#psst you can see one of those guides on the shelf behind her!

[spirk-trek]

Julia Howarth, editor for The Communicator (a Star Trek fanzine/newsletter), 1975.

"There is a new baby in the family. His name is Randy. He is grey, with green teeth and a great carriage. He typed the entire COMMUNICATOR. He is my typewriter, which I up and bought with $20 that should have gone to the electric bill!" "[The Communicator] was assembled by literally cutting and pasting. Articles were cut out and glued on the pages. Artwork was also cut out and glued to the page. The titles and page numbers were hand written or calligraphed. Sources of artwork were fannish artists, prints of Star Trek film clips, TV Guides and newspapers, and photocopies of pictures from professional magazines. We then took the masters to one of the few copy shops available in the 1970s to print the pages. The magazine was hand folded and collated, then stapled with a tiny Swingline Cub stapler. This magazine was a very amateur labor of love."

[tothemeadow]

Commissioned by @hinokami-s

Kamado Tanjiro x OC

- The tension between Tanjiro and Hayami has always been too thick. However, at a rather eventful party, Tanjiro finds himself to have more luck than he thought. -

warnings: spicy, mentions of underage drinking

words: 4.9k

-

“Oi, oi, oi! Wake up Tanjiro!”

Smack!

“Ah!” Tanjiro yelps, shooting straight up in his chair. Glancing around frantically, he blinks owlishly at his surroundings, at the countless shelves of beaten-down books. An array of textbooks is sitting on the table before him, lone notebooks by their sides. Tanjiro groans as he peels the sheet of homework sticking to his face. Dammit, looks like he fell asleep while doing homework.

“Jeez, and I thought I was having problems with my math classes,” his “savior,” Sumiyuri Hayami, teases. She gives a twinkle of a laugh, her pretty eyes gleaming with mirth. “What gives, Tanjiro?” she continues, her voice turning serious but the smile never leaving her face. “You’re usually not one to fall asleep in school like this.”

“Tell me about it,” Tanjiro groans, rubbing the tiredness away from his eyes with his fists. “What time is it?”

With a hum, Hayami rolls up the sleeve of her sweater and checks the watch on her wrist. “Just after four o’clock. What, you think I wouldn’t you hiding away, taking a power nap?”

An ashamed warmth blooms in Tanjiro’s chest – he knows Hayami is only teasing, but he can’t shake away the familiar feeling of guilt. It’s such a heavy weight in his gut, tight like a knot and unwilling to come undone. He remembers her words from earlier, along with the messages in their text conversation.

Tanjiro, let’s hang out after school!!! Can we go shopping? I promise to buy anything you want!

It’s not that he didn’t forget to do meet up with Hayami or anything. No, he simply wanted to get a head start on his assignments, nestled away by the back window in the library. Things like this just happen.

“Don’t think too hard,” Hayami says, jabbing Tanjiro’s forehead with a manicured finger. “I can practically see the gears turning in your head. Keep that up and smoke’s going to start coming out of your ears.”

“I’m not Inosuke,” Tanjiro grumbles. Nevertheless, he shoves his school supplies into his backpack and draws himself to a stand, throwing his arms above his heads and stretching out his back. “I’m really sorry about falling asleep – honest!” he babbles as he slings his backpack on.

Hayami flashes Tanjiro a soft smile. She’s always looked pretty while smiling, petal lips encasing a neat row of pearly teeth. It’s at times like this where Tanjiro’s reminded that Hayami is regarded as one of the academy’s Three Beauties. He hesitates for just a moment, nearly struck into some fan-crazed silence as he ogles that gorgeous smile.

Reaching out a pale hand, Hayami clasps onto Tanjiro’s before turning around and guiding him towards the library exit. While it’s not the first time the two friends have held hands, it always amazes Tanjiro how graceful Hayami’s hands are, how lithe and delicate. Compared to the thick callouses on his from working in the family bakery for so long, he enjoys the stark difference in how soft her hands feel.

“W-wait!” Tanjiro exclaims. What is with him today, seriously? He’s hardly one to ever babble on like this! “Don’t you have archery practice today?”

“You worry too much!” Hayami throws over her shoulder. She doesn’t let Tanjiro go, opting to pick up speed until the two are running past the school’s gates, taking off into the surrounding neighborhood and to who knows where.

A multitude of colors swirls around Tanjiro’s head as he rushes past houses and maple and gingko trees alike. Hayami’s long ponytail swishes behind her with each pounding step, her messenger bag bouncing along with the movements. Now, Tanjiro’s long grown used to the pure energy that seems to seep from Hayami’s very pores, but he can’t but smile in return whenever she flashes him bubbly grins. If only they could stop so he could stand there and admire her smile for as long as he wants. He knows it’s a foolish wish, something incredibly silly, but he commits it to memory nevertheless.

