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#they watch all the major sports events together across all sports and he makes a whole day of it.
kacievvbbbb · 1 month
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Watching Dressrosa and seeing Zoro watch Luffy's colosseum battle on the screen I was suddenly hit by the fact that in a Modern AU he'd probably be the most obnoxious kind of soccer fan.
You know the one that probably picks a new favorite team every match and is only a soccer fan when they are actively watching soccer. I can honestly just imagine him screaming at the screen and being all dramatic at the team talking about honor and shit. No actual practical knowledge of soccer though.
I just think he and Mihawk would just be the kind of people that like sport in a Modern AU they are athletes themselves but they also just like competition and adrenaline and so sports. Except Mihawk atleast attempts to possess a basic knowledge of the rules and plays of sports he watches while Zoro will watch a sport he's never heard of in his life, chooses a random dude that's "got guts" and root for them so wholeheartedly you'd think he's supported them all his life.
All this to say that goth family watches the World Cup as part of "family bonding time" and
-Mihawk is rooting for 3 separate countries, the 2 that his data says are statically most probably going to win and his home country cause he has some "patriotic pride". He watches intensely but never actually reacts to anything.
-Zoro is rooting for whichever team is playing against whatever team Mihawk is repping at the moment. He has no stakes in this longterm whatsoever exceot that he gets his fill of trolling Mihawk, sports adrenaline and on the rare occasion his team wins he gets to be a smug asshole to the man who raised him 😌. He screams at the T.V so much you'd think he had money on the line.
-Perona liked the idea of styling cute matching jerseys so much so that she forgot how much she hates watching sport. She is very bored and unhappy and hopes that somehow both of them lose. She judges the outfits (the jerseys) of different countries and their coaches on a scale that only she really understands but all must suffer through.
-Shanks is there because this is the only time Mihawk will hold his hand even though he is squeezing so hard his bones might be ground to dust. (the only indicator that Mihaw is affected at all by what is happening). He's bar hopper he's used to seeing random sports he doesn't understand played on green fields running in the background of his mild buzz to drunken fool binge. He's just glad to be included.
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pupkashi · 1 year
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college!bf satoru who would walk with you to all your classes, even when his are across campus, shrugging and cockily telling you he didn’t even need lecture to pass (he crams the night before exams and somehow always passes with flying colors)
who would try to get classes in the same section with you if you had similar majors, doing everything humanly possible to take core courses together (public speaking was terrible with him, and political science was even worse)
who memorizes your schedule and plans out times for you two to meet up and have study or lunch dates between classes, because he can’t stand being apart from you for a full day
college!bf satoru who buys the two of you matching crewnecks with the university name across the chest, he always makes sure to spray his cologne on yours
college!bf satoru who opts for nights in cuddling and watching movies with you instead of going to parties and clubs like some of his classmates do
who goes to every sports game with you, every event and formal for any orgs you’re in, always managing to make you swoon when he cleans up rather than his usual crewnecks and t shirts
college!bf satoru who stays up with you while you study and gives you snacks and water to keep you going, encouraging you to take naps and get enough rest, driving you to campus when he can just so you don’t have to take the bus
college!bf satoru who buys all your textbooks and scantrons for you so you don’t have to spend anything on it, tells you to buy something you want instead
college!bf satoru who is always supportive, holding you when you’re crying from stress, cheering when you pass your exams, kissing you after a long day, helping you with homework when he can
college!bf satoru who is the loudest and proudest when you cross the stage, diploma in hand, knowing how hard you worked and how much you truly deserve it
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a/n: just a silly little thought i had i hope u guys enjoy :3 I’ll get something better up soon hopefully ! <3
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi
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be4chywritez · 3 months
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Nico Hishier dating Mercedes F1 driver. The reader just won her first championship title and Nico is supportive towards reader.
omg i literally love f1 x nhl sm🙃
Winner takes it all | nico hischier
nico hischier x driver!reader
You win your first world championship and Nico is there to support you.
my masterlist!
requests are open!
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Nico paced around the Mercedes garage, his heart pounding in rhythm with the revving engines. His eyes were fixed on the screen, where the sleek black Mercedes navigated the twists and turns of the circuit with caution. Through the headphones, he heard your voice, loud and stressed.
"How's the gap?" Your frustration was palpable, and Nico's nerves only made it worse as he waited for a reply from your engineer.
"Keep pushing, going full throttle this lap, Verstappen is closing in," came the calm response.
Nico's breath caught in his throat as he watched the screen, his mind racing with worry. He hadn't felt this nervous since the day he met you.
It was a charity event hosted by a major sports foundation, bringing together athletes from various disciplines to raise funds for children's hospitals. Nico, representing the NHL, and you, a rising star in Formula 1, were both invited to participate in a panel discussion about the importance of sports in youth development.
Nico had heard about you before—your rapid ascent in the male-dominated world of F1 was making waves. He was intrigued to meet you in person.
As you smoothed out your dress, a mic tech handed you a mic. You thanked him and looked up, catching Nico's gaze. You offered him a smile, and his heart skipped a beat as you walked towards him.
"Hi, very nice to meet you. I'm Y/n," you said, your voice soft and inviting.
"Hello, I'm Nico. Nice to meet you too," he replied, trying to keep his composure despite the flutter in his chest.
Before you could say anything else, you were both ushered onto the panel.
The panel went amazingly well. You and Nico complemented each other perfectly.
"That was nice," you said as you walked to your cars. "We should hang out without, y'know, the panel."
Nico nodded, his heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the Monster he had just drank. "I'd like that. Maybe you should come to a hockey game?"
"I'd love that," you replied with a smile. "And maybe you can come to a Grand Prix?"
"Deal," he said, grinning. "It's a date."
The rest was history; you and Nico started dating a few months later. You came out to his games, and he attended your races, always finding time for each other.
Now, Nico stood there, watching your car drive its last lap, his lip between his teeth.
The camera panned to Nico. "There's Nico Hischier, Y/n's partner, looking quite stressed." Nico cupped his mouth with his hands, rubbing his face. "C'mon, baby, bring it home, c'mon," he whispered.
Sweat clouded your vision. One lap to go, and it was decided. You and Max had been fighting for this, and the points were extremely close. All you heard was your heart beating in your ears. You looked at your mirrors, Verstappen close behind you. You kept pushing. You reached the last turn; this was it. Verstappen tried to overtake, and for a second, you thought he did. You let out a strangled grunt, pushing harder. You got ahead by an inch, and then, all of a sudden, it went quiet.
You felt your car soar through the finish line, and you blinked, tears immediately fogging your vision. You could feel the rumble of the stands from cheering.
As the deafening roar of the engines faded into silence, Nico's heart seemed to stop along with it. The tension in the air was palpable, every eye in the garage fixated on the screens, waiting for the final verdict.
The seconds stretched on endlessly, each one feeling like an eternity, until finally, the results flashed across the screen. Y/n had done it. She had crossed the finish line first, securing the championship title by the narrowest of margins.
A collective cheer erupted in the garage, the sound of excitement filling the air as the team members embraced each other in celebration. Nico's heart swelled with pride and relief, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Congratulations, mate!" a mechanic exclaimed, clapping Nico on the back.
Nico turned to see Toto Wolff, the team principal, approaching with a wide grin on his face. "You must be over the moon, Nico. Y/n drove brilliantly out there."
He nods, and Toto brings him into a hug, patting his back. "She did it."
Your engineer's voice breaks your haze, "Congrats, kid, you are the world champion," his voice breaks, "I'm so proud of you," he says.
Toto's voice is now in your ear, "Y/n, amazing drive, you did it, darling. I'm so proud of you. This is only the beginning; you have so much potential." Tears flow harder if possible.
"Toto, team, thank you so much. We did it, guys. Love you guys. Nico, if you can hear me, we did." your voice breaks.
Toto calls over Nico to the wall, he places his headset over Nico, "We did it, my love," you can hear Nico say into the mic, you let out a cry and laugh, "Thank you, Neeks."
Your team rushes over to the barricade, all of them waiting for you.
You park the car in the number one spot, Max in second, and Checo in third.
You flip your visor and get out of your car. Max approaches you, giving you a supportive pat on your back. Checo pulls you into an embrace, and you pat his back, giving him a nice nod. Then, you run towards the barricade and throw yourself into your team, who all cheer for you.
Your mechanics and engineers all pat your helmet, showing you love.
You do your post-win interview and cool down in the room, but those moments felt like a blur. You were called for the podium ceremony, you stand on the top looking down, and you spot him immediately, his eyes are rimmed red probably from crying, he spots you giving you a wide smile, and you wink at him.
your anthem plays, tears flow freely, then afterward the champagne pops, and you, Checo, and Max spray each other, happily running around the podium.
After the festivities you make your way back to the garage, Lewis gets to you first giving you a hug, "congrats kid, you did it,” you smile giving him a pat, then mechanics and engineers, Toto brings you in for another hug, “great race out there,” he pats your arm.
Then Nico charges at you, hugging you tightly, you feel him breathe deeply, “we did my love, we did it,” you mumble into his shoulder
Nico laughed, hugging you tightly. “You did it, Y/N. You were amazing out there. I’m so proud of you.”
You pulled back, your eyes sparkling with joy. “I couldn’t have done it without your support. You’ve been my rock through all of this.”
Nico brushed a strand of hair from your face, his smile softening. “You deserve all of this and more. You’ve worked so hard, and now the whole world knows just how incredible you are.”
You leaned into his touch, your eyes closing for a moment. “I couldn’t ask for a better partner.”
He kissed your forehead gently. “And I couldn’t ask for a better champion to support. Now, let’s go celebrate. This is your moment, and I want to make sure it’s one you’ll never forget.”
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crissiebaby · 4 months
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Million Diaper Baby: Chapter 1
DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, humiliation, domination, sissification, chastity, masturbation/diaper sex, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!
Commissioned By: Gun1242
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In 2025, an up-and-coming Middleweight boxer named Blake “The Bullet” Rodgers stepped into the ring for his chance at a title belt. The event that occurred three rounds into his boxing match would forever change the sport as The Bullet delivered a nasty blow to his opponent’s lower gut, triggering a messy accident in the heart of Madison Square Garden. With his rival unable to continue, the fight concluded in an unprecedented TKO victory for The Bullet, and his legendary punch from that day became known as The Hollow Point.
Many of Blake’s fellow boxers would soon strive to emulate his signature move to achieve quick TKOs, and the sport of boxing became inundated with muddy undies before the year was out. The prospect of banning hits to the lower midsection was a bridge too far for the vast majority of athletes and spectators, leaving the International Boxing Federation to make the only plausible decision they could. Henceforth, diapers became a uniform requirement for boxers at all levels…
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*DING! DING!*
Thumping his gloves together fiercely, it was safe to say Matthew Armstrong was having an off day. Sweat dripped from the ends of his spiky hair as he danced his way toward the center of the ring for the eighth round of his sparring match. His opponent was someone he had bested on numerous occasions, emphasizing to anyone watching that he was not performing at 100 percent mentally. Adding to his frustration, the feisty Welterweight knew the reason for his poor performance was entirely petty. This pushed him to become more reckless as he proceeded to take his anger out on his hapless competitor with a series of wild punches.
“It’s here!”
Suddenly, a female voice echoed from across the gym, distracting Matthew at the worst possible moment. His opponent’s glove made contact with the side of his jaw, resulting in an unintentional sucker punch that put the frazzled fighter on his obnoxiously crinkly ass. It wasn’t even a particularly hard hit, making the fact that it unbalanced him even more aggravating. Pushing himself off the canvas floor, he didn’t even wait for the bell to ring as he exited the ring in a huff.
“G-Good match,” called out Matthew’s opponent, his voice brimming with clumsy anxiety.
Matthew paid no mind to his sparring partner as he beelined to the other side of the boxing gym without a word of comradery. Instead, his focus was locked on a group of fellow boxers who were standing in a semi-circle around a large cardboard box. Dawning a sour expression, he folded his arms over his chest defensively and joined the crowd of onlookers.
“Eeee! I’m so excited! It feels like Christmas!” said the girl tearing into the well-sealed box with a pair of safety scissors. Dreaming of this moment since she was old enough to walk, Lightweight brawler, Amy Stone, tore open the parcel and proudly unveiled her big sponsor to her fellow competitors, “Heh! I think I’m gonna be covered on boxing diapers for the foreseeable future.” Her small gathering clapped and chuckled lightheartedly as she held up a package of plain white diapers with a giant CrissBaby Diaper Company logo boldly located on the rear of the padding. Years of intensive training and dedication had finally been worth it, and now, she was ready to leave her mark on the sport. She hugged the diaper pack to her chest, fighting back tears of joy.
*Scoff!*
Amy’s smile briefly faltered as Matthew’s breathy dejection snagged her ear. Her gaze narrowed playfully as she turned to see him sulking as he sauntered away from the group.
“Stupid CrissBaby,” muttered Matthew, failing to mask his seething jealousy. There was little doubt pertaining to who the best boxer in the gym unequivocally was. At only 26, his professional record stood at an awe-inspiring 19-0-2, and he’d bested damn near every local guy in his weight class multiple times over. And yet, despite his obvious prowess, he had yet to accrue any sponsorships to help take him to the next level, leaving him to scrounge for any cheap fight he could get his gloves on. He didn’t want to be bitter, especially toward Amy of all people, but he couldn’t deny that he was feeling raw about the whole situation.
*POW!*
Receiving a light punch to the shoulder from behind, Matthew narrowly avoided a trip to the ground as he stumbled forward. “Who the fu-” he shouted, ready to lay the smack down on whoever had the gall to hit him when his back was turned. His rage faltered as he turned around to see Amy smirking at him. He exhaled forcefully through his nose like a bull attempting to mind its manners in a china shop, “Oh…it’s just you.”
“Hehe! You looked so mad, bro. I must’ve really pissed you off for you to go straight to your corkscrew,” teased Amy, who was able to tell what punch Matthew was going throw based on his stance alone. After two decades of fighting alongside each other, she could read Matthew like a book and knew precisely how to poke at his most hair-triggered buttons. Unfortunately, while Matthew had always been highly competitive, envy was one of his rarer emotions, leading to a gross miscalculation as she carried on with her heedless taunts, “Oh, c’mon, Matti. Lighten up, will ya! Just because we have to wear diapers doesn’t mean you gotta act like a party pooper.” She reached forward to place a hand on Matthew’s shoulder, only for him to brush her away.
A small line of pink formed along the bridge of Matthew’s nose. “I told you never to call me that here,” he said in a hushed volume, referring to Amy’s incessant need to feminize his name at all times. He allowed her to get away with it when they were alone but that was only because of the massive crush he had on her. His eyes shifted to the handful of onlookers who had previously been present for Amy’s unboxing, praying that none of them overheard his embarrassing nickname, “And lay off the diaper jokes, will ya? Not all of us are so privileged to have CrissBaby pay for ours.”
Matthew’s pointed comment struck a nerve within Amy, who wasn’t looking to have her success ridiculed over nothing more than a harmless goof in her eyes. “Oh, is that what this is about? I thought you were slinking away cuz you just got put on your ass by a rookie. Not sure that’s the kind of performance CrissBaby would be interested in,” she shot back vengefully, displaying her own brand of brash egoism. Several more fighters bunched in around the bickering besties, amused by the verbal onslaught that was rapidly ramping up.
“19 wins and zero losses, bitch. Records speak for themselves. Tell me, what was yours again? 13-3? 4? You’ll have to forgive me for forgetting since I only have to keep track of one number,” said Matthew, earning a chorus of “oohs” from the male spectators.
“Okay, asshole, for the record, it’s 14 and 2,” clapped back Amy, who wasn’t about to let her win-loss count be downplayed, “And don’t act like your record isn’t inflated with amateurs and journeymen. I take my losses on the chin cuz those were hard fucking fights. I bet your pansy ass is gonna ball like a baby the day you get laid out.”
With no regard for his short-tempered retort from moments prior, Matthew was high on the belief that he had Amy right where he wanted her if she was already cussing. He rolled his eyes, knowing of how much that imprudent gesture ground her gears. “Too bad you’re never gonna find out. Sorry, Ames, but I don’t plan on losing any time soon,” he said, utilizing the three inches of height he had over Amy to look down on her.
“Wanna put those words to the test?” asked Amy, her tone deadly serious as she stepped forward and got up in Matthew’s face. In the back of her mind, she knew this was possibly one of the dumbest things she could do. Even if she were to completely erase the annoying gender divide, she easily weighed 20 pounds less than Matthew, giving him a significant upper hand from a sheer power standpoint. That being said, Matthew had talked far too much shit to not put his money where his mouth is. If anyone was going to knock him down a peg, it was going to be her.
Caught off guard by Amy’s impromptu challenge, Matthew found himself atop a very awkward hot seat. He had sparred with Amy countless times when they were growing up but he hadn’t faced off against his childhood friend since middle school. Cornered by his arrogance, he knew this was a lose-lose situation. “Sorry, I don’t fight girls,” he replied, his cheering section quickly turning on him as the “oohs” swapped to “awws” within seconds of his answer, “Shut the fuck up! I don’t see you pussies going toe-to-toe with any of the girls here.”
“Yeah, that’s because they’re smart enough not to run their mouths around me. Maybe take a page from their book if you’re gonna chicken out,” heckled Amy, twisting the knife for presumably the final time given Matthew’s cowardly rebuttal.
However, Amy never could’ve predicted the kind of fire her needling statement would spark behind Matthew’s eyes. Balling his fists, his knuckles crackled like a fuse being ignited. He still had no intention of fighting her but he wasn’t about to announce that to the whole gym after such blatant indignation. Letting his male fragility take the wheel, he knew exactly what to say to get Amy to balk. “Fine but if I win, you have to go on a date with me,” he said, a wicked grin forming on his mug, “And you have to dress up nice, too. No sweatpants allowed.” The “oohs” returned in his favor.
Amy’s smug visage shattered nigh instantaneously as Matthew’s shocking stipulation sank in. She wished she could say this was a first but Matthew had been coming onto her since the two of them were old enough to tell the difference between guys and girls. Despite being keenly aware of Matthew’s gushy feelings, she never reciprocated. She’d been around enough macho airheads to know that type of guy wasn’t her type. And yet, Matthew still harbored a deep affection for her, forcing her to constantly find new ways to let him down easily for the sanctity of their friendship. This was clearly a face-saving move to get her to back down, and she had to admit it was surprisingly effective. Had it been any other muscle-clad douchebag pulling a stunt like this, she would’ve decked him right then and there, but this was Matthew she was dealing with. If he wanted to up the ante to this extent, she was determined to make him regret it, “Fine, but if I win, you have to do whatever I say for an entire week. No ifs, ands, or buts. No backing out.” She extended her hand toward Matthew whilst maintaining a withering glare and refusing to so much as blink. “So, Matti, do we have a deal?”
Glancing at the now gym-wide audience encircling Amy and him, Matt knew any chance of this argument ending civilly was long gone. Their brawl seemed almost inevitable at this point. His fingers curled around Amy’s hand viciously, showcasing his superior grip strength. “You’re on,” he said starkly, oblivious to the blushy fate that lay ahead of him.
Matching the intensity of her opponent’s grip, Amy squared up with Matthew. Permitting her devious mind to wander as she looked him up and down, she could already feel the horns growing out of her head. She would certainly make him pay in more ways than one if she wound up stuck on a crappy date with him. But should she happen to pull off an upset, he was going to be in for a world of humiliation unlike anything he’s ever experienced.
TO BE CONTINUED…
NEXT »
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Edited by AllySmolShork
Special Thanks to Our CrissBaby Diaper Company Investors: BlushyBen DD JFN Nike PrincessKittenLizzi SissyDina Strawberry Sweetsamantharebecca & One Anonymous Investor
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Disability Pride Month: Fiction Recommendations
Greek Lessons by Han Kang
In a classroom in Seoul, a young woman watches her Greek language teacher at the blackboard. She tries to speak but has lost her voice. Her teacher finds himself drawn to the silent woman, for day by day he is losing his sight.
Soon the two discover a deeper pain binds them together. For her, in the space of just a few months, she has lost both her mother and the custody battle for her nine-year-old son. For him, it's the pain of growing up between Korea and Germany, being torn between two cultures and languages, and the fear of losing his independence.
Greek Lessons tells the story of two ordinary people brought together at a moment of private anguish—the fading light of a man losing his vision meeting the silence of a woman who has lost her language. Yet these are the very things that draw them to each other. Slowly the two discover a profound sense of unity—their voices intersecting with startling beauty, as they move from darkness to light, from silence to breath and expression.
The Color of Family by Jerry McGill
Who wants to believe their family could ever be broken?
Devon and James Payne are brothers and rivals since childhood. But they share an affinity for sports that brings glory to their Connecticut town and promise for the future. Then they're in a car accident. Devon is paralyzed for life, while James goes on to live the dream.
For the Paynes, the tremulous repercussions of that evening never settled. Over the course of a decade, Devon decides to visit his seven siblings now scattered across the globe. Each has moved on, yet each struggles to cope with the traumatic event that irrevocably connects them. Devon confronts not only his own demons and family secrets but also the guilt and heartbreaking betrayals that followed in the wake of the tragedy. He also discovers the power of forgiveness--and that coming to terms with the past is the only way to live free in the present.
Just By Looking at Him by Ryan O’Connell
Elliott appears to be living the dream as a successful TV writer with a doting boyfriend. But behind his Instagram filter of a life, he’s grappling with an intensifying alcohol addiction, he can’t seem to stop cheating on his boyfriend with various sex workers, and his cerebral palsy is making him feel like gay Shrek.
After falling down a rabbit hole of sex, drinking, and Hollywood backstabbing, Elliott decides to limp his way towards redemption. But facing your demons is easier said than done.
The Girl He Used to Know by Tracey Garvis Graves
Annika Rose is an English major at the University of Illinois. Anxious in social situations where she finds most people's behavior confusing, she'd rather be surrounded by the order and discipline of books or the quiet solitude of playing chess.
Jonathan Hoffman joined the chess club and lost his first game—and his heart—to the shy and awkward, yet brilliant and beautiful Annika. He admires her ability to be true to herself, quirks and all, and accepts the challenges involved in pursuing a relationship with her. Jonathan and Annika bring out the best in each other, finding the confidence and courage within themselves to plan a future together. What follows is a tumultuous yet tender love affair that withstands everything except the unforeseen tragedy that forces them apart, shattering their connection and leaving them to navigate their lives alone.
Now, a decade later, fate reunites Annika and Jonathan in Chicago. She's living the life she wanted as a librarian. He's a Wall Street whiz, recovering from a divorce and seeking a fresh start. The attraction and strong feelings they once shared are instantly rekindled, but until they confront the fears and anxieties that drove them apart, their second chance will end before it truly begins.
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thinktosee · 7 months
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The Swift Era
The greatest show on earth is upon us. Once upon a time, Buffalo Bill Cody (1846-1917), an American Wild West showman, put together a rag-tag troupe of performers and took them on the road, across the American and European continents. His was possibly the beginning of the era of entertainment as a transformative and global phenomenon. Later on, Hollywood was to adopt and also adapt Cody’s idea into film, which stupendously expanded audio- visual entertainment across the planet. 
A couple of weeks ago, we were privileged to watch one of professional sports most brutal and yet, intriguing annual events – the American National Football League’s championship game in Las Vegas, pitting the San Francisco 49ers vs the Kansas City Chiefs. I was able to watch it “live” in Singapore only because it was the Lunar New Year Holiday and that being the case, the major television network allowed a one-time free access to all cable programmes, including sports. The KC Chiefs took the show, I mean, the championship through a delayed comeback, principally on the brains and hand of their stair quarterback, Patrick Mahomes. But hang on. While the media focus on this kid-wonder was understandably and deservedly overwhelming, there were a couple of folks too who were in the spotlight during the match – in attendance was the celebrity entertainer, singer and songwriter, Taylor Swift. She was adoringly cheering her boyfriend on the field, whose name currently escapes me (just kidding). But really, that was what it looked like. Travis Kelce of the Chiefs is no doubt a superb footballer, or perhaps as Prez Putin alluded to, handballer. But he is no match for his GF Swift in the popularity stakes, no matter what ex-Prez Trump said. Listen, music is the bread of life. And Taylor Swift seems to have it cornered. Sorry Beyonce.
I have not witnessed a music sensation as Taylor Swift, especially among the global masses, perhaps since the big bangs Beatles in the 1960s.. This is not to say that I am a fan. Admittedly, I cannot with any bit of honesty say that I am familiar with Swift’s music. My daughter, Sara and her BFF, Marie however are.  The duo is presently attending Swift’s concert in Sydney, with self-made bangles and all. I am sure they will be electrifyingly entertained by the greatest show-woman on earth. 
After Australia, Taylor will swiftly glide over to Singapore for a six-night exclusive engagement. Something which was grudgingly conceded by the Thai PM. That’s how amazingly popular this musical icon is. As news reports about Swift and her goings-on continue to overwhelm our digital space, one thing is for certain – millions of youth across the universe are crying out for more, more, more. Yes, Billy. This is the new Idol. And what do I like about this? Why, entertainment makes us happy, doesn’t it? The fact that Ms Swift has helped to light-up millions of lives is an amazing thing altogether. 
Sports and entertainment, including music have always been fused, as my friend, Rick told me. Except that now Swift and Kelce have made it into a billion people or dollar business. Whatever the case may be, I admire Swift for her unique talent, stamina and grace. She is one of a kind. And she’s giving us a thrill of a lifetime. 
My best wishes to Swift and Kelce. 
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de fragee prutia | part 3.
Summary: Welcome to the world of Descendants but with a slight twist. (Y/N) is the daughter of Prince Naveen and Princess Tiana. Being girlfriend to Ben and a royal herself, (Y/N) encourages Ben to bring over some kids from the Isle. Will she be putting everything she loves to the test with this idea? Will she and Ben survive or will she meet someone else along the way?
Pairing: Ben x reader
Word Count: 6.9k
Warnings: none
Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)
(Y/N POV)
You had spent the better part of the week ignoring Mal and any time you had to talk to her your words were laced with venom. It wasn’t easy any time you both showed up to your lockers at the same time, like today. Mal gave you a brief smile but knew better than to try and say anything. You both grabbed your stuff silently. You looked over at Mal.
What you wanted to do was yell and scream. You got where she was coming from but that didn’t make it right, and to not say anything for so long. It made you pissed. But you acting out could potentially make Mal turn back towards evil and that wasn’t what anyone needed. She should consider herself lucky she’s a VK and you cared more about making them better. If it was an AK you would’ve held a grudge for at least four months. You angrily kicked the locker before taking a breath and turning to Mal.
“As head of the VKA program, I’m marking these past events as a small slip up. Slight regression, to be expected nothing major. Five hours of extra goodness classes with Jane as a detention. But as a girlfriend I’m obligated to call this strike one, Mal. Let’s not make this one a habit. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Mal went to shake your hand but you pulled her into a hug instead. You had to go in all the way otherwise you’d let your anger take over again.
“Wait, you said girlfriend. So you and Ben.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I just clearly heard…”
“I’m scheduling your first hour with Jane right now if you don’t shut up.”
You were still mad at Ben. A love potion wasn’t supposed to magically erase all the emotions you had to go through and unlike Mal, you could afford to stay mad at him.
~~~~~~
(Third Person POV)
(Y/N), Ben, and Mal shared math together. When Ben made a move to sit next to (Y/N), she got up and moved to sit by Mal. He had been trying multiple times to be next to (Y/N) in any class they shared and it was honestly, slowly breaking her down.
Ben didn’t push it. He let (Y/N) and Mal switch places and didn’t say anything. Mal purposely sat back in her seat so Ben and (Y/N) were at least aware of each other. Ben smiled to himself every time he caught (Y/N) looking at him out of the corner of her eye.
