Ollie ignores the little voice in the back of his mind that’s screaming to feel the press of Wicky’s warm body against his again. He ignores the wounded glances that he receives from Wicky every time he avoids eye contact. He ignores the aching pangs inside of his chest that appear whenever he spends too long gazing at Ollie.)

----

Moving in together is the best idea and the worst idea that Ollie’s ever gone along with.

Pros: He gets to spend every day with Wicky.

Cons: Spending every day with Wicky might actually kill him soon. RIP Oliver O’Meara. Cause of Death: Walking into the kitchen and seeing Wicky topless and sleep rumpled, muscles rippling as he reaches for the coffee.

Pros: He knows Wicky almost as well as he knows himself.

Cons: He now knows that Wicky is hung up on someone after one particularly drunken ramble.

(Fuck.)

----

It’s a week after the first cuddling incident that Wicky pulls open the door to Ollie’s room and marches in, eyebrows lowered and eyebags darker than ever. Ollie immediately slams the lid of his laptop shut, straightening up from where he’s slumped against the headboard of his bed. He frowns. “What’s up, Wicky?”

Wicky freezes on the other side of the room. “What’s up?” he says, voice cracking and strangled. Yikes, this must be worse than Ollie thought it was. “You’re asking me what’s up?” He drops onto the bed, like a stone sinking to the bottom of a river. “You’re the one that’s disappeared recently.” He pushes the heels of hands into his eyes. “We used to do everything together and now whenever I look for you, you’re in here.” He tears his hands away from his face, to gesture frantically around the room. Wicky appears to be manic; his hair’s all ruffled and there’s this slightly crazed look in his eyes. “What did I do, Ol?”

Ollie scrambles out of bed to come and sit next to Wicky. He stretches out a hand to comfort Wicky, but withdraws it as he fumbles for what to do or say. “You didn’t do anything, Pace,” he says softly, resisting the urge to reach out and swipe away the tears that are trickling intermittently down his cheeks. “It’s me that’s the problem.”

Wicky raises an eyebrow at him, stare stern in spite of the crying. “Really? So you’re completely fine with me cuddling you? And definitely didn’t start shutting down any of my attempts to spend time with you?” Ollie flinches and Wicky scoffs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“I-” Ollie trails off, eyes wandering until his gaze meets Wicky’s. The look in Wicky’s eyes isn’t scornful, no matter how much it deserves to be, instead his eyes are calm and fathomless like the earth after a long-anticipated rain. “I didn’t want to hurt you, though I clearly failed in that respect. I’m just so worried that you’re going to think less of me, especially once I tell you that-” Ollie clamps his mouth shut, as words he’s barely even thought to himself start to tumble out into the open.

“Tell me that..?” If Ollie didn’t know any better, he’d think that there was a trace of hope in Wicky’s voice. “C’mon, Ol, I’m not gonna leave you, no matter what you say.”

Ollie rubs his hand across his eyelids before stuttering out, “I’m in love with you.” Shit, that is not what he meant to say. “Fuck, I mean, I like you. Romantically.” He hides his face in his hands. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so I figured going cold turkey for a couple of days might do me some good.” He pulls his hands from his face suddenly and lets them drop to his knees. “Is that what you wanted to hear? That I like you? That I might be, fuck it, I am in love with you?”

The silence in the room answers that question for him and Ollie feels a tear roll down his face and a gutteral sob tear its way from his throat.

“Fuck, Ol,” Pacer says, scrubbing a weary hand across his face, and that’s when Ollie knows that it’s all over, that he’s going to be rejected by the most important person in his life. “That’s definitely not what I was expecting, but it’s not unwelcome by any means.”

It’s not?

Ollie suppresses a sniffle as he voices this sentiment aloud.

Pacer laughs, honest to God, laughs. “It’s actually very welcome, considering the fact that I’ve been pining for you since long before you got traded to Providence.”

He’s what-?

“I-” Ollie stumbles over the words, cheeks heating, “but you’re straight? And you’re hung up on someone?”

Pacer swipes a thumb across Ollie’s cheek, tracing the trail of his blush. “Ol, when did I ever say I was straight?” he asks, his gaze intently focused on Ollie. “Anyway, it’s always been you.” He leans in closer, breathing out one final word before sealing their lips together. “Always.”

#purple-is-great #my writing #ollie and wicks #olliewicks #omgcp

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diavolodigitale · 3 years ago

Text

Stare

So... there’s this. I wrote most of the text like half a year ago and I was reeeeeally happy about it, but then I finished reading the novel and just kind of dropped it. Anyway, I came across this story among some other trash in my folders some time ago and decided that I was strongly determined to finish it as it would be a shame if I wasted so much work.

Me: the beginning was so good, I am upset about the way I finished it :C well, nobody’s going to read it anyway, so who cares.

AO3: psst, you wanna 1000+ hits on this?

Lately, Lan Xichen had been feeling uneasy all the time. No matter where he went, he would feel apprehensive and tense, as if something threatened him, pricked him in the back. Perhaps, it was high time for him to finally turn around and face what had been lurking in shadows this whole time.

Genres: Romance, Fluff, Comfort, Eventual Romance

Pairing: Lan Xichen/Jiang Cheng

Characters: Lan Xichen, Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, Jin Ling, Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi

Rating: G for God why is it so long

Size: whopping 16000 words (all 5 chapters are in this post)

Chapter 1: Aggressive

Standing in the doorway of the Cloud Recess reception hall, Lan Xichen slightly turned his head to face the inside of the spacious room. The feeling of uneasiness he had been experiencing for the last couple of minutes reached its peak, which made him resolute to find out what exactly seemed so wrong to him. It was the time of what one might call a sporadic celebration held by the Gusu Lan sect together with the Yunmeng Jiang sect every once in a while with the purpose of strengthening the bonds between the two sects. The guests had already gathered and now were merrily chatting around him, yet from the very beginning of the ceremony he had been feeling as though something was odd, and this feeling did not let him be at ease.

His gaze slid swiftly from one corner of the room, passing the members of both clans resting at their tables, each on their respective side, and stopped abruptly at the face of Jiang Cheng, who was sitting stiffly, holding a cup with liquor in his hand, and fixedly staring at him with an unusually grim expression on his face. The moment Lan Xichen caught him doing that, he tried to avert his eyes as if he hadn’t been looking that way at all, and gulped everything that was in his cup at one go.

Not unlike Jin Guangyao, Lan Xichen was very much concerned with the well-being and comfort of his guests, so he immediately thought that something must have happened that angered the leader of the Jiang sect, who was, in addition to everything, quite infamous for his short temper. With Jiang Cheng diligently hiding his gaze, the atmosphere, to which Lan Xichen was quite susceptible, lightened quite considerably, so he concluded that his feeling must have appeared because of Jiang Cheng’s dissatisfaction with the Gusu Lan sect’s ceremony.

His smile as kind and genuine as ever, Lan Xichen elegantly but promptly approached the table at which Jiang Cheng was sitting.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” he greeted and bowed politely, joining his hands in front of himself.

“Sect Leader Lan,” murmured the greeting Jiang Cheng, standing up from his mat and also bowing in respect.

Despite the fact that Lan Xichen would frequently personally greet all of his guests, he had been unprecedentedly busy before this particular celebration and hadn’t had the opportunity to welcome the disciples and members of the Yunmeng Jiang sect when they had just arrived. He was wondering if that might have become the cause for Jaing Cheng’s displeasure.

“Are you enjoying the ceremony, Sect Leader Jiang?” he asked, his eyes slightly squinted because of the smile blooming on his face. He was sure the ceremony would satisfy the needs of all of his guests as Lan Wangji had personally attended to all of the matters that concerned its organization. In spite of that, he still wanted to make sure nothing out of the ordinary had happened that might have spoiled the mood of his guests.

“Yes, I am,” nodded Jiang Cheng, taking a seat on his mat again. He abruptly turned his eyes to Jin Ling, who, he had noticed earlier, was frantically spinning and turning at his own table beside him. Sending him a condemnatory look, he turned back to Lan Xichen and added, “Do not bother, Sect Leader Lan. You could not have held a better ceremony.”

Lan Xichen bowed lightly in gratitude. Jiang Cheng was a difficult person to deal with, so he, of course, would not have let it out even if something had really displeased him, especially to the sect leader’s face, so Lan Xichen decided to stick around for a little longer and entertain the Yunmeng Jiang sect leader with his presence, just to be on the safe side.

“I sincerely hope you do not mind me joining you,” he said politely, kneeling beside Jiang Cheng’s table.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened a bit from surprise as it was not common for a sect leader to sit beside their guests instead of taking their seat at the head of the main table.

“No… not at all,” he replied, trying to make his voice seem emotionless and rigid.

Jin Ling stared at them with overt interest, having abandoned the food he indulged into only moments ago. Jiang Cheng sent him another killing stare, reminding him to watch his manners, and the young man was forced to mind his own business yet again. He was extremely bored to sit there all alone with nobody to chat with, but even more than that he was afraid of a future scolding, so in the end decided not to test his uncle’s patience.

“How do you find the liquor from Gusu, Sect Leader Jiang?” asked Lan Xichen, carefully filling his cup from the liquor bottle standing on his table.

Jiang Cheng accepted the cup and looked into the clear liquid inside of it, reflecting on the question. Not a single muscle on his face twitched as he gulped it and set the cup on the table with a quiet tap.

“It is to my liking,” he said briefly and threw a quick glance at the bottle in Lan Xichen’s hands.

The man in front of him smiled vividly and busied himself with filling his cup yet again.

Some visitors of the Cloud Recess felt quite uncomfortable when served the liquor there as the Lan sect members wouldn’t join them in drinking it, and Jiang Cheng was definitely one of them. Yet he could not admit it as it seemed impolite for him to refuse a drink offered by the sect leader himself.

“Young Master Wei mentioned quite a few times that he preferred it to the liquor from Yunmeng,” said Lan Xichen, offering the filled cup to Jiang Cheng once again.

“I am sure he did,” murmured Jiang Cheng and pouted for reasons unknown to his interlocutor. He took the cup from Lan Xichen but did not down it and instead continued to hold it in his hands, as if warming it.

