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l3m0ncyan · 2 years ago

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New at Life | Chapter 3

Steven Grant/Marc Spector x latina!teen!reader

Took me long cause I was trying to figure out how to start it

Masterlist

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Y/N's first week at the museum's gift shop was busy and overwhelming. Since she was the new employee, she had to take on most of the tasks while other employees slacked off or were absent. Plus she wanted didn’t want to embarrass Steven, especially with the way he elevitated her.

Her tasks included restocking shelves, organizing the mess left by customers, and wiping down the front desk, for some reason. After she’d finish, she would try to sit down to relieve her aching body but would be stopped once Donna came back with a new list of instructions. And of course, Y/N would be up on her feet before Donna could finish her sentence.

As the days went on and Y/N's energy drained, Steven grew concerned for her. It was her first job, and she was being worked relentlessly. He attempted to help with some tasks, but she insisted on doing everything herself, leaving him to watch as she hurried around the gift shop.

One day, Donna handed Y/N a sticker gun and told her to mark all the snow globes on clearance. Once she was done, she had to stack them on a designated shelf. Y/N immediately nodded and started applying the stickers, not minding that it was July and nowhere near December.

Seeing Y/N's relentless pace, Steven approached her and joked, “You don’t have to push yourself so hard, don’t want you to combust,”. However, Y/N was too focused to notice. Eventually, she finished marking all the snow globes, feeling relieved. But then she realized she still had to put them on the shelf, which made her groan in frustration.

Steven offered to help, saying it would be faster. This time, Y/N welcomed his assistance. As they both worked to put the snow globes on the shelf, Steven broke the silence, “Anything on your mind?”.

Y/N had a lot on her mind. She was stressed, tired, and on the verge of tears. Steven's worried expression reminded her of her siblings telling her to take a break after a study session, which only made her feel more homesick. She didn't want to break down and prove her parents right about her.

She was considered an adult now, and adults shouldn’t cry to people, especially to their own neighbors who they’ve only met for about a week.

But instead of sharing her true feelings, she simply replied, "I'm fine, thanks for the help, by the way." She grabbed the empty box and went to the register to assist a waiting customer.

After they left, Steven approached her again, “Alright, just take things at your own pace, you don’t have to prove Donna anything,”.

He took a box that he was tasked to take to the stock room and went on his way. Y/N was left with the flood of customers coming in, and Donna passing by to boss her around more.

After two hours, her body felt so tense that it might be considered sculpture in the museum. With her brain constantly firing actions and thoughts, her body felt like it was on autopilot. Luckily, it was finally time for Y/N and Steven's lunch break, granting them 30 minutes of rest, which was much needed, especially for Y/N.

—— Y/N eagerly waited for her granola bar to drop from the vending machine, watching as it descended into the slot. She grabbed a chair, leaned back, and heard her bones crack. Getting back up, she took a sip of water and a bite of her granola. She twisted her feet and neck to find some relief when Steven joined her at the table, holding his lunch.

"I did tell you to slow down," he said, sounding like he was giving her a lecture.

Y/N let out a tired sigh and replied, "I know, but I got things done fast though, didn’t I?”

Steven nodded and began eating his sandwich. Y/N finished her granola bar quickly but was still hungry and didn't have any change for another snack. She regretted not packing her own lunch.

Noticing her playing with the water bottle, Steven looked down and offered her half of his sandwich, “I’m sure that protein bar and water won’t fill you,”.

Y/N looked at his offer and shook her head, “I can’t that’s your lunch,”

“I will be fine, you however won’t and you still have a long way before the end of the day.” he insisted.

She hesitated but eventually accepted the sandwich, thanking him quietly before taking a bite. It was delicious, maybe it was her growling stomach talking or maybe Steven was an amazing sandwich maker, but she didn’t care.

Once she finished, she looked up to see Steven's surprised expression. He didn’t expect her to be so hungry, but he smiled nonetheless. Y/N wiped her mouth and felt a tinge of embarrassment.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to down all that in just seconds,” she said.

Steven waved it off, “It wasn’t that, it just looks like you haven’t eaten.”

Y/N looked away, knowing he was about to worry him, “Well I was kinda in a rush this morning, so I didn’t have a chance to eat breakfast,”

Steven's eyes widened in shock. She was working herself to death with her body running with no food. “How are you still standing?” he said rather loudly, “You have to put yourself first, a job won’t be as important as your wellbeing,”

Y/N shrank in her seat, feeling like she was being lectured by a parent. He went on about the importance of eating breakfast, even bringing up an Egyptian story. She learned in the past few days about his love with Egyptian facts and stories. It was probably why he didn’t try to resign.

"I'll give you my phone number in case you forget to eat or need someone to pack your lunch," he offered, pulling out his phone. He realized he should have given her his number earlier.

Comparing their phones, it was clear who was the younger one. Steven had a simple gray flip phone, while Y/N had a touchscreen phone adorned with stickers of her favorite shows and movies. After exchanging numbers, Y/N saved Steven's contact as "Neighbor Steven."

"It was nice negotiating with you," Y/N quipped before putting her phone away. Steven looked at her with a mix of confusion and amusement. With only ten minutes left of their break, Y/N excused herself to use the restroom.

After coming out of the stall, she walked to the sink, washed and dried her hands, and looked at herself in the mirror. Steven had been right—she looked like she had only slept for an hour. As she attempted to fix her hair, she noticed the lights above flickering and heard a buzzing sound. It reminded her of the elevator lights. Maybe there was an electrical issue in London. She shrugged it off, not wanting to dwell on it.

She walked out of the restroom and headed to the gift shop where Steven was was already starting on his assignments. “You freshened up?” He asked, as he took out blue hippo plushies from a box. She nodded and only promised that she won’t overwork herself.

———— Nearly a month had passed, leaving only a few days until the end of July. During this time, Steven and Y/N have gotten closer to where everyone at the museum were convinced that they were actually cousins. Really it felt like they were siblings.

As a result, Y/N often acted like a younger sister to Steven.

Steven was peacefully asleep when his phone rang, causing him to jolt awake. He reached for his phone on the nightstand and checked the caller ID, unsurprisingly finding it was Y/N.

"Why are you calling so early?" he groggily asked, his voice tired. However, he was immediately met with Y/N's loud voice on the other end of the line, which instantly woke him up.

"It's about time you answered! Are you ready?" she exclaimed.

Confused, Steven furrowed his brow and asked, "Wait, what time is—"

Before he could finish his sentence, he heard Spanish cursing coming from the other end of the line. "Ay chingado, Steven, did you just wake up?" Y/N questioned.

Taking Stevens silence as a yes, she continued, “Dude, we’re going be late for work!”.

Wide-eyed, Steven checked the time and realized they had only ten minutes before the bus departed. Realizing he missed his alarm, he quickly got up, but his ankle was held back by the chain still attached to his ankle cuff. Sighing, he worked his way out of the cuff and got ready. He tended to his goldfish before heading out of his apartment to meet Y/N, who stood there with her arms crossed.

“About time you came out! Let's go!" she urged.

They stepped into the elevator, and Y/N leaned back against the wall as the doors closed. "Good thing I called you. Was your alarm clock broken or something?" she asked.

Steven shrugged, “I’m not sure. That usually doesn’t happen,”

“Yeah, guess I’ll have to record my voice as your new alarm,” she teased.

"Please, no," he chuckled in response.

When they reached the ground floor, they quickly exited the apartment building and made their way to the bus stop. They arrived just in time to catch the bus before the doors closed, but it was already packed, leaving them standing amidst a crowd of people. Standing on a crowded bus had become a common occurrence for them.

Y/N and Steven managed to make it to the museum entrance just in time, weaving through the crowd. Y/N glanced at Steven, asking if their dear boss will be a ‘female dog’ for todays shift. Despite trying to get used to Donna’s personality, she found it hard to like her. The more she had to deal with her, the more reasons she found to dislike her. . Inside the museum, they joined the bustling crowd. Seeing a little girl stuffing a candy wrapper into a pyramid model, Steven told Y/N to go on without him. She nodded and watched as Steven approached the girl.

Steven seemed to enjoy sharing ancient Egyptian facts with others, especially children. Y/N couldn’t help but think of how he would a great teacher if he wasn’t stuck playing gift shopist. He didn't seem like the type to play favorites or get angry at someone for not understanding something.

Y/N made her way to the locker room to store her bag and lunch. Her coworkers greeted her with a "good morning" or simply ignored her, which was fine by her. Returning to the gift shop, she logged into the register and tidied up any items that had been knocked over. Then she went to the rope barrier and unclasped it, allowing visitors to enter.

Although she still worked hard, Y/N stopped going the extra mile like she did during her first week. The main reason was because she would end up exhausted by the end of the day. Steven had even lectured her about taking care of her health, scaring her a bit with his intensity. She knew he meant well, but he could be terrifying at times.

Fortunately, Y/N had gotten used to the museum layout, making it easier for her to find and finish tasks in different places. Most of her shifts were with Steven, as Donna still believed they were cousins. Not out of empathy, but because Donna needed someone to blame if Y/N made a mistake. Which was nearly difficult to do since Y/N was very aware of her actions and surroundings to make any clumsy mistakes.

As Y/N restocked a shelf, she overheard Steven and Donna approaching. Donna was scolding Steven, as usual, about not being a tour guide.

"Don't know how many times I have to tell you this. You're not the bloody tour guide, Stevie," Donna chastised him while he put on his name tag.

"Steven, actually. I am Steven," he corrected her, tapping his name tag. It seemed like Donna never cared enough to remember his name correctly.