“Um, Mal, do you have the answer to number eight?” (Y/N) asked. They were correcting tests in class.
“Nope, sorry. Math’s not really my…thing.”
“Ici. J’ai la bonne réponse pour ça.” Ben slid over his test. (Here, I have the right answer for that one)
“Oh…merci,” (Y/N) said quietly as she tentatively grabbed the test.
She didn’t talk to Ben or Mal the rest of class, just silently did her corrections. Any time she needed a correction she couldn’t solve, she would silently reach across the table for Ben’s paper. The bell rang dismissing everyone.
“Thank you, Mr. Clemmons.” The class said in unison as they left.
The next day (Y/N) walked quickly to her locker after class before Ben could try and stop her. She was there to drop off her math binder and pick up her poms. Yearbook pictures for some of the sports teams were that day right before lunch and Tourney Cheerleading was one of them.
Ben hid around the corner from his locker. He could see (Y/N) from where he was. He watched as she opened her locker and stared blankly at a space in there. (Y/N) stared at the ring in her locker. She had seen Ben wearing the birthday ring she got him lately but didn’t expect his beast ring to be sitting in front of her.
(Y/N) looked past the ring to throw her binder in and grab her poms. She slammed her locker shut before rolling her eyes and reopening it. Ben smiled as he watched her slip the ring on her pointer finger and leave for pictures. She accepted the ring. Now he could carry forward with his apology. She wanted more than words and that’s what he would give her.
(Y/N POV)
You never ate a heavy breakfast before a game on game day because it made getting into the tight cheer uniform not easy. Why you didn’t apply the same principle for picture day was beyond you. You stood in line with the other girls waiting for pictures, tugging at your uniform.
“(Y/N)? We said yellow sparkly bows with Auradon written in blue.” Jane said as she assessed everyone’s uniforms. You were wearing the plain white bows.
“Crap. I’ll go run to my room and grab it real quick. I’ll be back in time, promise!”
You dropped your poms and started running towards the dormitories. You were mentally trying to picture where the bow could be in your room. You were out of breath as you put the key in, to unlock the door. The gym wasn’t exactly right next to the dorms. Before you could turn the key, the door opened just slightly. There was Ben in the doorway, blocking your path.
“I forgot to ask for the spare key back… Can I get in my room please? I’m in a hurry for something.”
“That would ruin the surprise.”
“What, Ben?”
“Here. Jane texted me.” He said, handing you the yellow bow you needed.
“Thanks.” You grabbed your bow from him.
“You’re wearing it.” Ben motioned towards his ring.
“Yeah…and it’s not allowed for pictures so…”
“I’ll hold onto it for you.”
He stretched out his hand. You gently slipped the ring off and dropped it into his outstretched hand. You turned to leave and run back to the gym.
“Hey, (Y/N)! Wait!”
You turned back. Ben handed you a letter.
“Mi suino vraicho davelé, Prutia.” (I really am sorry, Princess)
“I…I’ve got to go, Ben.”
You ran back towards the gym to make it for pictures.
“Just in time. Only one team left before we go.” Jane ushered you back over to where the rest of the squad was. “What’s that?”
“Letter from Ben.”
“What’s it say?”
“Let’s find out.”
“What language is that?”
“Maldonian,” you whispered in shock.
Ben wrote a whole letter in Maldonian. You knew it took him a lot of time and probably some help from Jay; Ben was by no standard fluent in Maldonian. He explained everything Mal had already told you and apologized for other things too. It didn’t matter what the letter said at this point. The fact that he took the time to write it in Maldonian. It meant so much to you.
English might have been the official language in Auradon but a few of the smaller kingdoms or territories had their own languages. You learned Maldonian and French Creole before you so much as said a word in English. Maldonia was always a small kingdom, no one outside of it, with the exception of Jay, knew how to speak Maldonian. You were surprised the first time Ben ever asked you how to say hello in Maldonian and certainly never thought he would take it this serious.
“Oh, that’s sweet.” Jane said peering at the letter she couldn’t read.
You didn’t say anything. You set the letter down, grabbed your poms, and got into position for photos with the squad.
~~~~~~
Outside your room door was a small wicker basket with Ben’s old clothes, his beast ring, your favorite socks, and one of your more delicate tiaras. You grabbed the basket and made your way to one of the guest bathrooms near the middle of your dorm floor to change. They weren’t the same sweats you’d worn before. It was one of Ben’s extra tourney uniforms. Without all the padding, the jersey and shorts were pretty comfortable.
You knocked on your room door. Ben opened it part way again, he was in sweats but also had his crown on. So, it was that type of day. Whatever Ben wanted, he meant business when the crown was on.
“Password?”
“Let me into my own room, it’s the middle of the day and I’m out here dressed like an idiot.”
“Mmmm. I would’ve accepted password but I guess that works too.”
Ben opened the door fully to reveal a rose petal path with water lilies in the center leading up to the open bay window. On the seating area attached to the window was a tray of food. Ben grabbed your hand and led you towards the window. He sat on one side of the tray and you sat across from him on the other.
“You did all this? How long did it take you?”
“Since you left for photos, I panicked for a minute when Jane texted. You wanted something past words.” Ben poured your soda for you.
“Jay helped with the letter didn’t he?”
“TC.”
You looked up from the burger you were eating. “TC? But he’s back home and they don’t have… you went all the way to Maldonia for that?”
“TC’s the one who’s been teaching me, all this time. Your fromanno too.”
“James?! Those two ain’t ever keep a secret from me a day in their life.”
“Mi los ho promita para mim.” (I made them promise me)
Ben was more fluent than you thought.
“Are those my mama’s beignets?”
Ben laughed half-heartedly.
“What?”
“Your mother wasn’t trying to give up that recipe for no one.”
“That sounds like my mama.”
“Well, I don’t know how much those taste like your mom’s but I tried.”
You took a bite. They were good, not as good as your mama’s, but good. Ben really pulled out all the stops. He reached out to tuck one of your wayward (Y/H/C) curls behind your ear. Ben’s hand cupped your cheek and on instinct you nuzzled in. You grabbed his hand, still cupping your cheek. To say you missed him would be an understatement. Ben brought your hand to his lips and, when he was confident you wouldn’t pull away, gently kissed it.
You reached for Ben’s crown and placed it on top of your head.
“Are we switching crowns now?” He took your tiara from you. “Am I just as pretty as you?”
“No,” you said with deadpan serious before cracking a smile.
“Hey, thanks for not telling your parents about our fight.” Ben got so quiet you had to lean in to hear. “I really thought I was dead when I went to ask your mom for the beignets.”
“I wasn’t going to tell them. But you do have a lot of explaining to do to my brothers.”
“They already chewed my ear off about it.”
“Good, you kind of deserved it…BEN?!”
He had dipped his fingers in his glass and flicked water on your face. You retaliated, starting a water fight between you guys.
The two of you talked and laughed well past lunch and until the sun went down. Never had you skipped classes before but you and Ben didn’t bother moving when the bell rang to end lunch. You missed dinner and had to order from Rainforest Cafe to your room.
“I missed this, (Y/N). This was nice. Are your folks coming to Family Day?”
Ben was gathering his stuff. You heard him talking from the bathroom where you were tying your headscarf for bed, sometimes you wrapped your hair other times you just used a silk pillow.
“Just my dad and TC. Mama’s going to support James’ playoff game. We need to do something for the VKs.”
“I’ll talk to Fairy Godmother and see what we can do.”
“What’s wrong?”
Ben kept looking at you, ever since you stepped out of the bathroom.
“Nothing,” he said while smiling, “I like seeing you like that, in my clothes. I’ll see you tomorrow, (Y/N).”
You were still in Ben’s tourney uniform. You had planned on just sleeping in it. You all of a sudden felt self-conscious with his eyes on you. You knew you were about to say something you’d probably regret later. But you felt the words coming out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.
“Ben, do you want to stay here tonight?” You asked, fiddling with the bottom of his jersey.
“Yeah… yeah, okay.”
Ben turned off the lights before joining you. He was careful to stay on his side of the bed. You turned over to face him and felt Ben do the same.
“Goodnight, (Y/N).”
“Goodnight, Ben.”
You woke up in the morning with Ben’s arm draped over your stomach, his fingertips touching exposed skin where the jersey had ridden up a little. Ben woke up shortly after you. He quickly pulled back his hand.
“Sorry.”
“S’okay,” you said still sleepy.
“I have to go talk to Fairy Godmother now. I’ll see you later.”
Ben felt emboldened and kissed you on the forehead. You covered your face with your hands to hide your smile. It was something Ben had done a hundred times before but it felt like when you first started dating, butterflies everywhere.You heard Ben laugh. He leaned in next to your ear.
“I promise I’m going to make us right.”
You felt the bed dip and then get lighter as he got up and left.
~~
(Third Person POV)
Ben, (Y/N), and Fairy Godmother stood in front of the VKs in their Goodness 101 class. It didn’t go unnoticed by them that (Y/N) was wearing Ben’s ring again. And they were standing next to each other, fingertips brushing each other.
“Since we can’t exactly bring your parents here, we set up a little surprise for you!” Fairy Godmother chirped enthusiastically.
The VKs turned on the TV to see their parents. The kids ran towards the television.
“Hi, mom.” Mal spoke first.
“Oh, Mal. I m-miss you,” Maleficent struggled to get the words out.
“You children are never far from our thoughts.” Jafar chimed in.
“How long must mommy wait to see you, Mal?”
“Well Ben’s coronation is coming up so probably not till some time after that. It’s really busy around here right now, you know.”
“You sure we can’t see you before that. I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t get my hands on that little magic w— you! Little magic you.”
“I’m positive, mom.”
“I mean we could try to arrange something?” Ben spoke up.
“It’s perfectly fine Ben, we can wait. You guys are really busy around here as it is.”
The villains started arguing amongst themselves, completely ignoring their children. Jay made a move to end the video call.
“Thanks guys for trying, but I think we’re done here.”
“Sorry, guys.”
“It’s fine.”
The VKs walked off.
“Hey M. What do you think our parents are going to do if we don’t pull this off?”
“Oh we’re so dead.”
The VKs camped out in Jay and Carlos’ room trying to come up with a new plan to snatch the wand. They had a time and place but they still needed a plan.
“(Y/N) managed to get us seats up here in the front. We’ll just grab it and go…”
“Easier said than done.”
“Evie.” Mal handed the girl a perfume bottle. “You’ll spray the driver with this, knock him out. Then you and Carlos swing by to get Jay and I.”
The VKs were silent.
“We can do this guys! ‘Cause we’re rotten…”
“To the core.”
(Y/N POV)
Family Day was an overly cheesy display, even by Auradon Prep standards. Ben and the student choir opened the day with a hip-hop rendition of his mom’s favorite song, “Be Our Guest”. You went around helping serve drinks. You wanted no part in the song when Ben asked, it was embarrassing and you  weren’t doing it.
You caught the VKs watching the performance near the snacks table. Mal spotted the strawberries and handed them out for each of the other VKs to try. You walked over to where they stood.
“If you think those are good…”
Mal could see your wicked, or should you say mischievous, smile.
“I’d go for sticking your face in the chocolate fountain.”
You nodded in the direction of the fountain. Jay and Carlos sprinted towards it to take your “advice”.
“Aren’t other people going to eat from that?” Mal asked.
“What?” Your innocent look made her chuckle.
You set down the drinks tray to go get Ben when the song ended.
“Hey! You did great!” You hugged Ben.
“You hated it.”
“No, what I didn’t… yeah, I hated it.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Ben gave you a peck on the lips. It was the first time the two had kissed on the lips since getting back together. You smiled and buried your head in his chest.
“Mi vi vusto ça.” The voice that said it caused you to jump. (I saw that)
“Chilo, Papa.”
You gave your dad a hug.
“Mi Fragee Prutia! Pruto Ben! Soon to be king.” Naveen clapped Ben on the back.
“Chilo, Rei Naveen. Hi, TC.” Ben formally greeted your father and brother.
“TC, why you ain’t warn me you and Papa was coming up?”
“You owe me twenty dollars, Papa.” TC stuck a hand out towards your dad. Naveen worked to fish his wallet out of his pocket.
“You bet money on me?! On what?”
“Ti satubrasse Ben.” TC said counting the money. (You kissing Ben)
“I said you wouldn’t let him in public, TC bet against me.”
“My own brother, and for twenty dollars too.”
TC rolled his eyes and handed you ten dollars out of his twenty. You rubbed his head after pocketing the money.
“I take back every bad thing I’ve ever said about you.”
You were enjoying talking to your family when Ben suddenly squeezed your waist.
“We have a problem.”
Ben motioned towards Audrey and her grandmother next to Mal. You told TC and your dad that you’d be right back and followed Ben towards the commotion.
“Queen Leah, it’s okay. Maleficent is still on the Isle. This is her daughter, Mal. Remember the proclamation about bringing the Isle kids over. Give the new generation a chance.”
“To do what, Ben? Wreak havoc and destroy us?”
If it was just Queen Leah you’d probably have been just fine. But Chad just had to step in and stop Mal when she tried to step to Queen Leah and apologize and then went on a tirade of how evil the VKs were.
“I mean you stole another girl’s boyfriend.”
“That’s enough, Chad!” You tried.
“And you,” Chad said to Evie, “are nothing but a gold digging cheater.”
“Magic mirror in my hand, who’s the biggest jerk in the land?”
Evie shoved the mirror in Chad’s face. He knocked the mirror out of her hand, making Jay and Carlos jump in.
“Hey, don’t touch her!”
Ben was caught in the middle trying to hold back both Chad and Jay. Evie sprayed something on Chad making him drop.
“What did she do?! Evie did something to Chad!” Audrey yelled drawing even more attention.
“Papa, TC! Get them out of here. Go! Follow my dad.” You told the VKs. Them staying would only make everything worse.
“I was worried something like this would happen,” Beast said.
“It’s not their fault, Dad.”
“No, son, it’s yours.”
You found the VKs after all the commotion died down under one of the outdoor picnic benches. Family Day ended shortly after your dad escorted them away. They gave you sad looks as you sat down. Other Auradon kids were at the tables behind them.
“Evie,” Doug approached. “Are you alri—”
“Doug!” Jane called him over.
“One second.”
“Doug!”
He gave the table an apologetic smile and sulked toward the Auradon table. You watched Mal pull out her spellbook.
“Beware forswear, undo Jane’s hair.”
You could hear Jane scream along with the other Auradon girls laughing and didn’t have to look to know her old bob was back.
“That wasn’t very nice.” You said, snickering as you did. Ben came up behind you resting his hands on your shoulders.
“Hey guys, how are you? You know forget about it. Everything will be fine after coronation tomorrow. I have to go do preparations, but it’ll be fine. I promise.”
“Ben’s delusional.”
You and the VKs could hear Audrey from the table behind you.
“Does he really think it’ll be fine. A villain will always be a villain, no matter how many pretty bows you try to put on it. Evil has a stench and they reek of it.”
“Audrey!” You stood up from the table.
Mal angrily closed her spellbook and nodded to the other VKs. “That’s it. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
They walked off.
“Guys, wait… Look what you did, Audrey!” You scolded her before you went after the VKs.
~~~~~~~~~
You were escorted to the carriage where Ben was already waiting.
“You look beautiful,” he said as you sat down.
“You look very handsome.”
The carriage pulled off, signaling the beginning of the parade. Ben waved to all the citizens out on the streets cheering. You smiled and nodded at the random person who happened to yell your name as well. You tried to control your breathing. Ben grabbed your hand.
“How is it my coronation and you’re the more nervous one?” he tried to joke but it didn’t help.
“What if I can’t get the wand to work?”
“You’ve been practicing with Mal right?”
You nodded. Almost every night, for an hour right before curfew, you met in Mal and Evie’s room to practice magic. For someone who grew up her whole life not being able to use her magical abilities, Mal was a prodigy no doubt about it. You saw up close the power of someone magic born.
“Then you’ll be fine. No matter what, as long as you’re up there it’ll be perfect.”
Ben was right. Besides, you had secured the VKs to stand off to the side up front with your family in case you needed Mal’s help with the magic.
The carriage stopped at the bottom of the steps to the Grand Cathedral. Snow White stopped you right before you went up. Time for the customary questions. For Ben, a bunch of questions on his nerves today and his position. For you, who are you wearing, how typical. This time you didn’t mind as you were proud to let everyone know you were wearing one of Evie’s designs.
Everyone in the cathedral watched as Fairy Godmother took the crown off of Beast’s head and placed it on Ben’s. She then unveiled the wand in its glass case and gently placed it in your hands. You curtsied to her and then turned towards Ben who was kneeling on the steps.
“Do you solemnly swear to govern the peoples of Auradon with justice and mercy as long as you shall reign?”
“I do.”
“Then it is my honor to bless our new king. All hail King Benjamin, first of name, leader of Auradon. Long may he reign.”
“Long may he reign.” The cathedral echoed back.
You tapped the wand once on Ben’s left shoulder and then on his right. This was now the part you had been dreading. The cathedral ceiling opened and Ben stood up behind you on your right and Beast joined him on your left. You were supposed to conjure up a giant golden rose that Beast and Ben would send up into the sky together to mark the end of one reign and start of another. Once in the sky, you’d have to “explode” the rose and a magnificent gold firework will burst over Auradon. Right now, you wanted to just focus on the rose.
Before you could get the magic flowing to your fingertips, Fairy Godmother’s wand was snatched from your hand, a deafening boom and a lightning strike rang through the castle and landed who knows where. Everyone gasped as Mal held the wand.
“Let’s go.” Jay said as the VKs stood behind Mal.
“Mal! Please! You don’t have to do this!” Ben yelled.
“We have no choice, our parents—”
“Your parents made their choice, now it’s time to make yours.”
“I think I want to be good,” Mal whispered.
“And you are.”
“How do you know, Ben?!”
“Because—”
“Because you’re not your parents.” You cut Ben off causing Mal and the other VKs to look at you.
“You don’t have to do this because of them. You don’t have to be like them, I know that’s not what you want because I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it in my best friends. You all belong here in Auradon.”
“They’ll kill us if we don’t,” Mal said, tears streaming down her face.
“They can’t reach you. We’ll never let them hurt you.” Ben spoke up with authoritative figure.
You stepped closer to Mal and this time she didn’t step back. “Please, M. Just give it to me. This isn’t you. I’m listening with my heart and I know it’s not you.”
“I want to listen with my heart too.”
Mal turned and looked at Evie, Carlos, and Jay.
“And my heart is telling me that we are not our parents. I mean, Jay, stealing doesn’t make you happy. Tourney does. Carlos, hanging out with Dude makes you happy. Evie, designing makes you happy.”
Mal looked back at you. “And practicing magic with you makes me happy. All six of us being friends makes me really happy. I want to be good guys.”
“So do I,” they echoed back.
Mal went to hand back the wand but it was too late. Just as the wand was about to reach your hand, Maleficent flew in and took it.
“NO!” You and Mal yelled at the same time.
All of a sudden you felt your whole body freeze, the only thing that could move were your eyes to watch the scene unfold in front of you. You watched Jay try to wrestle Maleficent’s staff from her only to lose. Now it was up to Mal. Maleficent turned into a dragon. You watched as Mal’s eyes turned bright green as she tried to conjure up enough magic to take down her mom.
You were watching Mal’s hand shake and she slow sank to her knees. She wasn’t going to do it, not as long as Maleficent had her scepter and Fairy Godmother’s wand on her.
“Come on, Mal!” You mentally yelled, trying to get the message through somehow. You couldn’t even feel magic at your fingertips, let alone enough to actually reach her.
Mal looked over at you for a brief second. Could she have actually heard? You might not have been able to move but your magic seemed to still work, at least mentally. You had only ever done this once before and it was something you swore you would never try again. But you were desperate and would do anything to save Auradon. It might have been time to resort to your dad’s nemesis, Dr. Facilier’s, speciality. Shadow magic.
You could see the shadow of your arm that was reaching out. You willed it to get up off the ground. You saw a slight flicker of movement. The shadow peeled itself off the floor and stalked towards Maleficent. You knew Mal could see it coming. The two of you had to time it correctly. Right as Mal put in all the strength she had, your shadow grabbed the scepter and wand. You watched as Maleficent shrank to a lizard. All of a sudden, you were able to move again.
Your shadow dropped the wand and scepter and went back to the ground before anyone else could notice. You ran to hug Mal.
“What was that?”
“Something we’re never going to mention to anyone else,” you whispered. “What happened to your mom?”
“Mal shrunk her to the size of the love in her heart…that’s why she’s so small.” Fairy Godmother stepped in.
She picked up the wand from the floor and handed it to you to finish the ceremony. Ben and the other VKs gathered around you and Mal.
“You know what Fairy Godmother? I think we’ve all had enough of the coronation. Let’s get the after party started… Oh ay,” you said waiting for the others to join in.  
“OH AY, HEY!”
~~
“I see we’ve moved from tangerines to apples, now.”
Ben laughed as you jumped, gripping onto your locker for dear life. You weren’t expecting him back for another few days.
“Oh, well you know it’s only cause they ran out yesterday.” You leaned against your locker cooly, as if nothing happened.
“Mmm, okay.” Ben wrapped you up in a hug. “How is my Fragee Prutia?”
“I’m good. Did something happen? You weren’t supposed to be back till Thursday?”
As Ben’s royal advisor, you knew all his schedules. He was on a tour, visiting kingdom to kingdom in Auradon as new king, making sure everything was well in the nation. You had blocked out two weeks for him. Ben’s job as king wasn’t easy to balance with school and you tried to take on any jobs you could but the tour was one he had to do himself.
“How many problems did you think the kingdoms were going to have? How have you been holding down the fort here?”
“This Cotillion is going to be the best one yet. It’s on a boat! Well, not yet. We hold idea meetings next week. I’m getting the boat though; Mal’s going to back me up on that.”
“Hey, (Y/N)…”
Your phone alarm interrupted Ben. It was a notification from the palace with your schedule. And on your schedule was being a mediator in the conflict with Cinderellasburg and Charmington over ownership rights to a new mine on the border in five minutes.
“Oop, got to go Benny-boo.” You moved to leave when Ben grabbed your hand.
“Ben, meeting.” You shook your cell phone.
“I’m making the executive decision to add someone to our personal team. This is a lot for two of us. Think about it and give me some names.”
“Okay. I’ll see you after my meeting.”
You kissed Ben on the cheek and left.
~~~~~~~~
You and Ben stood over Mal and the other VKs at their lunch table.
“Benny-boo, (Y/N/N), do you want to maybe sit down?”
“So Mal, we were thinking since you and I basically do everything together, joining us as royal advisor.”
Mal laughed before realizing you two were serious. “Oh no no, do we remember how that went last time.”
“Last time you spelled my boyfriend… you’re not replacing me just joining. I’m taking a new title as Council Master and you would be taking on king’s royal advisor. We’ll split our jobs, you handle Auradon Prep and the Isle I’ll handle everything else in Auradon. Come on, it’s free trips with me and Ben.”
“Okay. But I’m not taking sides in arguments between the two of you.”
“Understood.”
“Great, now sit down all that standing is making me anxious.”
You and Ben sat with the VKs. Ben started talking Mal through her new duties while you stole fries off of Jay and Carlos’ trays.
“So, we’ve thought about it and bringing over VKs isn’t enough. As king, I should rule all the people of Auradon and that goes for the Isle too. We wanted to try and improve life for those on the Isle, especially kids waiting to come.”
The VKs looked at you and Ben.
“I think that’s a great idea, you two.” Jay said.
“So what was life like on the Isle?”
“Not pretty.”
You sat in horror as the VKs described their old lives. You knew the Isle was to hold villains and their sidekicks and even a few prisoners but you didn’t know it was that bad. You were already making a list of things that you and Ben would have to change, starting with the food being sent there. No one deserves to eat rotten Auradon scraps.
“We did all that?”
“You did worse…but look, you guys are trying to do something about it. And you’ve got me as a helper now, the Isle has a real chance now thanks to you guys.”
~~~~~~~
You and Ben were studying in the common room lounge together. You peered up over your science book to see Ben doing the same thing. This was one of the few peace-and-quiet times for you guys, studying and sleeping. The only times you were absolutely sure no one would interrupt and there were no duties to take care of. You watched Ben set his book down and lean towards you.
“I’m tired of studying.” He kissed your forehead, then the tip of your nose, and then your cheek. He was trying to put your textbook down.
“Ben, I have a test next period.”
“Then studying now isn’t going to help you do much better is it?”
Ben succeeded in getting you to put the textbook down and began to kiss you properly. He was about to take it up a notch when the bell rang. You could hear a growl coming from the back of his throat as he had to pull away.
“What was that?”
You weren’t going to act like you didn’t hear it.
“I don’t question how you jump five feet in the air when you’re scared do I?”
Your eyes widened and you could feel a laugh coming on. You always joked and called Ben “Beast Boy” but you didn’t think it was true. The same way you retained some frog like tendencies from your parents’ time as some, you didn’t realize the same concept applied to Ben. You wondered how beast he could really get. You had a few froggy ways and your parents were only frogs for a few days. King Adam had been a beast for ten years.
“So, do you shed too?”
“Don’t you have a test to get to.”
After your science test was a meeting with the Cotillion committee. Mal was already in the room, she had to be there as royal advisor. You didn’t care much about the decorations, you were oddly invested in your boat.
“I’m just saying a boat would be such a unique venue.”
“(Y/N), I know you’re really passionate and I do think it’s a unique concept but logistically it doesn’t make much sense. If people are late, how are we supposed to get them there once the boat’s taken off? If someone gets seasick? Your present?” Sydney, one of the committee members, tried to gently shoot you down. Mal patted your arm as you sat down.
“I’m not doing a present.”
“Well, it’s tradition for—”
“Ben hasn’t even asked me to Cotillion.”
“Trust me, we know.”
“What does she mean we know?” Mal asked.
“She gets kicked off of the committee once he asks her.”
“That seems harsh.”
“It’s just how we do things, Mal. It’s like a bride wouldn’t plan her own bachelorette party, moms don’t plan their own baby showers.” Jane said.
“Ok. Mark that down as one more AK thing I’ve learned.”
Mal being royal advisor was one of the best decisions for the VKs. Most Auradon kids finally opened up to them. Kids like Jane even apologized and became pretty good friends with them.
“So when do you think Ben’s going to ask? How do you think?”
“No time soon and he’ll just ask. Guys, we’re already dating. I’m not some princess he has to woo.”
“Woah, woah. Even I know how Cotillion normally works. Isn’t there supposed to be some big gesture. A sign, candy?”
The other members nodded at what Mal said.
“Ben’s king now and really busy. It’s just an ask, it’s not that big a deal with me and him.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
Wonderland was your least favorite Region of Auradon to visit. You always had to tie a rope around your waist, one end connected to the door in which you entered. After several trips there, you’d think you would’ve at least gotten basic directions.
You envied Mal and Ben’s upcoming trip to Agrabah. You were stuck on Wonderland and Neverland trying to chart all their systems of magic and working together to come up with a decent set of rules.
You didn’t like Wonderland and Neverland when it came to magic. They weren’t like Maldonia, their magic was unstable and had no rules or regulations. Plus Peter Pan got on your nerves, he was always trying to expose you and get your shadow to play with his. For someone who claimed to have grown up, he never grew up.
It was past dinner when you finally returned to Auradon Prep.You were at your locker to put up the reports and first draft contracts, you didn’t want to carry them in your backpack when they wouldn’t be needed for a few more days. Your crown started to feel heavy on your head, you seemed to wear it more days than not now, with all your travels. The crown was almost always an outfit requirement when on official business trips.
“How did they risk letting such a pretty face get lost in Wonderland?”
“Hey, Derek. Well, when you’re the one with the best diplomacy they send you to deal with ‘we’ve all gone mad here’.”