To avoid the uncomfortable silence that arose after mentioning Wei Wuxian in the conversation, Lan Xichen sighed with pretended disappointment and said, “I myself was never able to try it, so all I can do is believe Young Master Wei’s as well as Sect Leader Jiang’s words. Could you, perhaps, describe the taste to me, Sect Leader Jiang?” The smile not fading from his face for even a second, Lan Xichen tilted his head a bit and added, “If it would not be too much of a bother for you, of course.”

“It is...” started Jiang Cheng, still looking into his cup instead of lifting his head to face Lan Xichen, and squeezed his lips.

Jin Ling was gawking at them again, leaning a bit on the wooden surface before him, his puppy eyes gleaming at the sight of something even slightly more interesting that the plates on his table he was rearranging this whole time. Jiang Cheng only sighed at the annoying youngling’s behaviour and continued after a short pause.

“It is sweet with a bit of spice in it. It does not sting like some other wines I have been lucky enough to sample and because of that it is quite easy to be tricked by its mildness and drink more than one should.”

After blurting out the last part of the sentence, Jiang Cheng hurried to drink the wine in his cup, this time savouring the taste.

Watching him drink, Lan Xichen nodded a few times as if understanding what Jiang Cheng meant.

“Has Sect Leader Lan ever felt like tasting the wine himself?” asked Jiang Chen, not giving him back the cup for refilling. Immediately, though, he seized the question, not letting Lan Xichen even consider his answer. “My apologies if I am being disrespectful, asking such a thing. Please, disregard my question.”

La Xichen shook his head, smiling.

“I was curious. There is no shame for anybody in wanting to try the unknown. I am only inquiring about it because, if I am being completely honest, I still am curious,” he squinted his eyes in a guilty smile, his hands lying flat on his knees, not able to get a hold of the cup to fill for his guest. “It is the fragrance, you see,” he continued. “I can feel a very strong fruit aroma enveloping the room every time we hold a ceremony in the Cloud Recess, and it piques my curiosity.”

“It must be tough for the Lan sect disciples if even Sect Leader Lan feels this way,” exclaimed Jin Ling surprisedly. Jiang Cheng immediately turned to him with his whole body, the sight of his clenched fist silencing all further remarks of his nephew.

Lan Xichen laughed softly, taking the cup from Jiang Cheng’s tight grip and startling him with an airy touch on his fingers. He seemed to hear the fragile porcelain almost crack in Jiang Cheng’s hand and decided to save his guest from likely injuring himself, even if it came at the cost of him looking a bit insolent.

“Indeed, it is tough, but they have many other things to enjoy here,” he said, filling the cup yet again. “Sect Leader Jiang, do not be angry at Young Master Jin. Let children be children, as inquisitive and restless as they can be. At least during such festivities.”

Jin Ling’s eyes lit up when Lan Xichen himself stood up for him. He glanced at his uncle, awaiting his reaction, and felt satisfied, seeing how Jiang Cheng ended up following the advice of his senior and only sighed again defeatedly, accepting the cup.

“Children are not easily entertained during such events. Perhaps, Young Master Jin would like to leave the reception hall and join the Gusu Lan sect disciples who right now happen to practice archery in the training yard? Of course, with the permission of his sect leader,” said Lan Xichen, glancing kindly first at Jin Ling, and then at his uncle.

Hearing the proposal, Jin Ling grew even more agitated and pressed his hands hard on his knees, silently praying for Jiang Cheng to let him go.

As soon as Jiang Cheng gave him a short nod, he sprinted out of the hall, thanking both him and Zewu-Jun as he ran towards the exit.

“Running is prohibited in the Cloud Recess!” rang the voice of Lan Qiren from somewhere on the other side of the room, but Jin Ling was already too far to care or even notice.

Lan Xichen gracefully covered his mouth with his long white sleeve, letting out a short laugh. Jiang Cheng clicked his tongue, his brows furrowing as he looked in the direction Jin Ling ran in.

“I will bring the brat back and make him apologize for his behaviour,” he said through gritted teeth.

Fearing he would really stand up and follow his nephew, Lan Xichen rushed to stop him.

“No need to worry, Sect Leader Jiang, Young Master Jin will be able to make amends for it later. I am sure it is not the last time you are in the Cloud Recess after all.”

Having been positively influenced by Zewu-Jun’s wish to keep the ceremony as peaceful and tranquil as possible, Jiang Cheng seemed to quickly calm down, and for once stopped thinking about how his nephew always allegedly brought him trouble and shame in the eyes of the surrounding people.

Lan Xichen noticed that Jiang Cheng still did not drink the wine he poured him previously, so he tried to redirect his attention to that instead.

“Ah, now that I think of it, Sect Leader Jiang has just mentioned that it is quite easy to drink more wine than one should, and I am now hurrying him to drink even more without offering a single bite of food. How improper of me,” he said and bowed slightly, feeling a bit foolish.

“Please, do not apologize, Zewu-Jun, I am treated well, and I have everything I need here,” awkwardly replied Jiang Cheng and took a grape from one of the small plates standing on the table in front of him as if to assure the host he was really fine. “What is more important,” he muttered, “I feel like I am stealing the attention of Zewu-Jun from the other guests. Please, do not feel obliged to entertain me exclusively, I do not require others to keep me company at all times, Zewu-Jun.”

His words sounded a bit harsher than he wanted them to, yet there was no going back, so he just sat and looked at Lan Xichen. The expression of the latter one, however, did not change the slightest, he only shook his head again with the same mild smile.

“Sect Leader Jiang is our most important guest, so there is no other person here today more entitled to get my attention. Moreover, I do not feel forced, so Sect Leader Jiang has nothing to worry about. Only if my presence burdens him, will I take my leave,” he said, screwing his eyes. One might say the words would sound somewhat shamelessly if it was not for the person who uttered them.

Having felt the air in the room become significantly livelier and lighter after he came to keep Jiang Cheng company, Lan Xichen decided it would be best to stay and personally make sure his guest did not need anything and felt comfortable and satisfied, thus, the condition he put forward.

“No-no! It is not that… I did not…” blurted Jiang Cheng, gravely afraid to offend or anger his most powerful ally who also just happened to be the calmest person ever known to the cultivation world. He managed to quickly compose himself and went on, “I would not want Zewu-Jun to have sore knees because of me.”

He looked at how Lan Xichen had been sitting on the bare floor this whole time and clenched his teeth and the jawbone below his temples jutted.

“Then I will take a cushion not to trouble the sect leader and join him shortly,” answered Lan Xichen, not leaving Jiang Cheng any other choice than to comply.

Lan Qiren shook his head, disapproving of the sight.

Wei Wuxian conspiratorially leaned to Lan Wangji sitting beside him and whispered to him, covering his mouth with his hand.

“What are they even doing there? Lan Zhan, why is Zewu-Jun not sitting at his table today?”

Lan Wangji did not answer and only continued to look at how his brother was arranging a seat for himself near Jiang Cheng.

Wei Wuxian hmphed and mumbled to himself.

“Well, if Hanguang-Jun doesn’t know, then there is nobody in this room I can possibly ask apart from Zewu-Jun himself”.

Watching intently as Jiang Cheng was constantly huffing and puffing, his face shifting from grim and pale to anxious and bluish, while Lan Xichen was smiling, and smiling, and smiling his warm and amiable smile, filling his cup again and again, Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but chuckle at how helpless his shidi looked.

“Wei Ying, stop staring,” whispered Lan Wangji, his glance pricking Wei Wuxian as he reproached him for his inappropriate behaviour.

“Lan Zha-a-ang,” uttered Wei Ying slowly, giving Lan Wangji a few reassuring pats on the back, “don’t be such a bore. Even if you don’t want to look, I do, because this is truly a sight I do not indent to miss even a second of.”

Chapter 2: Threatening

Another eerily similar episode happened to Lan Xichen in a few weeks’ time, during the nighthunt under the supervision of the Yunmeng Jiang sect. Both of the sects participated in it by mutual agreement.

The hour was late and the night air was fresh. No animals or any other wildlife could be seen active in the proximity of the cultivators’ makeshift

camp situated on the clearing in the woods. Long arms of trees reached out far and intertwined, creating the illusion of closed space around the clearing, but the area in the middle of it was brightly illuminated by the moon light on a par with many lanterns brought by the cultivators. The atmosphere was calm enough, despite the fact that many people were agitated and anxiously looking forward to the grandiose fight, some of them making practice swings with their swords while the others fought their urges to start a bonfire and nestle cozily beside it, falling asleep, surrounded by dark wilderness.

“Brother, the beast has fled from Young Master Jin’s trap,” uttered emotionlessly Lan Wangji, having approached his brother. Zewu-Jun was graciously standing near a tall branchy tree at the side of the clearing and watching the cultivators roam around and try to find the track of the beast they came to hunt down.

“As expected,” he said knowingly, “having been wounded by it, it is now enraged and will soon come to seek its revenge.”

Lan Wangji nodded agreeingly. They knew it was not the best idea, to put a trap for such a huge beast, as it was clearly not able to hold it back, much less kill it. Nonetheless, they chose not to raise their concerns as this time they were only the guests of the Yunmeng Jiang sect. Jin Ling’s methods differed from those used by their disciples, but he seemed to have quite a lot of fun, nighthunting using all of the means provided to him by his uncle, and there was enough of adult cultivators around to take care of the situation in case something went wrong.

Hearing Jin Ling, Lan Sizhui, and Lan Jingyi happily chattering over the enormous footprints the beast had left along a narrow path in the woods, Lan Xichen smiled. His goal had always been to discipline his disciples so that he could later let them wander around the world without having to worry for their safety. It was achieved by teaching them to control themselves, be careful and aware of their surroundings, and putting as much knowledge into their heads as it was humanly possible. Nevertheless, at such moments he wanted to give them as much freedom as he could, understanding how thousands and thousands of rules of the Gusu Lan sect could impinge on the young minds such as theirs.

He looked at Lan Wangji standing proudly beside him, his face so similar to his own, yet so different at the same time.

“Wangji, where will you go after the nighthunt is over?” he asked inquisitively.

“Don’t know. Let us catch the beast first, then think,” he answered with no emotions colouring his voice.