After Donna finished berating him, she assigned him a task and walked away. Y/N couldn't help but glare at Donna's retreating figure and muttered, "Guess she didn't make it to third base with her date last night." She expected a smile or a chuckle from Steven, but he looked tired and defeated, most likely from being unheard by the managers.

Y/N pouted and sighed, trying to lift his spirits. "Hey, don't listen to her. Honestly, I think you'd make a better tour guide than those show-offs," she gestured towards the other tour guides who were already busy with their duties. Her words seemed to brighten Steven's mood slightly. His eyes lit up, and he straightened his posture, offering her a grateful smile.

"I've told them many times before, but they just ignore it," he said, frustration in his voice.

“You just gotta keep trying,” she offers a smile which Steven returns. As if on cue, one of the tour guides walk up to them. Looking towards Steven.

"You just gotta keep trying," Y/N encouraged, returning his smile. Just then, one of the tour guides approached them, making a beeline for Steven. The woman was dressed in a black dress and had long curly hair. Y/N had seen her leading tours before, mostly for adults, and they had exchanged a few greetings.

There seemed to be more than a casual acquaintance between her and Steven, judging by the way she smiled at him. "How's the sugar trading going?" she asked, starting the conversation in a quirky manner. However, Steven took her words quite literally and started rambling about how figs and dates would be more historically accurate snacks than what the museum provided. Y/N cringed internally, watching him struggle to maintain the conversation. Deciding to give them some privacy, she moved to a nearby shelf and continued stocking items. She still kept a distance where she can still hear the conversation however.

The woman swiftly changed the topic, "Are we still on for 7pm tomorrow?"

Steven looked puzzled, "7pm tomorrow?"

She tilted her head, amused by his confusion but continued smiling, "Best steak in town?"

Y/N furrowed her brows, when did this happen? Steven was usually too shy to speak to anyone, especially attractive women. She sensed the awkwardness in the air and feared Steven would ruin his chance if it continued. Acting quickly, Y/N moved closer to Steven, pretending to wipe down the desk with a cloth. Before the woman could scoff, Y/N discreetly kicked Steven's leg, urging him to respond and not drive her away.

"Oh, uh, right, yeah," he nodded to the woman in front of him. She smiled and walked back to her tour group. Steven watched her walk away, amazed that someone like her would be interested in going out with him. Still, he doesn’t remember when he asked her out. His thoughts were interrupted when Y/N elbowed his arm.

"Damn, look who's got a hot date. Guess I won't be seeing much of you in the future, cousin," she teased.

"Oh, hush now. You didn't think I could do it?" he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

“I mean you were only staring at her while she waited for you to confirm your date. So I had my doubts," Y/N playfully shrugged. Steven crinkled his face into a smile and lightly pushed Y/N, causing her to giggle. Their lighthearted moment was interrupted when Donna walked in with a surprised expression. Y/N groaned, not wanting to deal with her.

"Stevie, you absolute rascal," Donna chimed in, having overheard their conversation. She always seemed to be eavesdropping on her employees' lives and being a judge. Unlike Y/N, who joked about Steven's dating skills, Donna belittled him. Steven simply would nod and let her walk all over him, as usual.

“Oh, speaking of which, have you guys seen the video of that one guy dressed up as Spider-Man riding the motorcycle?” Y/N laughs awkwardly as she tries to change the subject.

Ignoring her, Donna begins judging their date plan, critiquing the way Steven is a vegan and is going to eat at a steakhouse, because how could a sane person choose to go to an all meat restaurant when their vegan? It’s preposterous. Finally Steven had enough and gave Donna a witty answer, “I don’t know, Donna. Salad? Bread?”.

His witty retort caught Donna and even Y/N off guard. Donna remained silent for a moment before scowling and walking away. Steven huffed and continued working, sensing Y/N's gaze on him.

"Dang, and here I thought I was going to be the first one to blow," Y/N smirked, placing a hand on her hip and leaning on the counter.

"I wouldn't necessarily call it that. I just gave her a response," Steven shrugged with a hint of attitude, prompting Y/N to laugh.

"I'll have to keep that in mind, though. Wouldn't want to catch you on one of your bad days and end up fighting,” Y/N playfully positioned herself in a fighting stance, fists raised as if ready to throw punches at Steven.

Steven shook his head and gently lowered her hands. "Oh, put those tiny fists down. You've got nothing to worry about."

Y/N smirked, "I'll take that as a sign to keep annoying you then."

During their lunch breaks, Steven and Y/N enjoyed sitting together, while having casual conversations about their day or discussing the latest news of villains causing trouble in New York. It was their special time together, unless Y/N entered the break room with some juicy gossip, which Steven secretly enjoyed despite telling her that it wasn't their business.

As Steven sat at the table with his sandwich, already immersed in his meal, he heard the door to the break room open. Soon, Y/N walked in, her familiar smile lighting up her face. He knew that smile meant she had some interesting information to share, which would entertain them both.

"So, guess what I found out on my way to the break room," Y/N pulled out a chair and sat down. Steven, with a mouthful of food, simply nodded, gesturing for her to continue.

Leaning forward, Y/N lowered her voice, "Remember Ava from customer service?"

Steven nodded again, signaling her to proceed. Y/N went on to reveal how their coworker who was crying to her ex-boyfriend about wanting him back, rejected her because she had been cheating on him with his best friend from another department. Steven's jaw dropped, and Y/N confirmed it by nodding, her arms crossed as she leaned back in her chair.

"You're lying," Steven said in disbelief.

"I saw them kissing in the stock room with my own eyes," Y/N shrugged casually. Steven was still a bit shocked by the revelation but accepted the information. "I hope her ex doesn't find out soon, or we might witness a scene right here at the museum."

"I actually hope he does find out. It would definitely make my week," Y/N added with a mischievous smile.

Steven nodded in agreement and then remembered the second sandwich he had packed. He slid it across the table to Y/N, who looked at it and suddenly recalled something.

"Oh yeah," she said, standing up and heading to the fridge. She retrieved two Tupperware containers and heated them in the microwave. Returning to the table, she placed one container in front of Steven and kept the other for herself. Steven glanced down at the closed container, then looked back at Y/N.

"I did some grocery shopping and wanted to make you lunch too," Y/N explained, opening her container to reveal a pair of quesadillas and orange rice. Steven opened his container and found the same dish inside. "Thank you, Y/N, but you didn't have to do this for me," he said, grateful for her gesture.

"You always pack me lunch, and you've been so helpful since I started working here. Consider it a thank you," she replied, taking a bite of the sandwich Steven had made for her before moving on to the food she had packed for him. Steven followed suit, and the two of them enjoyed their meal in comfortable silence.

For Steven, it still felt odd to share his lunch break with someone. He used to eat alone and hardly spoke to anyone in the break room. Whenever he tried to strike up a conversation, most people would simply nod or make an excuse to leave, sometimes both. He thought the same situation would happen with Y/N, where she would stick by him for a week or two before finding her own group of friends. However, to his pleasant surprise, she had stuck by his side and engaged in genuine conversation.

"When do your classes start?" Steven asked, taking a sip from his water bottle while waiting for Y/N's response.

Y/N paused for a moment to think. "I think they start this Tuesday," she finally replied.

Steven nodded in understanding. "Have you gotten all your school supplies?"

Y/N paused again, pursing her lips to the side. "I was able to get some, but I still have a few things to get," she admitted.

"Well, if you're missing anything, I might have some extra supplies I can give you," Steven offered, humming thoughtfully.

Y/N's face lit up. "That would honestly mean a lot to me," she said, feeling the weight of her student debt pressing on her.

——

"I think I'm about done here. Are you ready to go?" Y/N turned to Steven, who was locking up the register.

"Same here," he replied, finishing up his tasks. They gathered their belongings from the locker room and headed out.

As they passed JB, the museum's security man, he spotted them and turned in his chair, a smile on his face. "Heard you're going on a date, Steven," he said, teasingly.

Steven ignored him and simply wished JB a good night, already feeling tired from his shift.

"With this miracle, maybe young Y/N can get herself a first date too," JB continued, practically giggling at his own joke. Y/N forced a laugh and responded, "Fuck you too."

She let out a frustrated huff as they walked out of the museum and down the steps. "All he does is watch videos and watch people pass by. He has no room to talk. It's so annoying," she vented.

"At least you now know how your teasing makes me feel," Steven joked.

"My intentions are pure, from one friend to another," Y/N said, placing her hands over her heart in a humorous gesture.

The bus arrived just in time as they reached the bus stop. The small crowd of people poured in, and since it was late, there were a few empty seats available. Steven and Y/N sat down, stretching their limbs and holding their belongings close to their chests.

"So what are you wearing for your date?" Y/N asked curiously.

Steven shrugged, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "Honestly, not sure. Plus, it's been a while since I've been on a date, so I don't even know what's appropriate to wear."

Y/N pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Well, personally, I think it's nice when a guy dresses up a bit more than usual," she said, scanning Steven up and down, making him feel slightly self-conscious. "You could definitely use an upgrade."

Steven glanced down at his jacket and button-up shirt. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

"No offense, but they kind of give off a janitor vibe," Y/N replied, a mischievous glint in her eye. Steven looked at her with a half-lidded gaze, not sure if she was being serious. "Oh, how funny," he said sarcastically.

Y/N nudged him lightly with her elbow. "I'm just messing with you. But seriously, I'm going to help you pick out your outfit."

Despite her teasing, it was evident that Y/N cared about Steven as a friend. She often stood up for him, defending him against anyone who spoke ill of him. Whenever she confronted someone, Steven would intervene, pulling her away before things escalated. Later, he would lecture her about not needing her to fight his battles, though he secretly appreciated her support. It always ended with laughter, thanks to the witty comments Y/N made.