Before long, the residential neighborhood melts into a street lined with markets and stores; cars slowly make their way down the street, most likely heading home from a long day of work. It’s only then that Hayami slows down, leaving herself and Tanjiro panting for a much-needed breath. Still, the two smile stupidly at each other, too overcome with the sheer blinding joy of being in each other’s company.

Again, it’s silly.

“I want to go clothes shopping,” Hayami suggests, smoothing down the front of her sweater. “I’m feeling… saucy.”

Tanjiro blinks at her, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Saucy…?”

“You know, Tanjiro, sometimes you’ve just got to feelyourself.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

Hayami waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about it. But,” she puts an index finger up, “I will be picking out a brand new outfit for you! Come on, Tanjiro, don’t you think you need to be spoiled?”

Before he can even give a proper response, Hayami starts dragging him down the street. Tanjiro flushes at her choice of words. What did she mean by spoiled? It’s not going to be something bad, is it? No, Tanjiro shouldn’t think like that. He isn’t some pervert like Zenitsu (as much as he loves the guy, Zenitsu is pretty greasy), but there’s just something about the way those words rolled off so easily from Hayami’s tongue that it makes Tanjiro hope for something more.

Still, he lets her do as she pleases, mindlessly letting himself be pulled along by storefronts and throngs of other passersby. For a split second, he wonders just how he and Hayami look in the eyes of the strangers. Do they look like… a couple? Tanjiro swallows heavily at the thought.

Yeah, he wishes.

Hayami makes a sudden turn, then, heading towards a chic little boutique. The outside is completely white and framed by all white trimming, but splotches of green and pinky hues disrupt the monotonous tones. Tanjiro admires the hanging pots outside, the pretty buds and vines hanging low over the wicker. Tanjiro’s throat goes dry once he sees the inside of the store; the wooden floor practically gleams under the bright lights, delicate vines and fairy lights dangle from the walls, and racks upon racks of clothing freckle the shop’s floor. He can feel the expensiveness of the atmosphere seep into his skin. Whatever kinds of clothes they sell here, it probably costs more than what Tanjiro’s family makes in a month.

“Uh,” he starts, nervously scratching at his cheek, “Hayami… When you said you wanted to buy me an outfit, you didn’t mean stuff like this, right?”

Lightly smacking his hand away, Hayami pinches Tanjiro’s cheek instead. “I said I was going to spoil you, didn’t I? Let me do it this once.”

“But-“

“Please?” Hayami coos, pressing her full lips into a pout and flashing Tanjiro a pair of puppy eyes. He can’t deny that the expression makes his stomach do flips.

Tanjiro sighs. “Okay…”

With an excited clap of her hands and a delightful giggle, Hayami takes off into the store, weaving between the racks and searching for anything that catches her eye. Meanwhile, Tanjiro picks a rack close to him and mindlessly thumbs the delicate fabrics, wincing whenever he spots a price tag. And, just like he thought, they are all way out of his allowance range.

“Tanjiro, come over here!” Hayami calls out a couple minutes later. Tanjiro crosses to where she stands, taking extra care as to not bump into anything and potentially ruin its value. A silky shirt is perched between her slender fingers, olive tone in color. It’s nice, that much is for sure. Turning on her heel, Hayami holds the shirt up before Tanjiro, mentally determining whether or not it’d be a suitable fit. “Try this on,” she proclaims, shoving the shirt into Tanjiro’s arms.

The silk practically feels like nothing in Tanjiro’s hold. “This looks pretty fancy,” Tanjiro says, unease threading his words. “Are you sure I could pull this off?”

“Of course you can!” Hayami chirps, pushing Tanjiro in the direction of the curtained changing rooms. “Trust me, Tanjiro. I knowwhat’s going to look great on you. Ooo, I’ll have to find bottoms to match!” Hurriedly, she takes off, heading over to a shelf of jeans.

With another sigh, Tanjiro walks to the changing rooms; pulling the curtain shut behind him, he makes quick work of undoing his tie and shirt. Carefully, ever so carefully, he pulls the silky shirt on and buttons it closed. Although he shouldn’t be surprised, but Hayami was right. She did know what would look great on him. The olive color compliments his honeyed skin perfectly, and the shape it provides showcases the muscle he’s gained throughout his teen years. He just doesn’t look good, he looks stunning.

“Psst, Tanjiro! Did you put it on?” Hayami’s voice rings from the other side of the curtain.

Humming, Tanjiro turns away from the mirror, pulling the curtain open and revealing himself to Hayami. Hayami claps happily, a wide grin breaking her face. “I knew it would look great! Here, try these on with it,” she says, thrusting a pair of dark jeans towards him. “Go on, put them on! You can thank me later for when you see how awesome you’re going to look.”

