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cno-inbminor · 3 years ago

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iterum vivere (childe/tartaglia)

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

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

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

wc: 12.1k; angst + fluff

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

EDIT: Altered ChiLumi version now posted on AO3 here!

“Haven’t we met before?”

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

“A fucking whale, Childe?”

Oh.

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

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

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

“History and anthropology, you?”

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

“With Dr. Zhong?”

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

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

“Did you need me for anything?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So why ask me about the mythology?”

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

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

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

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

“Some.”

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

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

Or do they douse you in security?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me, what’s a Red Bull?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay!”

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

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

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

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

“Thank you!”

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

“Wait, what’s your name again?”

“It’s (Y/n).”

“Okay, (y/n)! Wait…(y/n)..as in…”

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

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

Oh. Oh dear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good heavens.

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

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

You can’t stay here any longer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hold the fuck up.

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

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

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

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

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

“For them and their twin?”

“And quite a comfortable futon with enough blankets.”

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

Laughing. Loving. Grinning. Basking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Happy Holidays, Ajax ^^”

There is hope.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You want him to. So, so bad.

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

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

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

“Found you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I did. You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like to think that we will.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything makes sense now.

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

“I love you too?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mora for your thoughts?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, Archons.

“ -ou okay, Ajax? Ajax?”

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

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

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

Wait.

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

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

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

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

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

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

fin

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

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elysianslove · 4 years ago

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Hiii! I loved your Iwa fluff headcanons and was wondering if you could do one with Suna? thanks <3

yesyesyes i would love to!!! iwaizumi’s version.

↬ when suna was younger, he really, really wanted a pet bunny. like he really, really loved bunnies, and would beg his parents day and night for one. he even made a really badly edited powerpoint on bunnies and why he deserves one (aside the editing, it was a very persuasive powerpoint. they filmed him while he presented it and the video haunts him to this day). his parents were relentless, though, and didn’t get him his bunny. instead, though, they surprised him with a cat. a cat isn’t as high maintenance since they’re very independent creatures, but can also be very fun. they figured any pet would make him happy. they were wrong. suna hated her so much and would never interact with her. like to the point where he nicknamed her “bitch” and now she mainly answers to that instead of her name. but all that only worked against him, and the cat just kept getting more and more attached to him.

↬ suna now loves her so much, and she’s just as attached to him. like he would kill for her, honestly. it’s his cat >>> everyone else. he has an album on his phone dedicated to pictures and videos of only her, and her bed is in his room because she always ends up sleeping there anyways. he realized later on when he grew older that a cat was the perfect animal for him, and he’s not sure if it’s a parents thing and they really knew or they were just winging it and hoping for the best, but she’s his favorite ever and he would risk it all for her.

↬ his favorite sleeping position with her would be when he’s casually laying on his back scrolling through his phone and she comes and crawls along him to lay on his chest. the warmth he feels within his chest like he just gets so giddy.

↬ suna is crazy obsessed with serial killer documentaries, horror movies, unsolved mysteries, everything like that. his favorite pastime is watching and reading these things, but honestly, it’s not even a like, “wow that’s so cool,” and more of a, “suna what is wrong with you???” type of thing, because he’s the type to have like insidious 2 in the background as he does his homework or gets ready or something. it’s kind of scary how unfazed he is with things like that.

↬ but! yeah he’s extremely brave when it comes to horror movies, borderline unhinged, but his biggest fear? his phobia, if you will? spiders. insects in general, really. he will scream like a sixth grader that’s yet to hit puberty if he sees a spider crawling near him. once he was peeing in the miya twins’ bathroom and some kind of cockroach crawling on the wall and nearly fainted. thank god he was already peeing because he would’ve pissed his pants either way. it’s so embarrassing for him, so he’s so good at hiding it. he just freezes impossibly when he notices an insect and doesn’t take his eye off of it until someone else notices it and kills it. there was this instance when they were at a training camp and he kept feeling as if something was crawling on him, but assumed it was just really hot and his skin was tingling from that. something was crawling on him, though, and it was not just really hot. Top 10 Most Traumatic Moments of his life, especially because atsumu’s first instinct was to record the whole thing.

↬ suna is extremely, and i mean extremely, touch-starved. physical touch has always made him uncomfortable for a reason unknown to him, so he never really accepted hugs or kisses from his family, and would feel so icky if he was roped into a group hug b by his teammates. so when he met you, he thought you’d be so against the fact that he’s uncomfortable with it, because who would want a partner that doesn’t wanna touch or be touched? turns out he actually craves it, and needs it badly, he just needed to take his own time and pace approaching it, and with how understanding you were, he doubted he could ever figure this out without you. he just took it slow, you know? but the more he touched you — held your hand, pinched your cheek, rested his head on your shoulder, pecked your lips for a few seconds longer than last time — the more he wanted you.

↬ when suna became comfortable with the thought and idea that yeah, he actually craves physical touch so damn bad, he wouldn’t stop touching you every second he could. he became insanely clingy, no matter if you were in public or alone. just always has a hand on you at all times. when he’s alone with you, he’s always trying to cuddle with you. you wanna sit and chill on your phone and not really talk? sure, just come do it with your head on his chest. you wanna watch a movie and munch on some popcorn and possibly share a drink? of course he’d love to! just come sit between his legs with your popcorn on your lap so he can steal some and also offer you some sips from the drink. you don’t wanna hug him after a game cause he’s too sweaty? that’s too bad, he wasn’t asking for permission. so you see, suna is a clingy mf. like latches onto you like a koala clingy <3

↬ suna’s music taste is very diverse. his favorite genre is alternative and rock, like the neighborhood, arctic monkeys, etc, but he also loves, loves loves glitchcore music, but also will un-ironically listen to kpop, and rap, and hannah montana’s old music too because why not. he just doesn’t care. if a song is good, it’s good. so what if it caters to a bunch of 12 year olds and not him? who decides that anyways?

↬ suna is very good at hair. like so good. as his sister started to get older, and her hair grew longer, she would sometimes ask him to do it for her before school. at first he was terrible at it, except maybe ponytails cause his hair was long enough at some point to push back into a ponytail, but everything else like parting her hair for pigtails or doing braids or a bun… he was just awful. so, in response, he’d just practice. he’d watch videos as he’s doing his little sister’s hair and be so focused, with his tongue sticking out a little and his eyes squinting as he tries to get it accurate. eventually, he becomes a master at it! you find this out when one day, as you’re just over at his house, his sister comes into his room with a hair tie and a brush and he just carries her up onto his lap and braids her hair as he chats with you and it was so endearing and so impressive and you genuinely believe that was the moment you realized you were in love with him.

↬ he offers to do your hair for you all the time now!! especially if you’ve just showered and are too lazy to brush it and tie it in some way, so he does it for you. he’s actually so, very gentle when brushing your hair, you don’t even feel a thing. if anything, it makes you really sleepy.

↬ when he joined the national team and started to become more and more of a public figure, he’d send you really explicit fan art of him and other teammates he was shipped with just to piss you off. if he was feeling really bold, he’d send you smut written about him. he says he wants to make you jealous. he just wants to provoke you in every way possible, really. one time someone made an edit plot twisting you and him to him and like atsumu so he downloaded video star and made such a bad edit of you and him and posted it on his twitter and instagram and it went viral. like it was one of those edits of just pictures flipping and hearts flashing and lights spasming all over the screen it was so bad it made you cry with laughter. that was his way of telling the world, no one but this person for me, right here <3

↬ i think he’d be very good at doing chores and cleaning and all that, despite how lazy he is. i just think it’s a habit kind of thing, where he grew up doing laundry and making his bed and cleaning his room and washing the dishes that he genuinely doesn’t mind doing it cause it’s natural for him. and he’s learnt to enjoy it.

↬ suna’s favorite color was deep, deep purple at some point, but now it’s between green and black.

↬ he’s caught up with all seasons of keeping up with the kardashians. please don’t ask him why, he doesn’t even know.

↬ once when you were out with him you just gave him a rock that was on the floor and he’s kept that rock with him ever since. like it’s in the drawer next to his bed and sometimes he just takes it out and holds it in his hand while he’s doing homework or scrolling through his phone.

↬ he spams you a lot. like at any time time of the day he just sends you a million videos of him doing the most mundane things; he sends you a video of him eating some almonds and at the end it’s just him going, “i’s good,” or him lip-syncing a song you sent him to listen to, or him trying to do eyeliner because why not. or maybe it’s pictures of him and it’s always ridiculous: him exaggerating him thinking, and then captioning it “thinking,” or just a picture of him on the roof with a peace sign and a pretty smile, or a close up photo of his face saying, “miss u.”

↬ he also spams you with memes all the time. and there’s no set type, it’s just all kinds. really corny memes and really cursed memes, wholesome memes and also memes that bully you. it’s all about the versatility.

↬ suna loves to sleep, he really does, but before meeting you, the only place where he could properly fall into a deep sleep was his bed. after meeting you, anywhere where you were next to him was the perfect place to sleep. if he had your presence near him he could sleep, it didn’t matter, especially if he was resting on your lap or shoulder or gripping onto your hand or resting his legs on your lap. he just wants you close to him, you know? like he feels so safe and comfortable when you’re around, it kind of scares him if he’s honest.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #suna x reader #suna headcanons #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro headcanons #suna fluff #sal's fluff tag <3

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verai-marcel · 3 years ago

Text

Forever and Always (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur x F!Reader)

Summary: You reminisce about your life and have a sweet moment with your family.

Author’s Notes: I was listening to a podcast about wedding dress design and got inspired.

Tags: pure fluff, Arthur x F!Reader

Word Count: 1644

AO3 Link is right here, darlin’.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Twenty-five years.

A quarter of a century.

Funny how time flies, and all of a sudden you're nearly fifty years old. Looking back, you can see the crazy turn of events in your life like some kind of movie, detached and yet feeling every single emotion as if you were there in that moment.

***

Fresh out of college, you remembered the night you found your partner sleeping with your roommate. The white hot rage and cold grip of disbelief sent you fleeing into the rain, into the streets, into a bar in the middle of the night. As you meandered between sadness and anger, a bartender had given you a cold glass of orange juice, soda water, and a bit of ice, with a shot of grenadine.

"Here ya go, sweetheart. On the house."

You had looked up and drowned in eyes the color of volcanic springs, finding the same warmth and comfort in his kind gaze. Taking a cautious sip of the drink, you found it to be the perfect drink, not too sweet, and took your time savoring it.

"What brings you here tonight?" he had asked.

After a moment of silence, he held up his hand. "You don't need to tell me if you don't want to."

He leaned in close. "But I'm happy to listen, whenever yer ready."

His sweet smile undid you, and you poured out your heart. He seemed to nod along with your story, as a stranger would, but there was a steadily growing fire in his eyes. After a while, after a few interruptions from other customers ordering drinks, you had finished venting, nursing the last of your drink and debating what your next move should be.

"Alright folks, last call!" the bartender shouted. A few people came up and got one last drink before he started to clean up.

"Well, thank you for listening to me," you said, dropping a tip on the bar. "I really appreciate it."

"I didn't catch yer name."

You told him.

He smiled. "I'm Arthur. Could… could ya wait a bit? I'll walk you home."

You slumped. "I don't want to go home."

Arthur raised an eyebrow at you. "Where were you goin' to go, then?"

You shrugged. "Walk around until sunrise, I guess. Not feeling sleepy."

He tilted his head as he observed you. After a few moments, he shook his head. "If you don't mind, you can come sleep on my couch. You need some rest, darlin'."

"Um…" As sweet as he was, you had just met him.

Arthur pulled out a pen and scribbled something on the back of a bar coaster before giving it to you. "Here's my address. You send it to someone you trust, so they know where you are."

Touched by his offer and his understanding of your hesitation, you agreed. You texted his address to your best friend who lived a city away and told her that you were staying with a new friend and that you'd call her in the morning and tell her everything.

Then you waited until Arthur was done with his shift and followed him home.

***

That was years ago. He had helped you deal with the whole situation with your ex-significant other and ex-roommate. He stood outside as backup while you confronted the two of them and told them that you were leaving. Then you found yourself temporarily moving in with Arthur, bunking on his sleeper sofa for a couple of weeks while you searched for another place to live.

And then you slept in his bed. And your temporary move became permanent.

Life continued. You slept together, in the adult sense of the term. You got pregnant. You dated. You gave birth. He proposed. You got married. He finished college. You became the breadwinner while he worked part time and took care of your daughter.

Nothing went in the 'normal' order of things, but what was normal, anyway?

Looking at the photos of your wonderful daughter when she was a small child, you smiled as you heard the doorbell ring.

"Hey Mom!"

"Hi Avery!" You greeted her with a warm hug. She was twenty-three now, working hard during her first year out of college. You got to see her a couple times a month, and each visit made you smile, no matter how grumpy she might be.

Today the two of you were just hanging out, having tea and going through some of the old boxes in the attic, when she pulled out an old scrapbook.

"Wow, didn't know you did scrapbooking."

"I didn't, I only made one for my wedding."

Together the two of you looked through your silly notes and hand picked photos, telling her the story behind each one, and who each person was.

"Do you still have your wedding dress?" she asked after seeing the photos of you and Arthur, dressed up in a tuxedo that barely fit his broad shoulders.

"I do, somewhere."

After some time searching, you found it, brushed it off, and held it up to your body. "I don't think it'll fit, I've gotten a bit wider since I wore it."

"C'mon Mom, just try it!"

Smiling, the two of you went to your bedroom and you managed to shove yourself mostly into the dress. Except for the shoulders.

"I've gotten more buff," you joked as you pulled the dress off yourself. "You try it."

Avery took the dress, stared at it for a moment, and with your help, pulled it on. It looked like it fit, until she moved her arms.

The sound of a seam ripping made you both pause.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry–"

You patted her shoulder. "It's fine, sweetie. It's just a dress, it can be fixed. And you look beautiful in it."

Your daughter grinned, and you could see Arthur's eyes and smile on her face.

After she spun around a few times, she took it off and handed it back to you. Out of curiosity, you checked which seams had torn.

"It might fit you now," Avery joked.

"Sure, why not?"

You pulled it back on, and sure enough, the seams that had torn were the very ones stopping you from fitting your thicker arms through. You turned around and looked in the mirror. Twirling around a bit, you suddenly felt young again, remembering the first time you had tried this dress. Your two closest friends had been by your side, encouraging you to buy the dress because you were so pleased with it.