Still, Donna was the one person she couldn’t talk back to, for some reason.

——

In the elevator, Steven suddenly remembered his offer to give Y/N the college supplies. "Oh, right. You still want those supplies I mentioned earlier?" he asked, turning to Y/N and catching her off guard.

Y/N blinked for a moment, then replied, "Oh yeah, but if you want we can do it tomorrow."

"Let's be honest, we'll both forget about it by the time we get to our apartments."

Y/N nodded, admitting her forgetfulness. "True. Alright, I guess we'll head to your place first."

As the elevator doors opened, they stepped out and made their way to Steven's door. Y/N waited patiently as he fumbled with the keys to unlock it. Finally, they entered his apartment. Steven placed his satchel on a table and hung his jacket next to it.

"It won't take long, you can hang out with Gus in the meantime," he said, gesturing towards his pet goldfish. He then walked over to a table where a stack of books and other materials were piled up.

Y/N's eyes roamed around the apartment, taking in the decor and the various items scattered about. A large bookshelf filled with books caught her attention as she entered. To the left, there was a table with piles of papers, and to the right, a bulletin board with Egyptian pictures. Rugs were scattered across the floor, and stacks of books and papers added to the organized chaos. As she stepped further in, she heard the creaking of the floorboards beneath her feet. Guess it wasn’t just her studio.

Towards the far right side of the apartment, she noticed the kitchen area. An old-style stove stood against the wall, and above it was a large vent with a light at the bottom, an unusual design choice that piqued her curiosity. She then glanced to her left and saw a table stacked with boxes, but what intrigued her were the bags of sand. Puzzled, she shrugged it off and continued towards the center of the apartment.

There, she spotted a fish tank surrounded by books, serving as makeshift support for the tank. Inside, there was a chubby goldfish with only one fin. "You must be Gus, huh?" she murmured, offering a smile to the aquatic resident.

Moving on, her gaze fell upon a small one-seat sofa facing a modest television. It sat atop a table overflowing with books. As she turned to her right, she noticed Steven's bed. Curiosity got the better of her, and she approached for a closer look. To her surprise, she discovered cuffs tied to the bed frame, with sand meticulously spread around it. "That's what the bags of sand were for," she uttered aloud, her voice laced with intrigue.

Just then, Steven walked in, carrying a stack of lined paper, folders, and pencils. “Alright, I have all the things you might need…”, his words trailed off as he caught sight of Y/N staring at his bed. His heart sank, this gave off so many red flags. His thoughts ran more wild as her silence made it worse.

"So, uh, cuffs, huh?" Y/N stood there in shock, her eyes fixed on the restraints attached to the bed. She then turned to Steven, a mix of curiosity and amusement on her face. "Okay, I don't know if this is for murderous or kinky purposes, but strangely enough, I'm not freaked out."

Steven's eyebrows shot up, surprised by her response. "Really?" he asked, seeking confirmation.

She nodded affirmatively. "Yup."

"Well, that's good to hear because both of your assumptions were way off," he said, placing the items he was carrying onto a nearby table. "What other reason could there be?"

Y/N crossed her arms, contemplating for a moment. He walked toward the bed, picking up one of the cuffs. "Well, I sleepwalk," he admitted. "And sometimes it causes me to leave my apartment unknowingly. So I use these," he gestured to the cuff in his hand, "to prevent myself from wandering off."

Y/N took a few seconds to process the information, and then a look of understanding appeared on her face. "Oh, that makes sense," she exclaimed, relieved. "I'm glad it's that and not something more concerning."

Steven let out a small chuckle. "Of course, you surely didn't think I was a–”

"A psychopath with a weird fetish?" she finished his sentence, a playful smile on her lips.

He paused for a moment, then nodded. "Uhm, in short, yes."

Y/N shook her head. "Nah, I know how to spot someone like that from a mile away. And you, sir, have no 'killing spree' bone in you."

"I see. I'm surprised you didn't freak out and run out the door," he remarked, trying to lighten the mood.

A mischievous glint sparkled in Y/N's eyes. "Oh, if I were freaked out, I would have pulled out my pepper spray and extendable pole on you," she teased. Steven looked at her in shock, not quite sure what she meant by "extendable pole."

Sensing his confusion, she rummaged through her purse and retrieved a small silver canister with a pin attached to it. Steven furrowed his eyebrows, his curiosity piqued.

"How does that work?" Steven asked.

Y/N grinned mischievously. "You'll see, step back."

Steven obeyed, taking a few steps away from her. Y/N carefully positioned the cylinder so it wouldn't cause any damage. With a swift motion, she pulled the pin, and in an instant, the cylinder transformed into a six-foot pole. Steven jumped back in surprise.

Y/N laughed at his reaction and retracted the pole back into its compact form. "See, now I don't have to worry about being mugged," she said with a satisfied smile.

Steven nodded, still a bit startled. Then he remembered the supplies he had promised Y/N. "Oh yeah, here are the supplies I promised you." Y/N looked at the stack of items and was amazed. "Oh wowm when you said it was a few things, I didn’t think that much," she exclaimed, letting out a small laugh.

After a few more minutes of conversation, Steven walked Y/N to the door. As she opened it, she turned back to him, gratitude in her eyes. "Hey, thanks for the stuff. I really appreciate it. I owe you."

Steven waved her off. "You don't owe me anything, but if you want, you can make me more of that dish you made for lunch."

Y/N's eyes lit up with excitement. "Yeah! I'll make you more tomorrow," she promised, already looking forward to it. She walked across the hallway to her own door. "Anyways, good night, man. I'll help you with your outfit tomorrow," she called out, unlocking her door and disappearing inside.

———

The morning sunlight streamed through the windows as Y/N slipped on her shoes and made her way to Steven's apartment. She knocked on the door, expecting a prompt response. Silence greeted her. She knocked again, a growing sense of unease creeping up within her. Still, there was no answer. She knocked a few more times, each attempt met with an eerie silence that sent a chill down her spine.

Did he sleep through his alarm again? Y/N pondered, a twinge of worry tugging at her. She reached for her phone and dialed Steven's number, only to be met with the voicemail greeting. She kept trying to calling him, but it was the same automated voice of Steven.

Frustration mounting, Y/N's concern turned into alarm. She started to pound on the door, her fists connecting with the solid wood. "Hey, Steven! Wake up!" Her voice echoed through the hallway as she relentlessly banged on the door. She was probably waking up the neighbors, but she didn't care. Something wasn't right. This wasn't like him. Did he pass out? Did he leave without her? He would have told her before he left.

Anxiety slowly crept into her body as she wondered about Steven. "Where is he?" she muttered.

————————

So sorry for the late update! Honestly, I was going through writers block but I am back now. Hope you guys enjoy. I tried to have Steven and Y/N’s become closer in a week as you can see.

#hispanic reader #marc spector x teen!reader #moon knight #steven grant x teen!reader #marc spector #steven grant #steven grant x reader #platonic #marc spector x reader #latina reader

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cybersvoid · 3 years ago

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❥ Falling In Love

♡ Pairings: Saiki x Reader

✏ Request: I only recently got into saiki k and I am DESPERATE for yandere content ;-; maybe some stalking, mind reading, implanting his own thoughts? [Anon]

!!Warnings!!: Obsession, Controlling, Manipulation, Stalking, etc.

Kusuo had never intended to fall in love. Especially not as hard as he did when he first met you. You came into his life out of nowhere, but then again, that was a pretty common occurrence in his world. People always have a way of coming in and screwing with things. And you were no exception.

When he met new people, usually it was followed by new ‘adventures’ or troublesome situations that he’d end up getting himself stuck in. But you didn’t mess with things in a way that he was used to. You messed with him psychologically.

At first, he wanted nothing to do with you. More than satisfied knowing nothing about you and keeping his distance. It was actually Nendo who was the first to take the lead in getting to know you, which looking back on it now, Saiki is always more than a little jealous of. He wished he could’ve been the first to talk to you, but he didn’t know how hard he would fall for you, and how much you would mean to him in the future. If he did, there was no doubt in his mind that he would’ve made sure to be the first to approach you and make you fall in love with him sooner, so you could’ve spent even more time together.

“Aye, kiddo! You should tag along with my buddies and me. We’re heading to this new Ramen place that just opened up downtown. We could give ya a tour when we’re done. Give ya the rundown on everything.”

Saiki didn’t need to use his telepathy to see the hesitation you held. Not that he blamed you. Nendo wasn’t the most trustworthy-looking person in the class. But you didn’t even get a chance to decline before he was tugging you along. Saiki and Kaido following close behind.

That was the day he fell in love with you. Although he wouldn’t realize it for many days after.

At night, he would lie awake, thoughts of you drowning his mind, making it nearly impossible for him to sleep. He always thought about what you were doing. Were you sleeping, or awake like him? If you were sleeping, what were you dreaming about? If you were awake, what were you doing? We’re you studying? Were you with someone?

After a week of trying to sort through his new feelings. Wondering why he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Wondering why he couldn’t stop watching you throughout the day. Finally, it hit him… he liked you.

And it all went downhill from there. What started out as a simple crush began slowly, yet steadily, morphing into something deeper. You were perfect. He wanted to know everything on your mind at all times, and luckily that wasn’t a problem for him.

Hours on end were spent just listening to your thoughts as the world around him disappeared into white noise he couldn’t care less about. Some nights when his thoughts on you were especially loud. He would teleport to your house and just watch you sleep. Your soft breaths filling up the silence in the room and soothing his loud thoughts.

Eventually, observing and listening wasn’t enough. He wanted you. He wanted you to talk to him directly about what you were feeling and how your day was instead of him having to pull the information out of your head for himself. He wanted you to walk home with him. Or hang out after school with him, and he wanted you to do it out of your own volition. If he’s the one making these choices for you, then there’s really no meaning behind it. So he came up with a way to get you to fall for him with just a bit of help from him.