“I will be glad to see you in Could Recess, but if you have other plans…” Lan Xichen hesitated before smiling with the corners of his lips as he looked at Wei Wuxian, who pretended to teach something extremely valuable to the juniors standing with their mouths gaping, and continuing, “I do not mind either.”

Lan Wangji bowed to him in gratitude, knowing that it was not easy for his brother to let him go and take all of the responsibilities of leading the sect onto his shoulders. Anyway, he did not intend to leave before the beast was dealt with, and Wei Wuxian’s extreme desire to glance at how big and wild it was was only one of many reasons for that.

It was rumoured that the beast was a giant scorpion with a head of a snake coming out of its tail instead of a sting. As tall as four horses stacked atop of each other, it supposedly could kill a negligent passer-by in more than a hundred different ways: crush them by its weight, swallow them completely, strangle them with its wriggling snake body; and those were only the methods mentioned briefly in the tavern of the nearby city by its owner, who was so eager to discuss the beast, the cultivators did not even have to pay him for his tongue to loosen.

Nobody knew where such a beast could come from or where it could possibly be hiding at, as nobody ever lived long enough to see it leave. In any case, tales told by common folk were rarely to be trusted in such circumstances, as quite frequently the beasts that were frolicking around the forests and killing hundreds of men turned out to be mere animals that grew a bit too large in size and scared one or two villagers on their way home. What one misheard, the other one overexaggerated, and so the stories of hellish demon spawns were born to reach the ears of the members of the cultivation sect that was the closest to the infested area.

Experienced cultivators knew not to hope too much to encounter what they were promised, but the juniors still held a youthful lust for adventures, the tales of which they would be able to share with each other afterwards as a part of their competition for the title of the bravest and most talented swordsman. They wandered around the area of the forest not too far away from their seniors and tried to determine what was the beast’s movement pattern, veering, as Wei Wuxian was lazily sitting on the tree branch and pointing with his flute to the spots they should inspect, his leg swinging casually.

Should the beast really be as incredible and mighty as it was described by the villagers, the amount of negative air enveloping the members of the two sects would be overwhelming at best. Despite that, the only thread of threatening energy Lan Xichen felt was the one directed solely at him. It was far too weak to affect him in any way, but its pricking still made him

feel uncomfortable and a bit twitchy, even though he did not display it. The energy was not scattered all over the place and instead bothered only him, which made him think it must not be the beast who was emitting it.

As he was pondering over where this energy could possibly be coming from, he noticed his brother standing quietly, directing all of his attention at a particular spot on the other edge of the circular clearing the cultivators were occupying. He followed his gaze, but could not see what he was staring at.

“What is the matter, Wangji?” he asked.

“I thought I saw someone,” replied Lan Wangji with notes of concern in his voice, only discernible by Lan Xichen.

“Behind that tree?” asked Lan Xichen, seemingly not worrying even a tad.

Lan Wangji nodded, clenching the hilt of Bichen.

Lan Xichen put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head lightly before rising noiselessly up into the air with the intention of flying over to the other side and not scaring away a person that stood there, hiding. His snowy robes and ink-black long hair fluttered in the wind when he suddenly stopped and descended back down, hearing a familiar voice ringing out further in the woods.

“Uncle Jiang! What are you standing here for? I almost didn’t notice you!” yelled Jin Ling, slamming into the tree Lan Xichen previously wanted to approach to stop himself from passing by Jiang Cheng.

Without saying anything, Jiang Cheng came out from behind the tree, his fists clenched, eyes bulging, and lips pouting. He couldn’t make up his mind as to how we could scold his nephew for what he had done, so instead only stared at him, hoping that the stare would be as effective as the words he was now at a loss for.

Jin Ling did not understand why in the world his uncle was angry already since he did not yet do anything to cause this. He did his best to ignore this sudden fit of rage and continued as if nothing happened.

“I was looking for you everywhere! Uncle Jiang, Uncle Wei showed me how we can track the beast’s way starting at my trap. Will you go in search of it with us?” he beamed, not being able to stand still from the excitement that filled him.

“Uncle Wei?” mocked Jiang Cheng, the corner of his lip twitching. “If he is your uncle now, what do you even come to me for? Next time we are in Lotus Pear, why don’t you collect all of your belongings and join him on his journeys instead of staying?” he raged.

Jin Ling’s eyes reddened a bit and lips started to tremble. The situation seemed so unfair to him. Having lost one of the few relatives he had and suddenly having found another one only to be chided for it by the closest person he had, he felt like running away immediately and never speaking to Jiang Cheng again. He was used to his uncle yelling at him left and right, but the topic of family had always been his weak spot, and he knew that Jiang Cheng was well aware of that.

“Maybe I will!” he shouted with a wobbling voice. “If you don’t want to see me in Lotus Pier, you can just say so, you don’t have to look for excuses like uncle Wei!”

Everybody directed their attention to the two yelling at each other. The disciples of the Yunmeng Jiang sect were, of course, long accustomed to such squabbles between their leader and his nephew, but this one in particular seemed to be a tad worse than most of the previous ones.

Fairy ran towards its owner, barking loudly, as it sensed how upset he was. It sat close to Jin Ling’s feet, flattened its ears against its head, and pushed its black snout into his hand in between his trembling fingers.

Jin Ling, being almost on the verge of crying, carefully petted it with his hand and fearlessly looked Jiang Cheng in the eyes.

Looking at them sticking so close to each other in search of support, both confused and distressed, Jiang Cheng felt extremely guilty. He knew that he shouldn’t have said what he had, but it was also incredibly hard for him to admit his mistake, especially in front of so many people that included his own subordinates as well as the prominent cultivators from the Lan sect. He was breathing heavily as the feelings of remorse and spite fought inside of him. As always, spite won.

“Jin Ling! You-”

“Sect Leader Jiang,” interrupted Lan Xichen, appearing out of nowhere beside him. Everybody was so focused on the argument that didn’t even notice when he managed to approach the two. The expression on his face was gentle, yet he was not smiling, feeling it would be completely out of place at the time.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” he repeated to get Jiang Cheng’s attention, “please, let us consider this incident a misunderstanding. Both you and Young Master Jin need some time to cool off, so why don’t you speak again after we finish the nighthunt together?”

Lan Xichen wanted to lay his hand on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, but it seemed to him that he would get a scorch from how furious he was, so he dared not. He gave Jin Ling a sympathetic look and nodded encouragingly,

taking his chances to persuade at least one of the sides to settle for a temporary peace.

Jin Ling sniffed, trying his best not to let a single tear slip out of his eyes, crossed his hands on the chest and turned away, showing his unwillingness to continue the talk.

“Fine,” roared Jiang Cheng and determinately fled deeper into the forest, not to be bothered by anybody else. Lan Xichen, however, did not agree with his decision, so he followed him, waving his hand for others to stay away. Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian gingerly approached Jin Ling, pushing Lan Wangji to the front as he went to get an obstacle between him and the huge spiritual dog panting at Jin Ling’s feet. He was not yet ready to overcome his fear, but seeing his shijie’s son at such a state was more than he could handle.

“Sect Leader Jiang!” called Lan Xichen, almost catching up with Jiang Cheng. “Please, wait.”

Jiang Cheng stopped abruptly and sighed, still clenching his fists.

“I know that my behaviour was ill-advised, Sect Leader Lan. I apologize that you had to witness it, but I cannot make up for it right now. Maybe, it would be best if you joined your sect members and defeated the beast for the nighthunt and everything about it to finally be over.”

“Sect Leader Jiang’s disciples are all extremely skilled and talented, I am sure that my help is not needed at the moment,” said Lan Xichen consolingly and couldn’t help but let an awkward smile slide onto his face.

Jiang Cheng turned around and faced the only person that had the audacity to follow him. Other cultivators having stayed behind, there was nobody to hold a lantern and illuminate the place, so his face was completely submerged into darkness. Despite that, Lan Xichen still managed to discern what a guilty and upset expression he was wearing. One single ray of moonlight managed to slip through thick branches above, and for a second it seemed like Jiang Cheng’s eyes were shimmering.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” started Lan Xichen again, seeing how Jiang Cheng could not find any suitable words, “lately, I have noticed that something is bothering you. Has anything happened?” Similarly to Wangji’s, his robes possessed a peculiar feature of giving the effect of shining in the darkness, even without a proper light source nearby. His hair descended in soft waves onto his lapels and blew in the late-night breeze. Holding his hands behind his back, he was the epitome of tranquility.

Jiang Cheng had always envied such people and how they never lost control over anything.

“No,” he uttered, raising his head to feel the wind roaming up in the tree branches and rustling the leaves above them.

Lan Xichen was drawn away from gazing onto his tired face by the sudden gust of hateful energy brought about by the wind. It was indeed strong, stronger than what he had expected to find in the forest that night. Immediately he became more alert and reached for the xiao hanging on his waist.

“Seems like we are not alone anymore,” smirked Jiang Cheng, stroking the ring on his index finger.

For a moment, complete silence fell onto the forest. Then the beast emerged.

Should the other cultivators be with them at the moment, Wei Wuxian and all of the younger disciples would be glad to learn that at least the tales of it having a hideous snake head instead of a sting were true. Its eyes were dangerously gleaming in the darkness as it menacingly approached the two sect leaders. Its size was truly terrifying, even though it was quite difficult to determine if it was really as tall as rumoured. The cloud of resentful energy it produced was so overpowering that both men were taken aghast. It was impossible to understand how such a large beast with this much dark power managed to sneak up on them.

Not taking even a second of delay, Lan Xichen grabbed Liebing. The sound, cold and clear, enveloped everything around them, and the beast immediately staggered on its way to attacking him. Lan Xichen took a few careful steps back, still playing his xiao. The beast roared and squelched because of the melody piercing it right to its essence, but still followed him. It would not be a difficult fight for the leader of the Lan sect, seeing how he was able to take control of the creature at the very start of it, but it wasn’t meant for him to finish off the monster that night.

With a low growl, Jiang Cheng made an abrupt movement of his hand, and a neon-purple whip traced its pattern, hitting the ground beneath his feet and making a dent in the soft undergrowth. The beast turned its ugly head to the startling sound and took a giant step towards Lan Xichen, wanting to escape the newly emerged threat. With no hesitation at all, it sent his tail with a snake’s mouth wide-open towards Jiang Cheng in an attempt to drive him back.