Doing as told, Tanjiro sheepishly pulls the curtain to a close and sets the jeans to the side. His blood pounds in his ears at the thought of Hayami being right there while he’s changing, more so since he’s literally taking off his pants. Pushing the thought to the side (after yet another mental scolding to not act like Zenitsu), Tanjiro quickly puts the jeans on and opens the curtain once more.

“Oh my god,” Hayami breathes, clutching her hands to her chest. “Look at you!”

Tanjiro clears his throat and hopes the blush on his face isn’t too noticeable. “Is it that good?”

Hayami nods her head, but then she steps closer. Tanjiro’s breath catches in his throat as Hayami tucks the shirt into his pants, her fingers skimming beneath the waist of the jeans. Tanjiro’s face explodeswith a violent blush, his body turning entirely rigid. “Uh, Hayami…?” he squeaks.

Has she no shame? No embarrassment? But no, once look at her face tells Tanjiro that she is completely serious.

He nearly sighs in relief when her lithe hands leave his pants, but then they’re shooting upwards, up towards the top buttons of the silk shirt. She pops the first few buttons loose, exposing a sliver of honeyed skin. Hayami steps back, then, placing her hands on her hips and humming in approval at her handiwork.

“There,” she says, flashing Tanjiro a smile, “that’s better.”

Actually, Tanjiro shouldn’t be surprised – Hayami is big into fashion overall – but the mere fact that she was that close and that she touched him has his stomach doing somersaults and heart begging to leap from his chest. Still, he forces himself to turn around, to look back at the reflection staring at him. And – much to his pleasant surprise – Tanjiro likes what he sees. The slight changes really pull the outfit together, bring attention to the shape of his shoulders and the taper of his waist. He looks… handsome.

“Told you,” Hayami singsongs, a smug expression adorning her features.

Despite the heavy feeling of embarrassment still settled on his chest, Tanjiro smiles lightly, eyes glancing over the expensive outfit. Maybe it’s the look in his eyes or the expression he wears, but Hayami lays a reassuring hand on Tanjiro’s shoulder and gives it a tight squeeze.

“Remember: spoiling. Come on, Tanjiro, get changed and then we can go out to eat.”

“Wait, I thought you wanted to buy an outfit for yourself…?”

Hayami holds a finger to her lips, a sneaky glint in her eyes. “I never said such a thing.” She winks. “Now, come on, tiger – get your clothes back on so we can ditch this joint. I’m starving.”

It’s only a short time later that the two find themselves in a coffee shop, tucked away against a cream-colored wall. A neat, crisp paper tote sits on the chair next to Tanjiro while Hayami sits on the one directly across from him. Hayami mindlessly sips at her tea, casually scrolling through her phone. Tanjiro, on the other hand, busies himself with one of the numerous magazines scattered around the shop. It’s one of the beauty kind – meant for fashion, skincare, makeup, the regular works. He’s somewhat familiar with it due to the fact that Nezuko reads the exact same thing at home.

His eyes scan over an add meant for a type of facial moisturizer. It seems simple enough, clean and straight to the point, but when his eyes flicker over to the next page, they nearly bulge from his very skull.

There’s a picture of Hayami.

And no, not just any picture, but a closeup of her beautiful face, relaxed and poised in a way that only a model could pull off. Tanjiro’s well aware of the situation at Hayami’s home, how her mother is a cold, power hungry woman that craves nothing more than all of the wealth in the world. Needless to say, it isn’t much of a surprise that she capitalizes on her daughter’s extraordinary looks, forcing her to do photoshoots at whatever cost. The mere thought of it leaves Tanjiro sick to the stomach, knowing that a parent could treat their child in such a vile way for personal gain. Still, Tanjiro never brings it up despite how much it pisses him off.

Hayami’s ad is for another type of facial cream, hence the closeup. The lilac of her eyes glitter although it’s printed on glossy paper, her fair skin smooth and perfect. It’s almost ridiculous how incredibleshe looks, hair loose and framing her features in a way that is too tempting for Tanjiro’s poor heart. Seriously, how whipped can he be? Hayami is literallysitting straight across from him, yet here he is, ogling some photo of her.

He’s such a fool.

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

Tanjiro’s attention switches from the magazine to his friend when she sighs. “It’s Mother,” she says briskly, an unpleased glint coming to her eyes. Drawing a breath, she accepts the call and places the speaker next to her ear. “Hello?”

Sipping from his drink, Tanjiro keeps himself quiet as he watches Hayami with a curious gaze. It’s more of a rare occasion than not whenever Hayami’s mother calls her; however, when it does happen, it’s mostly because she wants Hayami to do something.

The conversation between Hayami and her mother turns into a senseless buzz as Tanjiro focuses back on the magazine in his hands. It’s not that he doesn’t care, not in the slightest, but overhearing family arguments that aren’t his own make him… well, uncomfortable. He’s not alone in that stance, not by a long shot.