You made made a gesture similar to one the Mad Hatter was famous for, making Derek laugh. You knew Derek around school, he was in a few classes and generally the class clown. Rarely serious, but always a good time that one was.
“Best diplomacy or best smile? I don’t think Ben’s face, as handsome as may be, is what they want to be looking at all day.”
“Well, aren’t you quite the charmer.”
“I believe that’s Chad’s job.”
“He doesn’t do it very well.”
“We can’t all be as dazzling as you, Prutia.”
You heard a low growl and knew it was Ben before his hand was even on your waist.
“Hey, Ben.” You said as he kissed your hand.
“Hey (Y/N), Derek.”
“Hi, Ben. I was just telling (Y/N) here that you’re going to lose a pretty face like that in Wonderland.”
“Oh, I don’t plan on losing anything.” Ben hadn’t let go of your hand yet.
“Sure hope not. Would hate to lose such a rose at Auradon Prep. I’ll see you two around. Bye, Ben. Prutia.”
“Bye, Der—”
You felt your back hit the locker before you could even finish saying Derek’s name. Ben kissed your neck and up your jawline.
“What brought this on?”
“I don’t like the way he looked at you when you were talking.”
“It’s just Derek. He wasn’t looking at me any way.”
“Prutia is my thing for you.” Ben stopped kissing your jaw and looked at your lips.
“I kinda like the way he says Prutia,” you knew you were fueling Ben’s jealousy but you kinda liked this more feral side. “Adds more of a z sound to the tia par—”
Ben gripped your waist harder and kissed you roughly. You smiled into the kiss.
“What did you like hearing him say?”
“Prutia.”
Ben growled and went back to your lips. Your hair fell in the way. Ben ungraciously pushed it out the way, causing your crown to hit the ground. His hand rested under your chin, tilting your head up so he could kiss you better, when you heard shutters go off.
“Shit.” Ben whispered against your lips, quickly pulling away trying to compose himself.
Paparazzi frequented around Auradon and wandered ever so often into the main campus but they had never gotten as far as the lockers before. And they just busted you and Ben in a full makeout session by the lockers.
“Oh! Ben, Ben.”
You grabbed Ben’s face quickly before he could turn and face them. Your lipstick had rubbed off on him. You swiped your thumb over his lips. Ben picked your crown up from the ground and placed it gently on your head. The paparazzi were calling both of your names over and over again.  
“Busted,” Mal said coming up behind you two.
You knew she reveled in the fact you and Ben were just caught being “not-so-Auradon” in public.
“Princess (Y/N), how does it feel to be dating Ben? You’ve moved up in positions, how are you taking it? The deals with Wonderland and Neverland…” The questions were endless.
“Amazing. Mal is doing great in my old job and I’m happy to have more responsibility. The deals are going great; we are making progress to the next stage. No, yes, yes, no, a rep from the palace will release a statement on that very soon.”
Ben squeezed your shoulder, proud of the grace with which you answered and handled the questions coming left and right.
“Mal! Mal!”
“Oh, as royal advisor, she is under contract to not speak directly to press unless at a scheduled event until she is fully inducted.”
You watched Mal scoot past the paparazzi and shoot you and Ben a look of thanks. You wished you had a bullshit excuse to walk past them too. You plastered a smile on your face and listened absentmindedly as Ben answered questions.
“(Y/N)? You and Ben have been dating since you first arrived in Auradon, would you say it was love at first sight?”
“I’m not so sure about that, I think I was more focused on fitting in at Auradon. Plus Ben was with Audrey, we didn’t notice each other at all right away I’d say.”
Success in politely answering yet evading at the same time. Standard tactics, give them what they want but nothing they can try to use against you.
“Speaking of Audrey, King Ben? Everyone says you’ve downgraded. How do you feel knowing Maldonia isn’t as big of a kingdom with less prestige than Auroria? Especially after the marriage of Prince Naveen and commoner Tiana? Does it bother you the other kingdoms might have a problem with the potential union of your families?”
Ben’s arm tensed around your shoulder. “We’re done here. If you excuse us.”
Ben led you away. “I swear I didn’t know they were going to ask those questions. I’ll let Fairy Godmother know about them coming farther into campus.”
You laced your fingers through Ben’s. You wanted to tell him it was all okay, but you knew he wouldn’t listen. It wasn’t the first time, or even the twentieth time, you had listend to people speak of Maldonia as one of the lesser kingdoms. It was part of the reasons Maldonians kept to themselves.
(Part 4)...
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cno-inbminor · 3 years
Text
iterum vivere (childe/tartaglia)
a/n: wow, it’s been fucking forever. first genshin fic featuring childe/tartaglia!!! a very huge thank you to @suspensin​ for reading this over and being my rock and support, and i love her so fucking much. I couldn’t have finished this without her!
plot: reincarnation and modern/uni!au ft. afab reader!traveler with she/they pronouns x childe/tartaglia 
-- in which meeting childe is a bit of a dangerous game of push and pull
wc: 12.1k; angst + fluff
warnings:  DOES CONTAIN IN-GAME SPOILERS (1.5? 1.6? + story quest and idek) and NSFW MENTIONS (mdni to be safe). there’s no explicit smut but thoughts do run a bit wild here and there
EDIT: Altered ChiLumi version now posted on AO3 here!
“Haven’t we met before?”
The shine in your eyes does nothing to hide your curiosity, head even tilting a little in observation. He watches them scan his face for any recognizable features, but attempts to focus on the strange, taut string of déjà vu that pulls him toward you. In a moment of absentmindedness, he had heard a faint voice call out his name from your direction. Confusion overtook him as you weren’t looking at him, but something inside his brain said that it had to be from you. And so his feet redirected his path towards your figure in the student union building, as if on a mission.
“A fucking whale, Childe?”
Oh.
“I don’t think so…?” You trail off, curiosity now replaced by perplexed feelings. “Do we have a class together?”
I think I would’ve noticed you by now if you were.
“Ah, what’s your major?” Childe asks quickly to avoid listening to the little voice in his head.
“History and anthropology, you?”
“Economics, but I’ve taken a history course for core credits. Maybe it was then?”
“With Dr. Zhong?”
“Yes!” He snaps his fingers. Part of his brain decides to usefully function and scan his memories to see if he remembers your face or head of hair in the lecture hall then. “Last year? Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10 to 11:20?”
“Actually, yeah,” you affirm in surprise. You think you would remember the relatively attractive ginger in your class, but honestly, it had all been such a blur and you were often pretty sleepy during class. Dr. Zhong didn’t quite appreciate it, but you made up for it with your exam and essay grades, as well as paying better attention in some of his other courses.
“Did you need me for anything?”
“I’d like for you to come visit and meet my family.”
He’s really not appreciating this extra voice speaking for him.
“Well…uh…” Childe stammers and looks away sheepishly, hand rubbing the back of his neck. He honestly had no reason for approaching you, and now, he just looks like a desperate idiot. Think quick, he tells himself, floundering for some shitty excuse.
“I wanted to, uh, take another history course as an elective and um, wanted to know if you had any recommendations?”
“Oh,” you blink. That’s a first. When he meets your gaze, the swirling shades of sapphire strike something deep within you. Flashes of events you can’t make out go by in the blink of an eye, but then you realize you’ve been staring for too long. Blood rushes to your cheeks because you don’t exactly want this guy to get the wrong idea from you, because how are you supposed to explain, “I’m sorry, but I think we have met before, but just a really, really long time ago, and we might’ve been more than just acquaintances because that’s what it feels like?”
“I think you’d like Teyvat Mythology,” your voice wavers on the verge of cracking. “Dr. Zhong might have a TA this time around, but Xiao’s a great teacher. Doesn’t have long, rambling anecdotes, but explains things well and gets straight to the point.”
“C-cool, I’ll look into it,” Childe replies and smiles brightly. “I’ll head out then,” jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, where he just realized he left a grouchy Scaramouche waiting by a vending machine, newly purchased Starbucks Tripleshot drink in hand. “Nice seeing you, (y/n).”
He scurries off before you both realize that you never told him your name.
“Who’s that?” Scaramouche asks, jutting his chin in your vague direction.
“Someone from my Intro to Liyuean History course last year,” Childe waves off. “Come on, let’s go before the line at the pasta bar gets too long.”
-
The next time you see Childe is by accident, traversing across an open field of grass that many students like to sit out on to relax with friends, sunbathe, hold events, or play casual team sports if room permits.
You had your earbuds in and were scrolling through social media when laughter rang above all other sound, causing your head to snap up and swivel around to find the source. And while it might’ve been strange to an outsider, your steps immediately slowed as you watched the man of your tiring, vivid dreams sprint in your direction, eyes pinned on a frisbee heading towards him.
He’s wearing a grey sports tank and basketball shorts, headband holding back his bangs as he makes a slight jump in the air to catch the plastic disc between his palms. His feet plant into the grass as he looks for someone to pass it to, and you watch (with embarrassment) the muscles in his throwing arm relax and tighten with practice, frisbee steadily soaring through the air in a beautiful arc towards a teammate. He then lightly jogs to get closer to his group, but then his back stiffens.
Before your instincts kick in for you to turn and bail, he looks over his shoulder and stares straight at your now stunned self.
The sole ruby earring that glints in the sunlight catches your attention, and you recall your dreams of terrifyingly dark, violet electric power, blades of water rushing toward you, and then the stomach-churning sensation of falling from great heights pours concrete into your veins—
Childe looks a little amused for having your sole focus, hand lifting up for a quick wave. And as you numbly return the greeting, your heart beats out, “Run from him.”
And so with the flight response pulsing and firing from your synapses, you abruptly speed walk away, almost breaking out into a sprint towards your dorm. You ignore his pointed, confused look, and pretend you don’t feel the two holes of imaginary fire searing into your back. It isn’t until you’re laying back in bed that you release a huge sigh of relief and pray to a deity you don’t believe in that those eyes of mirth will not haunt you tonight.
But of course, with a deity that doesn’t exist, the prayers go unanswered.
-
“Do you believe in any of the mythology you teach?” You ask Xiao about a few days later when you stop by his cubicle. Luckily, no one else is around for this conversation, and Xiao has always been kind enough to humor your thoughts. Granted, he might feel obligated because you had asked Dr. Zhong to be your advisor for your undergraduate Honors thesis, and Xiao was directed to be your receiver of some general questions and source of information if he wasn’t around.
A quick scan of your complexion tells Xiao everything he needs to know. Your eyes are overtaken with rumination and exhaustion, haziness clouding them as you seem to ponder over your own question. It’s not often that you ask him anything not related to your thesis or coursework.
“Perhaps there’s some sense and truth to the tales passed down,” he softly muses. “What makes you ask?”
You lift yourself to sit on the clean area next to his computer, legs slowly swaying back and forth. “It might sound crazy but...I’ve been having dreams lately. They feel too real, too natural to be anything that my mind would make up. I’ve never had the most creative imagination by any means, which is why there’s some comfort to me being a history major, but I can’t shake these.”
“So why ask me about the mythology?”
“...the Archons are there. I even dreamt that I met the Geo and Anemo Archons. And they controlled various elements, just like we were taught.”
You don’t notice that Xiao has ceased his rapid typing, fingers hovering over the keyboard before one hand removes his glasses from his face. He uses the other to rub his eyes and softly pinch the bridge of his nose before sliding the frames back on. Dark, golden amber eyes survey you as you grapple with the unfathomable possibilities of your nightly visions, at least until you shake your head in disbelief at yourself and lightly scoff.
“Who am I kidding?” You ask no one in particular. “Maybe I’ve been doing too much research and everything’s mixing together.”
“You’re ahead of schedule, if that provides any consolation.”
“Some.”
-
It takes Childe a grand total of one minutes and 53 seconds to sign up for Teyvat Mythology for the spring semester.
-
WInter in Liyue is only slightly miserable, being so close to the ocean. It’s chillier than usual on this dreary day, yet something compelled you to exit your dorm and shakily make your way to the campus coffee shop for a warm drink. Coffee, hot chocolate, you haven’t quite decided yet, but just as you let yourself bask in the warm building, familiar ginger hair and blue eyes wash away the comfort.
Or do they douse you in security?
They remind you of your recent dreams that now have shifted away from stress and violence to easygoing summer days by the oceanside, running barefoot in the sand while collecting beautifully patterned azure starconches. Sometimes, you thrust a hand towards an oversized four-leaf clover on a wooden stake with the power of wind and catch yourself in the air, soaring and looking around to find more of the little shells. Other nights, they consist of climbing steep cliffs, only to sit at the edge in the clouds with fatigue wracking through your system and marvel at the view before you.
Someone’s always with you though, ruby earring and maroon mask and cobalt blue gem hanging from the waist, sprinting with you, playfully tackling you down, pulling you up towards mountain peaks, laying their head on your shoulders, brushing their lips against your cheek--
You welcome the change of peace in those dreams, but only because they don’t leave you quite as tired the next day, as if you’d been avoiding an inescapable dark force.
Part of you wants the burning question of why this person, this man, in all his glory and brightness, affects you so fucking much when you barely even know the guy -- why looking at him sends your heart to lodge itself in your esophagus, why your lungs feel like they’re so close to being completely collapsed under the weight of his stare, why feeling like you’re trapped and  caught between wanting to run towards yet away from him.  It makes no sense, and you’re tired of trying to make sense of anything you don’t exactly want to remember from your dreams for some, once again, inexplicable reason.
But there’s no time to think as he quickly ambles towards you, your own feet shuffling forward to meet him in a warped reference of a distance that constitutes to “the middle” before you can stop yourself. Your shivering hasn’t quite stopped yet, and Childe seems to take notice of it.
“Pretty cold out there,”  he softly states. It’s cute, the way you’re curling in on yourself to retain some warmth.
“Y-yeah, not sure why I decided I really needed something warm to drink right now,” you reply and avoid his gaze. He watches you peer over his shoulder to squint at the menu display hanging from the ceiling, seemingly contemplating on what you should get.
“How about I get yours today? My treat for your class recommendation last time.” Anything to keep you here longer. Childe doesn’t realize how much he’s missed you, which confuses him, and chooses to ignore the fact that he’d been camping himself at the study tables in the building where the history department is located in hopes of even just catching a quick glimpse of you.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you immediately attempt to subvert his generous offer, hands shooting out from your jacket pockets and waving in rejection. “It was nothing.”
“Please?” Childe puts on his best puppy eyes before reaching for one of your wrists, gently tugging you to the register. “Just this once?”
You want so badly to squash the tiny flare of disappointment that erupts in your chest from the newly acquired knowledge that this was just a one time thing. Do econ majors hate to feel in debt? That they must be even with everyone, or would rather have people indebted to them than the other way around?
There’s no time to think when Childe gives the cashier his order before turning to you, and without wanting to waste anyone’s time, you rattle off your usual beverage. He’s quick in fishing out his student ID to spend some of his campus currency, shooting you a boyish grin when you pout at your half-opened wallet.
“Go take that table over there,” he says, pointing to one in the corner by some windows. “I’m gonna tell my friends to go on without me.”
“I didn’t mean to intrude or pull you away from them,” you slightly panic. The sooner you can leave, the better. Right? “You don’t need to sit with me, I was just gonna head back to my dorm.”
“I insist. Go ahead, I’ll be right there.”
Why your brain takes his orders over your own is a mystery in and of itself, because before you know it, you’re plopped down in one of the lounge seats and staring off into space, mind reeling over the last two minutes. You pretend you can’t hear the way Childe’s friends nudge his arm playfully with their shoulders, wiggling their eyebrows suggestively as Childe tries to get them to stop being nonsensical.
“You’re gonna scare them off,” he hisses at them, hands pushing at their backs so they could finally leave him to his devices.
“Not before you do!” One of them laughs and Childe groans at their antics. “All right, all right, we’ll go. They’re cute though, might steal them if you don’t make a move.”
The darkening of the aura surrounding Childe is too quick for them to fully process, not before he dampens any of their fleeting hopes with a, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”
But it disappears just as fast when his and your drinks are called out, and he gives them one last shove before retrieving your to-go cups. Childe directs all his focus towards the seat diagonally from yours as opposed to the one that’s straight across, and you’re sharply ripped away from whatever reverie you let yourself slip into.
“Thank you,” you murmur, hands cupping the drink and feeling the heat seep into your fingertips. “You really didn’t have to, it was nothing big.”
“Can you blame me for just trying to find an excuse to finally talk to you?” He asks without a skip and you can’t tell if the quickening of your heartbeat is from a looming sense of doom or excitement. Those eyes, the tiny swirls of the ocean, blue like those shells buried in the sand--
It takes three seconds too long for you to understand where he was going with in his words, and part of you feels unamused at his smooth talking. You’ve always guarded yourself against guys like Childe, devilishly handsome who know their way around language semantics, ready to pull you in and just as ready to push you away. That (possibly unfair) bias, coupled with everything else you’ve been feeling for him, sounded the alarms and set the walls up around your heart. Perhaps you need to stop wearing your heart on your sleeve, because Childe immediately retracts his forwardness.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I promise I’m not looking for anything in return and you don’t owe me anything, but I really did just...want to sit and talk and...get to know you?” Childe trails off a little towards the end. Your body loosens up and relaxes just a tiny bit, feeling bad for your snap judgment. Let the guy do something nice, don’t look into it too much, you tell yourself. It’s a coffee, not a five-course dinner.
You reach out a hand towards him, small smile across your lips, ready for his to join yours in a quick handshake. “I’m (y/n), senior history and anthropology double major. It’s nice to meet you.”
The pounding of your heart against your ribcage has nothing to do with the shimmering of his eyes, nothing to do with the fact that his hand fits with yours just right, and nothing to do with the fact that an eerily similar voice from your dreams whispers, “I love you.”
You learn a number of things about Tartaglia in the four hours, like his family members and their respective interests, which classes he did and didn’t enjoy taking, certain takes on Schnezhnayan politics, his own various hobbies, crazy accidents from the occasional college parties, and more. He’s a bit of an open book, probably telling you way more than any regular person would, and definitely more than anything you revealed during all this time. Everything you tell him seems surface level, nothing too deep. The walls are still there to protect you from the unexplainable, profound feelings his presence seems to elicit, and luckily, he doesn’t prod any further. Childe feels the resistance and respects it, which just adds more brownie points in your book, and you almost feel bad for having given so little in return.
“I wish we were taking Teyvat Myth together,” he sighs when walking you back to your dorm, hands stuffed in his pockets. His ruby earring catches the light from the sunset, the shade almost complimentary to the golden amber rays that streak across the sky. “Would’ve helped having a history major in there.”
“Is that all I am to you, an answer bank?” You jokingly ask, but he watches concerningly as you shoot your gaze to the ground, mindfully stepping over the cracks between concrete slabs.
“Of course not,” a gentle sincerity reaches you, giving you the confidence to make eye contact with him. “I’m sorry for making it sound like that, it wasn’t my intention. I really just meant it as a way of saying if the professor or TA ended up being a total bore, then well, having you would make it more fun.”
“I’m sure I’d bore you even more,” chuckling, speeding up to get away. You’re growing too comfortable in whatever atmosphere Childe has created, like an enclosed air bubble bobbing gently in the depths of the sea and letting the waves carry you both to whichever ends of the earth.
“Hey,” he interjects, hand reaching out to stop you with a soft yank of your wrist. There is no resisting force from you, feet stepping backward until he meets you eye to eye. It’s unfair in the way that he can render you motionless by standing just an inch from you, arms brushing with his head tilted closer to your own. “Seriously, I’m glad we did this today. Are you?”
No, because now I don’t know what to think, I don’t know who you are, I’m not any closer to figuring out why you terrify yet leave me so enamoured with you, I’m torn between punching and kissing you and--
“Yes,” you subconsciously answer, brain immediately short-circuiting to scold yourself. “I had fun.”
His grin, charming, devilish, is so so bright, bright enough to rival the Liyue sun that sits on the pier, on the edge of the ocean, bright enough to rival the love that your fraternal twin showers you with on a daily basis. You want time to stop right here because you’re almost sick of the voice settled deep within your heart that screams, “Don’t get comfortable, you must run from him!”
“Good. Let’s do this again?” And you nod, of course you do. Foolish you. “Don’t be a stranger!” He calls out as he turns on his heel and waves over his shoulder, hand raised in the air, and you’re suddenly transported to another scene, a less refined version of the Liyue Harbor, watching as the head of ginger hair with a red mask in a flashier attire of grey and maroon walks away from you and onto a roaring, magnificent ship; big, ivory sails only seen in books and museums. It’s the same gesture of “see you later”, and just before he turns, you blink, and you’re back to seeing your campus again.
But Childe does look back once, warm and content that you’re still standing there, watching over him, and he can’t help but think about when he can spend time with you again, because suddenly, it truly feels like there’s not enough of it anymore.
-
“Excuse me, what’s a Red Bull?”
The last thing, or person rather, you expect to see on the last day of finals for the fall semester, is a small boy who looks way too young to be here, tugging on the sleeve of your windbreaker. He’s at most eleven, ten maybe, but he has eerily similar characteristics, as well as an accent that doesn’t quite belong to most Liyue natives. Still gathering your bearings from your own perusing of the fridges that hold all the possible beverages a college student could consume, you kneel down until you’re at eye level with the child.
“Repeat that for me? Are you looking for a Red Bull, you say?”
“Yes!” He beams and holds out a student ID that most definitely doesn’t belong to him. “My brother asked me to grab him one because he was busy with something.”
Your eyes flit over to the top shelves where the aforementioned cans of caffeine are located, and definitely too high for someone of his height to reach. “I’ll grab one for you. Did he ask for a specific flavor?”
“Nope, he said regular. Thanks, you’re really nice! Do you know my brother?” He asks, waving the ID at you so you can get a better look at the name. That’s definitely a face you recognize, but the name leaves you confused.
“Yeah, um,” glance over again, “I know...Ajax…”
“He’s the best toy seller in the whole world!”
Somehow, it suits him much better than Childe or Tartaglia, and you’re not quite sure what toys have anything to do with the matter at hand. Speaking of hands, the little boy grabs yours in sheer delight. “Can you take me back to his room? I kinda forgot the directions he told me, and everything’s so big around here.”
“Sure, just let me buy something, too, and I’ll take you.”
“Okay!”
The cashier isn’t the least bit fazed by the little brunette at your side -- it’s always common for family members to come in around the end of semesters to pick up kids or visit, and being an open building with snacks and drinks and a stopping point of most tours, they’ve seen it all. You even let him pick out a bag of chips and a candy bar for himself for being so polite and not a complete menace, paying with your own campus currency.
Teucer, as you’ve learned in the last two minutes, likes to point out things and ask you questions. Luckily, you have answers to most of them and do your best to pad the time, enjoying the feeling of a tiny hand wrapped around three of your fingers. It’s sweet to any normal passerby, believing they’re witnessing an older sister doting on their little brother around the holidays, but to Childe, seeing the tender sweetness on your face as you nod along to whatever Teucer is rambling about to you, sets his heart aflame. He’s already constantly on the verge of wanting to hug and kiss you and never let go, but you haven’t made any indication that you could potentially like him back, and this is just torture.
“Look what they bought me!” Teucer shoves his rewards in Childe’s face as if he had extremely poor eyesight, and you can’t help but laugh a little as you set his Red Bull down on his desk, clutching your own preferred beverage while looking around his room. Finals must have gotten to him with the unusual lack of tidiness in the small space, some laundry strewn here and there, a couple boxes of eaten microwave dinners in the metal wire trash can, some textbooks left open and marked with more sticky notes than you’ve ever seen. You’d only been here once before to drop off some food that he desperately messaged you about, stuck doing a project that he just couldn’t step away from.
“Pretend you don’t see the mess,” Childe pleads, handing a kid tablet to his brother but holding on before Teucer can take it. “What do you say to our nice friend here for buying you these snacks?”
“Thank you!”
“It was nothing,” you shyly smile, ruffling his hair. “I enjoyed meeting you.”
“Wait, what’s your name again?”
“It’s (Y/n).”
“Okay, (y/n)! Wait…(y/n)..as in…”
Teucer trails off and gives a look to his brother, one that spells curiosity and trouble, before he grabs your hand and pulls you into a corner. Any movement Childe makes to leave his desk chair is immediately squashed by Teucer’s disapproval, and the older man is left to helplessly worry when you’re told to squat down so secrets can be whispered into your ear.
“He talks about you a lot whenever he calls home,” and you want to laugh at Tecuer’s attempt to sound as scandalous as possible. “All the time! I think he likes you, like, like like.”
Oh. Oh dear.
“What makes you say that?” You whisper back, indulging both yourself and him, yet also internally snickering at how troubled Childe looks.
“Sometimes, he video calls mama, but we’ll all sit around and talk, and whenever he’s talking about how he saw you or something, he just looks...happy. Really happy.”
The surprise on your face does nothing to settle Childe’s nerves and he’s about to start wringing his hands together. Whatever Teucer was telling you couldn’t be good, probably embarrassing, like the one time he unceremoniously fell on his ass while ice skating over a frozen lake, or when he tried fitting fifteen marshmallows in his mouth and nearly choked on them when their mother caught them in the act, or--
“I think he just thinks of me as a good friend,” you try to inform Teucer, not letting yourself get any semblance of hope. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
“If you say so,” Teucer pouts. But then he stops whispering and bounds over back to his brother, grabbing the tablet before plopping down on the half-made bed.
“Look, I was overconfident and thought I could execute a perfect single loop on the ice, but there was a rock and I lost balance and--”
“I wasn’t being told any stories about you falling on ice, but do tell me more,” you chuckle and take some joy in watching the blush spread across his cheeks. It’s easy to tell that he’s mentally berating himself for jumping to conclusions.
“Well, first off, thanks for buying him all that, and my drink, too,” he sighs. “I spoil him enough as it is.”
“I can see why it’s hard not to,” you smile knowingly. “So is it just him here? Where’s the rest of your family?”
“Funny story, he somehow managed to convince my parents to let him come here on his own as his first ever plane flight, so I had to pick him up yesterday from the airport. He’s flying back with me tomorrow.”
“And the RA?” You ask with an eyebrow raised.
“Ah...well...what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him? Speaking of, what was Teucer whispering to you about?”
There’s a pensiveness that overtakes you when you look at Teucer again, who’s happily playing some sort of game and completely oblivious to the rest of his surroundings. You won’t, can’t, take his words to heart, and will take them with a grain of salt at most.
“Nothing important. Although I did learn something new...Ajax?”
“Say my name -- fuck, say it, please--”
“I guess cat’s out of the bag,” he chuckles and looks away, absolutely unaware of the flare of heat that swirls in your stomach from the fleeting vision just now. “I came up with other nicknames as a kid to seem cooler, and they just stuck with me. Plus, the business world is full of people who just want something from you, or just a transactional relationship. I’d rather not give my real name to them, if you know what I mean.”
“That’s fair,” you nod and lean to sit on the edge of his desk. A thought pops into your head and you turn the words over in your head like a washing machine on the spin setting, teeth gnawing on the flesh of your bottom lip. If Teucer hadn’t been in the room, he would’ve been this close to kissing you.
“But if it’s worth anything,” your voice slowly, softly starts, cautious and wary of your thoughts. “I think...Ajax suits you best.”
Curse fate. Curse the legendary Archons. Curse karma and deities and spirits because all he wants to do right now is stand and tower over you, trap you between himself and his desk so you can’t escape, take those pretty lips between his until they’re bruised and swollen because of him, hear you call out his name in the throes of pleasure so he can finally replace his fantasies with tangible memories. The unnatural, magnetic pull that draws him to you is unbearable now -- he feels like he’ll lose the last tendrils of his sanity if he doesn’t do something.