And you remembered the last time you had worn this dress, walking down the aisle with Arthur, hand in hand, the two of you grinning at each other as if there was nothing else in the world, just the two of you, happily in love.

"Let's take some photos outside!" Avery suggested, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm.

Smiling at your daughter, you walked through your house and out to the small backyard that Arthur lovingly cared for, with a small waterfall and herb garden.

He was there, kneeling in the dirt, planting some new basil plants. He turned around at the sound of the back door opening.

"What're you two doin'–"

Arthur's words stopped abruptly as his jaw dropped. He hadn't seen you in that dress since the wedding, and for him, time stopped and all he saw was his beautiful lady, dressed in white, smiling like a goddess.

He quickly washed his hands with the garden hose, wiped them on his jeans, and came towards you.

"Beautiful, just like an angel," he said in awe.

You went to him, holding your hands out to him. He took them and brought them close to his heart before lifting your hands to his lips and kissing your fingers oh so so tenderly.

"Amazin', I feel the same as I did on our weddin' day, seein' you like this."

"I'm a little wider now…"

"That don't matter none," he said, leaning closer to you. His forehead touched yours and he looked into your eyes. "Yer always lovely."

"Awww!"

Avery's exclamation brought the two of you back to reality. She had her phone out and had been taking photos of the two of you, a giant grin on her face.

"I'll send these to you later, after I touch them up a bit," she said. "I, uh, got an errand to run. Bye Dad, bye Mom, I'll catch you later!"

She left, giving you a conspiratorial wink. You looked back at Arthur to find that his eyes hadn't left you for a single moment.

He was in his late fifties now, streaks of grey in his hair, giving him a sophisticated appearance. He smiled much more these days, finding happiness in tending his small garden and being outside in the sunlight. He was still strong, still broad shouldered, but he had filled out a little from your delicious home cooked meals.

And he still looked at you like you were his entire world.

"Should we go inside?" you asked with a mischievous smirk.

"I got mud on me," he said, although he didn't resist when you pulled him into the house.

"I'll get you all clean," you said. "Then we can get dirty."

"Darlin'," he said as if he was chastising you, yet he was chuckling softly as he let you lead the way.

***

That night, looking at the photos Avery had emailed, you realized how the two of you appeared, so deep in love. You both looked younger in her photos, and you wondered if it was because of the photo editing.

Showing Arthur, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, his whiskers scraping your skin lightly as he nuzzled you.

"See? Told you my feelin's fer you would never change." He pulled you into his arms and held you close.

"You'll always be my shinin' star."

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

End Notes: I started with a small idea and it kinda got longer. Oops.

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #RDR2 fanfic #arthur x fem!reader #Writing #Fanfic #Fluff

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saladejin · 4 years ago

Text

Body Pillow

Taehyung x Reader requested by anon (May) | 27.) First cuddle

Warnings: Literally fluff and gentle pining, drunken shenanigans

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: This is poorly edited, oh god.

I give up on trying to teach myself what a drabble is, because idk if I’ll ever understand what it means to write a DRABBLE. Anyway this is hella overdue but I’m still working on these cuddle prompts! Hope anonnie May is still around to read this horrible mess 🥺💕

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

<< prompt list >>

Wow, you were getting sleepy.

It was the alcohol, no doubt about it, but for some reason this time getting tipsy felt a little different. Usually you were quite reserved and withdrawn when mixing alcohol and social interactions, but tonight it was just you, your roommate Jimin and his close group of friends having a pizza night in.

Well, after half a year of getting to know them they'd fast become friends of yours as well, but they were still a pack of loud, goofy college boys that drove you mad with their testosterone stink 90% of the time. You really did have to take them in small doses to begin with, but all seven were amazingly driven people through and through. You loved them for it, and honestly sometimes you really just needed to be in their presence to relax and de-stress.

Like right now, actually.

You were drunker than usual, and it all had to do with the fact that you were relaxed. Carefree and laughing up a storm with the boys as they joked and hollered over whatever video game or story was being played out. For the first time in a while ... you could simply chill.

Yeah, chill out. Not zone the hell out.

You blinked harshly, eyes coming back into focus as a hand waved in front of your face cautiously, and all of a sudden a handsome view leaned into your field of vision. "Hellooo? You're so fucked honey." Taehyung chuckled, eyes crinkling in amusement as he shared a glance with Yoongi behind him.

"I'm- no way," you huffed, trying to downplay the way your cheeks were heating up at his proximity by slapping his hand away.

"Okay, but you're getting there." Yoongi stepped forward and nudged Taehyung back to reach for your plastic cup. "We know you're not used to having this much so just slow down, alright?"

Any other day you would've been frustrated at how the two boys seemed to baby you, but it was clear by their smiles that they were also getting some enjoyment out of it. In all honesty, you were having a great time and you had to admit that ruining it all by blacking out or making a mess was the last thing you wanted to do.

You'd still only known them all for a few months, so you didn't want to somehow damage the already comfortable relationships you'd built in such a short time.

"Okay, you're right." You let Yoongi lift the drink away from you, trying not to smile when Taehyung lightly chuckled again at the way you swayed in your seat. The other boys were already getting loud once more as Jungkook overtook Jimin in Mario Kart, the whooping and shouts of anger mostly coming from the remaining onlookers, Hobi, Namjoon and Seokjin.

You grabbed another slice of pizza from the table and stepped around Taehyung to reclaim your spot next to Jimin, feeling the younger's eyes burn into your back the entire way.

Thankfully, Yoongi and Tae had forced you to take a break at the perfect moment, because you were really feeling buzzed now. It was an oddly euphoric sensation, feeling the world spin ever so slightly with laughter falling from your lips for barely any reason at all. Why hadn't you done this with them sooner?

"A package? Well it's not for me..."

Your eyes flew open upon hearing Jimin hum from the front door, lightly slurred tone curious and confused. The rest of you who were gathered in the living room fell quiet as the murmurs of conversation between him and the delivery man came to an end.

There’s a package at the door?

Then your brain cells finally kicked into gear, because oh … it was also your door.

"Wait, it's mine then." You shakily tried to put your glass of water on the table to get up, and Namjoon tutted in disapproval while darting out a hand to steady your drunk form as you rose. The faces of the other boys swam in your vision for a moment since you'd been sitting down for what felt like ages, and it was genuinely hard not to snort out a laugh at the sight of Jungkook having six eyes.

"What is it?" Jimin asked as he rounded the corner with a large plastic parcel in hand, his plump cheeks very pink from the liquor and blown out cutely. Your focus came crashing back to the mysterious parcel in his small hands.

You tried to scour the corners of your buzzing mind but couldn't remember what you'd bought online for the life of you. You gently took the package from your roommate and squinted down at your name written on the label, earning muffled sounds of amusement from the rest of the guys watching you attempt to read. "I seriously forgot, but anyway let me open it..."

"Uh uh, no way," a scolding tone came from behind you when you reached for the scissors on the kitchen benchtop. You squeaked in surprise when Taehyung yanked them away from your grasp, and he darted to the side playfully before you could even think of chasing him up.

"Yeah, if anyone it'll be Tae using the scissors since he hasn't even had a drink." Hoseok laughed, poking your cheek when you grumbled and pouted.

The others went back to the game playing on the TV while you, Taehyung and Jimin stood around to open the package. It was incredibly soft underneath the plastic wrapping, and the more that was peeled away the more you remembered your spontaneous buy.

"Oh!" You pulled up the massive lump of lime green and white cotton, the largest smile breaking out onto your flushed face. "It's the wearable blanket I wanted!"

"Wearable ... what now?" Yoongi murmured from his spot on the couch.

"Blanket," you finished, and threw the long, heavy bundle of soft material over your head. It acted as a hoodie of sorts, only oversized to the absolute max. The warm buttery feeling of the wool against your skin had you melting on the spot in the best possible way.

"What's it like?" Taehyung murmured quietly when your eyes began to flutter shut in ecstasy, any hint of the chill in the air vanishing in an instant. He seemed to be gripped in a childlike fascination for how truly extra the item of clothing - or blanket? - was. You tried not to flush even more when he stepped closer to gently pinch some of the material between his long fingers, large wonderful eyes widening at the feeling.

"So soft, and warm," you hummed in response to his question, stepping away from him to sink back into the couch now that you were quite literally drowning in fluffy blanket-like fabric. Your hazy mind could barely comprehend anything that was happening around you now that you were reaching peak levels of comfort.

Taehyung followed you down, and you vaguely registered the dip in the couch cushion as he perched himself next to you. Your eyes were closed in pure bliss, but the brief aroma of his lavender lotion swimming around your head told you it was him. You could never mistake this addicting scent; you'd grown to like it way too much in these past few months.

Too bad you were too inebriated to really act on your small crush now, considering he was literally sitting beside you and giving his full, undivided attention for the first time ... ever, actually.

The following hour flew by, but you were still completely lost in the softness of your toasty hoodie-blanket hybrid. There was no doubt that the novelty would last a long time yet, seeing how Jimin would whine out of jealousy every ten minutes or so until you finally caved, letting him have a 'turn' for an entire 60 seconds before demanding it back.

It was cold, and you were a cuddly drunk...

As the boys continued with their game, you soon felt a slight pressure rest on your shoulder ever so slightly. You cracked one eye open to see a mop of black curls out of the corner of your eye, but the haziness flooding your brain meant you couldn't really feel as flustered as you would've - say a few hours ago.

Taehyung's fingers still fiddled with the thick fabric of your blanket-sleeve, but you could barely feel his touch through the sheer amount of wool in between your arm and his hand. Something about that bugged you, but you couldn't muster the energy to think any harder at this point.

"It's the softest thing I've ever felt," he commented, a small smile evident in the way his tone tapered off into a chuckle.

You sighed and sunk further into the bed of cotton surrounding you. "Yeah, won't last long though considering how much I'm gonna use it during winter. Make the most of it while you can, Tae."

His lips parted in slight shock. "Can I?" the boy asked in a low tone, but for what exactly you still weren't quite sure. You turned your head and blinked open both eyes drowsily, grateful that you'd managed to sober up enough by now that there weren't two of him floating around beside you.

Well, more like on you at this point. You took a quick glance at everyone else to see if they were aware, but nobody was looking, and you were sure nobody would even care. Taehyung was quite touchy with his friends and you'd definitely seen it on multiple occasions, but never with you.

Not yet anyway.

He seemed to take your pause as hesitation rather than confusion. "You just look so huggable all wrapped up in it. I wanna know if it's as warm as it looks, but it's okay I can give you some room." His eyes flickered away from your face for the first time and you instantly felt the absence of his lively gaze.

He wants to hug me!?

"No Taetae c'mon." You allowed the nickname you'd always wanted to use break free - a slip the tongue thanks to the alcohol coursing through your system - and opened up your arms to invite him closer. You watched his eyes light up again like a million stars in the night sky.

"Really?" He giggled, and the sound was so adorable paired with the way his lips formed that box-like shape as he smiled, but he spared you no time for a response.

You felt the air forcefully leave your lungs when he crawled over into your heavily padded arms, his own then wrapping themselves around your waist which was swathed in mounds of cotton. You could feel the way he gently buried his face into a place near your chest. Oh God, did he just nuzzle his way in even further?

Where did he end, and you begin? Your drunken mind couldn't really focus on one singular thought, but somehow you were even comfier than before. You brought your arms back down to rest around his broad shoulders and decided to savour this moment, because you sure as hell weren't going to be able to look him in the eye after tonight.

You weren’t even that close. You being nothing more than his best friend’s roommate, and him a newfound friend you might be harbouring the tiniest crush on, but tonight was different.

"So warm..." he murmured and tightened the hold of his arms, though now you wished you could feel more skin and less wool. You imagined what it might feel like, just you and him and nothing but a normal layer of clothes separating you as you cuddled on the couch. It caused a pleased sigh to float from your lips, and you heard Taehyung let out an amused chuckle in tandem.

Could he be thinking something similar? Hopefully?

"I guess I must feel like a massive teddy bear to you," you managed to say without slurring your words, too drunk on the feeling of warmth and comfort and blossoming affection shrouding your mind.

"Damn right you do, sweetheart."

Even in the midst of all the liquid courage circulating your body you felt your heart skip a beat at the deep, relaxed tone of his voice, not to mention the pet-name. He sat up straighter and pulled you along with him, the expression on his face completely blissed out as he hugged you tighter to his frame. You could feel your heart hammering away in your chest, and just hoped to God there was enough fabric there to muffle the clamour.

There you both sat, locked together and bundled up in the mounds of cotton that was your wearable blanket, all until you drifted off to the best drunk sleep you’d ever had. It was the first of many cuddles you would share, unbeknownst to you at the time, but with a giggling Seokjin using his phone to take a blurry video of you both and a snickering Jimin egging him on, it was easy to see how one thing would lead to another the next day.

Sometimes, it appeared the key to winning over a man's heart was to not only become a body pillow, but become his body pillow.

#taehyung x reader #v x reader #btsghostie #btsgoldnet #taehyung fluff #taehyung drabble #taehyung imagines #taehyung scenarios #bts x reader #bts v #bts taehyung #handing out free apologies come get yours :)#requests #saladejin

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lifeofkaze · 3 years ago

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When Stars Ignite - Chapter 21

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N: That's a wrap on Part 2 everybody! It's going so fast, wow. We will take a very short break with publishing while we put Part 3 through the final edit stage, but don't worry, it won't be that long as we're actually almost done writing the whole (!!) fic. Very grateful you're on board with us! The lovely KC (in mention) belongs to @kc-and-oc

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: (more or less) graphic depiction of explicit NSFW content - do NOT read if under the age of 18!

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @night-rhea @carewyncromwell @thatravenpuffwitch

You're second hand smoke, second hand smoke

I breathe you in, but honey, I don't know

What you're doing to me, mon chéri

But the truth catches up with us eventually

~ Fall Out Boy - Irresistible ~

When she woke the next morning, it took Lizzie some time to come to grips with where she was. She reluctantly opened her eyes and immediately regretted it; the room started spinning around her and she groaned from the white hot pain in her head.

But her head wasn’t the only thing that hurt; she felt shattered to the bone from the strain of doubling on shows the day before, and she could tell her muscles would be aching like hell before long.