Engulfed in the ghostly sound of the flute, Jiang Cheng glanced in the direction the beast was advancing to, and his body moved without him even having to make a conscious effort. He dodged the bite of the giant snake, almost completely dropping to the ground, and instantly rose up to press on the creature. He hit the ground with Zidian a few times on both

sides of the monster, scaring it and not letting it use any other route to escape.

Disturbed by the flute’s lethargic melody and blinded by Zidian’s glare, the beast cried again in despair before Jiang Cheng raised his whip one last time, swaying it high in the air for the hit to gain force, and landed it with a crack dead on the center of the beast, cutting both of its heads together with its body into two perfectly even parts. Lan Xichen hurriedly jumped away, hearing how the tree behind him snaped in half, also stricken by the whip.

Still holding Liebing in his hand, and for some reason holding his breath, he glanced at Jiang Cheng. His heart was pounding loudly as he continued looking, enchanted by the sight.

Zidian glared with vivid purple light and crackled, sparks flying all around its owner. Even the fresh nigh air seemed to feel crisp as small flashes of lightening pierced it here and there, making it impossible to even approach Jiang Cheng. With his face austere, chin slightly protruding upwards, and eyes full of resentment and haughtiness towards the fallen opponent, he stood there, amid the dark chilly woods, illuminated by the ghastly glow of his spiritual weapon. His combed hair seemed to be the colour of a ripe dark plum while his face resembled a light and tender thistle, in addition to its paleness remaining unmoved and, thus, making him look more like a ghost than human. Without moving his head, he slowly turned his eyes to Lan Xichen who was breaking a certain rule of his own sect, still staring at him, and pierced him with his scornful glance in return.

After what seemed to Lan Xichen as eternity, but, in reality, turned out to be a mere few seconds, they were approached by a noisy crowd of cultivators, rushing from the camp to the sounds of a battle. Hurrying at the head of the group was Lan Wangji who understood something was wrong hearing the first notes of his brother’s xiao ringing in the distance.

“Brother, have you been hurt?” he asked, examining the destructive aftermath of the whip’s work around them.

“I am completely unharmed, thanks to Sect Leader Jiang,” answered Lan Xichen slowly, taking his time to regain his composure. He added, still looking at Jiang Cheng, “Sect Leader Jiang, I am much obliged for your help.”

Holding Liebing, he locked his hands in front of himself and took a deep bow to Jiang Cheng, staying in this position for a few more seconds than needed.

“Wah, how scary,” whispered Lan Jingyi either to himself or to Lan Sizhui, who, as always, was standing not too far from him. They were afraid to even look at Jiang Cheng at the moment.

Jin Ling only pouted more, throwing furtive looks at the body of the beast he wanted to catch so badly and at his uncle who was at the centre of everybody’s attention. He was proud more than disappointed, but did not want to admit it even to himself.

Fairy happily wagged its tail a few steps behind him.

Jiang Cheng’s whip vanished, and he bowed to Lan Xichen in return.

“Zewu-Jun has nothing to thank me for. The nighthunt was a joint venture, and both of the sides have put in an equal amount of work,” he concluded, straightening himself up.

“Then it is my delight to pronounce this nighthunt successful,” said Lan Xichen for everybody to hear. “Now the Lan sect will take its leave and-”

“We shall all return to Lotus Pier and rest. Let us leave long travels as well as cleaning up the mess for tomorrow, Sect Leader Lan,” said Jiang Cheng in a tone that did not condone any dispute.

“Then we will avail ourselves of your hospitality once again,” yielded Lan Xichen and smiled politely, lowering his gaze.

Wei Wuxian sighed.

“He could have at least been more respectful and not interrupted Zewu-Jun,” he said for only the juniors around him to hear. They happened to be shielding him from Jin Ling’s Fairy who was peacefully minding its own business.

“Mn,” agreed Lan Wangji, and the others actively nodded, as always devotedly supporting the opinion of their seniors.

Everybody having departed in the direction of Lotus Pier, Jin Ling was the last one to leave the scene. First, because he had to drag away Fairy that already started nibbling on one of the beast’s many legs, and, second, because he did not want to walk in depressing silence all the way home. After all, his place was always beside his uncle. He decided to keep his distance and lagged behind on purpose, but no matter how hard he tried, there was still another person that just would not leave.

Wei Wuxian leaned against a tree a few meters away from him and toyed with Chenqing in his hand.

“Are you still angry at him, Rulan?” he asked quietly.

Jin Ling hmphed, hearing his courtesy name being used.

“Don’t be. You know how stupid your uncle is sometimes, and he’s generally not very good with words. Don’t learn from the worst, learn from the best,” he grinned and pushed himself up from the tree. “And call me your martial uncle, that way he will not find fault with you. Now, send your dog away, and let’s go.”

Jin Ling stood, not granting Wei Wuxian his request, and waited.

“A-Ling, don’t be like that!” shouted his martial uncle and stamped his foot onto the damp grass.

Jin Ling smiled mischievously and slapped Fairy’s butt a few times.

“Go, find uncle Jiang. Follow him all the time until he gives you food,” he murmured to it, and the dog sprinted off, obeying its master’s command.

The dog having increased the distance between them significantly, Wei Wuxian came to Jin Ling and pulled him with one arm around his neck right into his bear hug.

“Now that is my shizhi! I will treat you with my favourite pie when we return.”

“For this,” grumbled Jin Ling, struggling in his grip, “you will have to make it at least two, Wei shishu.”

Chapter 3: Unreadable

Down in Lotus Pier all of the guests were let back into the rooms they were residing in the day before the nighthunt and fed richly to commemorate the hunt’s successful outcome. Even though most of the cultivators clearly understood that their contribution to the nighthunt was close to nonexistent, nobody refused the late-night dinner or, as some called it, the early-morning breakfast.

Along with spicy, but, nevertheless, quite delicious food, they were treated with the news that what the leader of the Jiang sect meant by “tomorrow” was, actually, the day after tomorrow. The nighthunt ended almost at dawn, and by the time they arrived at Lotus Pier, the sun had already risen. It was only natural for them to assume that they would take a short rest before setting off for their journey home, but Wei Wuxian was kind enough to explain to them that it was not how they did it here, in Yunmeng. Sect leader’s guests came a long way to participate in the nighthunt and helped the local dwellers by making the roads safe again, so the least he could do was express his gratitude in such a way. It goes without saying that nobody dared to disagree.

Despite his body being tired and mind telling him he was long late according to his sleep schedule, Lan Xichen felt like neither eating nor resting. He looked out of the window of the vast guest residence he was granted. It was already light outside and birds chirped loudly in the crowns of the trees growing in the inner yard. He hanged Shuoyue on his waist and ventured outside to enjoy the beauties of the region he bitterly regretted visiting so rarely.

He strolled down a wooden bridge that stretched over a small pond with countless lotus flowers blooming on its surface, remains of morning dew covering their light-pink petals, and marveled at how different everything here was from misty and brisk Cloud Recess where he and his brother grew up. There it had always been eternally peaceful and predictable, calm and lofty, as not even animals dared to disturb the ever-present air of tranquility. Here he never knew what expected him behind the next corner. The nature of the region and the city of Yunmeng looked almost exotic and breathtaking in their untamedness. It seemed to him that this really was the only place that could bring up such people as Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng. They went through their lives like wild mountain streams, not contemplating, not doubting, acting on their impulses and doing the way they saw fit. Even when looking back or faced with regret, it was not for the foreign eyes, but only for themselves. Never did they let out any word about what they really cared for or were bitter about, instead holding it deep inside of them, carrying it in their proud hearts.

Lan Xichen smiled with the corners of his lips, unwillingly comparing himself and Lan Wangji to the people who called this place home. They were the extremities, two different sides of one coin, but, perhaps, such people really got on best.

“When I see such a smile on Zewu-Jun’s face, I can rest assured that he is pleased with the time spent in Lotus Pier,” said Wei Wuxian confidently and grinned. He was squatting down on the broad steps leading to the clear surface of the pond. Jin Ling was submerging his feet into the lukewarm water beside him.

Lan Xichen approached the skillfully carved railing of the bridge, his hands as always locked behind his back, and smiled again at Wei Wuxian.

“I enjoy it here a lot. Perhaps, even too much. This feeling always makes leaving incredibly difficult,” he replied with a meditative look on his face.

“Then why not stay here for longer? Uncle Jiang will always find a room and some time to spare for Zewu-Jun,” said Jin Ling and quietly yawned, exhausted by the nighthunt’s occurrences and lack of sleep.

“Maybe, someday,” answered Lan Xichen kindly. After a moment of silence, he inquired, “Is Young Master Ling feeling better now?”

Jin Ling nodded and splashed the water in the pond with his dangling foot.

“I know it might look strange for Zewu-Jun, but my uncle…” he inhaled more air, struggling to utter what he had in mind, before continuing, “he is not that bad. At least, not always. I don’t know what got onto him, but it will not apply to the Lan sect in any way.”

Wei Wuxian beamed proudly and dragged Jin Ling closer, squeezing his forearm.

“A-Ling is right. Sect Leader Lan should not worry about Jiang Cheng’s temper influencing his stay at all. He will come around sooner or later. He always does. And if he doesn’t,” he squinted his eyes threateningly, “I am here to help him come to his senses. After all, that’s what family is for.”

Lan Xichen looked down, his face full of understanding and contentment.

“And Wangji is…?” he asked, not really intending to finish the question.

“Sleeping, of course,” waved his hand Wei Wuxian. “He still has half an hour or so left before this creepy habit of his will tell him to rise and shine.”

Having made sure his brother was fine, Lan Xichen had only one more thing that bothered him at the moment, so he directed his thoughtful gaze at Wei Wuxian.

“Young Master Wei, I wanted to ask you…” he started, but lost his confidence mid-sentence. Instead of continuing he looked at Jin Ling, who, having been listening to them only moments ago, was already peacefully snoring on Wei Wuxian’s shoulder, clenching the hilt of Suihua in one hand, and an unfinished pie in the other one.

“Yes, Zewu-Jun? Is there something I can do for you?” urged him Wei Wuxian with enthusiasm.