You can’t stop him from slowly reaching out to grab one of your hands, lifting it towards him until he’s close enough for you to feel his breath ghost over your knuckles. It sends a shiver down your spine and blood is pounding in your ears because you can’t begin to fathom what he’s thinking about while doing this, even more so when his lips make contact with your skin and your breath hitches, stuck in your throat as he languidly peeks at you beneath his eyelashes with a heated gaze, then lowly confessing, “My name sounds best when you say it.”
Good heavens.
It’s difficult to swallow and keep your composure, especially when Teucer yells out in glee over, what you can assume, beating something in his game, and Childe drops your hand. But his dilated pupils don’t retract in the slightest, refusing to let you look away so that maybe, you can understand what he’s trying to convey to you. He’s taking the first step because he’s terrible and can’t contain his self-control anymore, pushing the ball into your court, ready for you to either play or exit into the sidelines.
When you do blink, there’s a vision of your naked body wrapped around another, limbs clinging desperately to a sturdy and panting frame. Lips, much like the ones that have seared themselves onto your knuckles, are at your neck and sucking, biting, before moving to your ear and laying filthy words into them that drive you closer to the edge. It all happens so fast that you feel you’ve just experienced whiplash, yet also feeling secondhand embarrassment at how lewd some of these thoughts have been.
You can’t stay here any longer.
“I-I have to go,” spills off your tongue before you can really think about it. The way the haze shatters in his eyes is heartbreaking in its own way, but there’s no time for you to explain. Your brain is in overdrive and eager to run, run, run. It detects danger on all fronts, but you muster out a, “H-have a good break, come find me next semester, mmk?”
And you’re out the door with inhuman speed. When the door clicks shut, only then does Teucer look up from his screen and frown at the lack of your presence. “Where’d they go?”
Chlide doesn’t seem to hear him, and Teucer has never seen his big brother look so sad and confused before.
-
He holds on to that last tendril of hope, because mark his words, he will find you come January.
-
After about a week at home, enjoying the festive time with his family and mildly unconcerned about next year’s courses because that was a problem for another day, Childe has his first, crazy, nonsensical dream.
At least, that’s what he tells himself when he snaps awake and his body aches with exhaustion. Not only are his joints in agony, he also feels like he’s sporting unforeseen bruises, which makes absolutely no sense because he hasn’t done anything that would warrant them, no matter how much he and his brothers do some rough-housing. His night of sleep was all consumed by flashes and scenes of weapon fighting, lucid enough to remember feeling his arms flex and wield bows and double-headed polearms and being cognizant of all the enemies??? surrounding him. They ranged from deranged looking monsters, floating beings with soulless masks, and large humans in electricity-padded armor, to behemoth machines in the sky that could leave you within an inch of your life thanks to a drill for a hand?!
But what’s even worse is that you seem to have managed a deal with Morpheus himself and infiltrated his dreams. You were there, too, sometimes fighting with him, sometimes against him, much to his dismay, and while it was nice, he just didn’t get it. Why the friendliness and hostility? Why was there an anger that overtook him when looking directly at you, parrying your blade and sending harmful arcs of water toward your figure?
Why did he relish the fear in your eyes when he darted towards you with electricity cracking through the air?
There’s an overwhelming sensation now to grab his phone to text you and apologize -- for what, he can’t fathom and there are no words to accurately convey what he’s thinking. “Hey, sorry for wanting to kill you in my dream :( “? Or “Sorry for being a friend but then stabbing you in the back, but then being nice to you again”?
And the only thing that really made sense was the serenity and contentment that would course through his veins as the two of you danced around on ivory sandy beaches, picking up shiny blue starconches and taking down more weird creatures; the breathlessness when you would fall back into the water and re-emerge to reconfirm his beliefs that you were one of the most beautiful humans he’d ever laid his eyes on; the love--
Hold the fuck up.
He doesn’t love you. He likes you a whole lot and he’s severely and deathly attracted to you, but he doesn’t love you. Your existence has only been made known to him for about two months, and he didn’t really start talking to you until three weeks in. So no matter how comfortable he feels with you, no matter how much he wishes that you were sleeping peacefully next to him so his nights wouldn’t feel so lonely, it was too early, too hasty, to say that he loves you.
“I’ve been wondering, why didn’t you bring them home?” His mother asks him out of nowhere during breakfast, all to add to this extremely tumultuous roller-coaster morning he’s been having. All he wants to do is eat his bowl of milk and cereal, then potentially go back to sleep before fulfilling his promise to go with his siblings to the nearby skating rink. It takes everything in him to not choke on his spoon of grains.
“Agreed, didn’t you mention they didn’t really have any family to go back to and that the move to Liyue was semi-permanent?” His father chimes in, laying a quick peck on his wife’s temple. “It’s never fun to spend the holidays alone.”
“They would’ve felt like they were intruding,” Childe replies quietly, stabbing his bowl a few times before scooping up another spoonful of cereal to his mouth. “I know we’re friends, but we haven’t known each other for that long, and maybe they’d be uncomfortable because that’s a lot honestly…”
“You don’t know until you try,” his mother sings and pats him on the shoulder. “We do have a guest room after all.”
“For them and their twin?”
“And quite a comfortable futon with enough blankets.”
Childe smiles fondly at his parents’ kindness. He can only imagine what this winter break would’ve been like now -- you and your twin floating around, trying to help out with certain chores, sitting by the fireplace and watching TV, huddled up with mugs of hot chocolate, playing board games with everyone and engaging in all the shenanigans…
Laughing. Loving. Grinning. Basking.
Handing over one of his hoodies to you as a sick way of torturing yet blessing himself for seeing how lovely you look in his clothes, standing silently in the doorway as you attempt to help out with mealtimes next to his mother, watching you run around in the backyard and dodging his siblings’ snowballs while lodging a few of your own -- how wonderful it all would be.
But he squashes it down as quickly as possible, because you escaped his grasp. You ran away from his advances temporarily and even though you gave him permission to seek you out come the spring semester, he worries that you might take it back. Something will wake up inside of you to keep him out of your heart and your life, and he’s not confident enough at this point to believe there’s a good chance you will come spend the holidays with him and his family next year.
“Maybe next year, ma,” he sends her a hesitant, yet somewhat broken purse of his lips that’s just the least bit curved. It tells her everything he’s thinking, and the quick patting of his cheek lets him know she understands.
Half an hour later, Childe finds himself curled up on his side under the sheets, phone in hand as he stares at a blinking cursor. It shouldn’t be so hard to send a text to convey his holiday greetings, because that’s all it is -- part of him is becoming desperate and aching for some interaction with you, even if it’s just a text sent back for conventional social pleasantries. He’ll take it for now, right?
Before he can totally chicken out, his thumbs quickly type a, “Happy Holidays, (y/n) :)”, and it’s a little embarrassing how quickly after he hits the ‘send’ button that he tosses it over his shoulder so he’s not directly looking at it anymore. His heartbeat is too quick and he prays for no phantom vibrations or phantom sound notifications to avoid any disappointment of thinking he got a reply. It was a harmless text, yet he’s treating it like he just got assigned on a mission to go and murder someone for the first time. What will he do if you never text him back? Does that mean you really don’t want to talk to him? Are you dead in a ditch somewhere? Did you change numbers and not tell him? Did your twin get all the details and make the executive decision to block his number? Will he never get a chance to talk to you again, even if it’s about something in the Teyvat Mythology class next semester? Will you--
His shoulder screams in protest when he quickly flips himself over at the text notification sound, hands shakily unlocking his phone and opening up your conversation again. His heart rate significantly decreases, reaching back to its normal pace, especially as he reads the little words on his screen.
“Happy Holidays, Ajax ^^”
There is hope.
-
“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”
You’re huddled under the comforter of your twin’s bed, phone just peeking above the edge as you stare at it with a brightness in your eyes. For the most part, you had been sulking there, apart from meals and going back to your own room to sleep, and mentally berating yourself for the way you reacted to Childe the week before.
“He just texted me to say happy holidays,” shrugging to put on a facade of indifference. It’s stupid that you’re trying to hide your feelings from your twin of all people, who could pick apart and identify your emotions in a heartbeat. A roll of his eyes lets you know that you haven’t fooled him at all.
“So you think that whatever comment he made, which was very suggestive and indicative of clearly non-platonic feelings, was just something...friendly? Remind me again how you came to that conclusion?”
“I don’t know what I was thinking!” You whine, looking around to see if there was anything you could toss at him. “It’s just, with everything, all the dreams and stupid gut feelings, I just -- I don’t know, okay?? I can’t tell you enough how much I wish I had just kissed his stupid face and see where it goes from there.”
“Okay, gross, but don’t beat yourself up. Though...I do have a good idea on how to maybe get a good reaction out of him. You wanna go to the New Years’ celebration at Xiangling’s?”
“I think she’d threaten me with a knife if I didn’t. She wanted to go shopping at some point, too.”
“I’ll drop the overprotective brother act for one night, okay? One night, just to let this happen, and for your peace of mind.”
He does a fair amount of conspiring with Xiangling, a friend they met one time at a restaurant a couple years ago, even tagging along on the shopping trip. Together, the three of you find yourself a dress that Xiangling swears would make any person drool over you, including Childe, because at the end of the day, he was a person with the possibility of being attracted to you.
You think it’s a bit silly, but honestly, what do you have to lose at this point?
-
At 11:57PM on New Years’ Eve, Childe is standing outside in the freezing cold with his family, arms lifting up bags of sparklers and fireworks. They’ve driven out closer to the wild like they do every year, and everybody excitedly gets lighters ready, making sure someone’s got a clock out there that tells the seconds. As the younger kids open up the packaging and argue over which one to set off first, Childe’s phone vibrates in his coat pocket.
It’s 11:58PM when he manages to fish the device out and thank himself for buying gloves that are touch-screen friendly, excited to see that there are two texts from you, the latter reading, “Happy New Year!”. It doesn’t matter that you’re a little early, but he’s mainly intrigued by the fact a photo came before it. In his mind, you’re probably curled up with your twin brother, hopefully a selfie because wow, he misses your face.
He gets something else instead, and he is so glad that it’s dark outside and the electric lamp they have is too far away from him to draw any attention.
You have your arm around your brother’s waist and another girl’s that he doesn’t recognize, but it’s a full frontal view of your outfit, one that hugs your curves beautifully and shows more cleavage than he’s ever seen from you, sophisticated and elegant, yet fun and leaving enough to the imagination. There’s a bright smile coming from all of you, and you look like you’re at someone’s house or apartment with plenty of other people milling around in the back, but they don’t matter, not when all he can focus on is you.
Gorgeous, breathtaking, arousing, mind blowing, and gods, he wishes he could teleport to Liyue at this moment, find you, and kiss you right at midnight. Fuck the fact that he doesn’t exactly believe in superstitions like, “Kissing your significant other at midnight means you’ll last forever!” but he’s willing to take the chance with it on this night and the ones after, if he’s allowed. He tries not to think too much about pinning you against the wall and letting the world dissolve -- wants to be the one with the privilege to drag down that zipper and feel his bare skin on yours, and --
As Teucer starts yelling there’s only a minute left, he instinctively locks his phone and shoves it away out of anyone’s view. The last thing he needs is his family teasing him about ogling at your photo for a straight 50 seconds, wide-eyed and pupils on the verge of dilating, the visible breath leaving his mouth just a smudge more dense and prominent than usual.
The only thing he can do to distract himself from popping a boner in front of his parents is to join in on the countdown, making sure all the fireworks are set up correctly and grabbing a sparkler for himself. He waves it around with Tonia and promises to fulfill her wishes of taking one of those pictures right as she draws a pattern in the air. Their excitement is palpable and addicting, and even though the larger fireworks set off a few seconds after midnight hits, the nostalgia fills his lungs with fond memories and future wishes that they only continue this tradition for as long as possible, and hopefully, with you at his side.
-
When it’s 12:04AM, you get a picture message back of Childe bundled up in a black paletot coat, matching beanie and all, a gloved hand holding a sparkler and lips curved upwards, with a caption that says, “Happy New Year’s! See you soon :)”. You show it to Xiangling and your brother, both taking it as a win in their books, although the former does tipsily protest that there should be a better indicator of Childe’s brain breaking at how amazing you look right now. Maybe she’s prophetic, because another text chimes in and the words set you aflame, as well as suggestive whoops into your ears.
It’s a simple, “You look incredible btw”.
If you didn’t want to properly savor this moment, you would’ve found the nearest shot of the strongest liquor and tossed it back with abandon. But you want to remember the warmth in your veins that wasn’t from the alcohol or the heating, the fluttering of your heartbeat, the teeth-baring grin that you couldn’t fight off, the constant re-reading of those four words -- because they’re so different from everything you had been feeling before with him, the need for protection, the need to escape. Instead, you’d like to be in his arms right now and see for yourself how he’d look at you in this moment, and if he would take any action.
You want him to. So, so bad.
-
Childe spends his last week at home hating the fact that you’re just sitting around somewhere in Liyue, doing whatever you’re doing, probably doing some light preparation for your last semester of classes, and he’s not there to take advantage of all this free time and hang out with you. When classes start, it’ll be busy and hectic. You still have your thesis to finish and revise, and while that won’t eat up all your time, it’s still some that he’d want to fill in with his presence if he could. He debates whether or not he should ask for your schedule and compare it with his, maybe set up meetings every other day or propose that they all eat one meal together every day. Childe’s not quite sure of what you plan to do after graduation, as it hasn’t come up in conversation yet, but either way, he’s determined to stay in contact and make things work out. Long distance isn’t ideal, but with technology now, he’ll take it.
He feels a little bad for how excited he probably looked to be leaving home, uncharacteristic for the most part. His older siblings have already gone back to their respective homes, and it’s mainly Teucer and Tonia that worry and tear up when he starts packing his belongings. Tonia finds it unfair that Teucer got to meet you first and the latter makes sure to rub it into everyone’s faces. It’s hard for Childe to sleep on the plane because he’s thrumming with excitement, yet somehow even more nervous than usual when the plane hits small bouts of turbulence, and he doesn’t seem to relax until he sets foot back on campus.
He’s here. It’s January, and you’re physically closer to him than ever in the last two weeks.
-
“Found you.”
On the first day of classes, you’re sitting alone with some salad greens in a bowl, poking your fork at some scraps while you watch something on your phone, earbuds in and back towards the entrance of the canteen. It would explain the unannounced entrance of the very person who’s been at the forefront of nearly every thought in the last 96 hours, his fingers gingerly removing an earbud to surprise you as best as possible, and you startle in your seat.
Your heart kicks into overdrive when he hands you back your earbud and pulls out the seat next to you, setting his own plate of food down as he plops down in his chair. But then he says nothing afterwards, instead choosing to send you a cheeky grin before digging in. You’re left to slowly phase out of your state of shock, stuck between either running away or frantically texting your twin to come and save you even though he was off on a date with Keqing.
It’s not that you weren’t elated at the fact that Childe had done exactly as you told him last month, you just weren’t...prepared? It’s a shitty excuse and a cop out -- you’re mainly just having trouble with racking your brain to find the right words. What are you supposed to say? What should you do? Is it socially acceptable to lean over and kiss him on the cheek because that’s what you’d like to impulsively do at this very second??
“So you did,” you settle and steal a roasted potato wedge from his plate. It’s his turn to be taken by surprise, but he gets over it much quicker than you do. In fact, he spears two wedges and drops them in your bowl, smiling at you as best as he can with a mouth full of food. You give them your thanks before the silence settles in again.
“Did you have a good break?” He asks before his next bite.
“I did. You?”
“It was nice. My parents said I should’ve brought you and your twin home to spend the holidays with us. Can’t say it didn’t cross my mind before finals.”
Holy shit, what? “We couldn’t intrude like that, but that’s really nice of you guys.”
“That’s okay, there’s plenty of chances to visit later.”
You tilt your head and furrow your eyebrows. “But we graduate this semester?”
Childe challenges you with one of his own eyebrows raised. “And? Are we never gonna see each other again?”
Honestly, the possibility had occurred to you. You aren’t entirely sure of Childe’s plans after graduation, and if that meant he was staying in Liyue or going back to Snezhnaya or even moving to Inazuma or Mondstat. While people preach on and on about how lasting friendships and relationships are often formed during college, you believe it’s more common to slowly drift apart as life gets busier. And if Childe moved away, or if you did, it’d be hard to consistently keep in touch with 10 hour workdays.
The thought saddens you, regardless. You like him so much and you’re glad that he was even in your life to begin with, because as unbelievable as it sounds, seeing him was almost akin to the feeling of coming home. Amidst all your nerves, your confusion, your spiraling thoughts, something deeply sated in your heart was a comfort that you found with very few people in your life whenever in his presence.
The thought of leaving and never looking back somehow doesn’t feel new -- it’s bittersweet, but the air in your lungs feels like it’s surrendered to something, like it was to be expected.
“You can’t just leave without telling me--”
“It was last minute! I had no choice!”
“You could’ve written up a message, anything--”
“Can you imagine the position you’d be in if the message got intercepted? I wouldn’t have been safe, she’d make you come after me--”
“As if you’d be any safer in Inazuma of all places! That’s the one place I can’t easily get to!”
“I can take care of myself, Childe, I don’t need you to protect me.”
“This isn’t about me protecting you, (y/n) and -- stop walking, will you?!”
“Then what is this about?” You spin on your wheel with eyes aflame. “Why are you so angry with me? It’s normal for me to disappear for weeks at a time, why was this any different?”
“Because you could’ve died!” He yells back in despair, chest heaving. Your silence is his cue to continue. “You could’ve died and I wouldn’t have known until much later. You could’ve died and all I’d ever think about were the things I never got to say to you, and how I wish I had treated every day with you like it was our last.”
It isn’t hard to tell that you’re stunned and at a complete loss for words. Childe often hides behind facades of charm and wit, and only when he is truly weak does he choose to be this vulnerable, baring his heart for you to see.
“I only have two nightmares in this world. One, my family being harmed in any way. Two, reading in a report or hearing from an agent that you’ve been captured and killed.”
“I like to think that we will.”
His hand reaches out to lay on top of yours, giving it a quick squeeze. “Well, let’s make the most of it this semester.”
Conversation afterwards is easy, filling each other in on holiday activities. Childe speaks extensively about several family traditions and you listen with rapt attention, basking in how fond he is of all of them. Even as you both bring your dishes to the return belt and leave, he immediately offers to drive you both somewhere to get boba, noticing your reluctance to part ways. But boba shops have to close, and you both have class tomorrow morning, and you’re both finding any excuse to keep talking, even if that means sitting outside your dorm building on a nearby bench.
You eventually bid each other good night’s and see you later’s, him refusing to walk away until the heavy door locks shut behind you after you swipe your student ID, and you looking over your shoulder to watch his figure disappear into the night.
-
True to his intentions, Childe makes great efforts to meet you at least once a day, and he can’t get enough. Each parting from you tugs and tugs at his heart, as if there’s a high possibility you’ll never want to see him again the next day, and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Your twin and Childe get along well for the most part, and he even meets Xiangling on one of her shifts at her regular restaurant, who sends you a salacious wink and an eyebrow wiggle over his shoulder that nearly causes you to burst from embarrassment.
February rolls over without a hitch, even if you’re a little disappointed that Childe didn’t make a move for Valentine’s Day. Granted, you two still spent time with each other and he’s so darn physically affectionate and he bought you a carnation from the event his dorm held, but you wish you had the guts to fess up and just kiss the man.
It’ll happen some day, you tell yourself. You have time before graduation.
Two days before the end of the Friday that would signal the start of Spring Break, you wake up in a cold sweat, mind reeling and head splitting, heart so so heavy, as a connection is made between your present and your dreams. Not long after, there are tears streaming silently down your face and into your open palms placed in your lap, and you sit in shock as everything comes back to you. Memories are such treasured burdens, you realize.
For the most part, you had gotten used to the dreams, choosing to take charge of what you know and feel now with Childe over succumbing to some strange neurological premonitions. Especially in your dreams when many people’s faces were blurred over and hazy, and the only things you could rely on were voices, touch, and other physical features. You thought that maybe your mind was just playing tricks by transposing Childe’s hair onto a body that was also strikingly similar to his, but for the first time last night, you could see each defining feature on his face as clear as day.
The sight of his figure arching gracefully over yours, the water arrows that appeared out of thin air, the back that protected you from some military men, the voice that said, “Hey girlie, hold still.”
And that was when you had snapped awake to your current state.
Past the initial shock and uncontrollable tears, you soon bent over as sobs wracked your chest, overwhelmed by all the emotions and the pain the memories brought you; losing your twin, finding him to only be left with even more questions after roaming for decades and decades, meeting all your loved ones throughout Mondstat and Liyue, fighting yet falling so hard for Childe, feeling the fear when facing his Foul Legacy form, hating him for Osial, loving him, breathing heavily as the tip of your blade was pointed at his neck and his own just centimeters from yours, tendrils of water inching closer and closer--
Everything makes sense now.
When you meet your twin for lunch at the cafeteria, you pay no mind to the fact that you’re in public and hug him harder than you ever have in years. He’s already a little alarmed that your eyes seem swollen and you look like finals came two months early, but when he asks what’s wrong, all he gets is a shake of your head and nothing more than, “Just a bad nightmare. I love you, y’know that?”
“I love you too?”
“Don’t sound so unsure, now let’s go and get in line before they run out of Jueyun Chili Chicken.”
Even when you meet Xiao later in the early evening to talk about your thesis, you find yourself holding back more tears just two minutes in, reminded of his past and his own life, and he’s moderately concerned, hesitantly handing you a tissue from the corner of his desk when a stray tear escapes. “Is everything okay?” He hesitantly asks, really hoping that he didn’t do anything to make you cry.
“No,” you almost wail and sniffle while dabbing at your eyes. “Sorry, it’s just been a really long day.”
Xiao’s inquisitive gaze softens, remembering how hard undergraduate life could be sometimes. Graduate school was a whole other level, but that shouldn’t discount your own personal difficulties. Plus, in all of the year and a half that he’s known you, you’ve never broken down like this before in front of him.
“You work really hard, Xiao,” you continue, and he’s not sure where this is coming from. “You’re always so helpful and willing to work with me and answer my stupid questions and like-- you practice self-care, right?”
Xiao nods as a white lie, but it seems to comfort you. Maybe too much because you pull him in for a quick and unexpected hug, and you both decide to reschedule this meeting for tomorrow.
As per usual, you wait for Childe to join you for dinner since you finished up earlier than expected. It gives you more time to think about everyone from Mondstat -- Kaeya, Diluc, Lisa, Jean, Amber...funny to think that some things never changed as you compared their past version to the ones you know now.
“Mora for your thoughts?”
There’s a peace that warms your heart when you hear Childe’s voice, one that forces you to smile at him as he sits down next to you. “Just thinking about old friends.”
“I have to admit, I’ll be a little jealous if it’s another guy taking up more space than me in that pretty brain of yours.”
What a flirt. This man isn’t good for your heart. “Who said you had any to begin with?”
He dramatically places a hand over his heart. “You wound me, (y/n). How will I ever recover?”
“You’re ridiculous,” you snicker. Childe reaches over to pinch your cheek and you bat at him in protest. Easily, he grabs one of your hands and simply pulls you towards the food lines, knowing that you’ll stop fighting back soon.
Part of it feels strange now to feel and see his hands with no leather gloves on.
“Childe,” you start halfway through your meal, continuing after he hums back in reply. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”
He freezes briefly, but recovers so quickly that if you hadn’t been watching so closely, you wouldn’t have noticed. “I think it’s neat, the idea of having past lives. Why do you ask?”
What he really wants to ask is if you’ve been having those dreams, too; if he’s starring in your nights like you have been in his.
“Just a thought, especially since you’re taking Teyvat Myth now, too.”
“Do you...do you think if there was a past life, that we knew each other?”
There’s something about the look of content on your face before you meet his gaze -- he thinks that you know more than you’re letting on but you’re holding back for some reason. He wants to know what’s going through your brain right now, why the fondness in your eyes sends a jolt through him like he’s been searching for it all his life, if you know anything about this magnetic pull between you two.
“I like to think that we knew each other well.”
-
Even though the first day of your returned memories was somewhat eventful, you couldn’t help but feel yourself wanting to pull back from Childe -- at least, until you can successfully compartmentalize which emotions belonged to you past self and which ones belonged to your current mindset. You didn’t quite agree with his duties and his affiliation with the Fatui back then, even if he had his reasons that did make sense, to some degree.
The killing, the threatening, so intent on stealing Rex Lapis’s Gnosis in the name of the Tsaritsa, summoning Osial as a mean to an end -- and you definitely can’t forget how stubborn he was in not listening to your protests, so caught up in his brain that you had betrayed him and sent you plummeting to a near-death experience despite his earlier promise of no intention of killing you specifically.
Everything had been toeing a faint, thin line with Childe then. Undeniable chemistry and tension, guarding yourself for yours and Paimon’s safety, slashing at Fatui agents, whispering out pleas and affirmations of “I’m yours” while riding him, sometimes having to sneak out in the mornings…
The only thing you don’t remember is how everything ends -- maybe it’ll come back to you eventually, but for now, you think you’re okay not knowing.
If Childe still doesn’t remember anything from back then, you think it’d be unfair to spend time with him in all your conflicting emotions, even when it’s spring break, where you have so much more hours in the day to be with each other than normal. Fun plans around Liyue had been made, like a two-day one-night trip to Yaoguang Shoal, and you’re this close to cancelling on him.
But he had been looking forward to it so much, even made most of the preparations for it. Who are you to rob that joy from him when it was you who couldn’t figure out your own shit? Are you self-destructing?
Perhaps.
Before you know it, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his car, staring out the window at the scenery. Somehow, it pleased you to see that the nature of Liyue had been carefully preserved over the many centuries despite its development into the modern age. You get lost in picking apart the differences between then and now that you don’t notice how quiet you’ve fallen and Childe looks over worriedly when you show no reaction to your favorite songs playing on the stereo.
Even when he calls your name once, twice, nothing gives as you clearly have tuned everything out. So he leaves you be until there’s about half an hour left on the drive, unable to hold back and succumbing to reach over for your hand. You startle so strongly that he almost feels bad for having done it unannounced. But what’s even more disturbing is that this isn’t really the first time.
You’ve been talking to him less, often sitting quietly and staring off into another world that he can’t seem to reach. His texts are answered less frequently and with less wit and enthusiasm, so much so that he just appreciates you still show up to see him. Each time he asks if you’re okay, you always affirm that you are. He’s had a hard time believing you, but Childe believes you’ll tell him when you’re ready, surely.
It’s a little ironic yet fateful that Childe planned to bring you here, of all places. In the past, you had spent many days and nights running around in the sand with him, fighting slimes and hilichurls and collecting starconches for him. You remember laying on a large towel next to him as you both looked up into the sky, pointing out stars and constellations while sharing endless kisses away from prying, spying eyes.
“I’m sorry, I must’ve zoned out,” you sincerely apologize.
“It’s okay, I just wanna make sure you relax while we’re here. This is supposed to be a vacation.”
“You’re right,” you agree and squeeze his hand. “Let’s make the most of it before we become adults who are too busy to have fun like this again.”
And you do. Childe rented a small beach cabin (rich boys) closer to one end of the shoreline, just big enough with two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen with a dining table. You help him bring in your bags and some groceries bought the night before, setting them down quickly so you can peer out the window again to take in the view. Childe picked a good time, too. Although it’d be a little chilly at night, the day was still warm and mainly overcast with clouds.
“What do you say we change into our swimsuits and head down to the water?”
“Sure.”
Childe hadn’t really been expecting for you to step out in a large, casual tee and gym shorts, one shoulder exposed. He might have been hoping to see a little more skin, but his mother didn’t raise a chauvinistic pervert for a son.
The light in your eyes as you both approach the water is everything he had been missing the last few days, your excitement and joy contagious. As soon as you place everything down on the sand, you kick off your flip flops and leave him behind to step into the water, giggling at feeling the waves crash over your ankles and bring sand between your toes. Childe approaches you from behind and starts smearing sunblock on the back of your neck, to which you just grin beautifully at him in thanks and he has to fight off the desire to kiss you right then and there.