With a heavy sigh she turned her head and frowned at the sight of a familiar shock of black hair next to her. Her frown deepened as she tried and failed to recall last night’s memories.

The last thing she remembered was her sweet-talking the barkeeper into selling them one of the many bottles of whiskeys on display behind the bar where she and Orion had crashed. They had shared it on their way home; maybe the combination of alcohol, complete exhaustion and fresh air hadn’t been the best one after all.

Lizzie rolled onto her stomach and brushed her tangled hair out of her face. She cursed under her breath as the dizziness hit her again; she placed one hand against the headboard of the bed and steadied herself until she didn’t feel like she was in a boat on a rough sea anymore.

The air of the room was cold against her bare skin, making her pull the duvet up around her. She bit her lip with a hint of bad conscience as she watched Orion’s peacefully sleeping face; she had no recollection of last night, neither of hooking up with him or joining him in his room in the first place.

With the warmth of her body suddenly gone from his arms, Orion seemed to be pulled from his dreams as well. He sighed sleepily before opening his eyes. Raking his fingers through his black hair, a smile spread on his face.

“Good morning,” he muttered drowsily, his voice still hoarse from sleep. “How long have you been awake?”

“Just a few minutes.”

Lizzie propped herself up on her elbows and reached for her phone to check the time. It was a lot later than she would have thought; she should have already been in her own room for ages by now.

“Bloody hell, how much did we drink last night?” she muttered as she dropped the phone again and snuggled back into the pillows.

Orion laughed softly. “Me? Not so much. You? Well…” he chuckled, “how much do you remember?”

Lizzie felt the heat rising to her face. “Not that much, to be honest,” she admitted sheepishly.

Orion placed a hand on his chest and feigned a hurt expression. “And there was me thinking last night was special.”

Still red in the face, she swatted him playfully. “You didn’t make that much of an impression if I don’t even remember it.”

He caught her wrist and held it with no effort at all. “Don’t worry, I’m just kidding; nothing to make an impression of. You actually fell asleep on me.”

Mortified at his words, Lizzie buried her face against his chest. “I am so sorry,” she said, the vibrations of her words against his ribcage making Orion laugh.

“Don’t worry, it’s alright; we were both really drunk and really tired.”

She raised his eyes to meet his. “No, it’s not alright.”

Her expression suddenly shifted as her eyes began to sparkle mischievously. She put her hand on his chest, her fingers tiptoeing lightly across his skin.

“That was incredibly impolite of me,” she purred into his ear, making Orion hold his breath. “Let me make it up to you.”

He smirked at her, his thumb running over her lower lip. “We do have some things left unfinished.”

Her eyes flashing, she gave him a short yet passionate kiss before she slowly started moving downwards, her lips and tongue drawing patterns on his skin that were feeling like a trail of fire.

Orion’s smirk vanished from his face as she reached her destination and wrapped her lips around him. His breath hitching, his head dropped back into the pillows and he had to stifle a low moan. When his breathing became more and more ragged, he gently signalled her to stop.

Lizzie looked up at him questioningly, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smirk as she saw the glazed expression in his eyes.

“You alright?” she asked innocently.

She made a disappointed face when he moved out from under her. That quickly changed, however, when he reached out and pulled her to him for a kiss that left both of them breathless.

“That’s a two-way street we’re going down here,” he mumbled between kisses; her hands roaming his body made it hard for him to concentrate on forming a clear sentence.

“You’re not the one who has to make amends,” Lizzie hummed against his mouth.

The feeling of her skin against his was all Orion could think about. His hands ran down her ribcage, over her tattoo and waistline until they came to rest on her hips.

“Then let me decide how I want you to do that.”

The grip on her hips tightening, he pulled her onto his lap and Lizzie moved along on instinct. When she lowered herself on top of him, Orion leaned his head back against the headboard, trying to breathe deeply to not get overwhelmed by the feeling of her.

He waited until she was ready, taking in the sight of her. Her messy hair was spilling over one of her shoulders and he saw the muscles in her toned arms work as she held onto him for support. They made eye contact, and the look in her blue eyes was intense, the smile on her face making them shine. It wasn’t the usual flirty smirk he knew from her, but a lot softer; if Orion hadn’t known any better, he’d called it almost shy.

Her hand went to his face, her thumb running over his unshaved cheek before she leaned in and kissed him.

“Ready?” she whispered, before she started moving on top of him. They immediately found their common rhythm, being well attuned to each other after all these months.

Time seemed to slow down as they moved against each other, everything else fading into the background. All Orion could concentrate on was their synchronised movements, his head spinning from the scent of her and their mingled breaths as Lizzie kissed him again and again.

All his senses were imbued with her as he held her close. It wasn’t long before Orion felt her tensing under his hands. He relished the feeling of her head against his collarbone and her fingers dipping into his shoulders as she rode out her high. Still moving, he felt her lips on the sensitive spot where his shoulder met his neck; when her teeth nipped the soft skin, the momentary flash of sweet pain was enough to send him over the edge as well. Hanging on to the feeling of his release, he only hugged her closer.

Their movements slowly came to a halt as their breathing calmed. Orion kissed the top of her head as Lizzie climbed off him. She smiled and leaned against him, her head nestled into the crook of his neck as his arms went around her.

They sat like this for some time, neither one of them speaking, just enjoying the closeness they were sharing. Orion was on the point of dozing off, his fingers drawing lazy circles on Lizzie’s arm, when a sharp knock on the door brought him violently back to the here and now.

“Oi, heads up, lovebirds,” Skye could be heard a moment later. “Dad’s on the way, so you might want to get dressed and get Jameson back to her own room, I’d say.”

With a curse, Lizzie jumped out of the bed, gathering up her clothes that still lay strewn all over the floor. She was only half dressed when another knock sounded on the door. This time, it was Ethan’s voice on the other side.

“Orion, are you up already?”

Lizzie and Orion shared a panicked look. The only way out was blocked by Ethan and hiding in the bathroom was not an option, in case he would want to come in.

Ethan knocked again and Orion looked around the room for a resolution to their problem. When his gaze fell onto the small wardrobe, Lizzie crossed her arms in front of her chest, mouthing a silent “No way”.

***

Ethan was waiting in the doorway with raised eyebrows when Orion finally opened the door. Everybody knew he was an early riser, so Ethan had probably expected him to be awake. Nonetheless, Orion tried putting on his best sleepy face.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” Ethan said, before a knowing grin spread on his face. He shifted slightly, trying to peek around Orion into the messy room behind him.

“Am I coming at a bad time?” he grinned.

Orion leaned against the doorframe, effectively blocking his view. “Not at all.”

He knew there was nothing compromising Ethan would be able to see from where he was standing, but his tousled hair, lack of shirt and the red mark on his collarbone were telling a story of their own. Ethan had been part of the business for far too long to not come to his own conclusions.

“No shame in taking a groupie to your room after a show, mate,” he laughed jovially, clapping Orion on the shoulder. “We all did it one time or another.”

Orion’s face remained stone cold. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Still laughing, the former rockstar shook his head. “If you say so.”

His face grew more serious as he continued, “Just make sure not to stir up any hopes in the poor girl. That never ends well. Getting too involved can get messy, believe an old stager.”

“If you say so,” Orion echoed his words, making it very clear that it was time for Ethan to leave.

Taking the hint, Ethan stepped back from the door. “You don’t happen to know where Lizzie is, do you? No one answered when I knocked on her door.”

“I’ve literally just woken up,” Orion replied, his voice not betraying his rapidly beating heart. “Maybe she’s on a run with Skye?”

“No, I just saw Skye going downstairs with Erika.”

Orion shrugged. “Then I don’t know. Maybe just text her?”

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” Ethan mused, “anyway, I just wanted to let you know that the band meeting is in half an hour down in the breakfast room. See you then.”

He turned on his heel and marched away, so he didn’t see the relief flickering across Orion’s face as he shut the door again.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t hide his smug grin when he opened the door of his wardrobe. He found Lizzie sitting on the board above the shoe rag, folded together as tightly as she could manage. She stared at him glumly.

“That’s not what I imagined hiding a groupie in my room would be like, but I guess you’ll have to make do,” he laughed as he helped her climb out; all the while, she was muttering curses under her breath.

“You call me a groupie one more time and I swear, you’ll rue the day,” Lizzie grumbled and poked her index finger into his chest, making him grin all the wider. She had shrugged into one of his shirts to cover herself up; it almost reached down to the middle of her thighs, the curves of her breasts barely visible through the open front she was holding together with her hands.

“Stop staring,” she rolled her eyes at him. “You heard Ethan, don’t get too involved with the groupies,” she huffed, but Orion heard the laughter in her voice.

Lizzie shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you shoved me into a cupboard, seriously. I need a moment to cope.”

Orion took her hand and pulled her towards him; she just looked irresistible in his shirt and not much else. “How about I apologise properly?”

With a laugh, Lizzie broke free of him. “Greedy today, aren’t we?”

Ignoring his question, she flashed him a crooked smile as she walked past him into the direction of the bathroom, her hips swaying a lot more than they needed to. She paused at the door and looked over her shoulder. “That shower is awfully large for one person alone, don’t you think?”

She shrugged out of his shirt and casually let it drop to the floor; she didn’t even bother closing the bathroom door behind her.

Orion stared after her for a moment before running his fingers through his hair, smiling to himself.

One day, that woman would be the death of him.

***

Their little shower detour had taken longer than expected and all the others were already assembled and waiting for them in the breakfast room. Lizzie hated having to make them wait even longer after Orion had joined them before her. She didn’t exactly have regrets with how her morning had gone so far, but she knew neither of their friends would be particularly amused that she was so late.

She put on her best apologetic smile as she stepped into the room. As expected, she was greeted by a very pissed looking Ethan, who wanted to know where the hell she’d been.

“Out running,” she mumbled, “got lost on the way, sorry.”

Rolling his eyes, Ethan continued elaborating their program for the day. They would be leaving Birmingham as soon as everything was packed up and would move on to their next location. They were set for Liverpool next, before moving on to Manchester.

Lizzie had been looking forward to returning to Manchester ever since their U.K. tour had begun; it was always nice coming back to the place where everything had started.

She was only listening to Ethan’s roundup of the last few days with half an ear. Although she felt a lot more awake than before, her head had started pounding again and she didn’t even have her first cup of coffee yet. She eyed the cup in KC’s hand wistfully, the smirk of her red-headed friend as she brought it to her lips not lost on her.

As soon as Ethan was done, Lizzie got up and made a beeline for the gleaming coffee machine on the buffet table in the middle of the room. She was just waiting for her latte to run through, when Andre joined her.

He wasn’t saying anything at first as he helped himself to a chai latte, but the disapproval seeping from him as he looked her up and down was palpable.

“You could wear anything and look fabulous in it, sweetheart,” he muttered under his breath, “but do you always have to nick his shirts? They’re so plain.” Coming out of his mouth, it sounded like an insult.

Lizzie almost choked on her coffee at his words. She was still wearing the casual button-up shirt she had found in Orion’s wardrobe but wore it open, the ends tied together at her waist to make it look a little more inconspicuous; she hadn’t had the time to get to her own room and get changed.

Pretending she had burnt her mouth, Lizzie grimaced and blew against her cup. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Andre looked at her dismissively. “Don’t you, now? Let me tell you, darling, I would know any piece of your wardrobe under a thousand. I tend to pick them out for you, remember?”

He turned to her and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but his face was serious. “Don’t get all spooked, I don’t care what you guys are doing. You know me, I’m for love all around, whatever kind, it’s a beautiful thing,” he made a fluttery movement with his hands in the way that was so typically Andre, “but we all know how it is in this band.”

The smile that had appeared on his face vanished again and he looked at Lizzie intensely. “Just take it as a piece of advice from an old friend. Be a little more careful. So far, you’ve been lucky, but we wouldn’t want the wrong people to find you out.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #orion amari #lizzie jameson #skye parkin #ethan parkin #andre egwu #rockstar au #when stars ignite #wsi #besties collaborate #that's a wrap on part 2

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quazartranslates · 3 years ago

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Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH29

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 29: Star Death Reality Show (XII) {cw: brief discussion of menstruation}

This conversation between guys didn't last long. After all, Qi Leren and Du Yue weren’t too familiar with each other, and they wouldn't be as casual as with Dr. Lu. It was almost two o'clock in the middle of the night. It was time for Qi Leren to watch the speaker.

The temperature difference between night and day was not much in the polar region, and the sunshine of the polar day fell on the tundra, quiet and serene. If it weren't for the danger stirring, that was spying on these poor lambs, Qi Leren probably wouldn't be as uneasy as he was now.

When he came to the outside of the church, Qi Leren saw Janet’s bright clothes at a glance. She was breathing on her hands. After a while, she pulled thick gloves on her hands: "This damn weather is really enough to freeze penguins."

—It's cold enough to freeze penguins. Someone had once described a polar environment to Qi Leren like this. When Janet’s words, he couldn’t help but think of that. Qi Leren showed a smile: "There are no penguins here, and we have temperature-control suits. We won’t freeze to death."

"Hey man, this is just an exaggerated metaphor. Can you have a sense of humor?" Janet rolled her eyes at him.

Dr. Lu and Alex came out of the church. Both of them were a little sleepy. They went back to rest after the handover with Janet. Janet walked into the church, sat down on the couch, and chatted with Qi Leren boredly: "You and Lara have a good relationship?"

"Not bad," Qi Leren said perfunctorily.

"Uh-huh, I guess you’re being condescending now," Janet said with a smile.

"You’re not a worm in my stomach." Qi Leren refused to admit it.

"Come on, I still have self-awareness. I never wanted to be likable." Janet shrugged her shoulders and said casually, "Let’s change the subject. What do you think about the disappearances these past few days?"

"...It's hard to say, but I don't think this is a ‘script’. The situation has been somewhat out of control." Qi Leren frowned. "I feel that it’s dangerous. A great danger..."

"Interesting. What kind of danger is it?" Janet asked curiously.

Qi Leren glanced at her. He wasn’t sure what this woman was thinking: "In many ways. Although intelligent life on this planet is extinct, there are still large animals alive, the vegetation is well preserved, the air quality and temperature conditions are suitable for survival, and it may be used as a colony planet or sightseeing planet in the future."