Lan Xichen shook his head slowly, reserving the question. Maybe for later, maybe for himself.

“If Sect Leader Jiang is awake at the moment, I will pay him a visit. He may be too busy for us to speak during the day,” he said instead.

“He is resting in the pavilion on the other side of the residence, contemplating about his behaviour. At least I hope so. Does Zewu-Jun want me to show him the way?” asked Wei Wuxian. He did not move a single muscle of his body and sat in quite an uncomfortable position with a hunched back, afraid to wake up Jin Ling.

“There is no need. Please, take care of Young Master Jin and have some rest as well, Young Master Wei,” said Lan Xichen and bowed respectfully before departing.

Wei Wuxian watched him leave, awkwardly covering his eyes from the bright morning sun. Jin Ling produced a quiet growl of displeasure, so he hurried to move the hand back where it belonged. He knew it was too early for the question to be voiced. The time would come later.

On his way to the pavilion, Lan Xichen barely encountered any other people. The cultivators of the Yunmeng Jiang sect rarely woke up so early, so it was uncommon for somebody to practice at such an hour. He stumbled across one of his own disciples, who could neither fall asleep nor fully wake up and instead only sat all alone and played on his guqin. It did not take Lan Xichen long to recognize the sounds of his music and determine that it was Lan Sizhui. Not wanting to wake anybody up, he carefully plucked the strings, barely even touching them, but the melody was still as precise and smooth as it had always been when he would be playing in Cloud Recess. Zewu-Jun complimented him and advised to try and meditate if he could not fall asleep, to which Lan Sizhui readily agreed.

The pavilion stood solitary amid the clear waters of the lake, with only one narrow wooden bridge leading to it. Fluttering in the warm wind, ribbons of different hues of purple hung down from the beams while semi-transparent curtains protected the inside from the sunrays. The figure inside was sitting with its back to him, facing the view of the placid lake with only a few small ferries crossing it.

“Sect Leader Lan,” uttered the figure, still looking into the distance.

Lan Xichen entered the pavilion with careful gracious steps, not a single wooden floorboard creaking beneath his feet.

Jiang Cheng turned around and offered him a seat at the opposite side of the table that stood in the middle of the pavilion. Lan Xichen sat down and adjusted his robes, never disregarding his appearance.

“I apologize for bothering the Sect Leader. I do not have any pressing matters, so I shall leave if Sect Leader Jiang is willing to be alone now,” he said despite already having taken a seat.

Jiang Cheng offered him a plate of lotus seeds he had been mindlessly peeling while sitting in the pavilion for some time, the expression on his face milder than the last time the two saw each other.

“Please, be my guest, Zewu-Jun. I do not want to limit you in any way when you are visiting Lotus Pier. You are free to go wherever you like whenever you want,” he said.

Lan Xichen nodded and accepted his offering, taking a few seeds from the small porcelain plate decorated by lotus ornaments.

Hearing quiet breathing coming from below the table, Lan Xichen looked down and saw Jin Ling’s spiritual dog sleeping tight beside Jiang Cheng. It laid its head on one of his feet. He did not seem like he wanted it to move away.

Following Lan Xichen’s gaze, Jiang Cheng smiled with the corners of his lips and rolled his eyes, scratching the dog behind its black floppy ear with his slender pale fingers.

“It followed me all around the place and I could not get rid of it no matter what I did. It has always preferred Jin Ling over me, but today it seems to have set as its goal not leaving me alone for even a second.” His smile faded, and he spoke again. “Sect Leader Lan, I am truly sorry for what you had to see in the forest. My behaviour was inappropriate. I hope it will not diminish the relationships between the Lan sect and the Jiang sect. I also hope you will be able to forget this incident,” he said calmly.

Zewu-Jun looked at him, and their eyes met.

“It is not my task to judge if Sect Leader Jiang’s behaviour was wrong, so, please, do not trouble yourself with such thoughts. We are here to support the Jiang sect, be it on the nighthunt or beyond it. If Sect Leader Jiang wants me to feel comfortable, then my only wish would be for him to settle his relations with his nephew. We never wanted to disturb the peace in Lotus Pier with our arrival.”

“It is only fair for you to ask for that,” agreed Jiang Cheng and petted Fairy’s huge head that was now resting on his knees. The dog was drooling a bit on his neat clothing, but he did not mind.

“In fact, I came to Sect Leader Jiang with a proposal. I humbly ask for him to lend me his ears and see if it might interest him,” said Lan Xichen and laid his right hand atop his left hand on the table before him, not saying a word before Jiang Cheng agreed.

“It will be my honour,” replied Jiang Cheng with a nod.

“I understand that Sect Leader’s way of cultivation and of seeing the world is different from mine, but I cannot help but worry for his well-being,” started Lan Xichen carefully, checking if Jiang Cheng got upset over his words. No negative reaction followed, so he continued. “No matter the cause, Sect Leader Jiang seems to worry a lot lately. I am not here to annoy him with questions, of course, only to offer a helping hand. Even if Sect Leader Jiang is not experiencing any major inconveniences concerned with his accumulated emotional and physical exhaustion at the moment, the consequences of the qi deviation…” he gulped, gasped for air, and forcefully continued a bit louder to stop his voice from shaking, “the consequences might be dire. The last thing I would want to see is another person suffering from it because of my noninterference.”

“And Zewu-Jun’s proposal is…?” asked Jiang Cheng, his eyes opened wide and voice more curious than angry or displeased.

“The song of clarity. I could play it for Sect Leader Jiang once in a certain period of time if the offer does not seem too impudent,” finished Lan Xichen, looking up with tiny sparks of hope twinkling in his amber eyes.

“Could Sect Leader Lan play it on the xiao for me?” asked Jiang Cheng, turning away nonchalantly.

“I tend to play it on guqin, but if Sect Master Jiang prefers the xiao, then I will consider his wish,” replied Lan Xichen, his face lighting up.

“Then so be it. When shall we start?”

“Why not start today?” asked Lan Xichen, gently stroking Liebing.

Jiang Cheng laughed sonorously and leaned back against the wooden pillar behind him.

“Is Zewu-Jun afraid I will reconsider and refuse his offer if given the time? I would not take such a risk after I have already agreed out loud.”

“If Sect Leader Jiang says so, then I dare not have even a sliver of a doubt,” said Lan Xichen softly and took the white jade xiao in his hands, getting ready to play. In a matter of seconds, his weariness after the nighthunt seemed to disappear completely.

With a delicate musical instrument caressed by his fingers, snowy white robes of outmost cleanliness lightly tugged by the breaths of wind, and a cloud patterned ribbon coiling around his forehead and sliding down with the waves of his hair, he looked completely out of place. He eclipsed everything around him, and the surrounding looked duller when juxtaposed to his presence. And so, the gaze of an observer could only be directed at him, as nothing else was able to compete with the sight.

Jiang Cheng sat straight and closed his eyes. It was time for him to meditate.

Chapter 4: Intense

A few months have passed and not a single session of meditation was called off by either of the sides. What Lan Xichen defined as a “certain period of time” at first turned out to be two weeks due to him worrying that he might be too persistent, then gradually dwindled to one week, and finally ended up being only five days. As much as Jiang Cheng tried to persuade him not to come so often, worrying that he had to travel from Gusu to Yunmeng and back each time they arranged for a meditation, Lan Xichen was unshaken, seeing how Jiang Cheng did not really mean what he said. He wasn’t a very good liar and only said it out of courtesy, perhaps, not even trying to sound convincing.

Each time Lan Xichen mounted his sword to go to Lotus Pier, his disciples circled him in the yard and wished him good luck on his way there. They strongly believed their sect leader to be the most righteous and unselfish person to ever exist and were simply lost in admiration to him. Lately he tried to spend more time with them and dedicated every free minute he had to their teaching so that they wouldn’t miss their Huanguang-Jun so much. As Zewu-Jun was known to be an extremely kindhearted and gentle person, it did not take him long to make them cling to him every time he had to depart to play the song of clarity to the leader of the Jiang sect.

As much as Lan Xichen enjoyed staying in Lotus Pier, he still always tried to return as soon as he could, remembering that in his dear Cloud Recess there were these younglings that demanded constant attention and care. He would often hurry back without even giving the sect leader the honour of dining with him.

This time was no different.

He hung Liebing back on his waist, noting with delight that Jiang Cheng seemed much calmer after their regular meetings. He would still roll his eyes in irritation when Jin Ling suddenly barged in with his dog at his feet and a stupid question on his tongue and interrupt their session, but it was just a part of who he was. Notwithstanding, he never let himself repeat the nighthunt incident.

Zewu-Jun wanted to bid farewell and leave so as to get to Gusu before the sunset, but Jiang Cheng called to him, seeing how he had almost fled the main hall already.

“I know that Sect Master Lan is incredibly busy and already makes me a great favour by coming to Lotus Pier so often, but there was one more thing I wanted to ask of him,” he said, still sitting in his lotus throne on the dais.

Zewu-Jun turned around with overt curiosity in his eyes.

“I am anxious to hear what it might be,” he uttered.

“Jin Ling prepared some tea for Zewu-Jun and really wanted him to stay for a little while longer. Between the two of us, this child has never previously tried to do something for others out of his own volition, so I thought this opportunity could not be missed. Is there any chance that Zewu-Jun will find another hour to spend in Lotus Pier before departing? I am afraid, I will not be able to join in, but Jin Ling will surely keep the Sect Leader company.”

“If that pleases Sect Leader Jiang, then I will not refuse it this time,” bowed deeply Lan Xichen.

A sect disciple entered, greeted him politely, and proceeded to lead him to the chambers in which Jin Ling was awaiting their arrival.

The youth already squatted at the table behind a beautifully painted screen. His dog sat at the door as if guarding the room from intruders. It barked playfully when Lan Xichen entered.

“Zewu-Jun,” greeted him Jin Ling, bowing down with the sword in his locked hands. “Please, take a seat here, I will arrange everything. Why isn’t uncle Jiang with Zewu-Jun? Is he going to be late?”

“Sect Leader Jiang is unable to take part in the ceremony, Young Master Jin,” replied Lan Xichen, confused by Jin Ling not knowing about that.

“Wha-?”

Jin Ling stood with a teapot lid in one hand and glanced at Lan Xichen.