‘Ugh, I’m actually kind of thirsty. I can’t believe I left my wallet at home.’

And he’s off. He grabs your go-to vending machine drink and casually sets it down on your desk. Your eyes dart back and forth between him and the drink. A cute confused expression drawn on your perfect features.

“I bought a drink and two came out. You wouldn’t happen to want the extra would you?”

Confusion fades into excitement and disbelief. “Yeah sure, thanks, Saiki!”

He’ll only grin. A few more months of this and you’ll be completely smitten. It might take a while, but you’ll be worth the wait. For now, he’ll continue to watch you go about your day, unaware that soon, very soon, you’ll be falling in love with him, just as he has fallen for you.

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blood-injections · 2 years ago

Text

Imagine Kobra and Party in the place of Blue and Red in the comics. It starts off the same, Blue(Kobra) goes out to try and get a new battery for a dying Red(Poison), cause his is faulty, he’s a slightly older model than Blue. Porno droids can be either sex, so Red is a male model in this case but Blue is a female model. Blues sure to change that when she becomes Kobra, though. So, the beginning is the same, Blue tries to get a replacement battery for Red but the paperwork keeps getting turned down and eventually in the deep, abandoned levels of the social services building, the droid at the kiosk tells her that Red can’t get a replacement battery because he’s an outdated model and that he’s obsolete and that he’ll be collected for scrap. This is where their story deviates from the comic, becuase instead of breaking into a vending machine for plus that Reds not going to be able to process anyway, Blue breaks into a storage facility and just steals a battery. She makes it out but not without having to shoot her way out a little. Luckily she remains unscathed, and makes it back to Red. She replaces his battery, and he’s good as new, but now they’re both wanted. Reds going to be collected and repurposed because he’s an outdated model and Blue just killed Better Living Employees. So their choices now are to go underground and hide until their joints corrode and their batteries die- or to risk freedom by making a run for the desert. The electricity cuts off at the edge of the city, they won’t be connected to the grid, they’ll have to rely entirely on plus to survive and the sand won’t be kind to their hardware, but it’ll be worth it to them. As long as they stay stockpiled on it, they’ll be fine.

So they run for it and they make make it, the dracs stop shooting when they cross the point at which the concrete turns to sand, and they’re unscathed and home free. The first thing they notice is that they can see the stars. The desert is beautiful.

And they begin walking, they escape on foot, so they’re walking, searching for someplace to call home, or at least to rest for a night or two while they get things sorted out. They spend the time walking, talking. Planning and thinking and deciding that they want to do something. They’re not in the lobby anymore, doomed to sit and wait for destroya to come and save them. They decide to fight, to be people, not machines with some sole purpose. They decide to be their own people, they decide to be killjoys.

“You said we could go by actual names, be someone, who will you become?” Blue asks at one point.

“I’m not completely sure yet.” Red replies, “I used to think about it all the time, but now that I’m actaully here I’ve changed my mind on it all. I always thought Gerard could be a cool name for me, a real, normal name. But I don’t care for it as much now, I want something cool, y’know? I want to be someone cool, unique. Like we hear about killjoys that gave all these badass names that tell a story, that mean someone to them. I’ve been trying to come up with one that fits.” He explains. “What about you.”

“I have no clue.” She says after looking down at herself, “I can’t think of a name but I could go for something cool, too. Maybe you could choose one for me, once you figure out your own. I just know I want to be different, I want to defy everything I was created to be. I want whoever’s out here to look at me na d know I’m one of them. I don’t want to be seen as an object anymore, I want to be seen as a person. I’ll- do you think bleach works on out hair? Whatever, if it doesn’t I’ll shave it all off. I wasn’t as sure earlier, but I am now. I want to be loud, I want to speak my mind, I want to stand for something beyond what the city made us for. Maybe we can’t help other droids out here, but we can help humans leaving the city, we can help the killjoys that are already out here by standing with them, they’re BLI’s Poison. Better Living doesn’t give a shit about us, they leave us to rust in the streets and replace old models and recycle us like we’re not people too. They can get rid of us and they do- but they can’t ever get rid of the killjoys. They’re always out here fighting, even after years.”

And Red understands her. “I admire them too.” He says, in love with the thought of becoming one of them, a freedom fighter. “It sounds like such a great way to live. And me too- I want to be loud, too. I want to make art and do something that just screams fuck you to BLI. I want to- I want to fucking party.”

And that’s when the thought comes, and he throws back his head and laughs like never before because he’s free, and he knows who he is. “Hell yeah, I want to party. And what you just said about the killjoys being their Poison- that have me an idea. I like it. What do you think? Party Poison?”

“For your name?” Blue asks, giddy and proud.

“Yeah.”

“I love it. It suits you. Got one for me?”

“Maybe, but try coming up with one yourself first. The thrill of it is.. it’s finding yourself. It’s immeasurable.”

“Alright. Give me a nickname, then. I don’t want to be blue anymore.”

They try a few things. Party suggests sis, because they’re very much siblings in each others mind, but it doesn’t fit, makes something twist like a knife in her gut. They try a random letter, but none work out. Ultimately they settle on just not really referring to her at all, and that works.

Then they stumble upon the diner. They have enough plus for their first month, and the diner has everything from power out to a med kid in a back room for any passing joys. There’s a radio tucked under the counter, and they settle in. For the first few days they figure stuff out, always listening to the radio, learn to shoot with the gun Blue got to fight her way out with when she got the battery for Red. They take note of anything important spoken by the dj, who they learn is Doctor death defying. He purrs over the airwaves about Tommy’s shop, and concerts at the fuck you house, and the traffic. It’s how they start learning their way around. They know Tommy’s shop is west, and they have a few carbons, so they head out, walking once again. They buy hair dye and more plus and another gun and spray paint Poison finds a mask that’s perfect for him and they find jackets that suit them both, that they’re definitely going to customize a little with the paint they got. They’re set, and at the checkout Tommy welcomes them to the zones, recognizes that they’re new, thinks that they’re human, because they pass as it, and that’s just what they wanted. They decided not to tell anyone they’re droids, because surely they’d be looked at differently. Even by killjoys.

But tommy welcomes them and asks them what they’re called and what they go by. Blue asks what he means with the latter and Tommy has to raise his eyebrows, explains the concept of ‘he, her, they, them, nothing at all, all of the above? Some people come up with brand new ones and some people go by their names exclusively. Folks out here just don’t care. Personally, I’m Tommy Chow Mein, owner iff this shop, and I don’t really care either. It’s just another way of defying Better Livings rules and stereotypes and shit, you can be whatever you want to be’

This, of course, awakens something in Blue. Poison goes, “oh, that’s awesome. I haven’t really thought about it but you know what? I really like they. Actually, I don’t care, you can call me whatever you want. But I think I do prefer they.” and they’re overjoyed at their realization.

Blue isn’t really sure, and she voices that. “I’m not sure what I like it go by.” She has made one decision, though. “My name, uh, my names Kobra, though.”

They had decided it between arriving at diner and leaving it for the shop, hadn’t thought of something to follow it with, just the one word, but they knew it was them. They hasn’t told poison yet, and in this moment their brother looked so, so proud. Tommy says “you’ll figure out the rest, kid.”

They get back to the diner and Kobra cuts their hair short and bleaches it sand-blonde, all traces of Blue gone. Seeing this in the mirror, Kobra finally Knew. “You look good.” Poison says when Kobra remeerges. “And you look happy, happier than I’ve ever seen you.

“I think.. I think I just finally realized who I am.” Kobra says. “And it’s amazing, finally knowing, but uncomfortable too, I-“

And Kobra breaks off, and then starts to explain exactly how they feel, who they want to be.

The conversation ends with Poison calling Kobra their brother. And all is finally right.

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gh0stchoir · 3 years ago

Note

I'll always ask beforehand. I prefer to ditch a request over making the author uncomfortable. To the Request: Reader is part of the Karasuno team, all know he's a trans-male and support him. After winning against a different team, their captain harasses Reader and calls him transphobic slurs. Cue a murder (yes, a bunch of crows is called a murder) of angry Karasuno boys protecting their teammate. Up to you if Yachi and Shimizu are there too or not.

“We’re crows after all, we stay in a pact.”

Masterlist

Anime: Haikyuu!!

Character(s): Karasuno (platonic)

Pronouns used: he/him (trans ftm)

Time set point: highschool

Warnings?: transphobic slurs, deadnaming, harassment, threatening, blood(very little, it’s a nosebleed) , not proofread

D/n means deadname

A/n: ALSO CLOUDS YOUR REQUESTS ARE ALWYAS TOP TIER???LIKE PLS FEED ME MORE 🤲🤲

⚠️FEMALE ALIGNED= DNI OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.⚠️

“Nice receive y/n!”

“Good job!”

Y/n smiled tiredly, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he listened to the praise from his teammates. If not for that receive, then that point wouldn’t of gone to Karasuno.

A whistle blown, making the gym quiet down. Y/n turned to see his number on the card(is that what it’s called??) with Nishinoya smiling. He jogged off, grabbing ahold of the card and waiting until the signal to go and get a drink.

Y/n immediately went to the managers. Yachi handed him a water bottle and congratulated him. Kiyoko agreed, smiling at the younger male. “Are you breathing alright, y/n-san?” The older manager asked.

Y/n nodded, stretching his arms a bit. “Yup! Just a little overworked is all!” He smiled reassuringly. The managers continued to ask questions, just to make sure he wasn’t pushing past his limits.