Janet was suddenly taken with him and followed along his topic: "I don't want to come to this hellhole again. Unless some discerning producer invites me to be the heroine and let Lara play the villain, then I may think about it, haha."

"You hate her that much?" Qi Leren was surprised. He thought Lara was easy to get along with.

"It’s the war between women, men wouldn’t understand." Janet spread her hands. "Anyway, I just hate the way she carries herself all the time. She acts like she’s the smartest, most powerful, most understanding in the world. It’s hypocritical, but you men eat this up."

Qi Leren declined to comment.

When Janet saw that he didn't speak, she curled her lips in boredom and found a place to sit down.

It was getting late into the night, Janet complained about the importance of beauty sleep, and absently dozed off. Qi Leren had had enough sleep during the day, so now he was very energetic and wandered around the church. This church should be quite old. If it wasn’t in the polar region, it would have been overwhelmed by lush vegetation and become a green ruin.

Looking out from the church window, Qi Leren could just see He Yi's house in the southwest. He suddenly remembered that He Yi had talked about something. On the first night, he saw...

What did he see? Did someone enter the church? If so, who did he see?

Unless He Yi reappeared, it was impossible for him to know.

This night was calm, Janet slept for a while and woke up after a while. At 7 o'clock, she finally got up. She tidied up her hair and complained: "I have never lived so rough in my life, and I have never desired to before!"

Qi Leren was about to speak when he saw Lara coming with Xue Jiahui from the window, so he asked, "How do you feel?"

Xue Jiahui looked at him in confusion and shook her head: "I still can't remember..."

"It's good that we’re returning to our parent star when the program is over. It should be only temporary," Lara consoled.

When the contestants came one after another, Lara pulled the Qi Leren aside when no one was paying attention and whispered, "When you searched for materials a few days ago, did you find anything like cotton and cloth?"

"Yes, I did. What do you want this for?" Qi Leren wondered.

"I don't want it, it’s Xue Jiahui. I saw that she discarded a cloth in the bathroom with blood on it. I think she probably encountered the same problem as Annie," Lara said.

Qi Leren: "..."

"Even I don't think it’s very good. You may not know this, but this physiological condition can be contagious," Lara said embarrassedly.

Qi Leren felt that, as a man, he didn't really want to know this kind of thing. He was a little concerned that Lara didn't tell others, but instead had taken him aside to borrow necessities. Did he look like a "best friend"?

Probably seeing Qi Leren’s depressed expression, Lara added: "I asked Francis to look after her for a while yesterday and went everywhere to borrow something, but unfortunately none of them had anything."

"Then how did you deal with it?" Qi Leren asked.

Lara gave a complicated look and said, "Xue Jiahui cut up her pillow... The pillowcase was used as a liner."

As the two people whispered, the contestants had already arrived one after another. This time, the atmosphere was more dignified than the previous two times. It even faintly appeared somewhat strange, because this time, what would be announced by the speaker was not the person who had won the Best of the Day, but the person who had knocked out Xue Jiahui and left her in the church. And this man was among them.

Time passed, and at eight o'clock the speaker started. The answer they eagerly wanted to know was given in a mechanical voice: "Now broadcasting the voting results. The winner of the Best of the Day is: Mark."

"Mark?"

"How can it be him?"

"Isn't he missing?"

"It turned out to be him?"

They were all whispering in amazement, but Qi Leren was not too surprised. It had seemed like Mark had gone missing at the beginning, but he wasn’t really missing, he was hiding somewhere... He quietly glanced out of the corner of his eye at Annie who was standing in the shadows, and she was expressionless.

……

The discussion was still inconclusive, so they had to split up again. Qi Leren was in a faint hurry. Today was the fourth day. If there was no breakthrough, even if he risked being seen through by the audience, he would identify the dangerous creature "amphioctopus", or risk being parasitized or injured. He would forcibly enter Annie's house.

Although Annie's own fighting capacity shouldn’t be strong, Qi Leren strongly suspected that she was already a puppet of the octopus, and he doesn't know anything about the octopus’ fighting capabilities. He didn't have the confidence that he could kill an octopus without using a skill card. Fortunately, after listening to the broadcast results, Annie returned to her house and then left the house again with the axe to go look for materials.

After waiting for the opportunity for such a long time, Qi Leren immediately climbed into Annie's house through the window, focusing on searching for the attic. This time, they had a clear goal and had good luck. In less than ten minutes, Dr. Lu found a dark panel on the second floor ceiling, from which an iron ladder could be pulled down after it was lifted.

Qi Leren looked at the dark attic above his head and was excited. His guess was right. Annie's house did have an attic! Mark and He Yi didn’t disappear, but hid in the attic!

After entering the attic, it was dark inside. Under the illumination of the flashlight, the desks, chairs, and bookshelves here all looked grim. Qi Leren noticed that the attic was also like a laboratory, just like the basement in Jing Siyu’s house.

Dr. Lu also came up, looked around to search, and soon felt that there was something wrong with the floor in the attic. Du Yue came up to help and lifted the floor. It turned out to be a straight, dark passage below, leading underground!

"So the structure is like this," Dr. Lu said, looking at this passage "It's not that there’s a trapdoor on the first floor that’s used to enter the basement, but there’s a passage through the attic, which isn’t connected with the first floor or the second floor, but goes straight to the basement. Um... For example, it’s like an enlarged version of a sewage pipe embedded in the wall."

"Why would they have such a design?" Du Yue asked curiously.

"God knows, I don’t have a clue. Oh, it’s also possible that the owner was a hikikomori and hated to see the sun. His scope of activities was the attic and the basement, so when building the house, he simply made such a passageway," Dr. Lu said.

Although he didn’t hear any movement, Qi Leren was a little worried that someone could be in the basement, so when he grabbed the metal cross section and climbed down the pipe’s ladder rung by rung, his heart beat fast and he was extremely nervous. But after reaching the bottom, he found everything was normal and the basement was empty.

"Wow, what is this? Was there an explosion?" Dr. Lu also climbed down and was surprised to see that there was a pile of messy rubble deep in the basement and a big hole punched out of the wall.

"Do you remember that when we were in Jing Siyu’s basement, there was the sound of an explosion outside? At that time, I thought it was the church or something had collapsed, but now it seems that... It happened here," Qi Leren said thoughtfully.

Du Yue also came over. He was more active. He simply rolled up his sleeves and moved the rocks. However, several huge rocks blocked the hole and couldn’t be removed without tools: "No, I can't move them. Can I explode it again?"

Qi Leren looked at the rocks on the ground that had obviously been manipulated but still blocked their way. He could imagine what Annie and Mark had been busy with these past few days… Hey, but where had Mark gone? They didn't see Mark go in or out of Annie's house all day yesterday. Maybe he was here the whole time, or maybe he was outside the whole time.

There came a squeak sound, the hatch that connected the attic to the basement was lifted. Qi Leren immediately turned off his flashlight, as did Dr. Lu.

Deng, deng, deng, the sound of shoes stepping on the metal rungs came, and Qi Leren felt like his hair was about to fall out. He looked in horror at the metal pipe with its iron ladder. Someone was coming down!

"Did we close the attic door when we entered the pipe?" Qi Leren lowered his voice and asked.

"It was closed, I was the last one, I closed it," Du Yue replied nervously.

"Okay, don't make any noise, stick to the wall, I’ll handle it." Qi Leren said after a pause, guessing that the other party didn't know they were in the basement.

After turning off the flashlights, only pure darkness remained in the basement, almost opaque. Qi Leren closed his eyes, stroked the palm of his right hand with his left hand, and silently counted the sound of the steps on the rungs as he readied himself.

He felt as if he had returned to the sea. The sea water was cold, and the pressure from all directions became stronger and stronger with his dive. He forced himself to slow down his heart, because at this time, panic would only make his oxygen consumption faster and make him closer to death.

Just as Qi Leren constantly adjusted his own state and brought himself closer to his peak level, that person had already reached the bottom. When they were about to step off it, the person fumbled in their trouser pocket and took out a flashlight...

The flashlight’s switch gave a click, and in a moment the light lit up the people hidden in the darkness. It was at this instant that Qi Leren shot out like lightning and kicked their calf! Kicked their face down to the ground!

"Ah!" A woman’s voice let out a painful cry and the flashlight fell to the ground. She wanted to look up and see who it was, but Qi Leren swung his hand down like a knife on the back of her neck! The strength was so great that she passed out instantly!

Looking at Annie, who had collapsed to the ground and passed out, Qi Leren breathed a long sigh of relief. He felt that he had returned to the surface from the bottom of the sea and felt renewed life thrum through him.

Thank you Chen Baiqi, thank you diving training, and thank you three-headed hellhound.

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

#Welcome to the Nightmare Game #欢迎来到噩梦游戏 #danmei

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nishimochas · 4 years ago

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❁﹝ enha!tegories ﹞

‣ ⒈ enhypen as some of my favorite cottagecore-esque songs.

❁﹝ lee heeseung as like the dawn by the oh hellos. ﹞

“ and like the dawn, you broke the dark and my whole earth shook. i was sleeping in the garden when i saw you. ”

light crept through the windows over your slumbering figure, heeseung's eyes steady over your face, studying every curve, angle, every dip and crevice. a sigh escapes him, content, as his fingers brush over your features in a soothing manner. the soft simper he wore blooms into a smile as your eyes begin to flutter open. you share his smile with a sleepy one of yours and snuggle closer to his frame.

"good morning, sunshine."

the moniker is met with a chuckle as he leans in to press a gingerly kiss on your crown. your arms circle his frane loosely, savoring the warmth. heeseung's heart swells when his eyes meet yours. he knows he hasn't yet seen a more beautiful sight, and he doubts such a sight to even exist in earth.

to wake up next to you for all the mornings of his life, to have you as his first sight with each break of dawn – nothing would ever compare.

“ you were the brightest shade of sun i had ever seen. ”

× 🌼 ×

❁﹝ jay park jongseong as home by jacob banks ﹞

“ so baby, baby, won't you let me in? i'm knocking on your door so let me in. i just need someone to love, i just need someone to hold. ”

the afternoon had been quaint, pleasant and proper enough for a leisurely nap. you curled up within the blankets as your system drowns out the tv noise, thoughts drifting away. as if in instinct, your hand reaches for the mess of pillows by your side – where jay usually sits, limbs in a tangle with yours as you both doze off. you couldn't hold back a sigh; it wasn't quite like home without him there.

buzz buzz.

you check your phone for the notification. an immediate smile tugs on the corner of your lips upon reading the message.

[ from: jjongddaengie 😎 ]

i'm almost home, baby. wait for me?

and so you set your phone aside and envelope yourself with the soft fabric, fighting the urge to giggle in anticipation. as the white noise of the movie you half paid attention to lulls you to sleep, you enter oblivion in the knowledge that in not very long, jay will come back home and see you as you are. you know you'll be greeted with two arms around your waist and a kiss on the shoulder; and at that moment, you know you'll always find home right where he is.

“ i need someone to kiss goodnight, and to give my heart a home. ”

× 🌼 ×

❁﹝ jake shim jaeyoon as coffee by beabadoobee ﹞

“ don't stay awake for too long, don't go to bed; i'll make a cup of coffee for your head, i'll get you up and going out of bed ”

nights like these, when it is calm and the winds are gentle, are best enjoyed with a cup of hot coffee. it's become a habit for you jake to lounge on your front porch, each with a steaming cup with hand as you two chat about everything there is under the sun and beyond. this night was not very different; same seat, same sweaters, same mugs, only this time, there was complete silence between the two of you.

you'd expected it to be tense, for an unsettling echo of quiet to descend between you. but much to your surprise, this... this was comfortable.

"jakey?"

"yes, love?"

you breath almost hitches at his answer – no matter how many times he's been affectionate with you, it'll always feel special. different. like there was no other soul in the entire universe who could ever say it the way jake does.

you take a sip from your coffee cup and glance back at him, wearing a proud grin only he could ever give you.

"let's do this more often."

“ won't you come down and get me? i like it when you hold me tight. ”

× 🌼 ×

❁﹝ park sunghoon as yellow by coldplay ﹞

“ look at the stars, look how they shine for you and everything you do; yeah, they were all yellow. ”

driving out at such an ungodly hour was, prior to being an impulse, something you and sunghoon have given much thought to. it was only when the two of you were still wide awake after having tried everything that you hopped into the car for your late night escapade. a song you weren't familiar with played in the radio station to fill the silence, but you were far too focused on counting the billboards to notice.

"twenty two... twenty three... ooo look, it's one of those ads about billboard ads–"

you roll down the car window to see further out, still counting under your breath each time you pass one by. he glances to his side and sees you; you two looked so cliche, almost straight out of a music video. he pulled over at an empty park and your displeasure was immediately made known.

"hey, i wasn't done counting..."

sunghoon chuckles from the driver's seat and pulls you in by the wrist, lips pressing softly against your temple in the most delicate of brushes.

"you can go back to counting when i'm done kissing you."

“ your skin and bones turn into something beautiful. do you know i love you so? ”

× 🌼 ×

❁﹝ kim sunoo as strawberry blonde by mitski ﹞

“ i love everybody because i love you – i dont need the city and i dont need proof. all i need, darling, is a life in your shape; i picture it, soft, and i ache. ”

the sun was especially kind today – it's warmth remained watchful over the grass you and sunoo sat on, but through a veil of clouds so as to not be so glaring. the perfect day for a picnic, as he said so himself. he always goes all out for them; whatever you craved for, he had it all. you looked through his basket with a giggle, noticing a few delicacies he doesn't usually bring.

"why macaroons?", you ask while helping him set up the mat and the containers.

"didn't you say you wanted macaroons last week? i thought i should bring some for you! i tried baking them but they didn't turn out very nice–"

his babbling was halted with a macaroon to the mouth, sending you both into a fit of laughter. you'll never get tired of how considerate he is, how much he pays attention to the things you say and how much sunoo truly cares. you popped a strawberry macaroon into your own mouth and rested your temple against his shoulder. now, you couldn't help but wonder: would it have tasted better if he made it?