But then Hayami’s suddenly gripping onto his wrist, forcing his attention back on her; she’s grinning, beautiful face basically splitting itself in half at the sheer force of it. With a simple goodbye, she hangs up and sets her phone on the table. “Yes!” she exclaims, other hand grasping onto Tanjiro’s free wrist. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Hayami so happyafter ending a phone call with her mother.

“What is it?”

“Long story short, but my parents are going on a business trip for two whole weeks! Can you believe it? I finally get the house all to myself!”

A smile of his own grows on Tanjiro’s face. This istruly an occasion worth celebrating; while the relationship between her and her mother is rocky, Hayami’s father is somewhat kinder. However, since he’s the one that married into the family, his own image – much like his wife’s – is more important than his own child, so he usually takes after the mother’s side and neglects Hayami. It’s an all-around bad situation on all fronts, so it’s no wonder Hayami gets so excited when something like this happens. And, if Tanjiro’s being entirely truthful, he doesn’t blame her one bit.

“You know that this calls for, right?” Hayami continues. “Bear with me here, but I may have been planning a party for some time now. With my parents gone, I can finally do it! Think about it, Tanjiro! There’ll be food and drinks, music, games – the whole shebang! Wouldn’t it be great to kick back and relax for once?”

“I guess…?”

“Oh, come on! You have to come, Tanjiro! It’ll be more fun with you there! Please? I’ll invite all of our friends!”

Tanjiro sighs. He’s not one for parties – or for large crowds – in general. But with the hopeful glint in Hayami’s eyes and the cute pout of her lips, it’s nearly impossible to say no. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Yay!” Hayami cheers. Standing up from her chair, she leans across the table and throws her arms around Tanjiro’s shoulders. And if that wasn’t enough, she places a brisk kiss to his cheek, a joyful giggle following suit.

Oh, this poor boy’s aching heart.

Hayami goes off in an excitable tangent about all the things she has to prepare for the upcoming weekend; Tanjiro tries to listen, he really does, but he can’t ignore the pleasant sting in his cheek or the furious beating in his chest.

Good grief.

-

That following Saturday night, Tanjiro finds himself outside the gated residence of the Sumiyuri Estate. While it isn’t the first time Tanjiro’s been to Hayami’s house, the mere size of it always sends a chill down his spine. His own home could easily fit inside numerous times. A steady blast of a muted bass fills his ears, the golden cast of light streaming from the windows lighting up the front yard and the street.

Tanjiro lets himself in, trekking towards the front door; the music steadily grows louder the closer he gets, and his palms start to grow sweaty. Tanjiro’s always considered himself a people person, somehow managing to get along with anyone, but the idea of a party is a bit nerve-wracking.

The front door opens, then, revealing Hayami’s grinning face. Tanjiro offers a wave in greeting, but his hand quickly falls back by his side as he notices the outfit she’s wearing. It’s relatively simple – a burgundy two-piece dress, but the top has a window cut in the front, revealing Hayami’s way-too-giving cleavage. His mouth seals shut as he tears his gaze away, a rush of blood flooding into his face.

“Tanjiro, you finally made it!"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Tanjiro chokes on his response, muttering a nice to see you. He curses his own height; when they were a bit younger, Hayami used to tower over Tanjiro, but after his growth spurt, the tables have changed. Now, if he simply wanted to glimpse at her, he’d have to look down. The only problem is… well… breasts.

“You’re wearing the outfit I picked out!” Hayami gushes, clapping her hands together. “Wait until everyone sees you!”

Before he has the chance to respond, Hayami promptly grabs Tanjiro by the hand and drags him inside the manor. The music is much louder now that he’s inside; he recognizes it as some bass-heavy K-pop song (again, thanks to Nezuko). The two weave around the other party goers, food and red plastic cups in hand. Hayami brings him to where their group of friends sit, all clustered around a wide screen TV and in the midst of a round of Mario Kart. Although he’s glad to see them, Tanjiro’s genuinely surprised that he didn’t hear Inosuke and Zenitsu’s screaming over the music when he first arrived.

“Hey, hey, heyyyy,” Hayami’s cousin, Kagami, drawls. She practically slithers to where Tanjiro and Hayami stand, a mischievous smirk playing on her face. Her gaze snaps down to where the two’s hands are connected, her smirk further curling into a Cheshire grin. “Oh, I see. So, you two finally doing something?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Hayami immediately drops Tanjiro’s hand, much to his disappointment. She hurries a no and sends Kagami a stern look.

Kagami shrugs. “I’m just saying. Anyway, you look mightyhandsome, Tanjiro. I never pegged you as the type to show off some skin,” she says, motioning to the sliver of skin poking out from his shirt. “Oh, and won’t you look at his waistline, Hayami? The boy is snatched!”