“Did he…? How unfair!” he muttered indignantly.

Remembering who sat before him, he pulled himself together and continued brewing the tea, annoyed at his uncle’s behaviour.

While waiting, Lan Xichen looked at a small exquisite object lying on his side of the table.

“Young Master Jin, could it be that this is one of Jiang sect’s clarity bells?” he asked, touching it gingerly.

“Yes, it is! Does Zewu-Jun like it?” asked Jin Ling in return, discarding the first brew and preparing the next one.

The bell looked fragile and sophisticated, with lotus petals of extreme detail carved on its surface. It was similar to the bells worn by Jiang sect disciples, but looked much more intricate and very carefully put together. When shook, it produced a clear sound that was pleasing to the ear, and, as known by many, due to the abundance of spiritual force inside, could easily clear the mind of its owner and help them regain their balance. Strangely enough, this one in particular had light-blue tassel attached to it instead of a purple one usually worn in Yunmeng.

“It may very well be the most beautiful one I have ever seen,” replied Lan Xichen, involuntarily starting twirling the tassel around his finger.

“What a relief! Uncle Jiang was worried Zewu-Jun would not see it fit,” said Jin Ling with enthusiasm and offered Lan Xichen a small cup of clear steaming tea.

Lan Xichen looked at him, his eyes testifying that he absolutely did not understand what Jin Ling was talking about.

Jin Ling mirrored his facial expression, his hand having stopped half the way to the bell on the table.

“Did he not even…? I…” he lowered his eyelids and let out a tired sigh. “I am sorry. Sect Leader Lan, this is a gift from uncle Jiang. He really appreciates your help and feels obliged to express his gratitude in this way. This clarity bell was made specifically for you, so not only does it hold more power than the regular one, but it also is a sign that you are a friend of the Jiang sect and to be respected all around these lands.”

Cursing his uncle for the fact that he was the one who had to say all of this, he took the bell and offered it to Zewu-Jun on the palms of his hands.

Lan Xichen silently took it, the long light-blue tassel so soft to the touch dangling as he held it. He thought that he could not accept such a gift, but Jin Ling was looking at him with eyes so full dignity for the quality of the object entrusted onto him, that he simply could not utter the words of refusal. After all, it was not the youngster’s decision to offer it.

He cupped the bell in his hands and bowed. After he hung it on the belt on his waist beside Liebing, he took the cup with tea that was now acceptable to drink, and made a small sip.

“Was there anything that Young Master Jin wanted to ask me while I am staying in Lotus Pier?” he asked, wanting to show how appreciative he was of the gift. He remembered that Jiang Cheng said something about Jin Ling wanting him to stay, and assumed it was for some particular reason.

Jin Ling’s eyes rounded in astonishment as it sounded as if he once again did not know of something necessary to understand the meaning of the question. Having realized the reason, he clenched his fist under the table, similarly to how his uncle would do it, and forced himself to smile.

“It is good that Zewu-Jun asked. There was this one thing about, eh, hm… about guqin that I do not quite… do not quite comprehend…” he began. His attempt was so feeble that was it not for how Lan Xichen always rejoiced over the younger generation seeking his wisdom, he would definitely understand that something was wrong.

“How interesting! What is it?” he asked, carefully sipping the tea.

“Well, um… so, there are these strings, and…”

Fairy yawned with its mouth open wide and stretched its front legs before lying down. It felt like letting down its guard for once.

Taking such a valuable and thoughtful gift, Lan Xichen, of course, was not able to not give anything in return. Being in Cloud Recess, he meandered around the disciple housings and chambers of the residence for the next day, musing over what he could give as a gift as worthy as the one he had received. His disciples followed him like little ducklings follow their mother, thinking that he had a complicated dilemma on his mind and wanting to be there when he would finally ask them for help.

Since the clarity bell was a very symbolic object for the Jiang sect, the only other thing of similar significance he could think of was the Lan forehead ribbon, but it was not even an option worth mentioning. Some sect members would consider even thinking about this to be unacceptable. Discarding it, he tried to remember what the leader on the Jiang sect liked.

The young disciples noticed the troubled face he tended to have every time he was thinking deeply about something, and exchanged worried glances.

It was certainly dogs, he thought to himself. Dogs and fighting. Also eating traditional Yunmeng dishes. For sure, not having to deal with other cultivators’ clans and being able to stay in Lotus Pier, watching over his sect. What he enjoyed occupying himself with while staying was training, spending time with Jin Ling on the nighthunts, some more trainings, and…

Suddenly, Lan Xichen’s face brightened up. He abruptly stood up from the bench, and his disciples stood up with him. They waited for him to finally say something to them, but all he did was leave them hastily without any explanations.

Lan Jingyi sighed disappointedly and followed the others to the library pavilion. There was nothing else for them to do at this time of the day other than study.

A few days later, Zewu-Jun yet again arrived in Lotus Pier, carrying a light oblong wooden box in his hands. The box looked elegant, but it was difficult to guess what was in it.

He came across Jiang Cheng in the training yard, exactly when he was teaching his disciples the sword stances. They repeated the movements in unison while he corrected every motion that seemed wrong to him.

“You, raise your hand higher! Are you holding your sword or a plough?” he yelled at one of them, hitting with his stiffened hand the shoulders and legs of those who stood too awkwardly or did not follow the guide with enough precision.

His disciples did not whine or cry for him to stop, only thoroughly obeyed his commands as best as they could.

Lan Xichen did not want to interrupt their lesson, but Jiang Cheng had already noticed him arrive.

“Sect Leader Lan,” he said and bowed, “I am sorry to keep you waiting, but I need to finish the training before I can join you in the great hall.”

He threw a quick glance at the bell hanging on Lan Xichen’s waist and hastily turned away so that his guest wouldn’t notice. However, the white box in Zewu-Jun’s hands immediately drew his attention back, and he started examining it with interest.

“It goes without saying, Sect Leader Jiang,” replied Zewu-Jun.

Jiang Cheng was not able to hide the curiosity in his eyes, so Lan Xichen spoke again before he got the chance to ask anything.

“This is just a little something I brought for Sect Leader Jiang,” he said and smiled, his eyes adopting the shape of crescents.

Jiang Cheng gulped and nodded. It was so obvious that he wanted to immediately find out what it was, but since he asked nothing, Lan Xichen just proceeded to the great hall, not to disturb the training with his presence. He expected having to wait for at least half an hour, but Jiang Cheng joined him about five minutes later.

“I sincerely hope the training is over not because of me arriving so early today,” remorsefully commented Lan Xichen, sitting at one of the tables in the hall.

“Absolutely not. We were… already finishing anyway,” murmured Jiang Cheng and halted a few steps into the room as if musing about something. He then took a seat on his throne, unable to hide his excitement.

Zewu-Jun stood up and approached the dais. He held up the box in his hands and bowed his head ever so slightly, presenting his gift to Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng hesitated before extremely carefully opening the lid. Inside on a soft white pillow laid a long xiao made of lavender jasper. It looked unusual due to the colour of the stone being uneven and at places pierced by white and yellowish veins.

Confused, he did not find anything he could say to such a gift, and only took the xiao out of the box with his slightly trembling fingers, for some reason being infinitely scared to drop it on the floor. It looked like it would instantly break to pieces from taking such a fall.

“I was reflecting a lot upon the gift I could give to Sect Leader Jiang, and having remembered all of the sessions we have conducted so far, I realized that the best gift I could give to him was this,” said Lan Xichen proudly.

It was true that he had put much thought into the gift he decided give to the leader of the Jiang sect. After carefully considering all of the possibilities, he arrived at the conclusion that xaio was indeed the most meaningful and symbolic of all of them, as he intended it to become his display of trust, sincerity, and care. Despite the instrument being so similar to his own, it actually was only recently created by skillful masters specifically for this occasion. The material, the carvings, and even the shape was chosen by Lan Xichen personally with him taking into account peculiar personality and likes of its future owner.

Jiang Cheng smiled awkwardly and inspected the instrument in his hands.

“Now that I can learn to play myself, I will not have to bother Sect Leader Lan and ask him to come to the sessions…” he mumbled unconfidently.

“That is certainly a possibility,” replied Lan Xichen, still smiling, “but the song of clarity is infamous for its difficulty, so I wouldn’t expect that to happen in the nearest future. If the Sect Leader is willing, I could try and teach him to play something, be the moment suitable.”

“If I am willing?” asked Jiang Cheng and raised his eyes from the xiao. “I thought, Zewu-Jun gave me this gift so that I could learn how to play and…” he finished uncertainly, not knowing what was it exactly that he wanted to say.

“I only thought Sect Leader Jiang enjoyed these meetings, and wanted to give him something that would remind him of them. It also seems like Sect Leader Jiang finds pleasure in listening to the sound of xiao, so I would be eager to teach him if he decided that he wanted to play on his own someday,” said Lan Xichen, a little upset by Jiang Cheng’s rection.

Jiang Cheng positioned the xiao as if he wanted to try and blow in it, but then decided not to. He noted that it was quite nice to the touch, the stone being smooth and cool. He put it back into the box and took the box from Lan Xichen’s hands, bowing deeply.

“Thank you, Sect Leader Lan, I will treasure it. I don’t think I am ready to learn yet, but, please, know that I view this as a very thoughtful and useful present.”

“Does… Sect Leader Jiang really like it?” asked Zewu-Jun, unconsciously tugging on the bell on his waist, unconvinced by his words.

“Its beauty is unparalleled and it is remarkably strong as a spiritual weapon. Much to my displeasure, it would simply be disrespectful towards such an instrument if I used it before giving it a proper name,” answered Jiang Cheng and smiled, this time more sincerely. There was kindness in his eyes, so it seemed like he did not make up what he was saying anymore.

Lan Xichen sighed with relief. When it came to Jiang Cheng, one could never be sure of what his reaction would be to anything he was presented with, at least if it was not puppies he was gifted.

“Shall we begin the session then?” he asked.

“It is high time,” replied Jiang Cheng. He went back to his throne and sat down, putting the box close to him.

As their meetings passed, they gifted each other a few more other things, though, less significant than the clarity bell and the xiao.