From the other side of the court, the captain of the other team glanced at y/n with furrowed brows. He knew y/n, back from middle school. And everyday he’d pester y/n and belittle him simply for y/n being transgender. Hence why y/n didn’t go to the high school most people from his middle school went to. He wanted to go to Karasuno instead, knowing it was a less known school that nobody he knew would be there.

Luckily, all of Karasuno had immediately accepted y/n when Sugawara accidentally walked in on y/n with his binder on and extremely exhausted from playing in it. From then on, the entire team made sure he wore his binder at the correct times, and always made sure he stretched and everything afterwards. The entire team loved y/n.

Not only was he a great player, but he was just a genuinely good person to be around. Even Tsukishima didn’t mind him. All of Karasuno protected him. Like overprotective siblings or parents. Say one bad thing about him and you’ll have a group of angered high school volleyball players ready to kick your ass.

The whistle blew, for the final time as Karasuno happily cheered. A victory for them! Y/n laughed as Nishinoya tackled him and a few other teammates, all congratulating themselves. They all were tired and worked hard. They deserved to have this.

“Come on now, we have to tell the other team good game” Suga laughed, helping y/n and the others up. The team lined up on the back line and bowed. Both teams thanked the other before going off respectively.

Y/n laughed as Tanaka and Nishinoya roughhoused a bit, Hinata joining in. “I’ll be right back guys, gonna go get a treat for myself from the vending machine!” He called back and ran off to get himself a snack. He hummed as his feet led him to a vending machine. He gazed at the options, taking a few moments before deciding on something. He waited a few seconds before it fell down letting him grab it.

“Well well well. If it isn’t the little tr*nny from junior high.”

Y/n froze in place. The voice, he knew it so easily. The voice he had to hear while playing the match. Why did he have talk to him now, when y/n was alone and vulnerable. He needed to get back to his team. He needed them right then.

He tried to quickly scurry off, only for the captain to grab ahold of y/n’s wrist and stop him in place. The captain grinned and narrowed his eyes.

“Why do you force those teammates of yours to call you by that stupid fake name and nonexistent pronouns…you’re so manipulative yknow. Just a pathetic fuckin’ tra-“

“For your information, he doesn’t force us to do anything.”

Y/n and his perpetrator both turned to see all of Karasuno, glaring intensely. Daichi stood infront, arms crossed. He looked like an angry father, who’s kid was just made fun of.

The captain immediately let go of y/n, smiling sweetly. “Oh I’m sorry! That was a little joke, yknow little d/n-chan here and I go long back. Before she started her whole story of being a boy. Just to perv on guys.” His smile was sickly and disgusting. The more he spoke, the more Karasuno began to get more pissed off. They were trying everything to not fight him right then and there.

Y/n, however, was pulled gently by Kiyoko to behind the team as he shakily curled into both the managers’ embraces. He didn’t want them to know his deadname. Didn’t want them to see him like this, crying shaking and defenseless. He felt so defeated. So inferior to all the others that stood infront of him.

“Say anything else and you’re in for a treat.” Tanaka glared, tightening his fists. He was so tempted to force the captain to shuttup, making sure he didn’t wake up for a few hours. Ryuu hated people like him, hell the whole team did! Why would you go out of your way to make someone feel like shit because you find it amusing? Sick bastards.

The captain raised a brow, and smirked. He never knew when to back down and was prepared for anything. Well, he thought he was prepared for everything.

“Oh? What’s a guy like you gonna do? I was just speaking the truth! She’s nothing but a perverted wanna be and-“ The captain let out a shriek of pain as he fell down to the ground, holding his nose. Kageyama stood infront, staring down at him with dark eyes.

“We said shuttup.” Tobio watched as the captain’s confidence practically disappeared from thin air, now he was quivering in fear as blood trickled from his nose. It was a strong punch, one that could’ve easily broken his nose. Who knows, maybe it did. If it did, Karasuno would be damn well pleased.

“You-you maniacs!! How dare you hurt someone that’s speaking facts??!” The captain pointed up at them, his other hand still holding his bleeding nose. A snicker was heard, coming from Tsukishima and Yamaguchi.

“We’re the maniacs? We weren’t the ones who called someone a slur.” The blonde pushed up his glasses, his tall stature making him much more intimidating. Yamaguchi agreed, glaring down at the captain. “And you claim your speaking facts, when you aren’t? Y/n is a guy. Simple as that.” Tadashi watched as the pathetic captain narrowed his eyes on them.

He slowly rose to his feet, glaring at the entire team. As if they were in the wrong, and he was the right one. As if he had not harassed someone. Well when you mess with one of the crows, you get the whole murder after you. And they will not back down until they’ve proven themselves worthy of protecting their family.

“I can report you all you know. I didn’t hurt anyone, and you punched me. My nose could be broken!” He whined, looking at the blood that began to dry on his fingers. He cringed.

Now Sugawara stepped up. His usual happy demeanor was long gone, instead a rather intimidating look on his face. An intimidating one for someone that was shorter than some on his team.

“Report us for what exactly? Standing up for our teammate? You harassed him. If we didn’t step in you would have most likely physically hurt him. I know how people like you act.” The vice captain glared, watching as the rival captain tsked. He was taller than Sugawara, though, he would be lying if he said he didn’t intimidate him. Hell, the captain of Nekoma even admitted to it!

Y/n sniffed, listening to the comforting words from both his team managers. He couldn’t believe what had happened. He knew his team was tight knitted and close together, but never did he think that they’d stand up for him like that. Even Kageyama punched someone for him. That meant something. “He didn’t hurt you physically right? We didn’t come too late?”

Suddenly the whole teams attention was on y/n, who was curled next to Yachi and Shimizu. Nishinoya was the one who asked the question. He was knelt down with sad and angered eyes. Y/n shook his head, wiping his tears.

“No I-..why. Why did you all do that-”

The team froze. What was he talking about? Did he think that they’d just let that captain push him around like that? Damage him mentally and probably physically?

Hinata quickly crouched down, his eyebrows knitted. “What do you mean? We did it because we care about you!! You’re our teammate, our family! We aren’t just gonna let you get hurt!” He blurted out. Suga smiled and kneeled down next to the first year.

“Hinata’s right. When you decided to join our team, you joined our family. We don’t leave anyone behind. We’re crows after all, we stay in a pact.” The setter grinned, watching as y/n smiled softly and nodded.

The rest of the night ended with everyone hanging out, celebrating their win. They had loads of snacks and were out in a public park. Y/n sat on a bench, next to Daichi, Suga, and Asahi. Most of the team were close by, some in benches just a few yards away.

“Mhm? What’s got you all smiley?” Suga tilted his head, watching as y/n stared up at the sky with half closed eyes and a warm smile. It was a chilly night out, causing his cheeks to be a slight shade of pink. He let out a breath of air, glancing at all the stars.

“Just earlier..it made me feel, so welcome. Like I belong here” He looked back at Suga, now seeing both Daich and Asahi turning to look at him.

Suga grinned and wrapped his arm around y/n, a little tightly. “Of course you belong here! We wouldn’t be Karasuno without you.” He smiled brightly, earning two agreements from the other third years. “Suga isn’t wrong. You help make the team what it is.” Daichi smiled, watching as y/n’s eyes glowed with happiness.

Asahi nodded, now agreeing with both statements. “Without you, the team would be less fun yknow..” Y/n dramatically gasped, causing Asahi to get confused.

“Oh Asahi, you’re so so sweet!!” Y/n gushed, standing up and wrapping his arms around himself in a hug. Suga and Daichi bursted out laughing, as Asahi turned red from embarrassment. The scene attracted the rest of the teams eyes, as soon everyone joined in.

This felt like home. No no, it was home for Y/n. These people were his family, they were there to love and care for him. Not to hurt him, not to throw him aside like everyone else had. His home was Karasuno.

#haikyuu x male reader #x male reader #haikyuu!!#fanfic #haikyuu x trans reader #women dni #x trans reader #platonic #Karasuno x male reader #Karasuno x trans reader

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cno-inbminor · 4 years ago

Text

iterum vivere (childe/tartaglia)

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

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

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

wc: 12.1k; angst + fluff

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

EDIT: Altered ChiLumi version now posted on AO3 here!

“Haven’t we met before?”

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

“A fucking whale, Childe?”

Oh.

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

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

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

“History and anthropology, you?”

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

“With Dr. Zhong?”

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

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

“Did you need me for anything?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So why ask me about the mythology?”

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

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

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

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

“Some.”

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

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

Or do they douse you in security?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me, what’s a Red Bull?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay!”

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

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

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

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

“Thank you!”

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

“Wait, what’s your name again?”

“It’s (Y/n).”

“Okay, (y/n)! Wait…(y/n)..as in…”

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

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

Oh. Oh dear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good heavens.

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

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

You can’t stay here any longer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hold the fuck up.

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

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

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

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

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

“For them and their twin?”

“And quite a comfortable futon with enough blankets.”

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

Laughing. Loving. Grinning. Basking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Happy Holidays, Ajax ^^”

There is hope.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You want him to. So, so bad.

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

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

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

“Found you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I did. You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like to think that we will.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything makes sense now.

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

“I love you too?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mora for your thoughts?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, Archons.

“ -ou okay, Ajax? Ajax?”

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

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

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

Wait.

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

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

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

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

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

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

fin

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

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gingwrites · 3 years ago

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Jungkook and the Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Day (Or Not?) (Yoonkook)

BTS Masterlist

Summary: “Your friend’s in a stage four subdrop. Does he have a dom I can call that can meet us at the next stop?” the man asked, looking up at Jimin.

Subdrop? Dom? Jungkook was a neutral. How was he in a subdrop?