“ look at you, strawberry blonde – fields rolling on, i love it when you call my name. ”

× 🌼 ×

❁﹝ yang jungwon as santa monica dream by angus and julia stone ﹞

“ goodbye to my santa monica dream – fifteen kids in the backyard drinking wine. you tell me stories of the sea, and the ones you left behind. ”

it's nearing three in the afternoon and jungwon's just about finished with helping you pack. he ushers the last suitcase out and into the car where your father waits for you. it wasn't difficult to tell that he was trying to avoid your gaze.

"hey..." you take his hand in yours, making him see you eye to eye. there's something quite crestfallen with how he looked at you; you had to go and pursue your dream away from home, he knew that, and he was happy for you. but you knew him better than that.

"i'll miss you, dork."

he could only give you a little smile, but it was more than enough. you look behind him and see the fridge door, battered with polaroids, receipts and letters. reminders of you, so he'll never forget.

you wave goodbye and so does he, not caring at all to wipe the tear streaking down his cheek. he'd miss you so and you all the same, but no matter where you are, or where you'll go – jungwon knows he'll be dreaming of you each and every night.

“ i'm singing songs about the future, wondering where you are. ”

× 🌼 ×

❁﹝ ni-ki nishimura riki as kiss me by sixpence none the richer ﹞

“ nightly, beside the green, green grass. swing, swing, swing the spinning step, you wear those shoes and i will wear that dress. ”

"hurry, we'll miss the fireworks!"

ni-ki half dragged you through the open venue, clad only in socks and you in his shoes with you broken heels in one hand. you could barely hold your laughter; you'd assume the punch had no alcohol, but given how giddy you were, it wouldn't have been surprising if it were revealed to be booze.

"cinderella! wanna get out of here?", he shouted beside you, the sentiment almost drowned out by the cacophony of fireworks and cheer. you took him by the wrist and maneuvered you two through the crowd. he'd figured that was a yes. you two found a cozy nook under the garden tree, spending the rest of the prom night watching from afar and laughing at his dirty socks.

"man, i'm seriously convinced that thing had alcohol in it." he laughs and nods along, peering over for a better view of your face.

"is that why you're so pink, then? drunk blush?"

immediately flustered, you hurry to cover your warm cheeks with two hands. another laugh escapes him – you almost expected him to tease you. but instead, ni-ki takes your hands away from your face, nudging your chin up so your eyes will meet his. you couldn't miss the smug grin he wore even if you wanted to.

"hey, kiss me."

“ lift your open hand, strike up the band and make the fireflies dance; silver moon's sparkling, so kiss me. ”

❁ :: i'm honestly kinda disappointed in this HSHSB brain go brr, but i hope u guys like it 🥺💕 (edit: i really should have proofread this wow)

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sckyie · 4 years ago

Text

word count: 2.5k

genre + warnings: enemies to lovers; coworkers, office love, alcohol mentioned, swearing

pronouns used: she/her

a/n: hi hi here’s my exchange gift for @coophi! happy holidays and stay safe, i hope you like what i wrote for you! [ this was apart of @/haikyuucreations secret santa ]

You put your forehead on the table groaning at the recent news. "You'll get'em next time, Y/n," your coworker rubbed your back. You sighed louder as you heard something being placed on your desk. You shift your face towards the corner of the surface to see a coffee cup with your name scribbled on the side.

You rolled your eyes and looked up to see the new lead, Kuroo, being congratulated by everyone. "That was supposed to be my promotion," You grumbled. You stared at the coffee up and walked over to Kuroo's desk. Leaving the filled cup, you excused yourself to the bathroom.

Kuroo watched as you rejected his peace offering before leaving the office. He understood how you felt once you heard that you didn't get the promotion. Your papers were perfect, clients loved you both, but the one thing keeping you from getting the promotion was simple. Kuroo's numbers were much higher than yours and it crushed yours.

The thought of endless nights staying late to catch up became pointless. The effort in surpassing him wasn't necessary anymore. All your work, all your stressful nights, everything didn't matter to the manager and execs.

"Hmph," Kuroo seated himself and stared at your drink on his desk.

"Something wrong, Kuroo?" Your coworker peeked beside him.

"Oh nothing," He responds.

You return to your desk, side-eyeing your now superior. You took a deep breath before returning to your paperwork.

Numbers, numbers, numbers. You spent your shift calculating, writing, and fixing errors. The jumble of text on your screen began to hurt your brain for working so hard.

The day dreaded on as the anger in you fumed. It wasn't that you were mad for not getting the promotion. You were furious that out of all people it'd be Kuroo who got it. You despised his snarky, overly confident facade and his petty ways of trying to show you how great he was.

Finally, your shift comes to an end but so does Kuroo's. You two walk together to the elevators though you tried your hardest avoiding him. "Did I get your order wrong?" Kuroo smirked as he pressed the lobby button.

"I don't want your pity coffee," You muttered.

"It's not a pity coffee," He rebutted. "It was a hot chai latte."

"Haha," You mocked. "I don't even like chai."

"Then what do you like?" Kuroo smiled.

"Not you," You immediately walked out of the elevator, making your way to the parking lot.

"Tsk," He was the tiniest bit irritated by your tone but decided to try again tomorrow.

Papers, papers, papers. Endless papers for you to edit and write at home. It was torture but how else could you succeed in your career. Things were already shit with Kuroo trying to be friends with you. Nevertheless, you finished at least ten pages of reports for tomorrow's agenda.

Early morning, you arrived at the office before everyone like normal. Kuroo arrives with two coffees and a small brown bag. He walked over, placing the snack and cup on your desk without a word. He walks to his desk and begins his work without interacting.

You turn the cup to check what it was. "Café latte," You mouthed. You peeked in the small bag to see a blueberry muffin. Before you could return the drink, people began to file into the room. You rolled your eyes and sipped on the drink.

"Success," Kuroo thought to himself as he watched you snack and sip the offerings.

It became a daily thing for Kuroo to bring you drinks. Never the same one twice, but always a blueberry muffin. You gave in to his gesture and thanked him silently whenever he passed by.

Your favorite interaction however was his failed attempt in talking to you. "You come here often?" He asked as he placed your coffee on your desk.

"Considering I work here, yes," You say sarcastically.

"Wow I'm literally so stupid," Kuroo thought. Kuroo saw many opportunities to talk to you more but fell nervous every time. It was always hard for him to get close to someone new. His past relationships had left him hopeless for his own future. The toxicity from the past girls left him thinking he'd never be happy with someone. These past few years, he'd been focusing on himself.

Then you walked into his life. After being transferred to a new branch, you seemed different than any other girl he's met. Kuroo saw hope in you and believed that you could be the light of his love life. He admired your attention to detail, your determination, and well, your beauty. Kuroo saw all your greatest features yet he could never bring himself to tell you his admiration.

One day, you had already a shitty morning and didn't want to deal with anything at work. From annoying traffic to angry clients to the blisters from your heels, you wanted more than anything for the day to end.

A few upset clients later, your head began to pound and you excused yourself for an early break. Kuroo turned to see you sulk away, causing him to furrow his eyebrows.

"What's with Y/n?" He asks his desk neighbor.

"Oh, two of her clients weren't co-operating and it's getting her frustrated," She responded. "She's been having a bad day."

Kuroo looks at your desk curiously and noticed how you had removed your heels under your desk. "Be right back," Kuroo gets up from his desk and walked over to the shared kitchen area to grab some things.

You returned from your short break to be greeted with a small pile of things. Bandages for your blisters, medicine for your headache, water, and a cut-up apple. "Take it easy," You found a post-it on the water bottle. You looked at your screen to see your client queue cleared with everyone on the list as approved. Confused as ever, you make use of the mystery goods to tend to your needs.

"Attention everyone, tonight Ryu here is throwing a little work party at his apartment," Your manager announced. "It is a small goodbye party for him and congratulations to our new lead, Kuroo." You rolled your eyes at Kuroo's name and continued to snack on the apples.

Later that night, you arrived at Ryu's house, catching Kuroo's attention. "Woah," Your male coworker gasped at the sight of you. "Damn, how is she single."

"Hey calm down, Kuroo-san has a crush on her," Other teased.

"Fuck off and keep my love life out your mouth," Kuroo nudges his shoulder. Though they weren't wrong, you were stunning. Dressed to impress and you even put your hair down from your usual updo. Kuroo was left speechless, thus leaving him too anxious to tell you anything.

After one cheesy speech and a big congratulations, the drinking began. Kuroo began to get too into the moment, having one too many drinks. You, however, stayed sober the whole party. You snickered at the sight of your drunk colleagues.

Kuroo's cheeks were bright red and he walked funny. He made his way towards you and you couldn't help but laugh. This was his chance to confess. "I- I- want-" He hiccuped between words. Kuroo began to get lost in thought, forgetting he was drunk confessing. "I- want my- keys- I- need- need to go- home."

"I don't think so," You snatch his keys from the key holder before he could. "Do you want me to take you home?" He nodded excessively as you rolled your eyes. You chat with Ryu shortly before taking Kuroo to your car.

"Kamikita Apartments," You say. You had asked Ryu as you saw no hope in getting anything out of Kuroo. He slowly fell asleep in your car as you drove through the lit city. "I hope you know, I'm only doing this because you're drunk. I still don't like you."

"Mhm," Kuroo says in his sleep. You giggled at his expression all the way to his apartment.

Kuroo rests his arm around your shoulder as you two made your way to the apartment. You unlock the door and Kuroo immediately walks to the bedroom. Once he realized you weren't behind him, he turns back. "Where'd you go?" He pouted.

"Nowhere," You followed into his room. "Where are your pajamas- Oh, here. Change while I get you water."

Kuroo obeys your order and seats himself as he waited for his water. To him, he had already confidently talked to you about how he felt. Yet in reality, he was too drunk to even comprehend the front of his shirt.

"Here," You notice the tag in the front of his shirt as he chugged the water. "Your shirt is backward."

"Help me?" He begged. You facepalm at his tone but agreed. It felt like you were taking care of a baby. Your cheeks flushed pink once you helped him take off his shirt. You stopped to admire his face as you adjusted the middle of his sleep shirt. His hands move to rest on your hips. "It's so cold. Thank you for helping me change. Oh, and Y/n?"

"Y-yes?" You stuttered at his large hands.

"I have something to tell you," His voice started to sound sleepy. "I love you." Your eyes widen and you couldn't show him your shy expression.

"Tell me that again when you're sober," You move his hands away from you. Making your way to the light switch, you looked at the sad Kuroo. "I'll sleep in the living room. Just- go to bed."

Thankfully you had a change of clothes in your trunk that you used to sleep in. You got ready for bed, chuckling at the sounds of Kuroo snoring next door to the bathroom.

You laid silently on the couch staring at the ceiling. Those three words, you never thought you'd hear them from him of all people. It'd been years since your last break up, so you'd always been so closed off when it came to men. After getting heartbroken, you didn't think another man could love you. Kuroo was no exception. Sure he was handsome but you were adamant about staying single for the longest.

The thought of Kuroo in your life lingered up until the morning. He had woken up before you and found himself with a pounding headache. He made his way to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water. As he drank his water, he spit-sprayed the water out of his mouth when he spots you sleeping. He began to cough aggressively before collecting himself. "Wha- what is she doing here?!" He whispered.

You woke up to the sound of your dying colleague, rubbing your eyes to the bright room. Kuroo walked over to you as you sat up, pulling the blanket to your lap. "Good morning," You yawned. "How's the hangover?"

"What are you doing here?" Kuroo panicked.

"You were shit-faced. This was the one thing I could do for repaying you for the coffees," You say.

"Did I do- did I say anything stupid?" He hides his face in his hands.

"You told me something," You began to fiddle with your thumbs. "I don't know if you meant it or not, but you told me you loved me."

"I...did?" Kuroo slowly moves his hands to look at you. Your face was red and you were playing with your sleeves now.

"Well, did you mean it?" You ask. "If you didn't..."

Kuroo reached over and pulled your chin up with his index knuckle and thumb. "I meant it," He says. "I really did."

Your face grew warmer at his words. "Why?" You sighed. "I'm so mean to you."

"Because," Kuroo moves his hand away to stare at his lap. "I love your smile. I love the way you work. I love how determined you are. The way you sign your papers with a tiny heart. The way you laugh at the smallest things. And...I know you might hate my guts but ever since I saw you, I admired you. You make so many people smile and bring happiness to the room. I thought I'd been on your shit list but I'm glad you took care of me- See that's another thing, you put yourself after everyone else. That's why I gave you bandaids, buy you coffee, finished your quotas for you. I just think you deserve better than what you have right now. And I'm so impressed by you-"

You got annoyed by his rambling and decided to grab his cheeks. You interrupted his words by crashing your lips into his. "You literally talk so much," You pulled away. "Can I talk now?"

Kuroo was stunned at the fact that you just kissed him to shut him up. "You just- kissed-" You pressed your lips on his again to keep him quiet. He deepened the kiss before you could pull away. "You can talk." He smiled as he pulled away.

"Okay," You move from his face. "I wanted to say, you weren't on my shit list or whatever. I was upset I didn't get the promotion and I didn't like your attitude. But, getting to know you I learnt how different you really are. Especially when you’re drunk, it's funny. Besides that, I didn't know how you felt, I didn't notice all the things you've done for me."

Kuroo placed his palm on yours, carefully comparing the size of it to yours. "I didn't think I could fall in love with someone who didn't give me the time of day," He says. You moved your fingers to trace his.

"How are you so sure that you love me?" You laced your fingers with Kuroo's.

"That's the thing, I'm not sure," Kuroo looked down at his lap. "I did all those things just to make your days easier. I thought all the small gestures I did, wouldn't matter to you. That they were just tedious things that bothered you. To be honest, I'm afraid of letting someone into my heart. I was drunk when I told you and I meant it but I want to know for sure that I'm in love with you before anything."

"Do you want to find out?" You say softly.

"Only if you'd let me," Kuroo looked up to see you smiling at him. You nodded and leaned in for another kiss. "Man if only your kisses made this hangover go away."

You rolled your eyes and pressed your lips against his once more. The feeling of his hands move to your waist caused the heat in your face to return. Kuroo pulls you to straddle his lap as he deepened the kiss. Your hands rest on his shoulders while he rubbed your sides.

"I promise to make you the happiest woman in the world," He whispered as he pulled away.

"Do I still get morning coffee?" You giggled.