Chapter 5: Charming

Lan Xichen knew that he might not get another opportunity like this in a very long time. It was quite a lucky coincidence that Wei Wuxian just happened to be visiting Lotus Pier again when he himself felt like he could not keep the unanswered questions in him any longer.

“Young Master Wei, may I take a few minutes of your time?” he asked, running into him near the same pond they spoke at a few months back.

“Of course, Zewu-Jun. I am all ears,” answered Wei Wuxian and curiously peeked at Lan Xichen’s worried face.

“I wanted to speak to you about… Sect Leader Jiang. If you have nothing against it.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Zewu-Jun, but doesn’t one of the Lan sect core rules prohibit discussing others behind their backs?” asked Wei Wuxian mockingly.

Lan Xichen barely ever felt like the rules of his sect were unfair or obliging them hindered him in any way, but it was really starting to become a much bigger problem when the outsiders knew of them as well.

“It looks like I have been exposed,” he said and let out a nervous laugh. “But if you know me well, Young Master Wei, you realize that I would not have asked, had it not been something of utmost importance.”

“That is true,” agreed Wei Wuxian. “I will answer your question with all honesty and I promise not to tell anyone of your secret,” he said and jokingly raised three fingers as if taking an oath.

“Very well. Did something happen to Sect Leader…” Lan Xichen stopped mid-sentence and shook his head – no, that was not it. “Did I do anything to Sect Leader Jiang?” he tried again. “Did I say something insulting? Was it that he considered some of my actions unacceptable for some reason?”

Wei Wuxian frowned in an exaggerated manner and put a finger to his lips.

“I cannot think of anything Zewu-Jun could possibly do to offend Jiang Cheng, only the other way around. What makes Zewu-Jun think something like that has ever happened?”

Lan Xichen sighed. There was no other possibility for him to get the answer he so desperately needed other than sharing his observations. It was incredibly hard for him to partake in a conversation of this sort, but he managed to persuade himself that he was doing it for the greater good.

“I noticed how Sect Leader Jiang was looking at me. It might be nothing and I might worry for no reason, but I felt like he was deeply insulted by my mere presence. He just looked so enraged and unhappy. It happened a few times, and each time I felt the same resentment coming from him. Unfortunately, I cannot arrive at any conclusion as to what makes him behave like this without any help from the outside.”

“So, Sect Leader Lan is telling me that Jiang Cheng has been staring at him constantly, looking like he is on the edge of bursting?” concluded briefly Wei Ying.

Lan Xichen did not answer as this paraphrasing of what he had said seemed too crude to agree to.

“Well,” blurted Wie Wuxian, not really needing any answer at all, and stuffed his mouth with a bunch of lotus seeds before continuing, “then he must have fancied you.”

“I beg your pardon?” asked Lan Xichen dumbfoundedly. Wei Wuxian found it incredibly amusing and thought that never before had he seen the leader of the Gusu Lan sect having such an odd expression on his face.

“I said that he had taken a liking to Zewu-Jun,” he explained, taking pity on his interlocutor. “But he is probably so undecisive in his attraction that he just struggles with it all the time, and it is reflected in his appearance.”

“But…” stumbled Lan Xichen, failing to finish his utterance.

“He has always been like that as a child – too proud to go the easy way. Always pretends not to care for something he wants for himself so that others would not notice his weakness. Some people just prefer to suffer, I guess. Although, I must admit, never before have I seen him this agitated about something.”

“But…” ventured Lan Xichen again, but still wasn’t able to find any suitable words.

“But what do I know?” laughed suddenly Wei Wuxian. “I haven’t been beside him for so many years, it’s not like he couldn’t have changed during this time, right?”

Lan Xichen did not know if he was to protest or quietly sigh at such a remark.

“Please, Sect Leader Lan, disregard what I said if it makes you feel better. In any case, there is no person that can give you the right answer apart from Jiang Cheng himself, so if he is not talking… You can always make him,” said Wei Wuxian instructively and grinned.

Lan Xichen stood silently and kept looking at Wei Wuxian who was still nonchalantly stuffing his mouth with peeled lotus seeds. He had heard his every word but still somehow felt as if nothing made sense to him. He was confused, but very quickly his confusion started to evolve into something else, something restless and almost raging. All this time he was worried sick that he somehow offended Jiang Cheng, that he was careless enough to say or do something unforgivable, something that made this person hate him so much that it was difficult for Jiang Cheng to be in the same room with him. He would certainly have called this situation ridiculous, had he not spent so many hours contemplating on his own attitude and behaviour because of all this.

“Just give it a try,” said Wei Ying, tired of Lan Xichen standing there, unable to utter a word to him, and pointed to the entrance to the great hall. “He’s in his quarters now, reading one of the books Sect Leader Lan gave him.”

Lan Xichen thought that he would try. There was no point in beating around the bush anymore. After all, he wasn’t sure if he should believe Wei Wuxian. On the one hand, he would gain absolutely nothing by lying about this, on the other hand though, he could still not be trusted so easily. The only natural solution to this problem was speaking to Jiang Cheng, and Lan Xichen already regretted not having done it earlier. Maybe, it would’ve made his life much, much easier.

Not stopping for any distractions on his way, he rushed inside to find Jiang Cheng and finally clarify the relationships between them. He was in such a hurry that he even forgot to thank Wei Wuxian for his help which was something the latter one never expected would happen.

His heart skipped a beat when he finally came across Jiang Cheng’s figure resting with a book in his hand in his private chambers. He took a few deep breaths, seemingly being able to calm down considerably, and entered without even a knock or a cough.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” he thundered, startling Jiang Cheng, “I came here to talk. I hope you will be able to spare me a minute of your time as I consider the topic I want to discuss to be of great significance.”

Jiang Cheng threw a puzzled glance at him, but still closed his book and carefully put it away. He would’ve agreed to whatever Zewu-Jun wanted to do anyway, but seeing him so agitated really convinced him it was a matter that was not to be taken lightly.

“Of course. Whatever it is that Sect Leader Lan wanted to discuss, I will be glad to provide my assistance and insight,” he replied and motioned for Lan Xichen to sit down with him, but Xichen couldn’t be less bothered by that, so he remained standing.

“It is about the feelings of a certain person present in the room. Lately I’ve been experiencing… difficulties understanding them, so I decided to come and ask directly. Please, tell me, Sect Leader Jiang, what do you think of me? I cannot help but become frustrated with your behaviour and… find myself cornered. Is there, perhaps, something you would like to tell me? Something, that would make it all clear to me? I just find continuing like this… really hard.”

Immediately after saying that Lan Xichen felt easier already. Even though he did not yet get any explanation whatsoever, venting about the feeling of frustration that accompanied him for quite some time now made his head clearer and his heart lighter. Now he only needed to hear what Jiang Cheng had to tell him, and everything would fall back on its places, everything would be easy and definite for him, just the way it should be.

Jiang Cheng’s shoulders suddenly curved forward. With a brooding expression overtaking his face, he fixed his eyes at the book on the table and thought that it was all over for him. Nothing would be the same anymore, no matter how hard he tried.

“I am sorry, Sect Leader Lan…” he began, and Lan Xichen already got his hopes up only for them to be shattered by his next words. “I really have nothing to say. It pains to hear me that you felt this way for some reason, but I have nothing to share with you. Now, if you don’t mind…”

All the lightness disappeared from Lan Xichen’s chest. The energy that was flowing out of him suddenly got tied in a tight knot, and he thought that it really was unbearable. Dealing with such a person, constantly guessing what was on their mind, trying to piece together what they told you and what they displayed on their face… One had to be in possession of a constant supply of patience and understanding to be able to put up with it. He realized that he probably wasn’t the one capable of that.

“Jiang Wanyin! Do you think I will not know what you have on your mind if you do not speak up?” he thundered, looking Jiang Cheng straight in the eyes. There was no other way for him to proceed, at least he saw none at the moment when he decided to raise his voice.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes rounded at first, but then screwed as he smiled almost mischievously. He almost felt like letting out a grin despite the situation he was in seemingly being quite serious.

Lan Xichen immediately regretted asserting himself and tried to retreat. Under Jiang Cheng’s mocking glance, he did not know where to hide, and the tips of his ears reddened a bit from embarrassment for how he behaved. Hearing his own voice being so loud and forceful when addressing somebody who probably also struggled with their thoughts and feelings for some time, he immediately became upset and realized that he shouldn’t have poured everything that he had on his mind with little to no consideration about the effect it would produce.

“I… I did not mean to say it like that, Sandu Sengshou. Please, forgive me,” he muttered and pinched his lips.

Jiang Cheng produced a few harsh laughs and tilted his head to the side, derisive attitude not disappearing from his posture. It was surprising how fast he could go from upset to self-righteous with almost no effort.

“Oh, please, Sect Leader Lan, do not ruin my impression of you with apologies. Seeing this side of you is not something many can brag about. How can I even be mad?” he asked in a frivolous way. He thought many times about how this conversation would go, and he had no doubts that it would take place someday, but not even once did he imagine such an involved reaction from Lan Xichen’s side. Everything was not happening as he had expected and it made him feel excitement mixed with a pinch of fright in regards to what could follow next.

The blush from Lan Xichen’s ears slowly crawled to his face. For a person like him it was a completely disaster, losing control over himself in such a manner.

“Nevertheless, I am truly sorry for using your courtesy name so carelessly when I did not have the right to do it. For us to be even, the only thing I can do is tell you mine, so that you could also-”

“Lan Huan,” said Jiang Cheng hoarsely, purposefully interrupting Lan Xichen and thoroughly articulating every syllable. “Here you go,” he added, delighted at Lan Xichen’s confused face. “I also said it, now Zewu-Jun does not have to worry about being disrespectful.”

After the man before him called him by his courtesy name, hearing “Zewu-Jun” again felt strange to Lan Xichen. Realizing that, he said, almost whispering, “It sounded good.” Everything started to make sense for him suddenly. It turned out that this whole time Jiang Cheng was not the only one perplexed and unable to express what he was feeling.

A smug smile slowly faded from Jiang Cheng’s face. Light pink covered his cheeks, and he sat there, completely lost.

“What?” he finally managed to mumble, frowning to hide his own daze now.