“What? How- He-” Jimin stuttered, mind racing. He’d never felt so lost before in his life. Jungkook was still panicking beside him, now clutching his chest as he tried to breathe. “He doesn’t have a dom. He’s a neutral!”

In a world of dom, subs, and switches, Jungkook always believed he was a neutral, until he goes into a sub drop on the bus. In steps professional dom Yoongi.

Pairing: Yoonkook

Tags: Non-sexual dominance; panic attacks; sub drop

Jungkook is having a shitty day. First, he sleeps through his three alarms, which means he didn't have time to eat breakfast if he wanted to make his bus, and he did because the next bus didn't come for an hour, which would definitely make him late for work.

Then, his bus broke down halfway to his stop, so his options were to either wait the hour for the next bus or run the rest of the way. He chose to run; he couldn't afford to be late. So then he showed up sweaty, and his boss got onto him for showing up "unprofessional."

The cherry on top of his crappy day was when he realized he forgot his lunch and his wallet at home. So now he couldn't even buy anything from the vending machine. Luckily, he still had his phone and his bus card on him. Maybe Jimin wouldn’t eat his entire lunch and he'd let Jungkook eat it on the bus ride home.

Everything that could’ve gone wrong had gone wrong, and Jungkook didn't think his day could get any worse. But of course, he wasn’t that lucky.

He was supposed to give a major presentation with his boss for some executives, but they were having technical issues and couldn't pull up the presentation in the conference room. Jungkook had no idea what was causing the issue. He'd visited the conference room that morning to make sure he would have everything set up and know how to run everything.

Luckily, the execs seemed to be very understanding and patient. He couldn't say the same for his boss. Jungkook could practically see the steam coming out of her ears. He knew he'd be in for a lecture when they were done.

Their presentation went off without a hitch after that, thankfully (his boss had stepped on a cord that fully unplugged the entire setup and she wasn't too happy when Jungbook figured out what had happened and tried to explain it to her). They even had their proposal approved, which Jungkook thought was great news.

But that happiness vanished into thin air when the meeting was over and his boss pulled him back to her office and all but slammed the door behind them.

"I can't believe you would embarrass me like that in front of the entire executive committee!" she screamed. "How dare you!"

Jungkook hunched in on himself. He'd never liked failing at anything, and he certainly didn't like getting yelled at. He didn't think he deserved this sort of reaction, but maybe he had been wrong and the execs had actually been upset. It wouldn't be the first time he'd misread a situation.

"First, you can't even work a basic computer, and then you have the gall to blame it on me? In front of everyone who matters in this company?" she continued her tirade, either unaware or uncaring of the emotions playing out on Jungkook's face and body language.

Maybe it really was my fault. I didn't tell her to watch out for the cords. I should've prepared for that situation when I practiced this morning.

Guilt started pooling in Jungkook's chest and he didn't know how to deal with it.

"And on top of all that, you showed up to work all sweaty and gross this morning. What if you had run into one of the execs on your way in? What do you think they would have to say about your professionalism? You're a disgrace to this company," she finished her rant and finally turned to look at Jungkook.

"And now you're going to cry about it?" she scoffed. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were acting like a bratty sub, crying to get out of trouble."

There were four types of people in the world: doms, subs, switches, and neutrals. Everyone was tested when they turned 18. If you fell somewhere on the dom/sub spectrum, then you biologically needed to have some sort of dominant/submissive relationship in your life; it didn't have to be sexual.

Doms, subs, and switches were also assigned a number that correlated with how much dominance/submission they would need in their life. If you got a one, you could survive with very little dominance and submission, maybe having a scene only once every couple of weeks or so. On the other hand, if you got a ten, you would need scenes almost every day. If you didn't give the right amount of dominance/submission, you would become very sick.

Jungkook was a neutral. He'd always thought he'd be a submissive or at least a switch, but his test came back as a neutral. His parents had been very surprised, both being switches themselves.

"Well? Do you have anything to say for yourself?" His boss was now standing in front of him, tapping her foot,

Junghook lifted his hands to his cheeks, remembering that she said something about him crying. He pulled his fingers away, covered in his salty tears. When did that happen? Well, this wouldn't be the first or last time he'd cried at work, he figured.

"I'm speaking to you," his boss all but growled out.

Oh. He must've zoned out for a moment when he realized he was crying. That was new.

"I'm sorry," Jungkook was able to stutter out.

"That's all you have to say? 'I'm sorry?'" his boss mocked. "Just get out of my office. In fact, I don't want to see you again today. Go home and think about what you've done."

Jungkook's heart sank. He was being sent home? That had never happened before. But then again, he had never embarrassed his boss like that. He deserved it. He didn't deserve to be at work and around her.

Jungkook stood up, not wanting to make her more upset, bowing to her before quickly turning on his heel to all but run back to his desk to gather the few things he had brought with him today.

He made it two steps out of the building before he realized that it was barely mid-afternoon and he always met Jimin after work and the two rode the bus home together. Since he didn't have his phone with him, Jungkook didn't want to head home now and leave Jimin waiting for him with no way to contact the younger man.

Looks like Jungkook would be stuck waiting here for at least an hour.

Unfortunately, that gave Jungkook time to stew in his thoughts.

She was totally right. I screwed up the entire presentation and now the entire executive team knows how incompetent of an employee I am.

And I made her look bad when it was all my fault!

Who gave me the right to blame her? It was my job to set the presentation up. I should’ve been prepared for any possible thing to go wrong, including someone stepping on a wire. Why wasn’t I prepared for that?

I’m such a bad-

“Excuse me, but are you alright?”

Jungkook was pulled out of his swirling thoughts by a man crouching down in front of the bench he had been sitting on while he waited for Jimin.

“Do you need me to call your dom for you?” the man continued.

Dom? What’s he talking about? I’m not a sub or a switch?

“It’s not safe for you to be out when you’re in a drop. Is somebody already on their way for you?” the man went on.

“I- but-” Jungkook stuttered out, confused by the man’s words. Who would ever confuse him for a sub or a switch? And in a drop? Jungkook wasn’t the most knowledgeable about dynamics since he was a neutral and wasn’t required to take the in-depth courses like those with a dynamic were, but he did know the basics of a sub and dom drop. Why would the man think he was in a subdrop?

“I’m not- I don’t have a dom. I’m a neutral,” Jungkook was finally able to get out very quietly. His tongue suddenly felt too heavy in his mouth and talking felt nearly impossible.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” the man quickly apologized. “You were just displaying a few classic signs of a subdrop. Please excuse my mistake.”

The man stood up and bowed to Jungkook, who accepted his apology and waved the man off.

Instead of spiraling back into his thoughts about work, Jungkook was now thinking about how the man confused him with a sub.

Jungkook had taken the test, just like everybody else. And his paper had said “Neutral” in big block letters at the top. Not really that easy to miss it. Granted, both he and his parents had been surprised at the outcome, but they had all accepted it as the test was always right.

“What’s got you looking so blue?” Jimin asked as he walked up to Jungkook.

Jungkook looked up, shocked. Was it after five o’clock already? He really had gotten lost in his thoughts, didn’t he?

“Come on, we don’t want to miss our bus,” Jimin chided, holding out his hand when Jungkook didn’t immediately get up.

Now facing the daunting task of doing something other than sit on the bench, Jungkook felt like both his mind and body were moving through molasses. He slowly looked at Jimin’s outstretched hand and then back up to Jimin’s face. Jimin was looking at him expectantly, though his eyebrows started to furrow the longer it took for Jungkook to accept his hand.

“Okay,” Jungkook was able to get out. If he thought talking was hard earlier, it seemed nearly impossible now.

Jungkook used all his energy to place his hand in Jimin’s, using it to help him off the bench.

Once they started walking toward their bus stop, Jimin seemed to forget about Jungkook’s behavior since the younger man was following along and listening to Jimin talk about his day.

Jungkook didn’t remember arriving at the bus stop. He didn’t remember scanning his bus pass. He only realized he was on the bus when Jimin pulled him down into the seat next to him.

“Are you okay? You seem a bit off,” Jimin finally asked once they were comfortable in their seats and the bus started to move again.

It took Jungkook a minute to realize that Jimin had asked him a question and was waiting for an answer.

Jungkook nodded, knowing it would be impossible to try and get even one word out. What was happening to him? Could today get any worse?

Jimin looked unsure. He’d known Jungkook long enough to know when he was okay and when he was lying.

“Whatever it is that’s happened, just know that I’m here for you when you’re ready to talk about it,” Jimin reassured. He grabbed Jungkook’s hand in his own and squeezed, hoping the small comfort would help.

Before Jungkook could even think about responding, a lady at the front of the bus started yelling. It sounded like her pass had been rejected, and the driver wasn’t allowing her on the bus.

Jungkook flinched, the woman’s voice sounding too similar to his boss’s, which brought memories from earlier in the day to the front of his mind.

What if she fires me tomorrow? I won’t be able to afford my apartment. I won’t be able to afford food. It took me long enough to find this job. How will I ever find another one? Obviously, I’m not a good employee, so who would want to hire me anyway? I’m not even competent enough to run a presentation.

Jungkook started to spiral, no longer aware of what was going on around him. The events of the day caught up to him and it was all too much.

“Jungkook? Jungkook? Can you hear me? I need you to breathe,” Jimin tried to get his friend’s attention, but it didn’t seem to be doing any good. One minute the younger man was doing semi-okay, and the next, Jungkook was having trouble breathing. Jimin had no idea what was happening or what to do.

Jimin was about to pull out his phone and call one of his boyfriends when the man sitting across from the two of them got out of his seat and crouched in front of Jimin and Jungkook.