You’re too caught up in embracing the ocean afterwards to feel the shrinking distance between you two, mistaking his warmth for the general spring air. It isn’t until he’s done with your shoulders that he hands you the bottle to leave you to do the rest of your body, and when you turn to thank him, he’s much closer than you remember. His eyes are gentle, holding your gaze and almost daring you to look away first.
But if there’s one thing you can place without a shred of doubt, it is the unmistakable look of love, because you had seen it many, many times before without knowing until later what it meant.
How so incredibly lucky you were to have Childe back in your life now, loving you all the same, and with no life-threatening barriers. Fate or the Archons have given you a second chance, and you’d be damned to take it for granted.
Childe welcomes your lips against his, wasting no time to bring you into his arms so you’re pressed against him as much as possible. He can’t care for the overt public display of affection because this is everything he’s wanted for months now, waiting patiently for you to give him permission to make you his. Your lips are incredibly soft and pliant against his as you first kiss him patiently, then applying more force and desperation to taste more of him. He mirrors you, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other on your neck with a thumb extended to your jawline, teeth moving to nip at your bottom lip. It’s dangerous, the way you smile against his lips, and when he sinks his teeth in deeper before pulling back, your quiet mewl nearly drives him over the edge.
But you’re in public, and this was an amazing first kiss. You two have a beach to enjoy and a fun night planned, and now that he doesn’t have to hold back on his affections, it’ll be even better.
His lips part from yours regretfully, his eyes languidly opening to meet yours. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a blue starconch in the sand and freezes.
It’s not that he’s never seen one before, but something clicks. You. The shore. Starconches. Starry nights. His dreams. Monsters. Gods. Fighting. So much fighting. Training. His family. Dragons. You. Falling. You falling. You fighting him. Yelling. Kissing. Loving. Chasing. Him chasing you before you disappear at a teleport waypoint that somehow you only can operate. The abyss. Your twin.
Oh, Archons.
“ -ou okay, Ajax? Ajax?”
He snaps to look at you again. How does he go about this? How does he ask?
“(Y/n)...have you ever heard of the Fatui Harbingers?”
He has to admit that it’s a bit amazing to be able to identify all the emotions that cross your complexion, from curiosity to realization to conflicted. You’re actively trying to piece everything together without revealing too much on the off-chance that you’re wrong, that Childe hasn’t regained his memories and is just asking about something from class randomly and completely out of the blue.
Wait.
“You haven’t reached that material yet in class,” you whisper, heart in your throat at the realization. Could it really be…
“I was once Tartaglia, eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui, who possessed a Delusion and used my Foul Legacy Transformation with you several times,” he murmurs back, tucking a stray tendril behind your ear. “Is it too late to apologize again for summoning an ancient god and letting you fall about five floors with no warning?”
He should’ve been prepared for you wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a tight embrace. “No, never, but I spent weeks after kicking your ass so you’ve been long forgiven.”
Childe burrows his face into your neck, breathing in your scent and basking in this moment. There was so much to talk about, but you two arguably had more time in the world than ever with nothing holding you back. There was no impending war looming over, no one on the run, no opposing forces. His silent wish for a different life with you seems to have been answered finally. If running into you had been the event to set everything in motion, he only wishes he’d done so earlier.
All that matters now is you’re here together in this plane of existence, given a chance to love again, and experience everything you couldn't before.
As written in the stars, take my soul for it is forever yours.
fin
553 notes · View notes
spinster-sisters · 3 years
Text
Pushover. psh jwy
TW: exhibitionism, fingering, oral female receiving, dirty talk, praise, degradation, grinding, slight bondage, good ole fashion fucking, cock stepping apparently, daddy kink, mutual masturbation, probably other stuff that have escaped my mind cuz writing this felt like a fever dream. So wooyoung is involved pretty heavily involved in this, like many of the kinks listed are done on him and by him so there you have it. Also yeosang is directly involved for like 4 seconds, also please just assume any tags mentioned in the first part that are not listed here may also pop up.
Part 1 (this is a direct continuation of this timestamp)
WC: 5k words of pure smut.
-
You were hardly aware of your surroundings. Nestled into Seonghwa’s lap, your head fell back onto his shoulder and your eyes screwed shut. You could hear the garbled sound of your boyfriend’s voice rumbling next to your ear, but the slim fingers working in and out of your wet hole stopped any thoughts from entering your brain. Your panties had been pushed aside only enough for him to slip two fingers inside you but you were already keening.
Seonghwa knew how to work you, knew how to make you fall apart and he would usually take his time doing it. Normally you had to put in the work for this kind of treatment, you would have to be especially good and listen to him well during the day, a single misstep or disobeyed words would leave you hopeless, but you had gotten very good at behaving. Why would you when he treated you so well? Not to mention that Seonghwa had something to prove today, without an exchange of words you already knew to be on your best behavior today.
“So what do you say, Woo? It’s your call.” Seonghwa spoke with a cool calm tone. His free hand tapped your side and you knew he wanted your attention for the next part, so your head lifted up and you pulled your eyes open to face the room.
Seven pairs of eyes were glued to you and your boyfriend, all in various stages of embarrassment to downright turned on, but the ones that caught your attention were none other than Wooyoung’s. Because it seemed for the first time the man was at a complete loss for words. His mouth was flapping open and closed like a fish out of water but his complexion was suddenly very pink. He was watching with careful eyes the way Seonghwa’s fingers slipped in and out of you, each time pulling more wetness from you, where it pooled on Seonghwa’s pant leg and made his fingers glisten.
“Are you going to answer me? I don’t appreciate being ignored Wooyoung.” Seonghwa’s voice sounded again, this time with a much steelier tone. Snapped out of his reverie Wooyoung’s eyes flung up to your boyfriend's hard gaze and he made a confused noise. Wooyoung’s body twitched at Seonghwa’s disappointed sigh and somewhere in the room, you heard Mingi muttering to Jongho.
“I asked you a question Woo, do you have an answer?”
Wooyoung’s eyes flitted around the room, desperately looking for aid in the faces of his friends, but none came. They seemed perfectly content to watch the loud boy struggle for words. Eventually, he looked to you for help with pleading eyes, you weren’t quite sure what he wanted you to do but before you could even ponder Seonghwa slipped another finger inside you, stretching you open, even more, making your lips fall open with a pleased sigh and your brain clouded over again.
“Don’t look to her for help, she listened well and is getting her reward. You can’t possibly expect her to risk that to help you. Now, I don’t like repeating myself Woo, so I’m only going to do it once. Do you still think I’m too much of a pushover?” Seonghwa spoke with icy venom.
Wooyoung frantically shook his head ‘no.’ You almost felt sorry for the man when your boyfriend's face turned to stone. Wooyoung noticed it too, and in a moment of frantic panic he realized his mistake and pushed out the word “No!” With perhaps a little too much force. Your head turned to look at Seonghwa’s sharp side profile. He looked very pleased with himself. Rightfully so, taking charge was his forte in times like these.
Seonghwa returned your gaze with a smirk. Using his free hand he gently took your chin between his fingers and pulled you in for a deep kiss. The hand working inside you slowed it is ministrations, but you knew better than to voice your disapproval. Seonghwa’s lips effortlessly urged yours to open and his long tongue slipped between them. Seonghwa’s kisses were always so, strong? He put so much force into every press of the lips and every swipe of the tongue head spun with excitement. Your eyes feel shut almost immediately, moving your mouth gently along with your boyfriend.
It seems you got a little too lost in the feeling of the kiss and the gentle push of the hand working inside you because you were slowly becoming more and more vocal with each passing second. What started as soft groans were now developing into full moans that were only slightly muffled by Seonghwa’s lips. But a sudden squeal from across the room drew both of your attention. Seonghwa broke the kiss to peer across the room at none other than Wooyoung, whose pink complexion had turned bright red since you last looked at him. Also notable, was the way he kept clenching his thighs together and making small grinding motions.
He wasn’t completely alone in this, one quick glass around the room showed you that all of your friends seemed to be enjoying the scene before them, many of them sporting hard dicks of their own (San and Hongjoong especially had taken to slowly palming themselves over their jeans) but none seemed to be quite as affected as the boy directly across for you.
“Getting impatient?” Seonghwa asked with disinterest.
“No,” Wooyoung replied, trying to match your boyfriend's tone but failing miserably.
“We’ve barely started and you're already rutting against the floor like a dog, are you sure this isn’t too much for you?” Seonghwa asked in a tone of mock concern. Seonghwa pulled his fingers from you to instead gently circle your clit with care. You. Squirmed again. The truth was you were remarkably close to the cumming. A fact Seonghwa probably knew. You tried to reassure yourself, knowing that in the current circumstances a high reward was coming your way soon, but the sudden emptiness was disappointing none the less and while it showed on your face you dared not make a sound.
“Get on with it then,”
You winced. Knowing the kind of reaction Wooyoung’s words would bring. Seonghwa’s face hardened. Much darker than you had seen in a long time. One quick glance to the side told you that the younger boy's word had left Seonghwa seething. He stayed silent for a moment, but not inactive. His fingers dancing across your folds seemed to gain a sense of purpose, and with sudden and unexpected vigor, Seonghwa worked them in a way that made your legs twitch and your hole clench around nothing.
“Can I, please?” You asked aloud, though it was clear who you were talking to.
“Go ahead little one,” Seonghwa encouraged with a surprisingly gentle tone.
A loud whine came from your open mouth and the room watched with rapt attention as your body came undone. Even Seonghwa pulled eyes dangerous gaze away from Wooyoung who had been gulping with fear, to watch with soft eyes at the way his pretty girl fell apart for him.
It must have been a truly lewd sight. Your body spasming freely as your glistening core twitched, not to mention your chest covered with marks given to you by the very man who caused your pleasure. The helpless cries were only the cherry on top to the room of onlookers, Yunho had even let out a low groan of his own. But the man of the hour, as it seemed, Wooyoung had returned to his stunned silence, watching the way Seonghwa continued to toy with your clit, prolonging your orgasm as much as possible for the room to enjoy.
Seonghwa turned back to Wooyoung and stopped his work on you only after the majority of your orgasm had passed, leaving you breathless and panting. You felt Seonghwa’s hard cock digging into your ass, but Seonghwa had other matters to attend to first. He fixed Wooyoung with a hard gaze and gave a simple command.
“Come here,”
Wooyoung froze at his words, unable to look away. Yeosang, who had been enjoying Wooyoung’s torment far more than the others urged his forward with a small push on the shoulder, which snapped him out of his trance, and after a moment he slowly crawled across the floor to sit on the floor before you.
Everyone in the room seemed shocked by this turn of events, yourself included, but one quick look from Seonghwa’s encouraging smile settled your nerves. Besides, your brain way still basking in the aftermath of your orgasm so this all seemed much more exciting than you would admit out loud.
With a pinch on your outer thigh from Seonghwa your legs instinctively opened wider, giving Wooyoung an eye full of your now slightly swollen core. Seonghwa reached between your legs and spread your pussy open, exposing your still pulsing hole to the man on the floor, and with one simple sentence, changed the tone of the night for good.
“Get on with it then,”
“What?” Wooyoung sputtered helplessly, looking up to your boyfriend with wide eyes.
“Your attitude has done nothing but remind me how wonderfully obedient my pretty girl is,” as Seonghwa spoke you subconsciously cuddled further into his chest, his eyes flicked to you and he gave you a reassuring squeeze on your neck with his free hand, “and I think she should be rewarded before I deal with that mouth of yours.”
Wooyoung’s eyes shown with realization as it finally dawned on him exactly what his teasing had gotten him into. His eyes flicked around to the faces of his friends only to see them waiting expectantly for Wooyoung to do as he was told. He looked back to Seonghwa and opened his mouth, to apologize, to beg, to l say anything at all, but no words came out. Seonghwa frowned at him.
“Don’t you think she’s been good?” Your boyfriend asked accusatorily.
“Yes, she has-“ Wooyoung started.
Seonghwa’s finger slipped down to drag through your folds and collect the wetness gathering there. You were still incredibly sensitive from your orgasm and the movement made you shudder a gasp. Wooyoung’s eyes followed the action with a downright hungry gaze but something was still restraining him from acting. Seonghwa held out his wet finger in front of the boy's face, and Wooyoung couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight.
“I’m not going to say it again. Get. On. With. It.”
It seemed whatever defiant streak had been holding the boy back had finally broken. Wooyoung’s head snapped forward and took the Seonghwa’s long shining finger into his mouth and sucked it clean. A loud whinny groan came from the boy instantaneously and after a moment his lips pulled away with a loud pop. With his new resolve Wooyoung’s eyes zeroed in on your face blushing face and with an incredibly what look his eyes snapped back down and he dove in.
An unapologetic scream ripped from your open mouth. The first sensation you felt was pain, you have only fully come down from your high a minute or so prior and your clit was still incredibly sensitive as Wooyoung attached his lips to your cunt and rolled his tongue over the bud repeatedly. But the longer he kept at it, sliding his tongue over the length of your core in a wide lick, the more the full pain turned into biting pleasure.
“You look so pretty like this baby,” Seonghwa muttered encouragingly in your ear, but still loud enough for the room to hear over the obscene slurping noises Wooyoung was now making as he sucked at your entrance. “Doesn't that feel nice?”
Depends on how you define nice really, it felt like all too much all at once, it hurt yes, but every swipe of the younger boy's tongue brought more wetness out of you and made your body twitch and writhe with the slightest movement. Honestly, you should have been used to this by now. Seonghwa loved to do this to you, overstimulate you for hours till there were tears in your eyes and you had lost control of your limbs, he thought you looked best when completely at his mercy. But this was only your first orgasm, you had been trained well enough to keep some of your composure despite the abuse your aching core was suffering at Wooyoung’s hand. You turned to Seonghwa’s satisfied face, and gave him a weak smile,
“Feels good, Daddy.”
Somewhere in the room someone let out an “oh fuck,” and Wooyoung groaned particularly loud directly into your pussy and the vibrations traveled up your spine like lightning. Your mouth fell open as you looked into Seonghwa’s eyes with a dazed look. Your hips arched off your boyfriend's lap. It was Wooyoung who made the first move to push your hips back, eager to have his mouth back on you, but he had no sooner touched you than Seonghwa slapped his hand away from your body.
Wooyoung pulled away from your core, his chin dripping with your juices and his eyes shining with confusion. Seonghwa took your hips into both of his hands and pulled you back, flush against his lap and still hard cock, he then fixed Wooyoung with a glare.
“Your not here to touch. Make my baby girl cum in the next five minutes and I might just go easier on you.” Seonghwa spat.
Wooyoung blinked at him, before giving him the sweetest smile he could muster.
“Yes, Daddy”
This took you and the rest of the room by surprise. But you didn’t have time to ponder before Seonghwa took the boy by the roots of his hair and pulled his face forward into your swollen cunt.
“Times ticking, little boy, better get a move on.”
And so he did. Wooyoung ate you out with a burning passion you had never quite experienced. Seonghwa preferred to take hours going down on you, purposely going a slow and steady as possible to build up extremely powerful orgasms that would last for minutes. This was entirely different. Wooyoung was being incredibly messy. Wet sounds echoed around the room and into your ears, he seemed to be trying to eat you alive with the way his mouth moved desperately around your folds. His tongue had made its return to your clit. He sucked the bud between his lips and rolled it around with his tongue in such quick tight little circles your brain spun and if it weren’t for the iron grip one of your boyfriend's hand still had on your hip your sure you would flailing around like a madwoman. You certainly sounded like one with the way endless cries, whines, and groan spilled from your lips in increasing volume. Wooyoung had a clear goal, Seonghwa had given him five minutes? He would do it in three.
You were nearing the end of your rope, your entire lower half seemed to be vibrating with numb pain and pleasure it was almost unbearable but somehow nowhere near enough.
“Daddy? Can I cum please?” You spoke in a shattered voice. Seonghwa, who still had his hand twisted in Wooyoung’s hair looked down expectantly at the boy, who was already peering up at your face with wide eyes. Both you and your boyfriend watched as Wooyoung slid his tongue into your hole and began fucking it in and out of you in time with your breathy gasps. Your head flipped frantically to search your boyfriend's eyes, begging for permission.
“Please, please, Daddy, I can’t hold-“
“You can cum baby,”
And that was all it took. You practically screamed. Your eyes went white as your head fell back again. Having lost all control of the movement of your limbs Seonghwa took his hand from Wooyoung’s head and used both to hold your spasming body close against his. Your brain had gone fuzzy and the only two things registering in your brain were the gentle praise being whispered into your ear and the beat of Seonghwa’s heart against your back from how closely he held you.
Your recovery to much longer this time. To be perfectly honest, in your whacked-out brain it could have been hours.
Slowly you came back to reality. When you opened your eyes the first thing you saw was Yunho from across the room, he gave you a reassuring smile but it was offset slightly by the way his hand was down his pants, nevertheless you smiled back. You laid limp and spent across Seonghwa’s lap. His arm had come around your waist to hold you up and his other hand was rubbing soft circles on your inner thigh. He gave a gentle kiss to your temple as you stirred, leaving butterflies in your stomach. Shifting slightly so you sat sideways on his lap you curled yourself into him with an affectionate purr.
And then there way Wooyoung. He sat on his knees with his hands on his thighs looking up at you like he won a prize.
“You taste good,” he said with an almost happy hour lucky smile.
“Did you like it, Woo?” San asked from behind him, San was sporting his own wide eyes and looking overly jealous about the whole thing.
Wooyoung spun around to look at his best friend and spoke enthusiastically,
“She tastes so good Sannie, really, it was so much fun!”
“Don’t get too excited Woo, we’re not done yet.” Seonghwa chided. Wooyoung whirled around to face him.
“Didn’t I do good?” He asked with a confused look.
You nodded absently as Seonghwa spoke.
“Yea you did good, but that doesn’t excuse your attitude earlier. You still need to learn some respect. I’m sure our friends would agree all this attention you’ve been getting has gone to your head.”
Yeosang and Jongho snickered in agreement. Wooyoung turned to shoot them a glare but it was cut short by a strangled moan. Seonghwa had pressed the heel of his shoe onto the swollen tip of Wooyoung’s cock through his jeans. And to your surprise, Wooyoung’s hips bucked up into the sole of his shoe. Your brain short-circuited.
Wooyoung started to move away but Seonghwa took hold of his hair again and kept him in place.
“What’s the matter woo? Embarrassed? Embarrassed you almost got yourself off on Daddy’s shoe?”
Wooyoung shook his head no, but Seonghwa only dug his heel in harder and Wooyoung couldn’t help but buck against his shoe again with a pained moan. Your legs were clenching together as another pool of arousal pooled between them. Here’s the deal, you had always admired Seonghwa’s incredible level-headedness. In fact, it was one of the best qualities you could ask for in a lover. But for months now, you had been hoping for the chance that Seonghwa would show his true colors to the rest of the group. The idea had been a fantasy of yours for such a long time, but seeing it, here and now, and like this? Not to mention you had always wondered just how far Seonghwa would go if someone disobeyed him, perhaps you didn’t have the guts to do it yourself, especially since being good reaped such high reward, but this was far more than you ever imagined. You doubt whether you had ever been this turned on in your life.
Seonghwa noticed your reaction, of course, he could always read you like a book. He glanced around the room to the hungry faces of your friends till he found who he was looking for and locked eyes with them with a smirk.
“Yeosang, think you could help me for a moment?”
Yeosang returned the smirk and the room watched with bated breath as he made his way over to the scene, eyes zeroed in on Wooyoung’s mortified face.
“Who knew Wooyoung was such a pain slut.”
Yeosang’s voice was as cool as a cucumber, and if it wasn’t for the bulge in his pants you would think he was talking about the weather. Seonghwa dug his heel into Woo one last time before spinning the boy around to face Yeosang by yanking the hair in his grip. Wooyoung was whining pathetically at it all. Your hand was placed on Seonghwa’s hard chest. He glanced at you with a promising smile at your desperate face.
“Not had your fill yet, little one?” He asked you with a smirk. You shook your head ‘no.’
“No Daddy, you make me so needy.” You reply with wide eyes and a slight whine, grasping the fabric of his shirt in a tight fist. He grinned at you before turning to Yeosang again.
“I think it’s finally time to fuck my baby girl, but I don’t think Wooyoung has learned his lesson yet,” as he spoke Seonghwa began fiddling with his belt, pulling through the loops of his jeans. Handing the belt to Yeosang he continued, “Do me a favor, tie him up, make him desperate, don’t stop till he begs.”
Yeosang accepted the challenge with a smile. Seonghwa’s attention was finally on you and you alone. With his help as your body was still weak, he adjusted you to straddle his hips facing him. You looked a mess surely, there was no way you looked anything but obscene and sweaty, But Seonghwa took in your face with a smile.
“You look so pretty like this baby girl” As he spoke, Seonghwa’s hand came to your ass and kneaded it in his palms. The room could no longer see your face, but they could most definitely see this, and likely your still leaking cunt.
Directly behind you, you could hear rummaging noises and the distinct clink of a belt being done up. A quick glance over your shoulder showed you that Wooyoung was now facing the room, with his hands bound behind his back and a pillow between his legs, Yeosang sat to his side clearly satisfied with his work. After taking it in you turned back to Seonghwa who looked pleased himself.
“You’ve been so good baby, want Daddy to fuck you? Nice and deep how you like it?” You practically purred at his words. It’s true so far you had enjoyed yourself, but there was nothing quite like when Seonghwa filled you up with his cock.
“Please fuck me Daddy” you whispered, leaning in close to him with your biggest doll eyes, and your hands gripping his shoulder. Seonghwa smiled at you, content with your answer.
A moment later he had freed his duck from his jeans and was stroking it leisurely. Your mouth watered. Oh, the way he could make you feel, how many times he had made you cum. As Seonghwa sunk into the couch, taking a moment to watch you squirm on his lap he truly looked too powerful. The calm in the sea of chaos that had unfolded that night, it was unfair how he made your heart skip a beat. With one quick glance over your shoulder, he called out to Wooyoung one last time.
“I’d start doing as you were told Wooyoung, wouldn’t want the others to get impatient with you,”
At that, you heard the first grunt of Wooyoung grinding helplessly on the pillow, then whimpering at how the surface was too soft to gain any friction over his pants. The poor boy was at his wit's end.
But your attention was drawn back to the man in front of you before you had time to feel sorry for Wooyoung. One of his fingers had slipped inside you once again to test the waters. You flinched at the intrusion, your body was utterly spent, and the overstimulation would be hell, but as God, as your witness, you were going to take your boyfriend's cock tonight.
“Are you sure your ok baby? Wouldn’t want to push you too far after the night you’ve had.” He spoke with mild concern, but he already knew the answer.
“No! I want to! I can take it!” You spoke with urgency.
“Absolutely sure sweetpea?” He asked one last time. Your hand gripping his shirt twisted and shook. You looked at him with the most pleading look you could muster.
“Please fuck me, Daddy.”
“Ok then,” he replied with a smile. Not once today had you forgotten your manners or rules, after dealing with the whimpering boy behind you for an evening he was glad to have his perfect baby girl still being as good as ever.
Seonghwa hoisted your hips to be level with his. Seonghwa had a thing about eye contact while he fucked you, so you did your best to not break it as the tip of his cock teased your entrance.
To be completely honest, but the focus of the rest of the room seemed to now be on Wooyoung, who was still rutting against the pillow like a dog, and they all seemed to be enjoying the show far too much to notice the tender way Seonghwa pulled your body down flush against his hips and down onto his cock. Although the broken whipper that came from you at the feeling overwhelming sensation did turn a few heads.
Your knees were shaking and your hands trembling. You had been right, the overstimulation was making it too hard to move on your own. But Seonghwa was attentive as always. He wrapped an arm around your waist and used it to slowly work you up and down on his cock. Each thrust he made felt like pins and needles in the best way possible. After Seonghwa had worked up a steady rhythm a numbing pleasure had already begun to build. Looking deep into your boyfriend's eyes you placed and hand on your tummy and after moving it around for a bit you could feel him moving inside you. You groaned out, this position had always been the best for deep penetration anyways.
“Daddy I can feel you inside me,” you whipper as he picks up speed. The room was beginning to sound like a symphony of lewd cries and squelching noises coming from both you and Wooyoung. Not to mention the panting and groaning coming from the others in the room, who had lost any semblance of shame and were jerking off freely to the unexpected yet beautiful sight. The other boy's eyes kept flicking back and forth, unable to decide which one was more arousing to watch. Many of them had already gotten themselves off before now and were now sporting half-hard cocks as they were faced with the delightful scene.
“I know baby girl, I know how much you love to be stuffed full of cock. And now everyone else knows too.” Seonghwa replied clearly satisfied with himself. His hand came up to your jaw and he delivered a particularly hard thrust and pulled your hips down to match it. You were already losing focus of the world around you and the pleasure was mounting rapidly. At the force of the thrust, your eyes almost dropped closed but Seonghwa pulled your head forward and they opened a bit wider.
“Now everyone knows how good you are for me, baby. My good little girl, who loves taking my cock.” Seonghwa was speaking in such a low grumbling voice it was almost like he was talking to himself rather than you like he was reminding himself of what he had accomplished today. You could tell that after waiting all night for stimulation he was also getting close to his own edge, and if you listen to the whiny panting of the boy behind you you could tell he was getting desperate for the release that would never come from the pillow.
You almost lost eye contact again when Seonghwa’s thrusts became sloppy. Increased pace but with less consistency was the tell-tale sign that Seonghwa was going to cum, but luckily for him, it was this exact treatment that made your head spin. Your lower half was numb with biting pleasure and it was all you could do to keep your eyes open to watch the sweat dripping down Seonghwa’s forehead as he carried on with determination. The others had caught on to what was about to happen and many were now speeding up their ministrations to themselves to climax at the same time as you and your boyfriend.
Seonghwa’s hand wound its way into your hair and used it to crash your lips onto his is a heated, wet, and messy kiss. Any second now and you would lose yourself to the pleasure. You detached your lips just enough to pant into Seonghwa’s lips,
“Daddy, in cumming”
“Damn right you are,” he moaned in response.
It was wise of him to reattach your lips before you came undone. Even with him muffling your noises there was no way the sounds you made didn’t echo around the room and ring In everyone’s ears. Seonghwa kept his pace, pushing more and more whinnies out of you till you almost jumped away from him in overstimulation, butter grip on your waist didn’t let you get far. There were tears in your eyes by the time Seonghwa finally came. Your orgasm had turned silent almost immediately after and your mouth hung wide open in an empty moan. Your brain had all but shut off when the feeling of your boyfriend's cum spilling into you registered into your brain.
Saying you blacked out would be a strong word. But when your eyes fell closed they didn’t seem to want to open. You and Seonghwa stayed connected for what seemed like an eternity before he pulled out of you with a groan and laid you gently down onto the couch to his side.
You were dead weight at this point. But when you felt Seonghwa stand up you pried your eyes open the slightest bit once you realized that the unmistakable noises of a begging Wooyoung had filled your ears.
Seonghwa walked around to stand in front of him. Most of the others in the room were now basking in the afterglow of their own orgasms but had perked up to watch.
“Please, please, please, Daddy. Please let me cum. I promise I’ll be good, I promise I won’t bother you as much, I promise, please-“
Wooyoung ramblings we’re cut short by Seonghwa taking hold of Wooyoung’s head and turning it up to look him in the eyes.
“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” Seonghwa replied. Wooyoung gasped a sigh of relief. Seonghwa motioned for Yeosang to come over and untie the poor boy and hopefully get him some relief. But Seonghwa didn’t care about that part, his eyes were now back on you. His sweet perfect, obedient little girl.