“You calling my name,” said Lan Xichen quietly, beginning to understand. It was probably still a long road for them to go, but with him now having a vague idea of what he wanted to hear and what he wanted to say in return, it would undoubtedly become an easier journey for both of them.

“Lan… Huan?” ventured Jiang Cheng again, this time not confident at all.

“Yes?”

“I thought, maybe we could… practice playing the xiao together?” asked Jiang Cheng carefully. The instrument gifted to him by Lan Xichen was lying in its box on a special display in his chambers.

If it was how he tried to escape the topic, thought Lan Xichen, then it was quite an entertaining attempt. Not that there was even the slightest chance it would work, though, no. He just found it somehow sweet, and so decided to play along, not to rob his interlocutor of his temporary safe harbour.

“Have you already given a name to it?” he asked with sincere interest in his voice.

“I have not. But I also thought… if I continue to do everything the same way I did, nothing will ever change for me,” said Jiang Cheng, and Lan Xichen immediately realized that there had to be more to his words. He also realized he had been standing this whole time, so he hurried to sit down and stop trying to intimidate Jaing Cheng with his erect posture.

“And you want something to change?” he asked gingerly.

��I think so.”

Lan Xichen almost wanted to go ahead and ask what exactly Jiang Cheng had on his mind, but it took him too long to gain the courage for it, so Jiang Cheng spoke again.

“Will you help me find a suitable name for the xiao?” he asked in such a voice as though it was something he had been wanting to ask for a very long time.

“What makes you think I am the right person to ask?”

Jiang Cheng threw a quick unreadable glance at him before shaking his head and turning away.

“…It is nothing, I will do it myself.”

“I do not refuse!” said Lan Xichen, perhaps, more eagerly than he would want to admit. “I am just… curious.”

“I cannot say it,” answered Jiang Cheng, still carefully examining the wall.

“Why?”

Lan Xichen felt his heart pounding like never before. He was afraid to admit that he hoped for some specific outcome of this conversation. The atmosphere became so peculiar and tense that he simply did not know how to calm himself down anymore.

“It might change everything for me,” said Jiang Cheng quietly.

“Didn’t you say you wanted something to change, Jiang Wanyin?” asked Lan Xichen. For some reason, he couldn’t stop himself from being persistent in his inquiries.

Jiang Cheng sighed uneasily and frowned again as if overcoming some internal struggles.

“Why is it that you have to suddenly be so pushy today?” he asked, trying to avoid giving any direct answer again.

“I thought you liked it when I was like this,” said Lan Xichen, feeling the wave of heat hitting his cheeks. It was a new feeling to him, wanting to say something like that despite his mind doing its best to prevent him from doing that.

“Mn,” only let out Jiang Cheng.

“Will you answer me?”

“No,” said Jiang Cheng, shaking his head. He stood up and turned away. He felt like his face was burning. He could neither stop this conversation nor suffer through it, so made a decision to go for the door in a very foolish and desperate attempt to escape the room and flee to the corridor which was flooded with people among whom he would feel safe again.

“Why is it that you suddenly turn out to be such a coward?” asked Lan Xichen with a tone of minor annoyance in his voice and grabbed Jiang Cheng by his wrist, reaching out over the table.

Jaing Cheng clenched his fists and stopped.

“I am many things, but I am not a coward,” he said resolutely.

Lan Xichen took away his hand, fearing he had already overdone it and wounded Jiang Cheng’s pride. During those few seconds he held his wrist, he felt a quickened pulse, as quick as his own, beating under tense skin.

“Why don’t you face me when we are conversing?” he asked, trying to make Jaing Cheng stay and bring it all to a least some sort of conclusion.

“I thought the talk was already over,” uttered Jiang Cheng, but still did what Zewu-Jun wanted him to.

“Do you remember what I told you earlier?” asked Lan Xichen.

“That it pleases you when I call you by your name?” asked Jiang Cheng in return. He had to force himself to say that, of course, but he simply could not remain the only one cornered because he had to listen to something that was so embarrassing for him.

“N-no, not that,” stumbled Lan Xichen and sighed, covering his forehead and eyes with his hand. “I said that even if you didn’t say what was on your mind aloud, I would still know.”

Jiang Cheng had a vague idea of where that knowledge could come from, but decided not to voice his suppositions. It was no use bringing it up now, he would still not escape the problematic topic and only enrage himself.

“If you already know, then what else do you expect me to say? Maybe, you just also find making fun of me amusing?”

“You might have noticed that I am not laughing. And I would not call your behaviour amusing at all,” answered Lan Xichen with a truly straight face.

“Then what would you call it?”

“Charming.”

As abruptly as it came, all the arrogance disappeared from Jiang Cheng’s demeanor and he silently gasped, not knowing how to react or where to hide from Lan Xichen’s gaze. He would give everything to be in his yard, training his disciples, or in the forest, stalking a prey with his nephew. He would take anything, but not this.

“I… I do not know what we are talking about anymore,” he honestly admitted. He was perplexed at how they arrived here, trying to remember how such a conversation could have started.

Lan Xichen unfastened the clarity bell from his waist and displayed it on the palm of his hand on the table for Jiang Cheng to see.

“We are talking about your feelings,” he said more calmly. He realized he had to take the situation into his own hands or else they would never be able to resolve what they both got into. “If you really have nothing to say to me right now, then you can take this bell back.”

“And then what?” asked Jiang Cheng, expecting the worst.

“Nothing, I will just give it back to you. That is all.”

“But it was my gift to you,” muttered Jiang Cheng and Lan Zewu-Jun noticed how hurt he sounded.

“How should I know? You did not give it to me,” he shrugged his shoulders.

“But I… ugh.”

Jiang Cheng gritted his teeth. He could not say that he left the bell there for him and intentionally did not come, hoping that Jin Ling would do all the talking for him. There was really no way out for him anymore.

“It was me who carved it. A certain person once taught me how to do it, so I… I carved it for you. That is why I want you to keep it,” he finally admitted, realizing how funny and unnatural being so honest with someone felt.

“Thank you. For the bell, and for telling me,” said Lan Xichen and bowed slightly. He attached the bell back where it belonged with a look of contentment as if he did not want anything else.

“That is all?” asked Jiang Cheng. He unwillingly expected that he would have to say… more than that.

“All that I needed to hear,” nodded Lan Xichen.

He reached to the back of his head, where his forehead ribbon entwined with his hair, and untied it, letting it slide.

Jiang Cheng shook his head in disbelief and slowly backed away from the table. Before, it was all just talking, but now he knew how serious it was. He was absolutely not ready to bear the burden of such a responsibility.

“No, I cannot… I cannot…” he mumbled.

“What?” asked Lan Xichen as if completely oblivious to what was happening.

“I cannot… touch it.”

Lan Xichen smiled amiably and laid the ribbon on the table between them. Seeing him exclusively with his forehead ribbon on, Jiang Cheng felt almost uncomfortable looking at him without it, as if it was something too personal, like watching a person bathing. There was no drastic change in his appearance, of course, but something about him still seemed different.

“I made you feel vulnerable, and now I understand that. This is my way of showing you that I realize that and am willing to endure it with you. But it doesn’t mean I am going to let you touch the ribbon,” explained Zewu-Jun.

Jiang Cheng felt his body relax. He suddenly felt very light, but also very empty, as if something abandoned his chest without him agreeing to it. He quietly exhaled.

“I see,” he only uttered in return.

“…As that you will have to earn first,” added Lan Xichen. He tried hard to stay serious, but his lips involuntarily curved into a smile.

Jiang Cheng opened his mouth, but could not say anything. A peculiar mixture of emotion displayed on his face as he was trying hard to figure out if it was him understanding the occurrences correctly or just his wishful thinking tricking him into believing that.

He rose up from the floor yet again, his chest heaving. His eyes were staring intently at Lan Xichen and his top lip twitched a few times. Lan Xichen felt that it was almost the same look that haunted him previously, threatening, aggressive, unpredictable. But it wasn’t scary at all. Charming was still what he thought of it.

Jiang Cheng bent down with determination in his every movement, grabbed Lan Xichen by the lapels of his robes and leaned in for a kiss. He could not tolerate that smile on his face and that confidence in his words. He still felt like he was teased and ridiculed, and so he grabbed the lapels tighter, almost pulling Lan Xichen up from his seat. Their teeth clanked a couple of times because of Jiang Cheng’s vigour, but he did not even care. His only concern was the emotions that he was not able to get rid of for so long, so he clung to Zewu-Jun as if it was the last time he saw him.

When the latter one managed to steady his position in Jiang Cheng’s grip, he slowly stood up, trying to use the fact that he was a bit taller than the leader of the Jiang sect as an advantage, even though the table between them remained quite an obstacle.

He finally made up his mind and touched the side of Jiang Cheng’s pale face with his fingers. He caressed it lightly and moved his hand further, passing the ear and the braid that was neatly stuck into the bun on the back of his head. He touched the ink-black hair airily a few times, as if afraid to ruin the perfect hair-do. His heart was loudly pounding in his ears. He put his other hand on Jiang Cheng’s waist and slowly pulled him closer.

Feeling the grip on his side, Jiang Cheng sprung away from Lan Xichen as if electrocuted. He adjusted his clothes nervously and laid his hand on the side of the neck, avoiding direct eye contact.

“You…”

“My hand slipped. I am sorry,” muttered Zewu-Jun, a bit disappointed that everything ended as suddenly as it had begun. Sorry was the last thing that he was now.

Jiang Cheng pouted either at what had happened or at how shamelessly Lan Xichen tried to lie to him.

“Isn’t Sect Leader Lan late to Cloud Recess?” he asked with indignation in his voice. “I am sure the Gusu Lan disciples are already waiting ardently for his return.

Lan Xichen closed the distance between them in a few swift steps. There was no table to separate them anymore, and he found himself not even caring if somebody walked in on them right now as he slid both of his hands on Jiang Cheng’s waist, drawing him closer.

“Right now, I have some more pressing matters to attend to. I am sure they will understand,” he whispered and leaned for another kiss.

#Mo Dao Zu Shi #Grandmaster of Demonic cultivation #fiction #fanfiction #Jiang Cheng #Lan Xichen #jiang cheng x lan xichen #romance #comfort #fluff #Wei Wuxian #Lan Wangji #Jin Ling #untamed #untamed fanfiction

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