“Your friend’s in a stage four subdrop. Does he have a dom I can call that can meet us at the next stop?” the man asked, looking up at Jimin.

Subdrop? Dom? Jungkook was a neutral. How was he in a subdrop?

A flash of shock ran over the man’s face before he quickly schooled his features.

“Neutral or not, he’s in a stage four subdrop. If he doesn’t have a dom, he needs to go to the hospital or a care center. Or, I can help, if you’d let me,” the man spoke before patting himself down to find his wallet before he pulled it out and grabbed an ID card to hand to Jimin. “My name is Min Yoongi. I’m a certified dom care specialist. Here’s my official government ID stating that. If you scan that code at the bottom there, you can visit the government website to verify all the information. I know how scary it can be to trust a dom you don’t know.”

Still slightly in shock, Jimin pulled out his phone and scanned the code. If he was going to help Jungkook, he was at least going to make sure this man wasn’t a serial killer or something.

The government website loaded, and Jimin quickly scanned the page. There was a photo of Yoongi, along with all his demographic information, as well as specialities and a row of reviews at the bottom. He had five stars, so he must be okay, right?

“Please help him,” Jimin pleaded, looking back up at the man. At Yoongi. “I don’t know what’s happening or what caused it. He’s a neutral. I saw the test results myself. He seemed a little out of it when I met up with him after work, but he’s had days before where he’s been like that, though never near this bad. And then when that lady started screaming, then I felt him flinch and then he just started panicking!”

Yoongi nodded along.

“What’s your friend’s name?”

“Jungkook. And I’m Jimin.”

“Okay, good. Thank you for telling me, Jimin,” Yoongi reassured, knowing that he needed to comfort Jimin as well before things got out of hand and he had two subdrop cases on his hands. “Is it alright if I touch Jungkook?”

Jimin quickly nodded.

“Okay, good. Thank you.”

Yoongi reached out to take both of Jungkook’s hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs along the top.

“Jungkook, I know you can hear me. I’m going to need you to listen to my voice, and only my voice. Can you squeeze my hands?” Yoongi asked.

It took a few seconds, but Jungkook was able to lightly squeeze the older man’s hands.

“Good. You’re doing so good,” Yoongi praised. “My name is Yoongi. I’m going to help you, okay? Can you squeeze my hands again if you understand?”

A few seconds later, Jungkook repeated his earlier action.

“That’s great, Jungkook,” Yoongi continued. “Now we’re going to try and get a hold on your breathing. I’m going to count for you, and we’re going to breathe in for four, hold for seven, and then breathe out for eight. Do you think you can do that?”

Jungkook squeezed Yoongi’s hands without prompting.

“Great. You’re doing so great, Jungkook,” Yoongi reassured. “Now, here we go.”

Yoongi talked Jungkook through a few rounds of breathing, never stopping running his thumbs over the tops of Jungkook’s hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jimin’s sharp eyes on him, but he kept his focus on Jungkook for now.

A few minutes later, Jungkook had a better hold on his breathing, though his chest still felt tight.

“You’re doing amazing, Jungkook,” Yoongi praised after Jungkook was able to suck in a full breath without help. He then turned to Jimin. “Can you pull the cord for the next stop? My care center is right across the street, and I think it’d be best if we took him there and off the bus. And I can take him to my designated room to continue to help, or if you’d prefer, we can get another certified dom to help him.”

Jimin nodded, reaching his hand up to pull the cord for the next stop. Yoongi then turned back to Jungkook.

“Does that sound okay, Jungkook? I want to make sure you’re still comfortable. If at any point anything I do isn’t okay, then I need you to let me know. You won’t hurt my feelings and I won’t get upset,” Yoongi said softly.

Jungkook started to pull one of his hands out of Yoongi’s hold, and Yoongi’s heart dropped, thinking he’d already screwed up by holding the younger man’s hands. But Jungkook lifted his hand and pointed at Yoongi.

After a moment, Yoongi realized what Jungkook meant.

“You want me?”

Jungkook squeezed his hand that was still in Yoongi’s grip before slipping his other hand back into the dom’s hold.

“Okay, that’s great, Jungkook,” Yoongi said, relieved. “Now I’m going to tell you a bit about what’s going to happen when we get there, okay? Just so you know what to expect, and so does Jimin here. He’s been such an amazing friend, wanting to make sure that you're safe, hasn’t he?”

Squeeze.

Yoongi smiled. At least they weren’t having any trouble communicating even though it seemed like Jungkook was nonverbal in a drop. It wasn’t his first nonverbal sub, but every one was different.

“First, we’re going to get you checked in. That shouldn’t take long, and if Jimin could help out with the forms while I take you back to my room, then we’ll be all set.” Yoongi looked over at Jimin who nodded. Turning back to Jungkook, Yoongi continued,” Then we’re going to get you settled in my room. I have the softest blanket with your name written all over it.”

Jungkook perked up a bit. A soft and fluffy blanket sounded great right about now. Finally coming back into his body after the panic attack, Jungkook realized he was shivering.

Yoongi smiled at the reaction to the mention of the blanket. His room was completely covered in soft things for this exact reason.

“Once we get you all nice and warm, we’ll get you a snack. How does hot chocolate and a cookie sound? Our kitchen makes the best chocolate chip cookies you’ve ever tasted,” Yoongi gushed.

Jungkook squeezed his hands, and as if in agreement, his stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t had any lunch.

“Does he have any allergies that I should be aware of?” Yoongi asked, turning to Jimin, who shook his head.

“Okay, good. Then after that, we’ll get our cuddle on and see if we can bring you back up. Does that all sound okay, Jungkook?” Yoongi asked.

Jungkook squeezed again, this time a little harder. Everything Yoongi described sounded amazing.

The bus started to slow down and Yoongi looked up.

“Perfect timing. Here’s our stop. Can you stand up for me, Jungkook? I’ll hold your hand the entire time,” Yoongi reassured.

With the help of Jimin, Jungkook was able to get to his feet. Moving them seemed daunting, but with a squeeze from Yoongi and Jimin at his other side, they helped him to the exit.

Luckily, the bus stop was right in front of the care center.

“Hi, Yoongi! Who’s this?” the receptionist at the front desk greeted them once they entered. Once he got a good look at Jungkook, his expression turned to one of worry.

“Hi, Namjoon. This is Jungkook and Jimin,” Yoongi replied, introducing the other two men. “Jungkook here is in a stage four drop, and I’m going to take him back to my room while Jimin fills out his paperwork.”

“Oh my! Of course!” Namjoon quickly turned back to his desk and shuffled around to find the right papers.

“I’ll come get you when he’s back up, okay?” Yoongi asked Jimin, knowing the other man would probably be worrying until he could see that Jungkook was alright. Jimin nodded in understanding. “Do you have a dom you can call while you wait? It’s been a stressful afternoon, and I want to make sure you’re going to be okay, too.”

“Yeah, I can call my boyfriend. I’ll need to let him know where we are anyways since he’ll be expecting me at home,” Jimin replied.

“Okay, good. You’ve done a great job getting help for your friend, Jimin. He’s safe now, so you can relax and know that you’ve done the right thing,” Yoongi praised.

Jimin’s cheeks turned pink at the praise, and he smiled shyly in thanks.

“Now let’s go get you that blanket,” Yoongi smiled and turned to Jungkook.

Jungkook was aware of what was happening, but it was like he was seeing it through a heavy fog. He knew Yoongi brought him back to a room and settled him onto the bed in the center of the room, but he wouldn’t be able to tell you what the room looked like or even the color of the walls.

Then, he registered the warmth surrounding his entire body. No longer having Yoongi’s hands to hold on to (he may have whined when Yoongi let go of them to grab the blanket, though he’d never admit it), Jungkook reached his hands out, but they ran into the softest material he’d ever felt. His fingers quickly gripped onto it, wanting to feel as much of the soft material as he could. He even lifted it up to run it over his cheeks a few times.

The fog lifted just the tiniest bit now that he was warm and knew that he was safe with Yoongi. Jungkook didn’t remember everything the dom had said on the bus, but he knew Yoongi had told him he was good, which made him feel warm inside.

“Can you open your mouth for me? I got your hot chocolate and a fresh chocolate chip cookie for you,” Jungkook managed to hear through the fog. Oh yeah! Yoongi had promised him a cookie! He quickly opened his mouth, feeling like a baby bird.

A warm cup was brought to his mouth and slowly tipped forward. Jungkook hungrily swallowed it down. Maybe he was just super hungry, but it was the best hot chocolate he’d ever tasted. Now he was warming up from the inside and out.

After taking a few sips of the warm drink, the cup was pulled away, and Jungkook let out another small whine. He didn’t have time to be embarrassed, as Yoongi told him to open his mouth again. Jungkook quickly complied, hoping for more hot chocolate. Instead, a small bite of cookie was placed on his lips. Jungkook quickly took it and ate it. Yoongi was right; this really was the best chocolate chip cookie ever.

After he swallowed, Jungkook didn’t wait for the instruction to open his mouth again and did it himself, not caring if he got another bite of cookie or a drink of the hot chocolate; either would be amazing.

Yoongi continued feeding Jungkook until the hot chocolate and cookie were gone. Jungkook was sad when he finished, but his stomach was no longer yelling at him, and he felt warm inside and out. The fog lifted a little more.

Strong arms wrapped around Jungkook after another moment and pulled him back against the fluffiest pillows he’d ever felt. Jungkook never wanted to leave this room. His bed in his own apartment was like a prison cell compared to this one.

Yoongi pulled Jungkook closer to his body, and Jungkook laid his head on the dom’s chest. He registered that the man was talking by the rumbling in his chest, but he couldn’t tell what he was saying. Surrounded by warmth, with food in his stomach, and a dom watching over him, the fog no longer seemed bad and Jungkook felt like he was floating. He let himself drift for a bit, knowing Yoongi would take care of him.