“You are insufferable,” Hayami hisses at her cousin, but the blush on her face is way too obvious.

“Come on, let’s have some fun!” Kagami exclaims, grabbing onto both Hayami and Tanjiro and yanking them towards the TV.

And, despite not being a party person, Tanjiro finds himself actually having some fun. Granted, it’s just him playing video games with his best friends, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He was perfectly content with playing Mario Kart for the entirety of the party, but then it was Kagami’s self-proclaimed brilliant idea to switch to Just Dance. Not like that idea isn’t fine and dandy, it’s just that he was forced to take center stage with Hayami and perform a duet dance with her.

And that’s fine.

Perfectly fine.

…Fuck.

Tanjiro blames it on the strong smell of teenage hormones and perspiration. Perhaps this is his true coming of age moment? It’s not an everyday occasion where he gets to dance with someone so pretty, someone who isn’this sister. Game or not, it’s a big deal to him.

As the hours melt away further into the night, people slowly start to trickle out of Hayami’s house, wishing the others a good night before disappearing into the pitch-black night. Only a handful of people remain – mostly friends of Hayami that Tanjiro’s on good terms with, along with Inosuke and Zenitsu. Inosuke’s fast asleep on the couch, head thrown back and snoring loudly. Tanjiro doesn’t blame him for being tired, but he’s also surprised to see the rambunctious guy clocked out like that.

There’s an idle chatter amongst the small group as they pass around the last of the drinks and food left from the party and start the timely task of cleaning the place. Tanjiro is only half listening to what the others are saying, his thoughts straying to what happened earlier that night. His face warms at the memory of dancing close with Hayami, how her sweet perfume filled his lungs in the loveliest way possible. Really, he is such a fool.

“Come on, Hayami!” Kagami whines off to the side. “It’ll be fun! Everyone can let loose, if you know what I’m saying.”

“I’m all down for it!” Zenitsu chirps.

“Down for what?” Tanjiro asks.

“Seven minutes in heaven,” Zenitsu tells him with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.

Tanjiro blinks at him. “…I’m sorry?”

Zenitsu’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head. “Wait, don’t tell me- You don’t know what seven minutes in heaven is?! Oh, Tanjiro, you innocent babe! My eyes can’t handle the righteousness!”

“Zenitsu, calm down,” Hayami says, abruptly appearing by Tanjiro’s side. “You’re being too loud.”

“But Hayami! Tanjiro doesn’t know what seven minutes is!” Zenitsu exclaims.

Hayami rolls her eyes. “And there’s nothing wrong with that.” She turns to Tanjiro. “The whole point of the game is to have two people unknowingly get selected to go into a closest together and have fun. Think of it as a…. make out session, but with an unexpected twist.”

The color in Tanjiro’s face drains. “So they like…” Trailing off, he raises his hands before him and makes them mimic two people kissing. At Hayami’s nod, Tanjiro’s face turns a bright red.

Kagami pops up right next to them (where she came from, Tanjiro has no idea), a large plastic bowl in hand. “Alright, you two! Time to put a possession into the bowl!”

Tanjiro blinks owlishly at her. “A possession…?”

“It’s how you get selected,” Hayami explains. Reaching up, she tugs an earring from her ear and places it into the bowl. “Here, I’ll help you.” She gives Tanjiro the same treatment, taking an earring out from his lobe and also putting it in the bowl. Tanjiro slaps a hand to his ear, a ticklish feeling swirling around inside his chest.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping for Hayami’s item. It’s the only thought that sticks in his head while Kagami cackles to herself, going around the group and making everyone pull out an item. His heart skips a beat each time; he tries to focus on something else, he really does, but knowing that literally anyone could pull out his or Hayami’s item is too much to bear.

Especially Ginjuro, Tanjiro thinks bitterly to himself. Ginjuro and Hayami have been friends since middle school, Tanjiro knows that much, but the former has a bit of a tendency of trying to flirt and woo Hayami. They’re friends, nothing more, but the sheer idea of Ginjuro trying to worm his way into Hayami’s heart makes Tanjiro’s blood boil.

“Yo, Tanjiro!” Kagami barks. As Tanjiro breaks himself free from his thoughts, he’s met with Kagami’s hand urgently snapping its fingers in his face. “Your earring got picked,” she says simply, although the smirk on her face is nothing short of wicked.

A wave of panic washes over Tanjiro. He got picked? By who?

Before he has the chance to say anything, Kagami grabs him by the wrist and tugs him away from the rest of the group, heading towards a closet in the main hallway of Hayami’s home. “Have fun you two,” Kagami purrs. “Don’t get too wild, hehe!” Tanjiro yips as she pushes him into the closet and shuts the door behind him, plunging him into complete darkness.