"And your blueberry muffin," Kuroo chuckled. You smiled before pecking his lips. You rest your head on the crook of his neck as he rubbed your back. "I won't disappoint you."

taglist: @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @just-a-siiimp @d0llpie @elianetsantana

#haikyuu #haikyu #hq #haikyuu x you #hq x you #haikyuu kuroo #hq kuroo #Kuroo Tetsurō #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo #forbes dreamz #haikyuucreations

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vampcubus · 5 years ago

Note

Izuku with a reader with a vampire like quirk (acts like Marceline from adventure time) and likes to sing. She and Uraraka argue and fight for his attention and affection. Fluff and angst at the end please. I really like your writing luv! Keep up the good work!! UwU

| A/N: I had so much fun writing this so it got pretty lengthy! It’s also not as fluffy as I had first intended, but I hope you like it nonetheless! |

(Edit: It’s been split up into two parts due to text block limitations.)

♡ Warnings: Angst, blood-drinking.♡

♡ Words: 2200+ ♡

See part 2 … here

. . .

Bite Me (Midoriya/Vampire!Reader) [Part 1]

You reclined on Midoriya’s bed in his dorm room, fingers plucking at the strings of your guitar to find a good rhythm that stuck. You were technically here for a friendly study session with Midoriya, Iida, and Uraraka, but your bluenette friend canceled last minute so it was just you three. Which, was fine you could still get a lot of work in.

The only thing was, it wasn’t fine. Your eyes drifted from the strings to where Ochako and Deku sat adjacent to you, laughing about something you didn’t care to know about.

Midoriya has barely paid any attention to you the entire time you’ve been here and it was getting on your damn nerves. You frowned, leaning further away from the rays of sun that shone through the slightly open curtains. He always made sure to close them for you when you came over. I guess he was too busy with Uraraka to care.

Not that you couldn’t close them yourself! But that wasn’t the point.

As selfish as it may sound you like to think that he thinks about you. And normally, he does! But when Uraraka-san’s around… not so much.

Why did he like her so much? Was she better than you? Was it because she had a more reliable pulse? Better impulse control? Fuck, now you’re just making yourself feel bad.

While sifting through your bitter thoughts your fingers subconsciously caught onto a good tune, and you closed your eyes, humming to the rhythm and trying to think up some rad lyrics to pair with it. A bit early, but you were never a conformist to basic music composition anyways.

You heard Uraraka giggle and Midoriya chuckled back, the sound making you snap your eyes open and strike a harsher yet kind of nice-sounding chord.

You continued playing quietly to yourself, whispering a few different lyrics every now and then to sound them out and see which ones stuck. As you build a good foundation, you had unknowingly captured the attention of your classmates who finally turned away from the assignment and one another to look at you as you played.

She looks so concentrated! Midoriya thought as he watched you with sparkling eyes, feeling blessed to have been given the opportunity to bear witness to your creative process. He’s always admired you, especially your way with music. And now that you’re properly hanging out as friends more often, he’s written almost an entire notebook about you and your quirk! You were so cool!

Your quirk was very vampire-like in nature. You had increased physical strength and speed, the ability to float, and the more blood you consumed the stronger you were. Not only that but you could shape-shift into a bat! A cute one at that… Midoriya smiled crookedly at that, reminded of the time you fell asleep in class and when Mr. Aizawa smacked a book down on your desk. You got so frightened you poofed into a little bat version of yourself!

He might have drawn your bat form too…

Some might say your quirk was a little villainous, but he didn’t see it that way at all! You’d make a great hero one day, regardless of how er… exotic? Morbid? Your quirk was.

“Wow, Y/N-chan, that sounds really good so far!” Midoriya gushed a little, shaking you from your focused trance and negative thoughts—accidentally pulling the wrong string, making you cringe.

“Oh-uh, thanks!” You blushed, feeling the blood rise to your usually ice-cold cheeks.

“You’re going to make a great artist one day. After you go pro that is.” Deku flattered, freckled cheeks lighting up with the slightest dusting of pink. That’s also when he noticed the weird angle you were leaning to keep out of the light streaming through the curtains.

“Oh no! The curtains! I completely f-forgot, I’m so sorry, Y/N-chan!” He stuttered apologetically, scrambling to his feet to go and pull the curtains shut. You sighed in relief leaning back into a more comfortable position. “You should’ve said something.” He frowned, the guilt clear in his mesmerizing emerald green eyes.

“D-don’t worry about it, Deku. You looked… busy.” You coughed awkwardly, fingers subconsciously returning to strumming across the strings to distract yourself.

To your delight, Midoriya sat closer to you this time. And you shot Uraraka a subtle-yet-victorious glance, to which you were met with her frustrated one. It was almost like there was an invisible bolt of lightning between you, cracking challengingly between two rivals as you shared a familiar look of ‘friendly’ competition. You knew she had a crush on Deku, and she knew that you had feelings for him in turn. Neither of you wanted to step away, both dead set on winning Deku’s affections for your own. Of course, the little green ray of sunshine had no idea about this, but he didn’t need to know.

“Can you—um… c-can you possibly… teach me some things?” Midoriya asked bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes darting from your own now-softer ones and your guitar. Your normally-still heart swelled and beat a few times, your cheeks burning. You felt the excitement bubble inside and you couldn’t help but give him an enthusiastic fanged smile. You didn’t even have time to send Uraraka a bragging look, you were too eager.

“Of course!” You exclaimed, slipping your guitar strap off your shoulder. “Scoot a bit closer.”

A while later you found yourself sitting behind Deku, arms wrapped around him to guide his clumsy hands across the strings of your favorite guitar. He had been incredibly nervous the first few lessons, especially with you touching him like this, but he relaxed once you got him into the zone. Uraraka scribbled away at an assignment to your left, sending you glances every now and then.

For once you weren’t worried about her though. All you could think about was the rough texture of Midoriya’s hands under your own as you adjusted his posture once more.

“Hey, there ya go, you’re getting the hang of this!” You complimented, and he flushed, cringing when his fingers fumbled and played the wrong tune. “You’re fine. You’re a natural, Deku!”

“You think so?” He asked, eyes shiny as they glanced over his shoulder at you. You avoided his gaze deliberately to hide the heat that had risen to your face.

“Mm-hm.” You hummed, trying to contain your excitement as he managed to play a few basic tunes. You were so proud!

“Hey, Deku?” Came Uraraka’s voice out of nowhere. You’d forgotten she was there… Midoriya turned to her, asking her what she needed. “I’m having a hard time with this problem, can you help me out?”

Ochako smiled charmingly, tilting her head to the side in a cute way as her pink cheeks spread with her grin. You scoffed, covering it up with a fake cough when Midoriya gave you a questioning look. She wasn’t that cute.

Apparently, that was an unpopular opinion because Midoriya gingerly returned your instrument and scooched over to the end of the bed to help Uraraka with her assignment. You weren’t saying that she didn’t actually need help, but you weren’t saying that you trusted her either. You knew she was just trying to deter his attention from you and onto herself.

You sighed, standing up from the bed with a look of temporary defeat.

“Sorry, guys. I think imma leave, catch you later.” You announced, and while your back was turned you missed the look of disappointment on Midoriya’s face. You slid your guitar over your shoulder to rest on your back and slung your book bag over your other shoulder. Your green-haired classmate didn’t have much time to say goodbye before you were crossing the room to the door.

“Oh, okay I’ll see you—” the door closes before he can finish. “Later…”

. . .

The next morning you sat on the steps at the entrance of U.A. with your guitar, doing your usual morning fiddling around with a new song. The same one you started the night prior. You’d gotten pretty far, an open notebook with scrawled lyrics and music notes balance on your outstretched knee crossed casually over the other.

You used to do this while waiting for your friends to come to school, perhaps serenade them jokingly as they approached. Even after moving into your dorm, you couldn’t quite shake the habit.

The sun wasn’t ideal, but you had a giant sun hat and the appropriate clothing for being outside in it. Deku usually met you on the stairs anyways so why would you move?

“Hey there, Y/N!” You hear Deku call from behind you.

Speak of the devil.

You turned your head to look over your shoulder, flashing him a fanged smile while your finger continued dragging your pick across the strings. “Heyyy, g’morning sleepy, you’re later than usual.”

He laughed nervously, walking over to sit down on the stairs beside you. Now that you got a better look at him, you noticed how drained he looked, the bags underneath his eyes more prominent in the light of the morning sun. A gentle wind rustled his curly green hair, and his jade eyes reflected the glare of the sun, making them almost glow.

Your cool cheeks darkened and you cleared your throat, eyes darting from him to save yourself the embarrassment.

“Long night?” You asked and he nodded sheepishly. He’d spent most of the night studying with Uraraka who was unusually… enthusiastic? He wasn’t sure how to put it.

“You usually stay up with us. Was something wrong last night? You left… so suddenly.” Midoriya looked to you expectantly, eyes crinkled with concern and something else you couldn’t quite place. You tried to laugh it off in your usual cool, smooth way, playing a bit more enthusiastically in an attempt to sell it further.

“Nah, man I’m cool. I was just… I was just.” Your words failed you when you were suddenly taken back to last night, the stare Uraraka had given you, how jealous you’d felt. So much so that you just couldn’t stand being in the room any longer. The same reason the lyrics of the same song you’d been working on since then were so bitter. You couldn’t help it, really. The way Ochako looked at him sometimes sent your blood way over the boiling point.

It was like a parasite, feeding on your patience with every tiny competition for Deku’s attention until eventually one of you cracked. It wouldn’t be you.

You jumped when you felt a hand on your shoulder and whipped your head to the side to see Midoriya with a sympathetically worried expression, hand twitching on your shoulder. The coolness of your flesh crept through even your sleeves and for a moment he was mesmerized by it. He made a mental note to scribble it down in his notebook later. You felt the frosty sheen of your resolve melt under his touch. Not many had the balls to touch you.

“You were just what? Are you okay?” He asked, not sure if the surprised look of confusion swirling in your eyes as they reflected some of the morning light—even from under the huge sun hat on top of your head—meant that you were going to get angry or not. You didn’t normally respond well to others worrying about you when you could obviously take care of yourself.

“Pssh—Yeah! I’m fine, quit worrying. Wouldn’t want any of your pretty green hair falling out for me.” You chuckled, and his spotted cheeks bloomed a light pink. Did you just say he had pretty hair? You looked away from him and back to your guitar with a newly-lit smile. It was alarming how much effect this boy had on you, being able to cheer you up just by worrying for you. “And uh, if you’re free later…”

“Yes!” You blinked at him as he blurted it before you could even finish your sentence. Did he even know what you were going to say?

“Uh…”

“I-I mean, um…” Izuku blushed madly, realizing that he’d just gotten way too ahead of himself. He must sound so desperate right now! The truth is that he would’ve said yes regardless of what you asked, never the type to pass up the chance to hang with you. “S-sorry, please continue.”

“I was going to ask if you wanted s’more guitar lessons.” You giggled at his embarrassed posture, palm shielding his face from you as it reddened.

“O-only if you promise to train with me!” He blurted out without thinking, eyes shining with emerald stars as he stood up from the stairs.

He couldn’t help it. He’s been wanting to ask you to train with him for such a long time but never knew how to ask without coming off as strange. Your quirk fascinated him, and he still knew so little about it! And what better way to evaluate your quirk than in a fight?

Again you blinked, caught off-guard by his enthusiasm.

Hah, what a fanboy. Can’t blame him though, I am pretty rad.

“Deal.” You grinned, showing off your pearly-white fangs, floating into the air and strumming your guitar as you made your way inside.

#izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #midoriya #deku #bnha x reader #mha x reader #vampire!reader #bnha #mha #bnha fanfiction #blood

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thekidultlife · 4 years ago

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THE RETURN OF SUPERMAN | Lee Jihoon

Author’s Note: In the last part of TROS Jeonghan, I had mistakenly labeled Yuna as Lee Jihoon’s daughter. Please forgive me! I already edited it to lessen confusion haha. Yuna will be coming out in the next story as another member’s child, as edited. Please watch out for it, and I hope you come to love Lee Jihoon’s family in this AU, too!

NEW SERIES ALERT! While reading this fic, you will have a clue as to what series is coming next on this blog. Please watch out for it and if you see the clue, you can comment it down! :D

HYERI YOU’D BETTER READ THIS ONE!

Genre: ABSOLUTE FLUFF with traces of good ol’ angst but this is definitely a happy story so go ahead and read it!

Word count: 5,896

Lee Jihoon always had a plan. It wasn’t always written on paper or formulated to the dot (you were the one responsible for that end), but it was always there. He felt a lot better if he had things under his control. And so when he decided to enter the Return of Superman show with his friends, he wasn’t going unprepared.

Because, as he stared across at the table (mind you, sudden shivers were coming up his spine as he looked at the young toddler who looked oh so innocent—for now)…

…One could never go unprepared with Lee Yeseung.

“I mapped it out carefully, love,” he told you over breakfast. “I mapped out every single activity I am going to do with him. He’s not an easy kid, but—“

“—Who isn’t easy?” you innocently asked, eyeing your son fondly. He had his father’s eyes and the gentleness of your facial features. His pale-white skin was also his father’s, but the color of his eyes, black with a hint of brown in them, were yours. “Yeseung is a good boy, aren’t you?”

Yeseung smiled sweetly at you and giggled his cute, toddler giggle.

“You know, this child doesn’t come from my side of the family,” Jihoon taunted you as he ate. “My Yeseung is too much like you. Like mother, like son.” Jihoon was laughing to himself, pleased at making you feel pissed off early in the morning. It was a ritual he was having a hard time to break, even after five years of marriage. But when Jihoon turned his eyes to you, he stopped mid-laughter.

“What?” he said, raising both hands. “It’s true!” He pointed at his son. “Look at him! He’s hyper!”

“You are uncharacteristically talkative today,” you replied to him, your eyes narrowing. “What are you up to?”

Yeseung stared up from his bowl at his father. He was holding the bowl to his face with his hands, doing his best to quietly finish his breakfast as you had sternly told him to do. He had understood your husband’s words, and now he dropped the bowl, cereal flying all over the place as he bawled.

You stabbed your fork at a hotdog and glared daggers at your husband. “Lee Jihoon!”

Jihoon turned back to his meal. “I love you both, and I’m…” he sighed, getting up on second thought and disappearing behind to the kitchen for a minute. “I’m going to get the dishcloth.”