What could’ve been minutes or hours, Jungkook felt the fog start to lift, and his limbs no longer felt so heavy.

“Are you coming back to me, Jungkook?” Yoongi’s voice rumbled from beside him. “You’ve been doing so well, such a good boy.”

Jungkook preened at the words. He never knew he wanted, no needed, to be called a good boy until now. He nodded, remembering that Yoongi had asked him a question.

“Good boy,” Yoongi repeated. “Since you’re starting to come back up, we’re going to do a couple of exercises, okay?”

Jungkook nodded again, not really sure what to expect, but he knew that he’d do anything to be called a good boy again.

Yoongi reached down and pulled the blanket up a little so that Jungkook’s feet were sticking out.

“Can you wiggle your toes for me?” Yoongi requested.

It seemed like forever since Jungkook felt like he’d had control over his limbs, so it took a few seconds, but he was able to move his toes back and forth.

“Good boy. Now can you move both your feet?”

Jungkook complied, moving both in circles.

“You’re doing such a good job,” Yoongi continued. “Now, can you wiggle your legs for me?”

Jungkook followed the request and shook his legs. He was starting to gain more feeling back in his limbs, and it felt good.

Yoongi continued on with his requests, moving from his fingers, to arms, all the way up to his head. Jungkook listened every time and moved as he was asked.

“You did great, Jungkook,” Yoongi praised. “Now, do you think you’ll be able to tell me how you’re feeling?”

Jungkook thought for a moment. He remembered how thick his tongue had felt in his mouth earlier and how difficult it was to force his jaw to move. Jungkook stretched his jaw a little, noticing that he was able to move with ease now.

“I’m still feeling a little floaty, but I feel a lot better,” Jungkook spoke for the first time since he’d left for the bus stop with Jimin.

“That’s totally normal,” Yoongi replied.

“What exactly happened to me? I’ve never felt like that before?” Jungkook asked.

“You were in a sub drop,” Yoongi spoke, continuing quickly once he noticed Jungkook opening his mouth to argue. “I know, Jimin told me you were a neutral, but I think that’s not the case. It’s not entirely unheard of for neutrals to go into sub drop, but it’s extremely rare, and never to that effect. I honestly think that your original test results were wrong and that it might be a good idea to get retested. We can do it here if you’d like.”

Jungkook was in shock. He’d spent his entire adult life thinking he was a neutral. How had he survived without having scenes? And how was his test wrong? It was never wrong!

“I know it’s a shock, but the test can be wrong. It doesn’t happen that often, but it does happen. Sometimes, people are just late bloomers and the test doesn’t catch it,” Yoongi answered Jungkook’s thoughts unknowingly. “Would you like us to do a quick blood test here? While you wait, I can bring Jimin back here. I know he’s been super worried about you.”

At the mention of his friend, Jungkook perked up. Jimin must’ve been so worried!

“Okay, let’s do the test,” Jungkook consented.

“Great. I’ll go get the nurse to come and draw your blood and grab Jimin on my way back,” Yoongi said.

The dom then began to pull away from Jungkook, which is when the younger man noticed that they had been cuddling this entire time they talked, and Jungkook blushed. When he had started to come back to himself, he had never felt more comfortable, safe, and warm in his life, and it was all because he was cuddling up to Yoongi’s chest.

Jungkook watched the dom leave, pulling the blanket back around himself. It was still super warm, and he loved the clean detergent smell.

A few moments later, a nurse knocked on the door. She was quick in her work, drawing the blood and leaving soon after. Jungkook was nervous. He didn’t know what he was hoping the outcome would be, if he was honest with himself.

Not long after the nurse shut the door behind her, it opened again and Jimin poked his head into the room.

“Jungkook!” Jimin cried, not wasting any time in running across the room and throwing himself on top of Jungkook. “You’re okay! I was so worried! Yoongi told me what happened. I’m so sorry that I didn’t see what was happening and couldn’t be more help!”

Jungkook pulled his friend into a hug before wrapping the blanket into a cocoon around the two of them.

“You did nothing wrong,” Jungkook reassured. “How could you have known that I was in a sub drop if we thought I was a neutral? And you did help! You let Yoongi help me.”

Jimin squeezed the younger man tighter.

“I never want that to happen again.” Jungkook could hear the pout in Jimin’s voice, even though he couldn’t see the older man’s face as it was buried in his shoulder.

“If you are a sub, we are going to find you a dom. I don’t care if it’s Hobi who needs to help you out, you’re never going through that again,” Jimin demanded, offering up his own boyfriend and dom in the process.

“If I am a sub,” Jungkook started slowly, “I think I wouldn’t mind seeing Yoongi as a dom, if he’ll have me.”

Jungkook felt heat rise to his cheeks at the admission. Granted, he’d never had any experience with a dom in a scene before, but Jungkook liked the way that Yoongi had made him feel. And if he’d been able to see the signs of a sub drop and pull Jungkook out of it in a safe manner, he had to be a good dom during a scene, right?

“Ooo, someone has a crush,” Jimin lightly teased.

“I do not,” Jungkook tried to deny, but he knew Jimin didn’t believe him for a second. He didn’t believe himself.

The two friends continued to cuddle together under the warmth of the blanket until another knock sounded at the door.

“We have your test results back, Jungkook,” Yoongi spoke softly as he stepped into the room holding a folder. He held it out to Jungkook once he got closer to the pair, and the two sat up as Jungkook reached for the folder.

“Are you ready?” Jimin asked once Jungkook had the folder in his hands. Jimin could see that the younger man’s hands were shaking slightly. “You know I love you no matter what, right? You’re my Jungkookie, and that’s never going to change.”

Jungkook looked up at Jimin and nodded, tears forming in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall right now.

Taking a deep breath, Jungkook opened the folder.

In big block letters across the top was the word Submissive. On the second row, after the words ‘Submissive Ranking’, there was the number eight.

The rest of the page went into detail about what the information meant, including the ranking and what his options were, but Jungkook didn’t read them. His eyes focused on his status and ranking, still in shock.

How had he survived this long as an eight? He should’ve needed scenes at least a couple times a week!

Numb, Jungkook handed the folder over to Jimin, who gasped in shock.

“An eight?” Jimin asked, dumbfounded. He was a six himself, and he couldn’t go more than a week without a scene, and yet here Jungkook was, an eight, and he’d never had a scene before.

At Jungkook’s nod of approval, Jimin handed the folder over to Yoongi, who was just as shocked.

He then set the folder aside and sat down beside the two boys and wrapped his arm around Jungkook’s shoulder.

“First, I want to say how brave you’ve been today,” Yoongi started. “You’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster, and you’ve handled it like a champ. Second, I think you should make an appointment with a doctor as soon as you can, just to make sure you have no bad side effects from lack of scenes or that there’s nothing else going on.”

At Jungkook’s nod, Yoongi continued, “Third, as a professional care dom, I’m going to recommend you make an appointment with a dom as soon as possible, unless you already know somebody.”

Jungkook shook his head this time.

“Okay, that’s okay. Thank you for telling me,” Yoongi reassured. “If you’d like to continue your care here, we can make you an appointment on the way out. It doesn’t even have to be with me; you can look through our directory and we can find a great dom for you.”

Jungkook quickly shook his head. He didn’t want another dom; he wanted Yoongi.

“You.”

“I’d love to have you as a submissive,” Yoongi replied, trying to hide his smile. He wouldn’t admit it, but he would’ve been heartbroken if the boy had chosen someone else. He’d only known Jungkook for a very short period of time, but Yoongi knew that he would be a great submissive, and it didn’t hurt that he was super cute. Yoongi would especially love if he got to know the sub outside of scenes as well. Something was telling him that this sub would become an important part of his life.

“Okay, let’s go make that appointment! Hobi’s waiting for us in the lobby to take us home!” Jimin said excitedly.

The three made their way back to the front desk. This time, Jungkook was more aware, and tried to remember how to get back to Yoongi’s room. Hopefully he’d be seeing it again really soon.

An appointment with Yoongi was made for two days later, and Jungkook couldn’t wait. Namjoon promised to email Jungkook with all the paperwork that he would need to fill out before he came.

“I’ll see you in two days, but if you start to feel like you did earlier, please call. It doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of the night, someone will answer and get you forwarded to my cell,” Yoongi said.

“I promise, I’ll call if I need to,” Jungkook agreed. “See you in two days?”

“See you in two days.”

Jimin then practically dragged Jungkook out of the care center, rambling on about how Jungkook was going to spend the night at his apartment and how they were going to cuddle the entire night. That sounded like a good plan to Jungkook, and he didn’t argue.

Before the door slammed shut behind them, Jungkook turned around to get one more peek at Yoongi. The dom waved goodbye, and Jungkook’s cheeks pinked at being caught. He quickly raised his hand to wave back. Two days couldn’t pass by soon enough.

As Jimin continued to list off the things that they were going to do that night, Jungkook realized that maybe his day wasn’t so crappy after all.

Me? Writing a completely new fic instead of updating my WIP? More likely than you think? I hope this is actually good. I had this idea after reading another fic, and just loved the idea and had to write it. Let me know what you think!

And if you're reading my Untitled Vampire AU, I am actually in the process of doing a slight rewrite of the parts currently published, and then I want to write the rest of the story before I actually post any more parts, so that way when I post again, you all don't have to wait months until another part; I can just post them back to back.

Let me know what you think of this! And follow me on twitter (@/yoongismandu) or check me out on ao3 (@/newtmasofficial). Both are linked in my masterlist.

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