Tanjiro sighs. This girl, he swears…

The sound of someone clearing their throat causes Tanjiro to jump. “Tanjiro…?” Hayami’s voice calls through the darkness – it sounds smaller than usual.

Holy shit, Tanjiro thinks. Hayami picked me?

“Hayami,” Tanjiro stammers. “I… I wasn’t expecting this…”

Hayami lets out a tiny giggle. “Neither was I.” She sounds closer than before.

Swallowing thickly, Tanjiro can easily feel her presence now, smell the tempting scent of her perfume. She’s literally right there, right in front of him, and he’s tensing up like no tomorrow. “I, uh…”

“We just have to play the game, Tanjiro,” Hayami interrupts. She takes a deep breath. “No big deal, right?”

He bites his lip. “I guess… But don’t feel like you have to!” he exclaims. “I don’t want you to get uncomfortable or anything! We can just chill out in here, right? Just until time’s up? We could just sit on the floor and – mmph!”

Tanjiro’s words are cut off by Hayami’s lips. His mind goes blank as she kisses him, her hands holding on tightly to his arms. He sucks in a ragged breath as she pulls away. “You need to shut up sometimes,” she breathes. “I want this, Tanjiro.”

“Hayami,” Tanjiro begins, but then she’s kissing him again. It’s a bit awkward at first, mostly because Tanjiro’s become stiff, but then Hayami soothingly rubs his arms and shoulders, her plush lips easing him into the kiss.

“Tanjiro,” Hayami murmurs, her fingers clenching onto the front of Tanjiro’s shirt, “kiss me.”

Maybe it’s the way her voice sounds angelically breathy, but Tanjiro’s will absolutely snaps in that very moment, all sensible thoughts being tossed out the window. He kisses her, truly kisses her, with as much might as he can summon, with all the pent-up love and desire that his heart has been holding onto for so long.

This is really happening.

“Fuck,” Hayami breathes. Her tongue slips its way into Tanjiro’s mouth, caresses his own tongue, flicks against his teeth. There’s a dull thud as she promptly pushes Tanjiro against the wall, body following suit and worming its way in between his legs.

Tanjiro’s a near panting mess, his entire being on fire. He can’t help but moan at Hayami’s taste, at her scent, at the way her breasts push up against his chest. It turns into a pleasured mewl as her fingers card through his hair, digging into the strands and giving them a yank.

He holds onto her, desperately so, hands on her waist and fingers brushing against the exposed skin her dress shows. He wants to hold moreof her, kiss her with everything he’s got, show her how much she meansto him. But oh, there her mouth goes, slipping from his lips and to his bared throat; her fingers fall from his hair and to his pants instead, wrapping around the belt loops and tugging his hips into hers. He grunts at the mere sensation, at how splendidly warm she feels through the clothing. Then she’s gripping onto his ass while she lavishes his neck, her lip gloss smearing all over the skin.

It’s too much, too intense, too extreme, but Tanjiro lovesit. He can’t help but buck his hips into Hayami, the prominent bulge in his pants grazing against her stomach. He chokes on a moan when one of her hands grips onto him, her teeth sinking into his neck.

“Tanjiro,” Hayami purrs, her voice deliciously creamy, “we should go to my bedroom.”

Tanjiro nods, albeit a bit too hastily. “Y-yeah…”

Stepping away, Hayami promptly yanks the door to the closet open. The house is eerily silent, the idle chatter of friends and low music suddenly gone. That sneaky Kagami, she probably did this, Hayami realizes.

The gulp Tanjiro gives is audible. “Is there… something wrong…?”

Hayami looks at him over her shoulder. “Come on, tiger. There’s a ride I want to catch.”

[swfanficbyjz]

SW AU - Slave Bonds - Ch. 1

So I had this idea a little while ago, what if Anakin and Ahsoka had met as kids? As I was thinking about that, I remembered that what little we know of Ahsoka’s back story is that this false Jedi came to her village and tried to kidnap her before Master Plo found her. And then I remembered that Dave Filoni’s concept art for this false Jedi looked a lot like the Zygerrians later on in the show. 

Which of course, because my brain leaps around like this all the time, got me thinking that if this false Jedi had been a slaver and had succeeded in taking Ahsoka, likely she would have ended up at a slave auction just like Anakin admitted he and his mother had been at. Because how many of those were happening at the time?

That of course gave birth to this story. If Master Plo had not found Ahsoka and taken her to the temple, and she did cross paths with Anakin as slaves, how would that have shaped the future of their relationship having had a history together?

Chapter 1:

She huddled in the corner, trembling. It hurt. Everything hurt. The tears burned her eyes. She didn’t understand. She didn’t understand anything. 

“Psst!” Her head snapped to the noise. She crawled towards it, brushing her hands to shake off the pebbles that ground against her palms. “Are you okay?” She peered into the hole but only saw a blue eye staring back. She fell back off her heels and started crying. “No, shh! It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.” His voice was soft and gentle, far kinder than any other she’d heard so far. “Here, take this.” She heard something bounce along the stone and stop by her feet. “It’s a charm, it will make you brave.”