-
Tag List: @deja-vux @txtbbys @darlingmulti @emotionally-intellectual @mingishoe @eonghwa @galaxteez
@a-soft-hornytiny @yunhospuppy @barnesbabee @woowommy @hyetiny @multidreams-and-desires @spacepiratehongjoong @pikacuuuuuuu
if your wondering why your tagged, its either because you expressed interest in a part two or are otherwise a homie or I would like you to be a homie and this is my olive branch
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nctsworld · 4 years
Text
the yuletide boyfriend
✩‌ yangyang ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fluff | angst | smut | friends to lovers | ‌college au | 9k
SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ your one wish this year is to not be single during the holidays. yangyang, as your best friend, takes it upon himself to be your temporary boyfriend. soon enough, both parties begin to wish this new arrangement could last beyond the holidays. // part of the x-mas in ncity collection WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ implied ‌anxiety attack (during the first part of dec 24th – skip if need to), smut, mutual m*sturbation, couch s*x, angst, miscommunication, swearing RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ mature TAGLIST ⇾ @infnteen​ 
AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ this is my longest fic to date and also... might be my worst b/c i feel like the angst plot points don’t really make sense... but i hope y’all still enjoy!!! 
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⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit!
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NOVEMBER 30th
“So, anything special on your wishlist this year?”
Your best friend, Yangyang, asks you as you two sit next to each other on one of the many plush lounge couches in the Psychology building. It’s the usual lunch spot where you meet with him during your break between lectures.
The Psych building held much sentimental value for both of you because you met in Psych 101 during first year. Fast-forward three years later, neither of you expected to be the close friends that you are today.  
Chewing your sandwich, you ponder on his question for a bit. Through the transparent glass walls leading to outside, you see the trickle of students heading towards the building since class is about to start for the noon round of lectures. A couple, you assume by the tight hand-holding and nose kissing, giggles as they enter the building, glued to one another by the hip.
“Not really.” You drop your head downward to your lunch container, smiling to yourself. “I’m honestly just happy to have Mark in my life, especially at this point in the year.”
Yangyang nods in accordance and smiles too, understanding the story behind your sentiment.
The boyfriends you’ve had since first year have always broken up with you before the holidays, right before the end of November. Since you only became close during second year, Yangyang’s been around for two out of three of your cursed holiday break-ups.
To have Mark, your latest boyfriend, be with you and it being already December tomorrow, it was truly a blessing for you and a silver lining that maybe this was the year to break the curse. Yangyang was grateful too, wanting you to have the utmost happiness.    
You take another bite of your sandwich and tilt your chin toward the ramen eater.
“You?”
Yangyang slurps a few more noodles before he answers.
“I mean, the new Playstation would be nice,” he hums, mouth full.
Pointing the tip of your sandwich, you joke, “I’ll get it for you, but only if we share custody over it.”
“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head during a mid-slurp. “You know I can’t promise that.”
Both of you laugh in unison, living in the calm before the oncoming storm.
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DECEMBER 5th
The E-Sports club for the university is hosting a party tonight and because Yangyang’s on one of the professional teams, he asked a few weeks ago if you and Mark wanted to attend. Of course you accepted; Mark also had some friends in the club.
However, when you text Yangyang in the afternoon, stating a change of mind, he knows something’s off.
Half an hour before the party starts, Yangyang decides to visit you. Thankfully you both lived on campus, but even if you lived across town, he’d still bus out to see how you were doing. He does it all the time to visit his family, anyway.  
In the living room, the two sudden knocks at your door startle you. Peering through the peephole, you see the usual sight of your best friend, his lips curled upward and thumbs tucked in his pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.
It feels like an eternity for him when you unlock your door. The hinges squeal as you open it hesitatingly, your face barely appearing through the agape crack.
Immediately, his smile dissolves. Your face is drained and blood-shot eyes avoiding his own confront him.
Yangyang has only seen you cry twice in the three years he’s known you:
Once, when you were freaking the fuck out over potentially failing a course (but, on the upside, you ended up passing the final to save your grade).
The second time was at his house for a family dinner, when his mom accidentally added too much hot chili sauce to her homemade beef noodle soup (let’s just say you weren’t the only one crying that night).
Those were tears of dread and physical discomfort.
But this… this was crying he’s never seen from you before. His chest collapses inward, fearful of the reason behind your tears.  
His voice shakes as he asks, “What happened? Are you okay?”
Neither of you are major huggers and only exchange them on the rare occasion.
However, this situation screams the necessity of it, so Yangyang lunges towards you, the collision swinging the door out of the way. His arms embrace you like a large, warm blanket. Comforting and safe.  
Despite the affection, emptiness has taken over your body. Tonight, you’re a dead, empty shell of who you normally are.
You feel weak to the bone, but you muster up enough energy to scarcely raise your arms over his back to return the hug. Your eyes are dry from all the crying you’ve done all day, but apparently you have more tears left in you to spare.
Your eyelids snap shut and your jaw clenches.  
“Mark broke up with me.”
Your words are muffled into his shoulder, but Yangyang hears it crystal clear.  
You break down, sobbing out of control over the statement.
As aforementioned, Yangyang’s been around for your last two, now three, break-ups. Sure, he’s aware of how grumpy and distant you can get, but you never cried in front of him. You made an effort to never have him see you at your lowest point.
And yet, here you are, drowning him in your misery. Guilt washes over you for drenching his bomber jacket, but Yangyang couldn’t give two shits. His arms squeeze tighter while he rubs your back tenderly.
After several minutes pass and your waterworks abate, you peel away from him. You sniffle and rub your nose with the back of your hand.
“Sorry about cancelling last minute.”
“Hey, no need to apologize,” he whispers soothingly.
“I’m just… so fucking frustrated.”
With fatigued eyes, you drag yourself back inside your apartment. Yangyang discreetly closes the door behind him and hurriedly uses his feet to push off his shoes. As he does so, your mouth begins to run off while you slowly pace around aimlessly.  
“Fucking done with boyfriends, especially when they think it’s so fucking awesome to keep breaking up with me right before the holidays.”
He kicks off his last stubborn shoe and catches you raking your hands through your hair, pulling it back firmly. Your lips are trembling, along with your entire frame.  
“Like I get that I’m horrible and needy and emotional—”
His mouth opens, wanting to cut in to disagree with you with all his heart, but he clamps it back shut and swallows, allowing you to blow your steam off.
“—but can’t they wait until the fucking new year? I don’t know, or maybe just don’t date me in the first place! I don’t know, I don’t fucking know anymore. I’m just cursed, Yangyang...”
You flop down onto the couch and sink into the ocean of shiny pleather, shutting your eyes and trying to stop crying for the nth time. The deep sting behind your eyelids pain you, but it pains Yangyang more to watch the events unfolding ahead of him.  
Unsure of what to say, Yangyang walks around the room. His gaze falls on your laptop screen and he frowns at the mostly bare Word document that stares back at him:  
“WISHLIST:   -KEEP ONE (1) FUCKING BOYFRIEND DURING THE CHRISTMAS SEASON!!!!!!!! GOD FUCKING SDKMFLDS”
There are a few more lines below it with more profanities and keyboard smashing. He quickly darts away, a pang of guilt striking for invading your privacy.
Then, he turns to you on the couch again. You’re now covering your eyes with your forearm, pressing your lips together. His chest twists and his throat is arid as a desert.
You’re in shambles and he’s dying to pick up the shattered pieces of you, wants to glue you back together. On a regular basis, Yangyang’s a talking machine and can talk your ear off for hours, but right now, he doesn’t know what to say to you in your current state. He second-guesses himself, wonders if he’s even that great of a friend if he can’t comfort you in your worst times.
Blowing out a long sigh and removing your arm, you speak aloud, “You should get going to the party.”
Like awakening from a deep slumber, you rise up sluggishly and sit up on the couch, slouched over. The other figure in the room steps closer to you.  
“Sorry about your jacket, by the way,” you say. Your body is still, but your glazed eyes move to the dark spot on the middle of his shoulder. He glances at it and shrugs.  
“It’s better like this anyway,” he says with a gentle smile, and the tight knot in his heart softens at the flicker of your own smile, albeit a small one. Unfortunately, it fades in a few seconds. “I don’t want to leave you like this, though.”
You stare at the used, crumpled balls of tissues scattered on the living room table. Some also ended up on the floor. Break-ups are shit and 98% inevitable, but you know you’ll eventually get over it. You always do.
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”
He raises an eyebrow, as if asking, “Are you sure?” The lack of a worded reply causes you to notice the question written on his face.  
“Go,” you plead with a feeble laugh. “Have fun for me.”
Both of you head towards your front door again. Crossing your arms, you lean your head against the door frame and attempt a smile for your best friend.
“Thanks again for checking up on me.”
Yangyang nods with a half-smile, half-pout, “Of course.”
You give him a departing wave prior to sealing your door.
Usually, Yangyang would bus from your place to the student union building, where the party is being held. Instead, he zippers up his jacket and stuffs his fists into his pockets, opting to bear the early winter chill to walk his thoughts off. His blazing self-doubt burns at first, but he overcomes it by focusing on ideas to fix your accursed dating rut instead.  
Halfway through the walk, a light bulb moment occurs. A plan begins to brew on the surface of his mind and he thinks on it for the rest of the week.  
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DECEMBER 11th
It’s been almost a week since you last saw Yangyang.
Finals started already, so classes were done for the semester and thus, your lunch meet-ups halted too. On top of that, since you were simultaneously moping and studying, you hadn’t really texted him much, nor had he, besides the occasional check-up text on how studying was going and random memes. Yangyang knew you preferred time alone to heal and he respected that.  
He also thought six days was enough time to get yourself back on your feet.  
Yangyang’s at your front door once again, but this time with two bowls of his mom’s beef noodle soup in tow.  
“Long time, no see,” you greet. Your tone is chipper, but your eyes look heavy, which could be partially from studying, Yangyang thinks. His smile deepens, content that you seem a lot better than the last time he visited.
“Delivery for two,” he raises the bag in his hand.
“And if I told you I already ate dinner?” you playfully retort.
The boyish man shrugs defeatedly, “Then I’ll tell my mom you hate her cooking—”
“You didn’t say it was your mom’s, Yangyang. Oh, my God,” you gasp, half-mockingly. You rush to grab the bags out of his hand and stroll towards your tiny kitchen. “Start off with that next time.”
As you remove the containers from the bag and onto the granite countertop, Yangyang shuts the door and takes his shoes off.  
“So, I’m gonna be upfront and say that I may have come here with a proposal.”
“Changed your mind about the shared custody of the Playstation?”
“I’m still considering that one.” Finally in his socks, he slings his backpack off his shoulder and plops it onto the couch along with his jacket. He stands next to you by the counter. “But it’s on the same page as that. Remember that day we were talking about wishlists?”
“Mm-hmm,” you hum as you rip off the lid of one of the bowls. Blatant wisps fly upward and you inhale the savoury aroma, followed by a heavenly sigh.  
“Last time I was here… I might’ve seen what you wrote on your laptop.”
Your expression immediately changes into full-on cringe. You bring a palm over to your face.
“Oh, God. Let’s not talk about that. That was just weepy, lonely me talking.”
Yangyang pops off the lid for his bowl and steps into your kitchen, rummaging through your drawers for chopsticks. “So you’re telling me you don’t want a boyfriend for Christmas?”
Your hand flies off your face. Eyes widening, you spew, “Do you have a boyfriend in your pocket, ready for me to have?”
In your open hand, he places a pair of chopsticks into it. “Well, actually, I was thinking—”
Sternly, you point the chopsticks at him. “Don’t you dare set me up with your friends.”
He counters and points his at you, “Even better than that.”
With your interest piqued, you slide yourself onto the counter stool and mix the noodles around, anticipating to hear Yangyang’s fantastic plan. Your friend sits on the other stool, facing you. He pauses for a second, taking a deep breath.  
“Why don’t I be your boyfriend for the holidays?”
You freeze, and the noodles’ drips above your bowl are deafening to both individuals. Laughing awkwardly, you break your frozen state to drop your chopsticks and turn your head to look at him.
Sputtering, you say, “What?”
Unnerved, his mouth pinches to one side, thinking maybe he shouldn’t have even said anything in the first place. This was stupid, so stupid, but it’s out in the open and Yangyang already dug his grave—he may as well lay in it.  
“Well, for one, it’s something on your wishlist that I can easily get,” he pauses mid-sentence, glancing upward in thought. “Well, really, fill? Is that a better way to put it?”
He continues, eyes back on you, “And two, I’m not setting you up with a stranger or someone you wouldn’t be comfortable with. I assume you know me well enough that you’re comfortable around me?”
Yangyang lifts an upturned palm and raises an eyebrow, waiting for a response to his assumption. Petulantly, you shake your head playfully and stick out your tongue at him.  
Rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze drops down to the floor for his last point. His voice lowers.
“And, I don’t know, we’d just hang out like we usually do during that time, except we’d do more couple-y things.”
Realizing the implication of his words, he widens his eyes. “I mean, we'll do whatever you’re comfortable with, obviously. We don’t have to do any of the physical stuff—”
You burst into a giggle at his rambling and hold a hand out, cutting him off. “Okay, Yang. I get it.”  
Yangyang watches your next moves carefully. You’re peering off to one side and picking at the tips of your fingers. After a minute that feels like forever, you nod slowly.
“I guess you have a point. We are sorta like a couple already.”
Your best friend sighs in relief, grinning that you’re not outright rejecting the idea.
“So,” you meet his eyes and bunch a shoulder up towards your ear. “We’ll just be a couple until what, New Year’s?”
“Yeah, sure,” he shrugs indifferently. “Whatever you want. It’s your Christmas wish.”
You chuckle and shake your head in disbelief that you two are actually making an agreement for Yangyang to be your temporary, holiday boyfriend.
Honestly, it’s a little crazy... but maybe it’s the perfect thing to get your mind off of Mark and the handful of holiday exes hanging above your head.
“Okay, since my last final is on the 21st, let’s start ‘dating’ then and we’ll play everything by ear, see how it goes.”
Yangyang bobs his head eagerly. “Sounds good, soon-to-be girlfriend.”
He sticks a hand out for you to shake. You take it firmly, sealing the deal and flashing him a grin.
“Soon-to-be boyfriend.”  
Although the night goes on like usual between the two of you, you couldn’t deny how ecstatic you are to finally have a boyfriend during the holidays, even if it was technically your best friend as a stand-in.
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DECEMBER 21st
Tonight’s your first date with Yangyang.
That sounds weird to say, you admit to yourself, but it’s the truth.
After you stroll out of your last final of the semester, Yangyang’s waiting for you inside near the main exit of the building with several layers on, including his hoodie over his head and a knitted scarf underneath. His attention leaves his phone and he stuffs it into pocket as he notices you heading over.  
“Hey, girlfriend,” he welcomes you, beaming.
You snicker at the unfamiliar label. You wonder if you’re going to get used to this, even if it’s only for two weeks.  
“Hey, boyfriend,” you grin harder as the word falls from your lips, trying your best not to outright burst into laughter. “Where we heading off to?”
Although you said both of you could play the dating by ear, Yangyang’s been keen on scheduling plans for the upcoming days. You told him he didn’t have to, however, he insisted by saying that he wouldn’t only be a horrible boyfriend, but a horrible friend if he couldn’t make the next weeks fun for you.
Yangyang was anything but a horrible friend, and the fact that he was willing to be your holiday boyfriend to make you happy proved it further. Nevertheless, you gladly let him take the reins.
“I was thinking the movies tonight? See the latest Marvel film?”
Concurring to the idea, you scurry towards the bus stop and are movie-theatre bound to the nearest one off-campus. Arriving at the theatre, Yangyang and you buy your tickets and a popcorn to share, then head into the respective auditorium where the movie is playing. Since the movie’s been running for a couple of weeks, the auditorium is fairly empty, giving you two the chance to snag perfect middle seats with nobody else is in the row.  
Up to this point, aside from the name-dropping of boyfriend and girlfriend, this feels less like a date and more like any other hang-out with him. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing awkward.
But that changes during a third of the movie.
You’re both so immersed by the screen that neither party notices the other’s hand when both of you reach for the popcorn in Yangyang’s lap at the same time.  
A jolt runs through as your hands brush together. The duo’s eyes tear away from the screen and flit to the action happening in real-time. The touch lingers for several moments.  
“Sorry,” you quickly mumble, drawing your hand back slightly, but still hovering over the popcorn.    
“Uhm,” Yangyang licks his lips and visibly gulps under the screen’s bright glare.
He whispers, his voice almost cracking, “As your boyfriend, can I hold your hand?”
Okay, this is just your best friend, acting as your temporary boyfriend, asking to hold your hand. No big deal, no big deal at all.
Yet, the thunderous knocking in your ears, louder than the explosions blasting through the theatre’s speakers, suggests otherwise.
You don’t even register it, but you’re already nodding in response. Your breathing slows to the rate of Yangyang’s hand inching over. At the anticipated contact, you gasp softly. His smooth fingers clasp over yours. Since the arm rest in the middle of you is positioned upward, there’s no obtrusion and you relax, letting your hands mingle in between the empty space.
Without looking at one another, both of you smile bashfully to yourselves as you try to continue to focus on the screen.
After a while, because you aren’t exactly holding hands, you spread your fingers, hastily doing so because you don’t want him to think you’re breaking the interaction, and twist your palm to properly interlock hands with him. You give Yangyang’s hand a warm, gentle squeeze. He does the same and even strokes his thumb against your skin.
Talk about playing everything by ear. Who knew you’d be hand in hand on the first date?
You attempt to not think much on it, but Yangyang’s hand in yours feels... so right, like your hand was made for this, for his to hold. Like you should’ve done this way sooner.
And if Yangyang’s thoughts could be heard, he’s thinking the same.
Despite the mutual fear of sweaty palms, neither of you desire to let go, so much that you not only hold hands during the rest of the movie, but throughout the bus ride back to campus and all the way until he escorts you to your front door.
With a certain charge in the atmosphere, you exchange sweet good-byes. That night, after the culmination of stress from finals and your worries of your holiday exes, you finally have a peaceful sleep, looking forward to your date with Yangyang tomorrow.
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DECEMBER 22nd
“Babe, how do I look?”
“Very pretty, honey.” A bundled up Yangyang winks at you from behind his phone.
The second date is an evening at a Christmas light festival at a botanical garden on the outskirts of town. The lights illuminate so strongly; there was a glowing dome-like hue over the location that seemed to reach the dark sky as you got off the bus.
When stepping foot into the garden, all the encompassing lights mesmerize you. Lights on the various greenery, lights as decorative art pieces, lights lining the pathways. Different shades of colours and shapes engulf the massive area.
Yangyang’s currently in the middle of taking your photo near an arch tangled with dark blue, gold, and white bulbs. All night long, you’ve been mockingly using endearing terms, but, despite the frigid air, your cheeks heat up over something else he just said.
“You think I’m pretty?” you genuinely ask, breaking your pose.  
He lowers his phone a bit, his jaw dangling.
“Uh, I mean,” he giggles awkwardly, nodding softly. “Yeah.”
Yangyang never told you, but he initially sat near you in Psych 101 because he thought you were the most stunning girl in the class. And sure, he was a little disappointed at the time to find out you had a boyfriend, but that didn’t mean you two couldn’t still be friends. Other than the first few weeks he had a crush on you, he’s never thought of you as more than a friend.  
But those feelings are resurfacing, hitting him in the chest like a bag of bricks, due to moments like this one—you’re batting your eyelids, gaze straying elsewhere, and adorably chewing on your lower lip.  
“And you’re not just saying that as my holiday boyfriend?”
Pouting to one side, he shakes his head cutely. “Mm-mm.”
On the flipside, the beginning with Yangyang for you was strictly platonic. You were dating Haechan at the time you met him. When Haechan broke up with you later that fall, you kept a distance from dating for a while, heartbroken from the high school love gone sour. During that period, you never told him, but you did run through the possibility of dating Yangyang since you got along so well... until you met Jaemin earlier the next semester, who stole your heart. Ever since then, you’ve never seen Yangyang under that light again.
Despite that, you can’t deny how attractive he is, and now that you’re single and technically dating him, you embrace the fact with open arms.  
Beaming as bright as the lights, you tug him by the end of his puffer jacket’s sleeve to bring him closer to you.
“C’mon, handsome, let’s take some pictures together.” Prickles rise under Yangyang’s cheeks from the off-hand compliment.  
Holding your phone up in the air at about an arm’s length away, the side of your heads touch to prepare for a few selfies. When you finish capturing them, Yangyang’s hovering over your shoulder as you scroll through to glance through the photos.
“We look good together,” you comment. “Don’t you think?”
In sync, your heads turn to meet each other. Your eyes waver from the blatant clouds of your breaths and over to his lips. The clouds become rapid bursts as you begin to lean forward. So does Yangyang.
“Do you guys want a picture together?” someone suddenly asks. The abrupt voice drags you both apart instantly, crushing the moment into pieces.
“Sure,” you peep, fumbling to hand your phone over to the stranger.
Posing, Yangyang’s hand rests around the middle of your back, which is the norm when you take pictures with him, but he pulls you in snugly. You smile even wider, relishing in the new-level of intimacy and allow yourself to be truly content among his presence.
“You guys are such a cute couple,” the stranger gushes while they return your phone prior to walking away.
“I guess we are, huh, babe?” you jut your tongue out in jest at him. This time, you indulge in the endearing term without a sliver of mockery.  
Yangyang copies you, jutting his tongue out further than yours, and seizes your hand to continue the tour around the gleaming garden.
The almost-kiss isn’t mentioned for the rest of the night, nor is it acted upon, but both individuals dwell on the near occurrence before sleep that evening, staring longingly at their bedroom ceiling.
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DECEMBER 23rd
For the third date, you find yourselves at the campus’ dedicated ice rink arena to partake in ice skating.
You’ve skated a few times in the past, but you’re by no means a pro. On the other hand, this is apparently Yangyang’s first time, and he’s already skating circles around you.
“Show off,” you grumble as he does another lap past you. Your gloved hands are splayed out in front of you, careful not to fall flat on your face.
Turning on his blades, he rebounds over to you.
“Sorry,” he pants. His raised cheeks glow an adorable shade of pink. “This is really fun when you get the hang of it.”
Yangyang intertwines his fingers with yours before you can say anything. “C’mon, take my hand.”  
At first, it was sweet to skate alongside your holiday boyfriend, notwithstanding the few times you almost trip. As the minutes pass, you think you’re getting the hang of it, but suddenly, Yangyang unleashes your hand and glides ahead of you, abandoning you to slide at a swift pace that is definitely out of your comfort zone.  
“Yangyang, what the fuck?!” you screech, completely disregarding the handful of surrounding parents with their kids, the former sending daggers your direction. Your ankles struggle to make a T-shape to stop, but the struggling only somehow makes you move faster.  
As he spins to face you, now skating backwards with ease, he says, “See, you got the hang of it-oomph—”
Air’s struck from his lungs when you crash into his body. Thankfully, Yangyang skids his blades harshly against the ice and is able to steady and support you within his arms.
“You little fucker,” you gripe, lightly punching him in the arm.
He chuckles blithely, “Sorry, but it was kinda funny, you gotta admit.”
You breathe a large huff, which makes you note how your hair is falling over your face after the catastrophe. You’re about to lift your hand to rearrange the strands, but Yangyang beats you to it and is in the midst of tucking them behind your ear.
The knocking in your ears reappears with a vengeance and the physical source of the knocking is thrashing violently against your chest.
Your scorching breaths fuse in the refrigerated rink as Yangyang eliminates the inches of space between, his plush mouth ultimately converging with yours.
You have to constantly remind yourself to breathe under Yangyang’s intensity, and remind yourself that you’re in a public space and shouldn’t be making out like this.
But everyone’s skating around the couple, daring to not disrupt the affectionate display.
God, you don’t know when was the last time you’ve been kissed like this. Have you ever even experienced a kiss that was a fraction of this? Yangyang daintily cups your cheeks like you’re glass, but his lips press ruggedly into yours, inflaming your entirety and melting any existence of your figurative fragility.  
You ignore the echo in the back of your mind that reminds you he’s your temporary boyfriend.
The Talk will inevitably occur, but your future self could deal with it. Presently, you’re too caught up, drowning in Yangyang’s embrace.
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DECEMBER 24th
On Christmas Eve, Yangyang decides to bring you to an outdoor Christmas market.
Understandably, since it’s the day before Christmas, the place is absolutely packed. For the first fifteen minutes or so, it’s joyous being immersed in the Christmas spirit with the assorted little shops and their respective products. You’re holding Yangyang’s hand tightly, pointing and half-shouting over the bustle about the items that catch your eye.
Unfortunately, someone accidentally bumps against your arms and your hand is gone from his.
Swivelling your head, searching through the crowd, it occurs to you that you officially lost Yangyang.
Your feet come to a halt as your hand attempts to dig into your jacket pocket to pluck your phone out, but the moving crowd forces you to constantly follow the stream.
You yell for him, but words can’t materialize. Your windpipe tightens. Your breath is becoming shallower and shallower. Blood pulses in your ears alarmingly, blocking out the clamour from around you. Your mind’s running everywhere without control.
Where is your boyfriend?
No, scratch that, he’s not your actual boyfriend—where is your best friend?
Did he leave you? He would never.
Right?
But what happens when all of this is over? Will you still have your best friend?
You’ve avoided The Talk long enough, but you didn’t expect to catch feelings for him. Not like this.  
Maybe you’re just destined to be alone.
Is this how it feels to actually lose him?
Tears fight your vision. You hear a faint call of your name, but you can’t urge yourself to turn around, sinking only further into the sea of anonymity. You’re just a face in a crowd, all alone, with no one who cares—
Yangyang grasps you by the arm and maneuvers you aside to a less busy area behind one of the vendor stands.
“Oh, God, thought I lost you there—”
You cut him off, hugging him with all your might and stuff your face in his chest cushioned by the downy layers of his winter jacket. Yangyang immediately drapes his arms securely around you, reading your uneasiness.  
“Hey, I got you. I got you,” he soothes, running a hand through your hair. “God, not my best idea. Sorry for bringing you here.”
You shake your head, wordlessly informing him that it’s okay. You’re just glad to be with him again.
“Wanna go home?”
You nod solemnly, and Yangyang zips you out of there in minutes with his arm tucked by your side,  ensuring he doesn’t lose you in the crowd again.
Fortunately, the jitters mostly disappear when you arrive at your place in the late afternoon. You’re in the middle of rummaging through your keys to unlock your door.
“Sorry I didn’t have anything else planned for today,” he mumbles, leaning with folded arms against the wall.
“Did you...” You insert the correct key and turn the lock, clicking the door open. Your gaze lifts to match his. “Did you wanna maybe have dinner with me tonight? I was thinking of ordering pizza in.”
The grin that reaches his eyes is a sufficient answer for you.
“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” He hangs his arm around your shoulder and plants a kiss atop your head.
After chomping down pizza and playing a few rounds of Super Smash Bros. on Yangyang’s Switch, you peer over to him on your living room couch while he’s figuring out which character he should play next.  
The little mental voice in the back of your mind prods you, reminding that you should really, really have The Talk soon. The Talk that you swept under the rug at the start by saying you’d play everything by ear.
Four dates later, and the thought of this ending scares the living daylights out of you. This not only including the interim relationship, but the dire possibility of the friendship itself too. Is it possible to go back to how you were, flipping it off like a light switch?
But the internal voice is smothered as you’re drawn to his pouting lips in thought. His pouting, oh-so kissable lips. Following the ice skating kiss yesterday, you only shared a good-bye kiss when he dropped you off. Since then, you’ve been itching to have his lips on yours again.
Yangyang eventually detects your lack of focus and finds you gawking at his mouth. Your gaze dashes to his eyes, blinking innocently, but then his eyes flicker to your mouth.