“I wasn’t hyper this time,” Yeseung sobbed, rubbing his eyes and putting cereal on his face. “He called me hyper again. I wasn’t hyper this time.” He wailed louder. “Why does he always call me hyper?”

You sighed and scooped the child in your arms, forgetting your breakfast. You were hoping for a quiet morning, but Jihoon just had to upset your baby again. “No, appa was just joking.”

“Yeseung-ah!” Jihoon deftly scooped up Yeseung from your arms and began smothering him with kisses. “Appa was just joking! Like we always do!”

Yeseung looked up at his appa, with tearful eyes. “I’m not hyper, right? I’m a good boy, right?”

“Exactly. A very good boy who will help appa clean up the table!”

“What activity planning were you talking about?”

Jihoon smirked at you and peppered his son with kisses. “I’m nervous, Y/N,” he said quietly, as he looked straight into your eyes, his face going serious. “That’s why I was being talkative. I rarely do this with others, except you.”

You felt your whole face flush. “What activity planning were you talking about?” you repeated your question again.

Jihoon smiled nervously. “It’s for the Return of Superman show.”

INTERVIEW WITH LEE JIHOON, 30:

JIHOON: Hello everyone, my name is Lee Jihoon. I am known by many as SEVENTEEN’s Woozi. This—(he hoists little Yeseung up his lap)—is my three-year-old, Lee Yeseung. Say hi to the camera, Yeseung-ah!

YESEUNG: (Smiles at the camera shyly and then burrows into his father’s jacket.)

WOOZI: (Smiles at his son’s shyness.) Sorry, he’s still a bit camera-shy. But we’re really looking forward to enjoying ourselves on this show! And—(Laughs self-consciously and hugs his little boy close to him.)—I hope I learn more as a dad!

Q: This was asked to the other members as well: How does it feel to have a child of your own?

JIHOON: (Laughs nervously and pats Yeseung, who was squirming on his lap.) Actually, it’s nerve-wracking.

(Silence.)

JIHOON: (Looks down at his son.) You always have to brace yourself with little Yeseung here.

Boy, were we to find out.

NARRATOR: *We are now here at the Lee residence! (Cameras pan around the lavish but minimalistic penthouse of the Lee family.) And it is a beautiful morning, with no clouds in the sky to signal any rainfall. What will this day bring for Lee-appa and little Yeseung?*

6:50 A.M.

A flutter of what seemed like paper floated into Jihoon’s face. Startled, he opened his eyes and struggled to get up quickly out of bed.

Another piece of paper—no, poorly-made paper plane—floated into his face.

He closed his eyes. Took deep breaths. Tried to shake the feeling of sleepiness and called, as calmly as he could, “Yeseung-ah, where did you get all these papers?”

A giggle and a high-pitched squeal of delight was all the answer he could get.

“LEE YESEUNG!!!”

Lee Jihoon jumped out of bed the moment his eyes caught the paper. Groggily, and feeling a little bit off because it was still early, he reached out and snatched a paper plane zooming in toward him. When his eyes had adjusted enough, he looked at the paper. Oh, cool. His baby boy was making paper planes. What an artist! He smiled sleepily, and was about to say a word of praise to his little artist when he looked at the paper again.

Panic and stress, too early to be felt in the morning, seized his heart. He was suddenly wide awake.

Aishh, this kid!!!

Lee Yeseung, his son, was making paper planes out of his music sheets.

HIS LIFE’S WORK. HIS MUSIC SHEETS.

His mind going insane, he bounded across the room with uncharacteristic quickness (it was still early in the morning, mind you), and flung the door open. He was already beginning to panic internally. He was sure he had locked his office at the den when he went into bed at 3 a.m. He was very sure. He wouldn’t have forgotten. But he followed the paper trail—Breathe, bruh, breathe, he kept telling himself, not stopping to look at which song sheet got ripped by his little troll—and with utter disbelief, stared at his wide-open office door.

He distinctly remembered what folks kept telling him about this penthouse. “The doors, cupboards and the built-in closets are definitely (emphasis on DEFINITELY) childproof. You won’t have a problem, even if you get quintuplets running around and playing horse.”

Now, Lee Jihoon knew better. For his kid, even if he just has ONE Lee Yeseung, all the childproofing in the world would not be able to work.

“Yeseung-ah,” he gently chided, as he stared helplessly at the door and the little boy on the floor, surrounded by headsets, pens, papers, song sheets, and other stuff that he had religiously put into what he had considered “safe zones”. Now, he would be much more cautious when dealing with his boy. “What did you do?”

“Paper planes!” the kid squealed in delight, throwing another newly-made paper plane into the air. Jihoon forced himself to look away from the plane circling above them; he forced himself not to see that that was his FIRST finished lyric sheet for “Adore U”. This kid knew how to pull triggers to make his dad crazy, that’s for sure. Jihoon was doing his best not to freak out. He loved his little baby more than the song sheets. He kept telling himself that HE LOVED HIS KID MORE THAN THOSE SONG SHEETS THAT HE’D STAYED UP NIGHTS FOR. YEP. NOT FREAKING OUT.

“That…that was a piece with sentimental value…” the cameras caught Jihoon’s internally-freaking-out-I-don’t-know-how-to-handle-this-mess face, picking up the sheets that he could still salvage. The cameras also panned at the safety latches that were expertly unlatched (some were even unlatched with what looked to be like bite marks and SCISSORS), and the outlet caps that were—you guessed it—uncapped. Nothing closed remained closed. It was a good thing, though, that Jihoon’s treasure chest of other composing mementos was one with a padlock. Nothing beats a good, old padlock, he thought to himself with a sigh of relief. Not even childproof crap compared to it.

NARRATOR: *Oh, no! It looks like little Yeseung has made quite a mess! And with his dad’s most precious music sheets!*

“You won’t have a problem,” they said. “Childproof,” they said. Wow. Even with quintuplets, huh?

It took only one Lee Yeseung, Jihoon thought to himself, to unlatch three “safety” latches on his office door. Just one, bright, hyper, adorably troll-like little boy with an adorable giggle that was making his heart melt right now, wearing nothing but a T-shirt and his nappie, and holding a ripped-up song sheet entitled—OH NO.

“LEE YESEUNG!!!”

INTERVIEW WITH LEE JIHOON, 30:

JIHOON: (Holds his head in his hands for a few seconds before sighing deeply). He tore up my latest work. My little boy tore up my latest work. This is so…(groans and laughs at the same time) Seriously, I don’t know what to expect of my kid anymore. He just keeps doing whatever, and…it’s…(Laughs softly now.) I don’t know how my wife manages to keep him at bay. They’re together basically fifteen hours everyday, right after work, and she always manages to teach him how to do this and that without freaking out. Now I’M freaking out. That song sheet he’d ripped up had taken me hours to write, and I’ve only finished it right before I went to bed today. I don’t know if I’d still be able to salvage it. (Looks at the camera shyly and smirks.) But this is okay for the most part. Kids sometimes do this. (Laughs sheepishly at his excuse for Yeseung’s paper plane incident.) He’s probably doing payback because I called him a “hyper kid” yesterday.

Q: Will you still be able to write that song down because he ripped up that one? We know that you also have deadlines to meet.

JIHOON: (Nods confidently.) It’s a good thing that I always put files on backup. I never write without saving data, because accidents like this could happen. But still I have to tell Yeseung (Bites back a smile) not to mess with my work again. Even though my heart just bursts when I discipline him, I really have to do it so he learns that it’s not okay to rip up sheets and make paper planes out of them. (Nods again, as if still not quite believing what happened.) Paper planes. Wow. I didn’t teach him that, but he sure knows how to make one.

NARRATOR: *We are now entering the Lee playroom, where Jihoon-appa is going to talk to little Yeseung! What will happen here? Let’s find out!*

7:00 A.M.

A very repentant little Yeseung was escorted inside the playroom. His eyes, very much like his dad's, were now looking pleadingly at his father, who was having a very hard time keeping a stern face with his son. Because he felt like bailing out on this “scolding session”, as he liked to dub it, Jihoon avoided his son’s eyes, and the cute pleas that followed as he set two little chairs facing each other.

“Appa,” Yeseung called out to him, his baby voice quivering along with his lip as he spoke. “I’m really, really sorry for making a mess. Appa. Appa.”

“I know you’re sorry,” Jihoon answered, leaning down to pick Yeseung up and to set him on one chair. Then he tried to look inconspicuous and stern as he sat down on the other one, trying not to mind the cameras and the cameramen who were watching the scene with smiles on their faces. “But we still have to talk about what happened. Now, Lee Yeseung, what did you do? Why is Appa upset?”

There was silence for a while. Jihoon wondered for a few seconds if his kid even knew what was wrong about what he did.

Then, just as he was about to give up, Yeseung, whose eyes were by this time zooming in on his train set, was scratching his head. “Um…because I made a mess?” He whispered, his lisp making the question comical. He looked at his dad questioningly.

Jihoon, looking at Yeseung, found the expression so similar to yours whenever you would look up to him to ask a question. The similarity of the expression struck him that he couldn’t help but become benevolent towards this cute little tyke. “Exactly. What kind of mess?”

“I knew it.” Suddenly, Yeseung sniffled. His bottom lip was trembling, and Jihoon was panicking again. He was NOT allowed to cry. He had ripped up his dad’s song sheets, a vital part of his dad’s source of income! Jihoon was aghast as the little boy sobbed uncontrollably. “Did I make too many paper airplanes, Appa?” He began crying uncontrollably now. “I…I thought you would like them. Th-that w-w-was wh-why I…I made them.” Yeseung hiccupped between words, his tears streaming down his red cheeks, his eyes squeezed shut.

This kid is MISSING THE POINT! Who cares if he makes a thousand of those? I wouldn’t care. I’d love it even. But the material he used to make them…Jihoon took a deep breath. “Don’t cry, Lee Yeseung,” Jihoon warned, an edge to his voice, like he had heard you do whenever you would scold Yeseung. “You messed up Appa’s office. What did Eomma and Appa tell you about messing up Appa’s office?”

“You…” Yeseung looked at him with eyes that mirrored hurt. “You…” Hiccup. “Don’t…” Hiccup. “Like…” Hiccup. “My…” Hiccup. “PAPER PLANES!!!”

“No! I like them!”

At that point. Yeseung bawled like the baby he was. “I’m…” Hiccup. “Sorry!!!” He cried again.

“It’s true. I like them!”

You were supposed to be scolding him, Lee Jihoon, Jihoon could hear you chiding, NOT giving in the minute he cries like this.

Of course, Jihoon knew that. But he just sat there, speechless for a few seconds before coming down on his knees and consoling his baby. He really couldn’t be upset with this one for long, hard as he might try! “Hey, I liked your paper planes,” he whispered gently, rubbing his boy’s back and scooping him up into his arms, walking to and from one side of the room to the other. “You did great! I liked them.”

Yeseung looked up from Jihoon’s now-wet shirt where he had burrowed his face in to study his appa’s face. “Really? You…” Hiccup. “Really…” Hiccup. “Liked it…FOR REAL?”

Jihoon nodded, relieved to see that Yeseung had stopped sobbing his hurt little heart out. “I did. But what I didn’t like about them was that you made them out of my music sheets. What did Eomma and I tell you about that?”

“I…” he sniffled. “I wasn’t supposed to tear it up like I did.”

“But you did. Now, are you going to do that again?”

Yeseung, bless his heart, wiped his tears and shook his head. His eyes, now hopefully alight again, were looking at his father. “Not ever again.”

“You promise?” Jihoon looked at his little boy with a twinkle in his eye.

“I promise,” Yeseung solemnly replied.

“That’s my boy!” Jihoon kissed him on the cheek. “How about I get the ‘I Love You’ kiss to be sure that we’re friends again?”

Yeseung’s face lit up just like that. Using his hands wetted by tears, he held his father’s face on both and kissed Jihoon on the nose to start. He began to chant this unique family ritual in his irresistibly endearing, sing-song voice. “Appa, appa, I love you!” Left cheek kiss. “I love you!” Right cheek kiss. “I love you!” Nose kiss.

Jihoon laughed and did the same. “Yeseung, Yeseung, I love you!” Left cheek kiss. “I love you!” Right cheek kiss. “I love you!” Nose kiss.

“There!” Yeseung looked at him cheekily and patted his face, as if consoling him, as if his dad were the one who did something wrong. “We’re friends again now!” Then he burrowed his face into his dad’s shirt and said something that sounded like, “I wuv youuuu”.

Jihoon just stayed like that, as if time became suspended for him. Never had he felt these unexplainable emotions inside him right now. And, as was characteristic of him, he couldn’t say a word. This feeling, with his baby boy tucked into him so snugly, was too precious for words.

Soft laughs could be heard from the cameramen, breaking his awed reverie. He smiled shyly at one camera, and exited the room, still carrying his early-morning troublemaker.

And so father and son became reconciled after the paper plane incident, happily playing around with each other and laughing, the way they always do whenever they are together.

INTERVIEW WITH LEE JIHOON, 30:

JIHOON: (Smiles shyly.) I’m really happy that I got to be a part of this show. Being part of an idol group is amazing, and the companionship and the effort each of us put to make SEVENTEEN survive the challenges and achieve milestones cannot be compared to anything…but it’s true that we sometimes miss out on family life. The tours, the training, the endless engagements and other things that work requires us to do, are often at the expense of our time with our personal and family lives. I’m really thankful for shows like this, where the line between career and personal lives could be blurred for a few enjoyable days to show people that we, too, have families, and we want to spend time with them as much as we could. (Shows a picture of Yeseung.) This was taken during Yeseung’s second birthday party. He had just gotten his front teeth then, and you could see that there (points at Yeseung’s grinning mouth in the picture.)…he’s cute, isn’t he? (Laughs shyly again.) But the reason why I was showing this is because I would like to tell you that this was one of the times when I wasn’t able to make it for an important family event. It’s a good thing that my wife understands enough, loving enough, and patient enough to go on and do things even when I am not there. She has never resented me for having less time with them as I’d like. (Smiles briefly.) But here I am, and I promise myself that I will enjoy these moments with my baby.

9:00 A.M.

NARRATOR: *Little artist Yeseung is going to daycare today. Will he enjoy his day with friends today? Let’s find out!*

“THAT’S NOT A STAR!!!”