She picked it up, turning it over. It was almost bigger than her hand. There were markings carved into an ivory square. She curled her fingers around it, held it close to her heart and closed her eyes. She did feel braver. It must work. 

She peeked back through the hole. “Thank you.” She whispered shyly.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled. “Just hold it tight when you’re scared and you’ll be okay." 

"Who are you?" 

"My name is Anakin Skywalker.” He sat back so she could see his whole face. She liked him. He had dimples. “What’s your name?”

“Ahsoka Tano." 

"That’s a pretty name.” She giggled and blushed. 

“Your name is pretty too.”

He smiled again. “Thanks! How old are you?”

“Four.” She held up her hand to show him but then wasn’t sure if he could see it.

“I’m nine.” He said proudly. “I’m good at fixing things. Someday I’m going to build my own droid.”

“What’s a droid?” She tipped her head to the side.

“They’re robots. They’re made out of metal and can move and talk and help you do things. You don’t have droids where you’re from?”

“I don’t remember.” She tightened the grip on the charm he’d given her. 

Several loud voices stopped outside her cell. “Get up, girlie!” A man yelled. She cowered, holding the stone in her hand. “I said, get up!” He hit his gun against the metal and it echoed in the room so loudly, she brought her arms up to try and block the sound. Her head pounded from the pain. 

“She’s just a kid!” Anakin shouted from the other side of the wall. “You’re scaring her!”

The man behind the voice pounded against his cell. “Shut up, slave! Mind your own business or you’ll lose your tongue!”

The door to hers slammed open and she squeezed her eyes shut as a large sweaty hand closed around her right arm, jerking her to her feet. She barely caught sight of Anakin as she was dragged past his cage. He was making a square shape with his fingers and she grabbed for the charm he’d given her, unsure when she’d dropped it or how it ended up back in her hands.

She held it tight as a painful metal collar was snapped around her neck, pinching her lekku. She’d cried out in pain only to be hit in response. She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. She was chained to a platform that started rising into an arena. 

She shook her head, blinking against the bright lights. Her head going deaf against the noise. There was so much commotion, so much color. Occasional streaks of pain. She closed her eyes holding the charm, wishing to be brave. Just hold it tight when you’re scared, you’ll be okay. She repeated his words over and over again. Her hands were going numb from how tightly she held it. 

When she opened her eyes, she was in another cage on a ship. She could feel it shudder as it moved. She didn’t know where she was now or how she got here. But at least she still had the charm. It had worked. She didn’t know how, but she wasn’t so scared anymore. She’d be okay, just like the boy had said. 

—

She stared at the sand as she slowly shuffled along. She’d get in trouble for taking so long, but she wasn’t in a hurry. Whenever she didn’t have to be there, was the only time she didn’t hurt. She’d rather get one big beating than lots of little ones. She tugged at the sleeves of her shirt absentmindedly, not that anyone around here cared about the bruises she was trying to hide. 

“Ahsoka!” She barely had a chance to react to her name before someone pulled her into their arms. Her instinct was to recoil at the touch, but this one didn’t hurt. “You’re okay!” Was she okay? That’s not what it felt like. Who cared about her anyways?

She blinked up towards the two suns and his face finally swam into view. Blonde hair, blue eyes… dimples! “Anakin?” Now she was smiling too. She reached into her shirt and pulled out the charm she’d fashioned into a necklace. He took it in his fingers, turning it over gently. Then he leaned over to look her in the eye.

“Who is your master?” he whispered.

“Sebulba.” She looked down at her feet and he put his hands on her shoulders.

“Is he kind?” She shook her head, tears falling in the sand below. Then she rolled up her sleeve and he ran his fingers softly along the bruises.

“Stupid Dug!” he spat and she looked up at him, biting her lip. “I work over there.” He pointed to the shop a few yards away. “Come find me when you can.”

She glanced across the way and saw a strange blue creature float out of the shop and start yelling.

“I have to go. Keep holding onto the charm.” He smiled sadly at her and started running in that direction. She squeezed the necklace in her hand and watched him go. Someone did care. But she wished she could follow him. She turned back towards Sebulba’s place and hurried along. If she got to see Anakin again soon, she could get through whatever punishment awaited her.

—

She peeked around the corner hoping what she’d heard was true. Sebulba snored heavily as he laid back in his chair. She tiptoed past the doorway as quietly as she could and the moment she was out the front door, ran as fast as her little legs would carry her.