The tension in the room snaps. You two carefully throw the Switch controllers off to one side and attach yourselves together. Unlike the crashing of your bodies at the ice rink, this one is purposeful. Deliberated, as his forehead presses into yours and his tender caress carries your cheek. Your body plummets backwards until Yangyang pins you completely into the couch.
Initially, the lip-locking is gentle and mild. Your fingers lay in the vicinity of his angular visage and sturdy upper frame, in contrast to his hand curling around your waist in a light squeeze.
Soon, hands traverse to other regions—his back, your thigh, his stomach, your ass. Each touch seeking, craving, whining. Tongues slinking and dancing with appetite. Your bodies buzz for more.
Open-mouthed kisses transition from the damp lips to each other’s necks. The touches dig deeper, thriving with hunger. Your back bows, body curving into his. Grinding ensues and his robust desire is blatant against your own pulsing passion.
“You don’t happen to have any condoms on you, do you?” you groan upwards to the ceiling.
He retracts from your neck to swing his head side to side, grumbling a “Sorry, we can stop...” yet you interrupt his apology by cupping his covered length. The guttural groan he exhales into your lips makes you shiver with pleasure.
“Doesn’t mean we still can’t have fun with our hands...” you say slyly.
“Fuck yeah,” he rasps, smirking, before diving in again to taste your mouth.
Clothes are stripped with the assistance of each other, leaving you with only your bra on while Yangyang opts to be completely bare. He tops your body in the same position once more.
On the couch arm rest, your head is perched with his hand clutching the space next to it for leverage. Both figures are too scatter-brained to delve into the exquisite nudity of one another, hands flying desperately to your respective arousals.
Your pretty fingers wrap around his possession almost exactly when he dips two digits into your warmth. In unison, two sharp, quiet gasps pierce the room.
“Shit, you’re so wet,” he hisses observantly. You’re so overwhelmed by the bliss that you can’t assemble any sort of response.
Your mouth’s parted to one side, chest soaring with each plunge. Through his clouded vision, he ambles over your curves and lines and yearns to see your breasts, but he respects your choice of keeping it on and opts to ambush the expanse with kisses. Your chest is launched further into his mouth and Yangyang assumes you’re enjoying this.
Fearing friction burn, you drop him from your grip momentarily, swiping a few licks over your palm. When your hand pumps him again, now drenched with saliva, grunts reverberate against your skin.  
“Yangyang?” you whimper, causing his face to pull away from the temple of your body.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I’m-I’m close.” And he can attest to it; the contractions around him are increasing, harshly squeezing his fingers.    
“Same,” he pants.
Your best friend flicks his wrist with ignition, securing your waves of elation. You attempt to do the same, but it’s difficult when he’s also sloppily thrusting himself into your fist, so you simply clench your grasp harder. His features pinch and choppy moans dribble as he yields to his climax, gushing himself over your stomach.  
Still sucking in lungfuls of air, Yangyang kisses you tenderly before removing himself to clean up the mess he made.
Following the clean-up, while putting on your clothes, Yangyang expresses how he should get going since it’s getting late.
“Did you wanna stay the night?” you pipe up.
His mind races, debating on whether to leave or not, anxious to blur the lines of your relationship even further.
Sure, he’s your temporary boyfriend, thus staying over at your place shouldn’t mean anything. But this agreement is ending next week, and he’s questioning if you two can stay just friends after this, knowing that he’s going to want more. Yangyang has had a taste of the what if, and it’s now irrevocable.
He wants you all for himself. Selfishly, but deeply.
For the sake of keeping this a great thing for you, he shoves his thoughts aside. This is all about you and for your benefit, anyhow.
“Uh, sure, I can take the couch like I always—”
“Yangyang, you just put your fingers inside of me,” you snicker, snagging him by the hand to your bedroom. “C’mon.”
The rest of the night is relatively chaste with some kisses and touches here and there. Eventually, you fall asleep facing each other with your fingers interlocked, excited for the big day tomorrow.
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DECEMBER 25th
Normally on Christmas, Yangyang and you spend it with your respective families, but coincidentally, both of your families, your parents being retired and all, ended up vacationing this year, leaving the two of you to spend it with each other.
After getting up around noon, Yangyang heads to his place to grab his gift. He takes longer than you expected because, as it turns out, he also went home to grab baking goods he bought beforehand since he wants to make butter cookies with you today.
The cookies end up fine, but the mess is another story. Besides the chaos on the counter, your faces and aprons are splotched with flour (you swear he started it, but he disagrees and stands his ground that you’re the perpetrator). With a damp cloth, Yangyang aids you to clean, but not forgetting to wipe your face and giving you pecks over your cheeks and nose.  
The baking and aftermath occupies most of the afternoon, so dinner comes in the form of fancy, romantic instant ramen for two. Afterwards, you two sit in your living room and start to exchange gifts.  
Yangyang hands his over to you first. From the size of the gift and the crumpled, oddly-shaped wrapping, you already can guess it’s a stuffed plushie of a cute animal to add to your never ending collection. You hug it tightly with a large smile.
“It’s so cute, thank you!” you squeal, but you change your expression in an instant to a serious pout. “But you can’t steal this one like you did with my Ice Bear plushie.”
“Hey, I didn’t steal Ice Bear, I just forgot to give him back.” You roll your eyes sarcastically and he laughs. “I’ll bring him over tomorrow, if it makes you feel better.”  
Then, when it’s your turn, you head into your bedroom and come out with a large, white shopping bag. His eyebrows raise, unsure of what could warrant a gift this size.
“For being my holiday boyfriend,” you grin, placing the bag in front of his feet.  
Despite the hugest smile on your face, his heart sinks at the label for a second, but he blinks and wills himself to look inside the bag.
His eyes shoot open, so much that you’re scared you might have to stuff them back into his sockets.
Yangyang slips the box out of the bag with precision and stares at it speechlessly.
It’s the new Playstation.
He shifts his eyes toward you. You’re swaying on the couch, pleased by his reaction.  
“Your parents paid for most of it, so I can’t take all the credit.” Sticking a finger in the air, you add, “You just gotta promise to share custody with me though—”
A hand behind your head yanks you into a deep kiss. He’s not the only one left speechless on the couch. He places the top of his head against yours.
“You’re crazy, but I love—” He quickly catches himself from saying something he might regret. “—I love it so much, thank you. Now I feel bad for getting you only the stuffed animal...”
You shake your head softly, brushing your thumb against his cheekbone.
“Thank you for everything.” Your eyes twinkle. “I couldn’t have asked to spend the holidays with anyone else.”
Carefully, like a newborn baby, he safely situates the boxed Playstation to one side and nabs your lips with his again. The scene feels like repeat of last night as your bodies wrestle passionately on the couch.
“Not to be presumptuous,” he mutters between the kisses upon your neck. Your eyelids flutter at the sensation. “But I also grabbed condoms from my place when I stopped by.”
His words sends the two of you leaping towards your bedroom. Under the dim lighting, you fall into the bed as Yangyang pares your layers off, one by one. With each peel, his lips roam the revealing bare skin. You swear he has kissed you from your literal head to toe when you’re fully nude in front of him.
Your companion drags his shirt over his head, throws it off to your floor, and immediately targets in onto your nub with his mouth, finally satiating his craving from last night.
Fingers thread into his hair and over his flexed back. His tongue swirls and his teeth lightly tug on your perkiness, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. And he still isn’t even inside you yet.
After leaving love upon your other bosom, Yangyang fumbles with the condom, forgetting which way it should go on. Giggling, you perch yourself onto your elbows and assist him. Rolling it over his possession, you recline yourself back and spread your legs for him.
Pensively, he sticks his tongue out as he adjusts himself between your sex, easing himself into you, and upon the full impact, you meet his gaze head-on. His stare makes you feel vulnerable and exposed beyond the physical plane.  
But, unlike the others you have been with, you trust him with everything, like you always have, and be free with him. Losing your inhibitions and submitting to your whims, you entangle and become one with Yangyang.  
Behind his hazy vision, Yangyang’s simply thinking how beautiful you are, how he can’t imagine anyone else under his touch but you, how he is willing to give up anything to make you smile.
Well, in this case, he’s willing to give up anything to make you pleased.
However, it doesn’t seem like he needs to do much because you’re howling his name and clinging onto his skin and the sheets in a frenzy, like you’re about to die of exhaustion.
You perish a few times under him before he finally reaches his little death himself, convulsing into the sheath.
When air’s replenished into your bodies, you rest on his chest under your blanket. Glancing up at him, you move some of his tousled hair off his sleek forehead.
“Merry Christmas, Yangyang,” you whisper, snuggling him with a satisfied smile.
“Merry Christmas, babe,” he whispers back, giving you one last peck before you both drift into a deep slumber together.  
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DECEMBER 26th
Last night took so much out of the both of you, you don’t get out of bed until about the middle of the afternoon. Yangyang doesn’t have anything planned for today since it’s Boxing Day, since the crowds might be crazy wherever you go, so it’s officially a chill, rest day for you both.
When you step out of the shower in fresh clothes, from behind the couch, you watch Yangyang gaming on his Switch.
The little voice in your head looms, prompting that now is the time to have The Talk, and speaks up on your behalf.
“Do we have to end things next week?” you croak.
You see Yangyang’s shoulders stiffen, then he pauses the game and turns around to face you. His gaze follows you as you step closer to the couch, opting to stand.  
“Uhm.” His Adam’s apple bobs and he shrugs. “It’s up to you, it’s your—”
“Yangyang, that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking what you think, how do you feel?”
His lips press together and he’s staring at the floor. You can tell the gears are moving, but you can’t read his expression clearly.
“I’m down for whatever you want to do,” he says slowly, eyes still averting yours.
That’s a I’m-your-best-friend answer, you deduce. Not a I-want-to-be-your-actual-boyfriend answer.  
He adds, stuttering, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind doing this a little longer if that’s what you want—”
Your face scrunches in annoyance. “Did you just sign up to be my short-term boyfriend so you can fill my empty heart?”
His eyebrows crease with confusion. “I mean, I never want to see you unhappy.”
“So it’s pity dating then?” you lash, raising your voice.
“No, I—” Yangyang bites down on his tongue, almost letting the one word slip out again. He blows out a lengthy sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “I care about you, so much. I’d do anything to make you happy.”
You’re defining his words as an affirmation of friendship and as an underlying rejection of your love.
You need to know for certain.
“Do you love me, Yangyang?” you blurt. “As more than a friend?”
This is it, Yangyang thinks. This is your chance to let her know how you feel.
But the distress written on your face makes him wonder if he should even go through with it, and it’s intensifying with every passing moment that he’s not speaking.  
If only he knew your distress was deepening because you took his hesitance as absolute rejection.  
Your heart is breaking because of him, and he technically wasn’t even yours to begin with.
You smack your lips together and gulp a few times, trying to make the huge knot in your throat disappear.
“You know what, maybe let’s just forget this arrangement and leave it all behind and forget about the sex and—”
“You wanna stop this?” he utters quietly.
The word “this” hangs heavy in the air. This, carrying the weight of not only being the temporary agreement, but also your friendship.
“Yeah,” you whisper, tears beginning to blur your eyes. “I think I do.”
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DECEMBER 28th
Two days have passed since you last saw Yangyang.
That day before he left, Yangyang, feeling guilty for how events unfolded, wanted to give back the Playstation, but you insisted for him to keep it. In spite of everything, it was a Christmas gift to him from you and his parents.
But both of you weren’t sure if the shared custody promise was going to be held up.  
In hopes that things would eventually get better and heal itself, Yangyang thought it’d be best to leave you alone for a while, like how he usually did.
And maybe he was right to do so, but this time is different.
Because he’s on the other end of the stick now; he’s the one who broke your heart.  
Under regular circumstances, whenever you needed space, he was always ready to be there by your side.
But Yangyang’s uncertain if you’re going to let him comfort you this time.  
And you’re uncertain if you even want him to.
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DECEMBER 30th
Today, Yangyang finally makes the move to get in touch with you, texting you to call him, but you don’t, so he leaves a voicemail later in the evening.
“There’s a New Year’s party I’m going to tomorrow,” he starts off, then spews the specific details.
There’s a pause and you hear shuffling in the background. You assume he’s pacing around.
“I know you ended our agreement, but I wouldn’t mind fulfilling my end since New Year’s is the last day tomorrow. I’d be really glad if you came to the party with me, whether it be as my friend or my girlfriend.”
Another pause.
On the other end, Yangyang rubs his palm over his face, considering whether or not he should say it. If you picked up the phone call, he was going to do it anyway, but this just felt improper. He wants to say it when he knows you’re listening in real-time, so he ends off the message with:
“I miss you. So much.”
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DECEMBER 31st
It’s 8:40PM. Before Yangyang buses out to the party, he’s back at your front door for one more shot. His fist taps at your door, cognizant that you wouldn’t be elsewhere since your other friends are out of town for the holidays. Despite that, you don’t come to the door. Nevertheless, he speaks to you through the wooden barrier.
“Hey, I know you want to be left alone, but I just wanted to see if you changed your mind about the party.”
Still no answer. He lets out a sigh and prays the following will incite a reaction from you.  
“About the question that you asked me that night...”
He closes his eyes and allows his mouth to carry him.
“I do. I do love you. As both my best friend and more. I’m sorry if I hurt you that night by not saying anything, but I love you so much and I think we should give us a shot.”
Still no answer. Yangyang continues.
“Look, I know it’s scary and crazy to date your best friend. I’m scared too, but you know what? I’m okay with being scared. I’ve watched you gone through those assholes over the last few years and maybe you’re scared I’ll end up like one of them, but unlike them, I don’t think you’re horrible or needy or emotional—you’re beautiful, intelligent, and strong for putting up with all those fuckers.”
He leans his forehead gently against the door.
“And even if we ever do break up, and this is a big if because I’ll always try my hardest with you to make it work, I’ll still be your friend. I promise. You won’t lose me ‘cause I need you in my life. I gotta keep my end up for the custody of the Playstation, right?”
A smile breaks over his face from his joke, but still. Radio silence.  
“Can you at least say something?” he begs.
After a few minutes, realizing he needs to probably give you more time to be left alone, he departs and heads to the party.
Originally, you actually were planning on attending the party to see Yangyang to make-up with him.
Unfortunately, out of all the days you had to take a late afternoon nap, it had to be today.
And you overslept. Big time. 
At 10:55PM, you scramble awake, realizing you’re absolutely late to the event. Since the party’s downtown, you know calling an Uber or Lyft there would be fast, but tonight’s the worst night for any share riding service and there aren’t any available drivers. Thus, you have to manage with busing there.
It’s 11:40PM when you finally reach downtown, but the bus can’t take you all the way to the core centre where the party is; hordes of people are out on the streets and traffic is dreadful. God, you’re going to be cutting it close to midnight, but you make a run for it.
You’re grateful the party is on the second floor of a small building because you slide in right through the entrance at 11:58PM. You rush to call Yangyang’s phone, hoping he’ll pick up as you try to find him in the scattered groups of people.
You begin to holler for him in hopes he can hear you, but the countdown is happening, drowning out your voice. Thirty seconds left until the clock strikes for the new year.
When his number finally goes to voicemail, you redial his number. Suddenly, a hand grasps you by the wrist.
Yangyang looks at you, dumbfounded.
“When did you get here?”  
The harmonious chanting around you floods your surroundings.
“Ten, nine, eight...”
Getting closer to him, you practically scream into Yangyang’s face, trusting he’ll hear what you’re about to say.
“I know Christmas is over, but I want to change my wish.”
“Seven, six, five...”
“I know you might not feel the same and I know things might not work out.”
“Four, three, two...”
”But I wish to date you past New Year’s until whenever, however long we last.”
“One...”
“I love you, Yangyang—”
The one you love snatches you by the waist and your cheek, stealing your lips at the last millisecond before midnight.
“Happy New Year!”
A wave of noisemakers, clappers, and hollering erupt around the room. After it dies down a bit, Yangyang shocks you with a scolding.
“Why didn’t you say anything when I came over?!”
Confusion rushes over you. You realize he probably came by when you were sleeping. 
“You came over?!”
“Yeah, I confessed my love for you.”
“Wait,” you blink blankly, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Your love?”
“Yeah,” he nods, giving you his cheesy, adorable smile.  “I love you.”
“As more than a friend?” you clarify.
“Babe,” Yangyang’s thumb caresses your cheek. “I don’t think I could ever go back to wanting less with you.”
Your lips tremble with relief as your gaze melts in his.
“And, anyway, who else am I going to share the Playstation with?”
“Well, I mean, you do have Hendery, Xiaojun, Winwin...” you start to count his infinite list of friends on your fingers.  
“Yeah, but I need you so I can constantly beat your cute little butt at games.”
“You do not constantly beat my cute little butt at games, I’ll have you know that I beat you at—”  
Yangyang shuts you up with another kiss, the one of many for the rest of the night.
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JANUARY 2nd
It’s your second morning at Yangyang’s place. You’ve only done it a few times now, but you realize that waking up in his arms is one of the greatest feelings in the world, second only to his kisses.  
In his bed, spooning you from behind, he grumbles into the nape of your neck, “Morning, girlfriend.”  
Half-awake, you mumble back, “Morning, boyfriend,” and sink deeper into the curve of his body.
Content, you finally broke your string of cursed holiday break-ups for good.  
And all it took was to be with the one who was in front of you all this time.
2K notes · View notes
landinoandco · 3 years
Text
Mick Schumacher x reader
A timely confession
Request from @gpiggy98
Warnings: fluff:)
Word count: 1.8 k
Rating: Teen and up
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When Guenther had announced that Mick Schumacher was going to be joining the team - the whole of Haas were ecstatic. There were many ways to describe him, his kind and nurturing nature, his dedication to any job he sets out to do and his gentle manner that could put anyone at ease. As gutted as you were to not be Romain’s assistant going into the 2021 season, getting Mick was definitely going to make up for it. The day you were scheduled to meet him, to go over the pre-season press plan - you were excited to show him around, introduce him to the team and talk about the new challenges you were going to be facing together. What you hadn’t expected was the inability to form a proper sentence whenever he came near you - which, as his assistant proved to be less than practical. 
“Hey, it’s lovely to meet you.” Mick had said when Guenther had introduced you that day. 
“I - uh - likewise. I’m really looking forward to working with you this year.” You had stuttered. Never in your career before had you stuttered when introducing yourself - a pink flush creeped up your neck betraying you completely. Fortunately for your sake, Mick smiled innocently and shook your hand, when he clasped your hand in his you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter. 
Guenther watched on in amusement, obviously thoroughly enjoying the experience of you making a fool out of yourself. 
After the tour - in which you had tripped over your words a fair few times - you said your goodbyes and trudged angrily up to Guenther’s office. Slouching on the chair in front of your desk, you sighed loudly. “What a day.” You uttered, pinching the bridge of your nose with your thumb and forefinger. 
“How did it go?” Guenther asked, passing you a glass of water. 
“I kept tripping over my words, to be completely honest with you it was slightly traumatic.” You replied honestly, taking the glass gratefully and taking a sip. 
“You get the chance to work with Mick and you call it slightly traumatic?” Guenther mocked, the corner of his lips turning up. 
“Tomorrow’s a new day - maybe I’m coming down with something.” You wiped your forehead in anguish. 
As it turns out you were coming down with something but unfortunately it wasn’t really something that could be cured in a matter of days. You finally worked out what was wrong when Mick had asked you to grab a little bit of lunch with him before the first race in Bahrain. You had to keep reminding yourself that it wasn’t a date, it was for work and only work. 
It was a well known fact that Mick was a heartthrob, a real life Prince Charming who drives cars for a living. His crystal blue eyes were seemingly easy to get lost in - perhaps that was half your issue. The way he was so softly spoken, lulled you into a trance. His mannerisms resembled that of a golden retriever pup and after that you realised - you were falling for Mick Schumacher. 
You were sitting in a terraced cafe, looking over the city landscape near to where the track was. Picking on chips, as Mick asked about your career up to this point. 
“What made you want to become an assistant?” He asked, passing you the plate of chips. 
You picked one up and waved it at him, “I’ve always been in love with the sport and what better way to experience it first hand than work with the drivers. I could never have been one so join them, I suppose.” 
“Did you ever race as a child then?” He asked, leaning onto his elbows, a lopsided grin plastered onto his face. 
“I did for a while.” You nodded and took a bite of your chip. 
“Maybe, during the summer break, we should go go-karting. Show me some of the good tracks in the UK.” He declared, completely oblivious to the effect it had on you. The familiar pink tinge that had gotten too used to creeping up onto your neck, the corner of your eyes crinkled as you gazed into his eyes. 
“I would really like that.” You stayed transfixed, gazing longingly at him. If only he knew how you truly felt or even better - if he felt the same way. You knew he never could, at the end of the day he had been given an opportunity to drive in formula one and you knew he wasn’t going to let a girl he worked with distract him from that. 
You cleared your throat and tore your eyes away from him - as much as it pained you - and stood up but as you turned back around, you realised that he was still watching you, his eyes glinted and the corner of his mouth quirked up. 
“I suppose we should think about getting you back, wouldn’t want them thinking you’ve gotten lost.” You said, forcing a smile onto your face. 
A few weeks later and it was time for the race in Imola, the rain was pouring down and the team’s strategists had re-grouped to come up with a strategy to fit in with the weather. Unlike for people at home, watching a wet race as part of a team was never enjoyable - the tensions thick throughout the race. Over the few weeks that you had been working with Mick, your feelings only grew stronger but since the season was well underway you found yourself spending more and more time with him. It was an impossible situation that you wished upon nobody. 
You had never been good with nerves and that was clear as you paced up and down his room. 
“Liebe.” It was his new nickname for you. “Why are you so stressed. When you start stressing, so do I and do you really want me to-” You stopped pacing and sat next to him, he placed his hand on your shoulder in an attempt to calm you. If anything it made you worse. 
“I know, I’m sorry Mick.” You exhaled shakily and looked around the room. You had seen a fair few wet races in your time and not all of them had ended nicely, in fact the majority of the time someone ended up in the wall. “Racing in the rain always makes me nervous.” You looked down at your lap, toying with your fingers. You looked at him desperately, “Just promise me you will be careful.” 
“Damn,” He whispered, “You know I was really considering driving off the track today. A little off-roading never hurt anyone.” He laughed at your horrified expression. “I’m only teasing, Liebe. You know I will be careful. Extra careful so I won’t get a telling off from you - or Guenther.” You allowed yourself to chuckle slightly, he nudged his knee with yours and tried to catch your eye but you deliberately avoided it, nibbling on your lip and furrowing your eyebrows. 
He placed his finger under your chin and lifted it to meet his gaze then placing his hand either side of your face. Breath hitching in your throat and your heart having an absolute field day, you blushed profusely, once again unable to look away from his intense gaze. 
“What’s on your mind?” He asked,  you could feel his breath fanning across your face. You shut your eyes, hands clammy and you didn’t know whether you could trust your voice. 
“I care about you.” You managed to stutter, your eyes still closed. At least this way, you couldn’t see his expression when he realised. 
“I care about you, Liebe, but you already know this-” He began carelessly. 
“No, Mick.” You opened your eyes, his brows knitted. “I care about you more than I should.” Your tone was hushed, his eyes flickered with realisation, his mouth curved into a beaming grin. He moved his face so your lips were only a tantalizing distance from each other, “Why didn’t you say so sooner.” His lips brushed yours as he spoke and when you didn’t answer he closed the distance. Capturing your lips with his, it was like two puzzle pieces had been put together. 
There was a knock at the door and the pair of you jumped apart - a voice called out: “Mick it’s time to head to the track.”
Reluctantly he got up, brushing down his race suit and held out his hand to help you up - instead of letting go once you got to your feet, he proceeded to pull you into his chest. “We shall talk about this after the race, Liebe.” He kissed the tip of your nose and walked out the door, leaving you lost for words behind him. You could still feel the ghost of his lips on yours, relishing in the events of a couple of moments ago - playing it over and over again in your head. 
It was a tense 2 hours in the Haas garage - the race far from lacking action; with Latifi crashing into the wall on lap one then on lap four Mick losing the backend of his car whilst under the safety car and crashing into the exit of the pitlane. Fortunately with a new front wing he was able to carry on and finished the race 16th. They weren’t the only two to crash as Bottas and Russel came together - even Hamilton ran off the road. Imola was proving to be savage in the rain. 
As soon as Mick crossed the finishing line, the whole garage relaxed, hugging and cheering. He had matched his result from Bahrain and managed to finish in front of Nikita. As far as Haas was concerned - it was a successful day. As his assistant you were to meet him at Parc fermé to take him to his weigh-in and post-race interviews. As soon as he saw you he took his helmet off and wrapped you into his arms, your feet coming off of the floor. You giggled and placed your hands either side of his face. 
“I was as careful as I could be.” He assured, a smirk toying at the corner of his lips. You shook your head at him, your mouth curved into a wide smile. 
“You did a good job.” You said to him, he wrapped his arms around your waist - pulling you closer into him. Then he dipped his face and connected your lips, rain falling around you. It was atmospheric and cheesy all at the same time.
There were wolf-whistles and cheers around you, as passing drivers walked by. You pulled your face away, both of your cheeks resembled tomatoes but it didn’t really matter. You knew you could never be happier with Mick by your side.
They say home is where the heart is and as long as you were with Mick - you were home.
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shepherds-of-haven · 3 years
Note
I hope you’re having a great day Lena! I was just wondering if we could have any fluff facts about the shepherds as a whole! Like fun tidbits of how they interact with each other, what some of them do if they have the same day off, does anyone host weekly game nights?? I hope that makes sense! Reading the recent short story on Patreon I love seeing how the characters interact with one another and now I need moreeeeeee🙏
Ooh, great question! I’m feeling curiously tapped dry at the moment, so I’ll probably have to reblog this as more ideas come to me; I’m so happy you’re enjoying the short story, btw!! 💖
Some group dynamic headcanons:
Many of them steal clothes from each other. Briony wears a cute sweater of Shery's (she asked), Ayla gets cold so she just takes one of Red's jackets from a chair (she didn't ask), Chase gives Tallys his scarf one day and Riel corders Trouble a pair of gloves from a fashion line he favors because his old ones are holey and they get into an argument about it... This leads to some recruits mistakenly thinking that the captains are all involved in some sort of mass relationship because they keep walking out of each other's rooms wearing each other's clothes. (The recruits believe a lot of really dumb stuff, if you couldn't tell. They LOVE gossip. It's like a competitive sport in the compound)
There is a weekly card game night, initiated and organized first by Chase, but it grows bigger over time, with snacks, cakes, drinks, and new games being procured! I'd actually say it's more like every ten-fourteen days or so than on any set weekday, and is typically proposed by anyone who senses that they or others need to blow off some steam. They all tend to meet in a private common room and either just chill and play some card games and casually drink and listen to music, or they get LOUD and raucous and play more risque non-card games (like Question or Command/Truth or Dare). The loud nights are more like once a month or bi-monthly, though! They take place in the captains' lounge so dumb recruits don't get to join! It's rare that they're in there all doing the same thing, though: maybe half will be at the table playing card games while others will be broken up into smaller groups, say arm-wrestling in the corner or playing chess at the smaller table or reading, but they're all there! Game nights are almost never held unless everyone is there, which is extraordinarily difficult to schedule, but they all make an effort to make it happen--even those who first had to be dragged into it, like Blade or Riel!