Yeseung’s eyes started to water with tears as he looked at Eunha, his girl crush since forever, glaring at him with her tiny arms crossed around her chest.

The daycare toddlers had been told by their teacher to draw shapes with different kinds of crayons and pencils, all neatly laid out on the tables. The kids, sitting patiently on their chairs and putting their creative minds to work, were seated three by three on each table. But the cameras were zoomed in on Lee Yeseung and Jeon Eunha’s table. They were supposed to have another classmate on their table, but a friend of theirs wasn’t able to come to daycare today. Cameramen smiled as they panned swiftly to Lee Yeseung, whose lower lip had started to tremble, a sure sign that he was about to cry. Again.

Beautiful Jeon Eunha, Jeon Wonwoo’s bright little baby girl, dressed in a white dress and baby blue cardigan, would not stop telling Yeseung that he had made an unusual drawing of a star. Therefore, it could not be a star.

A cameraman zoomed in on the artwork in question, and he had to agree. The huge yellow-and-orange blob in the middle of Lee Yeseung’s paper did not look like a star at first glance.

But how could we say that to such a cute little boy who looked even cuter in his navy trousers, cream-colored sweater and round-rimmed glasses? How?

“B-but it is a star,” he sobbed as he pointed at his artwork with a yellow crayon. “See? It--it even looks like it’s burning bright!”

“It’s not a star, Lee Yeseung,” Eunha insisted, her beautiful chin arched up imperiously. “Stars do not look like that!”

Yeseung cried. “Don’t fight with each other, Yeseung and Eunha,” Yoon Jae Eun wisely shouted from the other table where she was also drawing shapes with the Choi twins. “Don’t cry anymore, Lee Yeseung!”

Eunha saw that she had made Yeseung cry, and she stopped crossing her arms and sat down next to him. Embarrassed because he could not stop crying, she awkwardly patted his shoulder.

“Don’t cry,” she softly consoled, “don’t cry.”

“No I don’t wanna cry,” Choi Seungjae sang from the other table. Soft laughter emanated from the cameremen’s different perches. Seriously, Choi Seungjae?

NARRATOR: *Aww, the argument between Lee Yeseung and Jeon Eunha is now ending with a warm gesture from Eunha! How cute these two are!*

“I’m sorry for making you cry,” Eunha whispered, her braids swishing as she leaned close to Yeseung. Her pretty, almond-shaped eyes, which shone fiercely a few moments ago, now looked kind. And Yeseung, seeing that his friend was being nice to him again, gave Eunha a wobbly smile.

“I can show you how to make a better star. May I?”

Yeseung nods, his eyes filled with unashamed wonder again at Eunha.

Watching from a floor-to-ceiling window facing the tables, Jihoon and Wonwoo stood watching their kids.

Lee Jihoon groaned and put his hand to his face. “Wow.”

Wonwoo looked over at Jihoon and grinned. “I told you: let’s match them up.”

“Stop that! They’re so young!” But Jihoon laughed and pressed a hand to the windowpane, his watchful eyes never leaving his son, who was now coloring with Eunha. “You’re right, though. My Yeseung likes Eunha very much.”

Wonwoo nodded wisely, very much like his daughter. “I guess he liked her from the very moment he met Eunha.”

INTERVIEW WITH LEE JIHOON, 30:

JIHOON: (Rubs his chin thoughtfully.) When Yeseung was about two years old, my wife and I noticed that he was having a hard time trying to speak. I thought we were just both paranoid parents since he was our first baby, but when we relayed our concerns to our family doctor, he immediately referred us to a speech-language pathologist, who confirmed our fears. This pathologist told us that Yeseung had the beginning stages of a “speech sound disorder”. Yeseung checks the box on the symptoms that this disorder is known widely for: not using consonants when babbling, using mainly vowels or resorting to gestures to communicate even at age 2...we were really--how do I put this--distraught, that our little boy could have that kind of speech impediment. But the doctor told us not to worry, and said that because we found out about Yeseung’s speech disorder earlier, we could treat it with a higher chance of success.

(Short pause as Jihoon takes a drink.)

JIHOON: We took him to a lot of individual therapy sessions for the first few months, but there were no changes. We took less hours from work as much as we could to spend more time with him. Yeseung was a bright kid. He knew that there was something wrong and I could see that he wanted to help us make him better, but he could only do so much.

(Looks lost in thought for a while.)

JIHOON: I remember thinking during that time, “My baby boy is about to attend daycare and then preschool--if we don’t have success in therapeutic treatment, he may have a hard time at school.” (Looks at his hands.) I remember nights when I would carry him in my arms at night, rock him to sleep, and then go to my wife, who would be crying silently. I would hold her close, too. Where words sound empty, gestures fill. (Smiles sadly.) It was a very hard time for her because the both of us had demanding jobs, and there are particularly hard days at work, which adds to the pressure of making sure that our child gets the love, care and attention that he needs. Sometimes, as a parent, you feel so inadequate because even though you love your child with all of your being, it’s...it’s not enough. And you have to learn to accept that you aren’t enough, and that you have to learn harder to wait. I learned that as we helped Yeseung overcome his speech sound disorder.

JIHOON: (Pauses for a while, then suddenly smiles.) Things took a turn for the better when Wonwoo and his family visited on a Monday. My wife was at work and I was the one with Yeseung then, because it was my day off. Wonwoo brought Eunha to Yeseung, and I could still remember Yeseung’s face (Gestures wildly with his hands, eyes smiling.), all bright and cheerful and all smiles--he only had his four front teeth, then! I remember that they played together a lot, and Wonwoo and I talked all afternoon about...dad stuff. (Laughs lightly.) Who knew, right? Who knew that we’d get to this point. We got married at about the same time, we had kids that are separated only by months--it was an amazing conversation that I still recall fondly.

(The cameraman nods agreement at Jihoon’s comments about how fast time flies. Jihoon gives him a high-five.)

JIHOON: But what amazed me was when we ended the day and I was carrying Yeseung, as we waved goodbye to our visitors, Yeseung shouted out, “Jeon Eunha, bye-bye!” (Looks at the camera, smiling incredulously.) If anyone could have seen my face when he said those three words. He said it clearly, without any sign of the impediment he was being treated with. I tried to make him say it again, but he looked up at me and I knew that I had to wait a little longer for him to speak clearly on his own. I didn’t have to wait longer. During dinner later that night, my wife and I were surprised. He suddenly said, “Jeon Eunha. I like Jeon Eunha.”

(Wonderment from the background of the interview. Jihoon nods, smiling and then shakes his head in disbelief.)

JIHOON: (Looks at the camera again, smirking his FAMOUS SMIRK.) To everyone who is watching, yes, it’s true. Yeseung’s first clear sentence wasn’t about his parents. (Shakes his head again.) It was about how he liked Jeon Eunha.

12:00 P.M.

“LEE YESEUNG!!!”

Jihoon’s piercing cry of alarm could be heard all around the whole daycare center. Cameras panned at him quickly, standing, distraught and in shock, as he watched his toddler tumble down the supposedly safe slide at the playroom, head first.

As fast as his feet could carry him, Jihoon was beside his son at once. He cradled Yeseung’s head on his lap and he checked for bumps. His heart raced inside so fast he felt like he was about to faint. He recorded today in his mind: Lee Yeseung’s first slide accident. He wanted no more accidents in the future.

“Why did you slide down like that?” he chided worriedly. He kissed Yeseung’s head over and over again and hugged his boy close to him. “You’re not allowed to slide that way again, are we clear?” When he did not get a response from the little tyke, he repeated, more firmly, “Are we clear, Lee Yeseung?”

“Hehehe.”

The gurgling giggles that only four-year-old toddlers can produce vibrated in Lee Jihoon’s chest. Surprised, he looked down at Yeseung in his arms.

Lee Yeseung wasn’t crying.

Lee Yeseung was laughing.

As in bursting to the seams with laughter.

“Lee Yeseung, I didn’t hear you reply to me. Are we clear?” Jihoon intentionally made his voice sound sterner than usual. “Are. We. Clear? Or do I have to make you face the wall like your Eomma does?”

The little lip trembled again. Jihoon thought Yeseung was about to have another crying session, but something different happened.

The trembling lip was a moment’s hesitation, in a toddler’s language.

Yeseung reached up, cupped his father’s face in his small hands, and kissed him on the cheek.

“Lee Ye--”

--another kiss on the cheek. Followed by a giggle.

“You look funny when you’re mad, Appa,” Yeseung giggled again. “Funny, funny, funny!”

“Lee Yeseung,” Lee Jihoon groaned. Again, he received a kiss on the cheek.

“Don’t be mad at Yeseung anymore!”

“LEE YESEEEUNNGGGG!!!”

With that, Lee Yeseung bounded away, towards the direction where Choi Seungjae’s voice came from. His playmates were calling again.

And Lee Jihoon--while charmed and red-faced by his son’s “kiss-on-the-cheek diplomacy”--still watched worriedly. He had felt a huge bump that he knew would soon grow into a humongous one later. He knew that you would be furious the moment you see that bump on Yeseung’s forehead.

Sighing and completely resigned to his fate as a worried dad and soon-to-be-interrogated husband, he watched as Yeseung played tag with his hyper friends.

Oops. He had to remove that word from his vocabulary. He mentally slapped his head. Yeseung doesn’t like being called hyper. Yeseung won’t like it if Jihoon described his friends as hyper, too, he knew.

“I love my son,” he repeated over and over. “I love my son. I love my wife. This will be a great day.”

And of course it will be!

8:00 P.M.

NARRATOR: *We are back at the Lee Residence! Looks like little Lee Yeseung is telling his mom about his day while they are playing with his Legos. Let’s look at what they are doing!*

It was a rule in your house that Lee Yeseung will only be allowed to play with his iPad for a certain amount of hours, and with parental supervision. Nights were reserved for non-gadget games and quality time as a family.

Which is why, after dinner, cameras slowly zoomed in on Yeseung’s bedroom, where you, Jihoon and Yeseung were all sprawled on the padded floor, helping the little one play with his Lego blocks. You, of course, had your face blurred on the cameras for privacy purposes. On his small bed, tidily decorated and loud with Toy Story designs (Woody was Yeseung’s favorite cartoon character), were Yeseung’s pajamas and socks, folded neatly and waiting to be worn by their owner when bedtime approached.

You helped Lee Yeseung build a ship with his Lego blocks, and Lee Jihoon sat on one side, pen and paper in hand. He had been trying to salvage what he could still remember about his latest work, which had been torn apart and made into paper planes, now hanging on the ceiling above. Yeseung had insisted, and you had overruled Jihoon’s protestations. Jihoon had given in and helped you and Yeseung hang the paper planes onto the ceiling with different colored strings.

“Eunha and I had a fight,” Yeseung dutifully reported to you as he skilfully attached a Lego to complete the hull of the ship.

“Aww. Now that’s a story I haven’t heard about.” you said consolingly at your son before turning to Jihoon, whispering fiercely, “Was this before or after our baby got a bump on his head?”

Jihoon stopped writing. “Ouch. That hurts. I was watching him all the time when he slid the wrong way, love!”

You made faces at Jihoon and turned back to Yeseung. The ship was almost completed. “Why did you have a fight?”

“She told me that my star did not look like a star.” Yeseung’s face twisted again when he mentioned what happened, but he did not cry. “But it was a star, Eommai! I even made it burn brightly.”

You were taken by surprise at the reason for the fight and decided to be gentle. “Well...we learned about what stars look like, right? Remember? You and Eomma made stars together?”

Yeseung nodded and looked up at you with sad eyes. “I remember.”

“So…” you purse your lips. “What did your star look like?”

Yeseung immediately got up and skipped to his small drawing table, where he picked up a piece of paper. “Here, Eomma! And I promise you, it’s really a star!”

You looked at the blob of yellow on the paper and could not speak for a moment. Ah. Maybe they were learning about shapes earlier, and to everyone in the classroom, this did not look like a star shape. But you knew how Yeseung was thinking. You glanced at your son appreciatively, smiling at him.

“It is a star,” you confirmed, and Yeseung beamed at you.

By nine o’clock, after tucking Yeseung in to sleep, cameras were still trained on you and Jihoon, sitting next to your toddler’s bed.

Jihoon cleared his throat. “So...is it really a star?”

You looked at Jihoon quickly and laughed softly. Then you reached for Yeseung’s iPad on the bedside table where you were leaning.

“See for yourself.”

You opened the iPad and showed Jihoon a recent video that Yeseung had just watched. It was about the solar system and the stars.

No stars shown on the video looked five-pointed. All stars shown were balls of fire, burning brightly.

“Eunha was right when she showed Yeseung how to draw the star shape that we use in art,” you said softly, closing the iPad, “but Yeseung was thinking differently. He was picturing a real star. He knew what they really looked like and he wanted to draw it well.”

“Hence the blob.” Jihoon was holding Yeseung’s artwork. “He’s a genius.

You laughed again. “Yes. Hence the blob of burning yellow.”

You both laughed, and watched Yeseung’s deep breaths. Then you turned off the lamp. “Let’s go. He’s asleep.”

“Remind me to get padlocks for my office.”

You laughed again.

Cameras panned away from Yeseung’s room as you and Jihoon retreated to your bedroom. But, faintly, just before the scene was completed, Jihoon was heard speaking in low tones.

“Remember those thirty nights we spent together, love?”

“Shhhh! Lee Jihoon!”

Mercifully, the scene had already been completed. Lee Jihoon’s teasing laugh and your noises of protest went unrecorded and your bedroom door closed.

So there ended another night at the Lee residence.

3:04 A.M.

Or so we thought.

The soft patter of footsteps and a little figure in pajamas could be heard quietly sneaking into a forbidden part of the house.

Click.

“Let’s make boats for Eomma,” a voice sang in the dark.

An automatic light came on in the forbidden room, followed by the sound of paper being ripped. Rip, rip, rip. And singing! But you and Jihoon did not hear all the commotion happening. The cameras, though, recorded the sneaky action.

You better hope that ripping sound is not coming out of your books…

…because Lee Yeseung is about to make you a lot of boats.

EPISODES | Ep. 1 | Ep. 2 | after-party | Ep. 3 | only us | Ep. 4 | afterglow

- Admin Leanne

#seventeen #svtcreations #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen woozi #lee jihoon #lee jihoon fluff

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