She was breathless by the time she’d made it to the shop Anakin had pointed out days before. But she didn’t want to waste any second she could be with him. She slipped inside, trying not to draw the attention of the shopkeeper. Her friend was working on the far side of the room, she could just barely make out his movements through shelves of interesting objects. The blue creature turned and she fell to her knees, crawling along the dusty floor trying to hide from his view.

Anakin turned around when she was about halfway through, his eyes widened. “Master,” he said. “I think I see a customer approaching.”

“Good good.” The shopkeeper replied and fluttered towards the doorway. The moment he was gone, she was on her feet, running into his arms.

“I was starting to think you’d forgotten.” He whispered, holding her tightly.

“He doesn’t leave me alone much.” She clung to him. He was the only nice thing in this place.

“Well at least you’re here now.” He pointed behind a crate near him as the shopkeeper came back in grumbling.

“You, boy! Clean up this shop, I’m going to go get a drink.”

“Yes, master.” He bowed obediently.

“What is he?” she asked after he left.

“Oh that’s Watto. He’s a Toydarian. His bark is worse than his bite.”

“He bites?” she shivered uncontrollably.

“No, it’s just an expression. It means he sounds mean, but he doesn’t actually do what he says he will.”

She ran her hands along the metal junk that littered the shelf in front of her. Everything here was strange. “Sebulba always does what he says he will. And he sounds plenty mean too.” She picked up a round metal object and rolled it in her hands.

“Well at least we’re both on Tatooine.” He said trying to sound positive.

“What is Tatooine?” she poked a button on the ball and it leapt to life, floating up into the air and around the shop.

“That’s the name of this stupid planet.” He dove after it, catching it but running into a shelf, knocking stuff off. A small rectangular thing on wheels started moving across the floor. “Grab that, would you?”

She threw her weight at it, just barely getting a grip on it. “Sorry!” she said trying to figure out how to shut it off.

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled, shutting off the metal ball and putting it back on the shelf. Then he started laughing as the thing under her kept moving and was strong enough to pull her along with it.

“What is this thing?” she cried as it dragged her around the room.

“It’s a mouse droid.” He ran forward and stepped his foot down on top of it so it couldn’t move anymore.

“Droid? Like the kind you want to build?”

“There’s lots of different types of droids.” He picked it up and shut it off, setting it back on the shelf too and then he helped her to her feet. She brushed herself off, hoping that Sebulba didn’t care how dirty she was. “Here, let me show you.” She took his hand and he guided her to the back of the shop. “This is Threepio. He’s a protocol droid. Watto is letting me put it together using parts that I find. I’m building him to help my mom.”

She looked over what he pointed at. It was just a jumble of parts and wires as far as she could tell. “What is a protocol droid?”

“They can speak lots of different languages and they’re human-like. They’re service droids, so they’ll do anything you ask them too; cleanup, make food. You name it.”

“If droids can do that, why are there slaves?”

“That’s a good question.” He murmured. “Where are you from, anyways?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ve never seen a Togruta before, but I’ve heard of them.”

“What’s a Togruta?”

“Well that’s what you are, silly!” he laughed, tickling her.

“I am me!” she said giggling, pushing him away.

“You’re a snippy little one, aren’t you?”

“What does that mean?” she looked up at him curiously.

“It means you have a lot of attitude.” He crossed his arms and looked her over. “I think I’m going to call you Snips.”

“But my name is Ahsoka.”

“It’s a nickname. Like a secret, just between us.” He patted her on the shoulder.

“Snips.” She repeated. “Okay. What can I call you?”

“Most people call me Ani.”

“But that wouldn’t be our secret.”

“True.” He laughed.

“Can I help you clean up?” she asked, looking around. She didn’t want him to get in trouble for the mess she made. He was so nice.

“It’s okay, I can do it. Watto won’t be back for awhile.” He tried to reassure her. “Let’s play a game. You like games?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, well you’ll like this one.” He went on to explain the rules, patiently teaching her and answering all her questions. For awhile, she forgot about the bruises and beatings, laughing as they chased each other around. She’d squeal in delight, falling apart into giggles whenever he’d catch her. He ran faster than her, easily. He had longer legs. But every once in awhile he’d slow down or pretend to be tired and let her catch him.

“Ani!” a woman exclaimed as she entered the shop and they were both on their feet looking ashamed. “What are you doing?”

“We were just playing, mom!” he said, hurrying to take the package she was carrying from her. “This is my friend, Ahsoka.”

She shifted nervously, looking up at the woman in fear. Was she as nice as Anakin? She seemed stern, but then her face softened into a smile and she relaxed. “Hello there, little one.” She crouched down.

“Hi,” she whispered shyly. The woman’s hands rested on her shoulder as she looked her over. Then her hand brushed the heavy collar around her neck and she smiled sadly.

“You’d better get back to your master, before he misses you.” She said gently. Ahsoka’s eyes widened. She’d been having so much fun with Anakin, she’d completely forgotten about Sebulba.

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