Speaking of chess games, Red and Riel have a standing game where they complete at least four more moves every night that they're around and able to meet up after dinner. Planning their next move helps them both break up the monotony of the day, and it's something they enjoy immensely. However, whenever he gets called away on a mission, Red gets sick with worry that Riel's been cooking up all sorts of schemes while he's been gone, so sometimes on the road he has, like, a schematic that he doodles on trying to anticipate Riel's next move, and it's very nerdy and ramps up in joking Anxiety. Riel, graciously, goes easier on him on nights after he comes back from long trips, though he denies it
Similarly, Blade and Trouble have a standing training session once a week where they just beat the crap out of each other. This is generally where they do the majority of their talking
Briony and Ayla first had an agreement that they would get the other one up if they overslept (Briony tends to be the one who oversleeps while Ayla is better about being up at dawn, but Ayla is really grouchy if she went to bed late and Briony is the only one who can handle her), which morphed into doing runs and sparring together at dawn and having breakfast frequently!
The girls have a standing spa night once a month where they all get together in a room (usually Shery’s) and basically do sleepover stuff and relax and chat and catch up for a few hours. This also sometimes involves showing each other new outfits that they bought that month! Sometimes there are even group baths in the big common bath, but these are rarer because Shery is shy and Tallys doesn’t like sitting in hot water getting pruny
Chase and Trouble drag Red and Halek to go drinking with them around once a month; sometimes Blade is persuaded to go if Trouble can get the drop on him and punch him hard enough to wind him. It’s complicated
Riel and Shery, of course, have tea together once a week! You’re not allowed if you can’t bring a chill vibe (Riel’s rules). Tallys, Lavinet, Halek, and Red are occasional visitors; Briony is allowed on a good day. Blade would be allowed but he has 0 interest
Similarly, Lavinet hosts a weekly brunch, either in a courtyard or at some restaurant in town! Typically it’s a girl thing and Ayla, Briony, and Shery are the most consistent attendees, but Chase has snuck his way in there often, and Riel, Halek, or Red pop up occasionally!
Tallys and Halek cook together! It’s not all that often and doesn’t seem to have any set way of materializing--it just happens somehow--but they both very much enjoy it! Sometimes they cook dinner for the whole group and have a little dinner party that they both secretly get excited for! Sometimes Shery bakes the dessert!
Riel noticed that Tallys has a little garden that she spends time weeding, so he sends gardening tools or special seeds when he thinks she needs them and she leaves baskets of vegetables or vases of flowers in his office. All of this is done without exchanging a word
Chase sporadically teaches Briony acrobatics and things like tightrope walking, just randomly whenever they’re both idle. She teaches him how to gut people with bare fists and also sometimes they paint! 
Caine caught Red grazing in the pantry late one night and now it’s like a Thing where they pass each other in the kitchen and Red sort of just looks the other way re: Caine’s bedtime and what on earth he’s doing up so late and Caine doesn’t tell anybody that Red is just absent-mindedly eating a loaf of bread at 2 AM because he was too busy working to remember to eat dinner. It’ll be like, “there’s some turkey leftover from dinner in the cold box” “oh hey, Caine. thanks. ...so, what’s the news from the midnight watch tonight?” “i’m going to go hunt ghosts on the seventh floor with my friends!” “...okay! have fun!”
Lavinet has a monthly shopping trip where she updates her wardrobe, and it is very common for others to accompany her around the city and just shop while they drop! Common partners are Shery, Briony, Riel, Chase, and once memorably Blade, who didn’t know what he was in for!
Trouble and Ayla are wildly competitive and keep arm-wrestling each other for money; this becomes a bi-weekly sporting event that is eagerly attended and bet upon by third parties
There was ONE group karaoke night. ONE. Most of them got so blackout drunk that they swore to never do it again. Even now, several of them go green whenever they hear a popular bar song (“Don’t Piss Where You Plant Your Flowers”) being sung, especially badly
The game of "telephone" gets really bad in their group. It's like, Shery will say to Briony that she's worried because she thought Riel looked a bit peaky and feverish. Briony will say in passing to Trouble that Riel is getting sick and Shery is worried. Trouble will say to Tallys that Shery is worried sick because Riel is bedridden. Tallys will be mixing herbs and Chase will ask what for and Tallys will reply that Riel is sick, but because she's mixing herbs, Chase will surmise that the sickness must be quite advanced, and will later say, "Damn, have you seen Riel? Seems like he's really sick." Red will interpret this as "I have seen Riel for myself and have determined that he's extremely ill." At least four people will bust into Riel's room, expecting him to be on the verge of death, despite the fact that they saw Riel that morning. Riel will be fine and very annoyed at the intrusion.
They rarely go out as a group to bars and establishments outside of the compound (too chaotic as well as risky, for one thing, and also, recruits don't need to see their superiors like hanging out of bushes and dancing on tabletops drunk out of their minds, and also, "Mages can't drink" (lol)), but when they do deem it a worthy occasion (Trouble's birthday, say), the girls are very punctual when getting ready, and the boys are almost always extremely late due to various shenanigans (Chase forgot that he put a booby trap on Red’s door, covering Red with flour, or a cat somehow slips into Trouble’s room and steals, like, a detonator or an important key, and they have to go chasing it across the city). This has led to the girls coming late on purpose in order to even out their arrival, but mysteriously, this has only led to even later start times, meaning they often don’t get started until like 10 or 11 PM when the most well-intentioned souls meant to be in bed by midnight... that never happens, either!
One such night once led to them ending up on a ridge in the Sun’s Embrace, like a mile outside of the city, in order to watch the sun rise together, because hiking in the dark while blasted out of their minds sounded like a really good idea. They all made it, and the dawn was spectacular, but the moment was ruined when Tallys said softly, “It’s the beginning of a beautiful new day--” punctuated by Trouble abruptly throwing up in a bush and Riel just flat-out passing out
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blu-joons · 3 years
Text
Dates With The Boyz ~ The Boyz Headcanon
Sangyeon:
Sangyeon will love to take you out late at night just as the city begins to die down
He’ll be big on driving to wherever your date is too, with the music turned up as high as it can be in the car
On special occasions, he’ll surprise you in the car with songs that he’s written himself just for you
The majority of your dates are outside, Sangyeon isn’t one for sitting around and doing nothing on a date
Whenever the two of you do something sporty, he can’t help but get a little competitive and try to win
At the end of every date, he will always make sure that he drives you right to the front of your door like a proper gentleman
His car will have a bag just for snacks that the two of you can enjoy when you’re driving to or from a date
Other times the snacks and the music will be specifically for your date, just driving around the city and exploring
Jacob:
Jacob will love to take you to music events around the city to enjoy the sounds and the vibe
He’ll often find himself getting inspired by different bands and how they play their instruments as well
Nothing makes him happier than when he looks across at you and sees your foot tapping along to the song
Whenever a guitarist comes on, he’ll love to assure you that he can play the guitar much better than they can
He’ll be big on inviting friends or family along to and making the evenings a really social event
Before or after the gig, Jacob will always make sure to take you out for food and ensure you look after yourself
At the end of the night, he’ll love to buy the band tees too to keep hold of to remember your dates together
A whole rail of his wardrobe ended up being filled with tees from the various events that that the two of you attended
Younghoon:
A lot of planning goes into a date with Younghoon, he likes to make every one of them special
He’s not huge on massive and outlandish dates as they always make him incredibly shy
Your perfect date together is usually spent with a movie or two lined up and plenty of snacks to indulge with
Younghoon will always let you pick out the movie as he’s never too fussy about what he watches
Even though he’s shy, he’ll love to cuddle you nice and close whilst you watch the film and make sure he can show off his body
If the two of you aren’t in the mood for a movie, then Younghoon will set up his console ready for a games night
You always see a different side to him when gaming, the shyness disappears, and his competitive streak comes out
Either way, the two of you are always nice and cosy, often in the comfort of your own home too
Hyunjae:
Jaehyun will love to take you out on physical dates, anything sporty where he can let go of all of his energy
The two of you can usually be found playing crazy golf or bowling, anything that Jaehyun can try and beat you at
He loves to tease you whenever he wins, or if you mess up a shot, he’ll be there to rub it in your face
Whenever the two of you sit down on a date, you can tell how much he hates it, often nagging you to move again
If you can’t do something, he’ll love to step up and show you what to do with his arms wrapped around you
On the off chance that you’re lucky enough to beat him, he’ll always cry out for a rematch to prove his athleticism
There is one thing that can be a guarantee though, Jaehyun will always have you laughing, whatever your date is
You often end up having to pull the equipment out of his hands as it gets dark so that you can get home
Juyeon:
Juyeon loves to take you out on little adventures so that you can explore new parts of the city and its outskirts
You know that Juyeon loves nature, so when he lets you know you’re off for a walk, it never comes as a surprise
He’ll often organise a small picnic for the two of you too to make sure that it’s nice and romantic as well
Sometimes the two of you will walk for hours if you find a good enough spot, letting Juyeon enjoy the quiet
Although you love adventuring, a small part of him will often worry that his walks aren’t what you enjoy
And so, he’ll try and split dates so that they’re equal between the things that he wants to do, and the things that you want to do
His picnic basket will often be filled with a lot of your favourite foods so that you can see how much he cares
The two of you always make sure to take plenty of photos too whenever you find an aesthetic spot on your walk
Kevin:
Kevin loves to cook for you before anything else on a date and show you just how talented he is in the kitchen
Whenever you’re let into the dorm, you are always instantly greeted by the smell of something delicious cooking
If the two of you have the time, Kevin will love to cook together and enjoy making a mess in the kitchen
He’s far too much of a jokester to ever let the two of you cook seriously, always winding you up and playing pranks
To be honest, when the two of you cook together, you’re not even completely sure whether what you’ve made is edible
Kevin will be very protective of his kitchen, and any expensive tools that he has will be strictly off limits
He can’t help but feel proud whenever you enjoy what he’s made, murmuring in delight opposite him
If there’s leftovers, he always makes sure that you take it home to make sure you eat well tomorrow too
New:
Just like Kevin, Chanhee will love to cook for you, however he will take cooking a lot more seriously than Kevin
He’ll love to invite you round for a meal, making sure that the table is decorated nicely with a soft atmosphere in the room
Chanhee works hard to make sure that he learns all of your favourite foods to learn good recipes to treat you with
Whilst you always protest that you’ll wash up, he always makes you leave it for him to do the following day
Once you’re well fed by Chanhee, he’ll take you to lay down and watch a movie or a series that you’re in the middle of
He’s wary about doing too much in public, so dinner and a movie is a good way of keeping you protected
Even though you like to try and cook for Chanhee too, it never compares to what he cooks for you
As with Kevin, he’ll always make sure any leftovers are taken by you so that you don’t have to worry about meals the following day
Q:
The two of you never have a pattern for your dates, your open to trying just about everything with each other
Your dates tend to depend on how busy you are, the weather, and what availability there is around the city
Some dates you’ll be chill and stay at home doing your own thing and keeping things nice and cosy
Other times you’ll be out exploring the city doing something physical and most likely exhausting too
Little planning goes into your dates, it depends on the mood you’re both in whenever you decide to set a time for a date
The spontaneity is your favourite part of dates with Changmin, you never really know what to expect from him
But you can guarantee whatever it is that you do, you’ll always go home with a smile on your face
Even though he doesn’t always know what his plans are for a date, Changmin always manages to get them right to what you need
Juhaknyeon:
Haknyeon will love to take you to shows, whether it’s concerts, musical theatre, or a theatre play
The art school student still lives on in him, and he loves to show you all of his favourite shows and passions
You’ll often come to his place to see a pair of tickets on the table, letting you know that he’s booked for another show
Before every show he will always make sure to take you out for dinner too to make a proper date night of things
Haknyeon is very particular about his food so he’ll make sure to take you to the best nearby restaurant that he can find
He loves getting tickets to new shows almost as soon as they go on sale so that the two of you can see them before anyone else has
Haknyeon always makes sure to keep the tickets from events too so that he can scrapbook them altogether
Eventually one day he plans to gift you something creative with all of the tickets that the two of you have collected
Sunwoo:
Sunwoo loves to create cosy and intimate date nights for the two of you to spend together in your own company
His favourite cosy dates definitely include a movie and plenty of snacks that sit in between the two of you
Quite often Sunwoo will end up falling asleep on you midway through the movie if he’s hard a particularly long day
Whenever you arrive, there’s always a massive pile of blankets with your name on ready to be bundled underneath
He always makes sure to pick a movie that you’ll enjoy, that’s always the most important thing for Sunwoo
Grand gestures aren’t Sunwoo’s thing on dates, he much prefers to enjoy the smaller and more intimate moments
He’ll have specific cushions and blankets that he keeps for when you come over, knowing exactly what your favourites are
If anyone dares interrupts you both as well, Sunwoo will quickly make sure that they’re not welcome for your movie night
Eric:
Youngjae loves to do something sporty, whilst not necessarily physical and competitive between the two of you
One of his personal favourites will be to take you skating, being able to hold onto your hand and enjoy the breeze as you fly around the rink
You much prefer when the two of you go dancing, any excuse to get a little bit closer to Youngjae
Whatever it is that the two of you do, you much prefer a sport that you can do as a team and rely upon each other
The most important thing is that the two of you enjoy yourselves, neither of you care about winning or losing
You love to challenge yourselves with new things too, if there’s something you’ve not tried before, you’ll give it a go
But for Youngjae, nothing will ever compare to the skate rink, just like nothing will compare to the dancefloor for you
By the end of the night the two of you are laughing over each other’s mistakes that you’ve made through the night
---
Masterlist
195 notes · View notes
lazysublimeengineer · 3 years
Text
of glamorous appearances and intrigues
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Summary: One shot sequel to Umbrella Man.
Everyone is here for the infamous Takemichi Hanagaki.
And enticing him to join in their own gang has proven to be difficult than they initially thought.
Characters: Senju K., Takemichi H. & I. Wakasa
Draken watched warily the surroundings around them. His face and stomach still hurt like fucking hell after he was punched like a sack of potatoes by that bastard Terano. Nevertheless, that was the least of his worries and his major concern now was the nervous, scrawny blond beside him as every gang leader present here wanted to swoop Takemichi right away into their gang once they managed to convince him to join their team.
Fuck, their crybaby hero was always a magnet for trouble and dangerous people.
He can’t even imagine the clusterfuck that they’ll have to face if Mikey and his gang arrives here all of a sudden.
The tension has gotten too thick now that one could sliced it with a bread knife once the gang leader of Brahman and the top 2 of the three deities, Kawaragi Senju, has arrived here with a dramatic entrance of landing a solid kick to the face of Terano after distracting him of his flying umbrella.
Served him right. That fucking bastard.
Draken glanced at Takemichi with a neutral expression on his face. The poor boy was getting more nervous and bewildered by the events unfolding in front of him. He needed to remind him to keep his shit together and refrain from making any sudden, impulsive decisions that he may predictably regret in the end. However, before he could even speak to him, a loud smacking sound into the ground had caught his attention and his eyes landed on Shion being plummeted by a severe punch of another newcomer that made Draken instantly cautious and alert.
“You’re a disgrace to Black Dragon! So, cut that shit already!” The man yelled ferociously to Shion who was sporting a chin strap style beard.
Draken could see that Takemichi flinched from the corner of his eyes.
“That’s Benkei-kun, from the First Gen.” Inui’s stated calmly and he stored it from the back of his mind.
Well, they’re in deep shit. And it doesn’t really help that the added unwanted guests who kept coming into this fray made his hackles rose.
Draken guessed that he had no choice but to fight their way out of this one. A wide grin crossed his features and readied his body into a fighting stance.
“Its been a while since this engine has gotten heated up! Let’s get this party started!”
Takemichi blinked a few times as he stared at Senju who already stood up to his full height while holding his umbrella calmly and stared at Terano with a blank expression on his face.
“Hold on. This little guy…Is Brahman’s boss?” Takemichi mumbled to himself, a slight look of disbelief and confusion marring his youthful features.
Takemichi knew that he shouldn’t judge a book by its cover and underestimate the people around him. He already learned it the hard way from his past experiences. Nevertheless, it still took him by surprise sometimes on how could a small and young-looking person could pack a certain punch to his knuckles and deliver a roundhouse kick that would send them into a fitful sleep.
It made Takemichi wary yet intrigued by this innocent looking gang leader of the Brahman. He surmised that his deep-seated eyes and ingenuous features had somewhat landed him in being underestimated by the other gangsters who doesn’t know what he’s capable of.
Just like with Shion who was now questioning his presence and capabilities.
But before he could even mull about it for any longer, his attention was fully caught when someone just socked Shion directly into his face that made him fall down like a ragdoll into the ground. The newcomer made him flinched and grimaced in an instant as he looked at them with wide eyes.
“Senju! Brahman is not here today to brawl! Our objective is Hanagaki Takemichi!” The man berated Senju harshly.
“You’re so loud Benkei.” Senju replied dispassionately, unaffected by the man’s infuriating voice directed at him.
“Oh yeah! I’ve completely forgotten it too! They’re here to scout me…But why?” Takemichi tried to rattle every possibility inside his brain for a reason why most of them wanted to recruit him to their own gang suddenly.
“If Takemichi wishes to return to the world of delinquency…He belongs to us, Rokuhara Tandai!” Kakucho announced firmly after he landed a solid punch to Benkei and sent him flying into the corner.
“Kaku-chan!” Takemichi exclaimed in disbelief as his thoughts were cut off by his sudden action and bold announcement.
“Right Takemichi?” Kakucho looked at him square in the eye.
“Uh! Um…” Takemichi replied intelligently. His face was bewildered yet conflicted at the same time.
Does he really need to choose here? Right now? But how could he know if he made the right decision of accepting an offer from one of these gangs? Won’t he regret it in the end?
Takemichi could feel his mind was about to explode from the onslaught of rapid thoughts and information. Quick decision making was never his strong suit and he can probably make a goddamn mistake again from the pressure of this tense situation.
Senju was quiet and was still sporting an unflappable expression on his face despite the bold attack and claims of Kakucho. But his eyes narrowed imperceptibly and his grip tightened on his umbrella. A slight dislike wormed its way to his very being as he watched Kakucho tried to convinced Takemichi to join them by putting him on the spot. He could sensed the waves of conflicting emotions radiating off Takemichi as he tried and failed to give a proper response.
At times like this, they also had to draw out their trump card to neutralize the situation and gain Takemichi’s hand and favor. He wouldn’t let the other gangs swept Takemichi off of his feet and win him over. He’d have to play every trick on this game to outsmart them and win this blond who possessed those electrifying blue eyes which could be their weapon against them. Senju gave a subtle glance to Akashi to which the latter understood and signaled for their top executive to enter the scene.
“This gets the blood pumping, doesn’t it, Waka?” Akashi stated with a lazy grin on his face.
“No, it doesn’t.” A young man suddenly appeared behind Kakucho which made him surprised and fell backwards.
“When did you—?”
“If I cared enough, this guy wouldn’t be standing alive.” Wakasa cut him off with a bored look etched into his face.
‘These monsters come out one after another!’ Takemichi thought incredulously.
“Hey! Don’t just appear glamorously out of nowhere Waka!” Benkei yelled furiously.
“I’m just following Senju’s orders.” Wakasa replied nonchalantly.
A series of murmurs and mutterings then erupted from the other gangsters who were also bystanders from the corners.
Nevertheless, Wakasa tuned them out as his disinterested gaze landed on the infamous Hanagaki Takemichi.
So, this was the one huh?
The notorious morale weapon of the Touman gang in the past.
There was nothing exceptional to this man and he possessed a face that he could probably forget after 2 days of meeting him. Nevertheless, despite his scrawny appearance and the fearful stance in front of them, Takemichi’s eyes caught him the most. It was the shade of a perfect blue that reminds of peaceful skies in the Spring. It’s also expressive and open that he could read every emotion and obvious thought from them. He gleaned that Takemichi was an honest and sincere type of guy.
A refreshing breathe of fresh air into their world that’s full of ragtag delinquents and decrepit liars.
Wakasa casually made his way towards the scrawny blond and crossed his personal space, staring at him intently in the eye.
“Hanagaki Takemichi. We’re here to scout you. Join us, will you?” Wakasa stated in a detached voice as he continued to study the multitude of expressions that flit across his face from his statement alone.
Takemichi stepped backwards, taken aback by Wakasa’s sudden proximity around him and his intense stare. He swallowed thickly as he looked back at him hesitantly. The top executive was sporting a bland yet expectant look on his face as if waiting for his confirmation to join them instead. His long, ponytailed locks that have some streaks of highlights reminded him of Kazutora’s style and his dead yet intense stare reminded him of Sanzu.
A shiver ran down his spine.
He just oozes danger and trouble yet Takemichi can’t tear his eyes away from him as if he was briefly captivated by those intense eyes that was boring right into his soul.
An imperceptible sigh broke him out of his strange trance and he turned his attention to Senju who was looking at them with an indifferent expression on his face.
Senju pursed his lips as his line of sight caught Wakasa invading the personal space of the blond, a flare of annoyance started to creeped into his veins before he inwardly sighs and clamped it down.
Now was not the right time to pay attention to these odd yet irritating sensations that were engulfing his brain.
“Don’t scare him like that Waka. Our main goal is to scout Takemichi.” Senju stated bluntly.
Wakasa stepped away from him. But his gaze lingered on Takemichi for a few seconds before he trained his attention to Senju. “Right. I understand. Sorry if I’m coming out too strong for you Takemichi.”
Takemichi chuckled nervously before he stepped beside Inui, trying to calm down his stuttering heart.
What the hell was happening to him?
“Hanagaki. Those are the living legends. Waka and Benkei. They’re the best duo from the 1st Gen Black Dragon! And then, 1stGen Vice President, “The God of War” Akashi Takeomi. This is…The founding members of 1st Gen Black Dragon.” Inui informed him calmly.
Takemichi absorbed Inui’s words, digesting them inside his head. So, this was the generation led by Mikey’s brother, Shinichiro Sano. And now, these living legends were being led by the mysterious deity in front of them and was coined the “Unmatched Kawaragi Senju.”
With Senju leading these men in the front, it already gave him an idea of how immensely powerful this enigmatic man in front of him. And it made his curiosity peaked around—
“What the hell are you guys hyping each other for?”
Draken’s loud voice cut off his wandering thoughts and looked at him with a befuddled expression on his face.
“Should we continue where we left off?”
Before Takemichi can get a word in, Draken was was already challenging Terano again to a fist fight and cracking his knuckles, a vicious grin was present on his face.
“W-what is going on now?” Takemichi stammered as he could feel his soul leave out of his body.
Were they seriously going to fight now?!
Meanwhile, Wakasa and Senju watched Takemichi from afar, his anxious flailing made them amuse and fascinated.
They both know that getting this blond into their gang would make things more interesting and they’ll make sure to win him over to their team by any means necessary.
(A/N: I don’t own any of these characters from the franchise. Only this insane fic of mine. Apologies in advance if some of them are OOC especially the new ones as I tried to make them in character. Wakasa only appeared in the few panels of the manga but I tried to connect his characterization basing from his few dialogues and behavior to this fic of mine. This was inspired by the events of chapter 213 of the manga. Chapter 213 was funny and wild. The boys are fighting over Takemichi and wants a piece of him. And ofc. The glamorous appearance of the cool yet distant Wakasa has haunted my shipping ass and couldn’t resist adding him to Takemichi’s harem. So, what’s the appropriate ship name for this newborn ship? Wakamichi or Wakatake? Or you have something cooler ship name in mind? Let me know your thoughts in the comment section.)
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maybe-your-left · 3 years
Note
ASK FRIDAY - CREATE A SCENARIO: roommates trope with Kylo
Due to some last minute room swapping and late registering Reader and Kylo end up in the same dorm but they're mad about it and hate each other (cue intense sexual tension)
Dorm room, Snowed in, evening time like 6
The heater/power has just gone out and Kylo knows a few ways to get warm...only if Readers up for it...
been working on this for FOREVER ANON. 
I loved it! 
Tumblr media
Crushed
TW: NSFW, dirty talk, dom/sub vibes, exhibitionism, kinda fluff, Kylos not that nice and is an entitled man.
Oh yeah, you fuckin’ slut. 
Yes-Yes-Yes! 
‘M gonna cum all over your fucking tits.
You slapped the wall next to your bed, hard. 
“Can you guys keep it down! It’s 1 in the morning!” 
Muffled voices came through the paper-thin wall, sounding like bodies moving to the floor. Good, you thought, at least he will get rug burn from the shitty carpet, might keep him from fucking everything that moves. 
A hard knock on the wall pulled you from that thought. 
“Go read your fucking Bible! I’m trying to get my dick wet!” 
“Please!” 
“Why don’t you go get fucked!?” 
Some giggled came through next, followed by more muffled whispering. You whined loudly, trying to ignore the sounds of him fucking whatever bimbo your dormmate had in his lair. Shoving your face into your pillow, muffling your tears and wails. 
You turned on your TV, drowning out the final act of his performance. Fingers poised over your keyboard to file another noise complaint with the RA… not like they ever helped you. The last time they intervened they left with a black eye and broken nose, shrugging for you to sort it out yourselves. 
A door slammed shut, you let out a sigh of relief. 
At least he wasn’t a cuddler. 
You climbed out of bed, tip-toeing to your door to take a peek of whatever slut found her way into his room this evening. The special lady was a new cinderella every fucking week, he didn’t even try to know their names. You heard him admit it once in class to his friends, saying he called them all ‘baby’ so he wouldn’t have to learn. 
You peeked out the door, blinking from the harsh fluorescent lighting of your dingy dorm halls. The walls were a screaming white, yellowing from years of shoddy cleaning. You tried to clean your room when you first came to school, but it was too disgusting. 
A non-smoking dorm, ha. Everyone smoked, especially your neighbor. 
“Shouldn’t you be in bed creeper?” 
You jumped at his voice, exhaling harshly through your nose. You steeled your features, caught red-handed looking for his latest prey. Crossing your arms defensively, not that there was anything to hide. You were in your ratty pj’s, they were on sale at Old Navy a few years ago and you never threw them away even though they barely fit anymore. 
“If you’re so interested in being a cuck,” he grinned at you, flashing his crooked teeth, “I would love to have you over for an encore, I’m sure you’d love to watch me in action.” 
“Buzz off, Ren.” 
“Ooo, angry tonight,” he smirked, now stepping out of his door frame. You choked a little at his appearance, no shirt on, basketball shorts barely hanging off his hips. Dangerously low, seriously, if he took one wrong move they would be on the floor. His chest was covered in fresh scratch marks, no doubt from his latest victim, a sheen of sweat glistening under the lights. 
Fuck, he was good-looking. 
But he was terrible. 
“Ahem,” he cleared his throat, daring you to stare back at him. 
You gulped, caught again. You were better than that, you were just tired from being kept up since ten with his version of ‘love-making’. 
“My eyes are up here cupcake,” he stepped forward. Pushing you back into your doorframe, almost inside your sanctuary. “If you ever decide you want to break your vow of chastity, I’m right next door.” 
“Step away from me, Kylo.” 
He cocked his brow, “I love when you’re mean, come on. Let’s see if kitty has claws.” 
You bared your teeth, fists balling under your underarms, “Not even if you were the last man on Earth.” 
He shrugged, backing away from you. 
“Deal, bitch.” 
You moved to shut your door on him, “Go away.” 
“See you in class, bright and early.” 
------ 
When you imagined leaving for college, it was different. 
Saying goodbye to your parents, packing your car with whatever small valuables you owned. Determined to make a name for yourself all the way across the country, no friends or family, truly on your own. You imagined everything would be different, the dorm would be filled with new and friendly faces. 
RA’s greeting you as you parked outside, giving you a tour and maybe a group lunch with all your floormates. Getting to know each other, maybe even going to some new-student orientation event they planned for the newbies. 
Classes were smooth, acing all your major requirements. Professors were kind and ready to help you at any moment, letting your artistic vision flow through your body every morning with your 8 AM yoga class. 
But no. 
Instead, you registered late. 
Your classes all at the worst times, bright and early. 
Second rate dorm, COED even… smelly dudes between your single bedroom which would be better defined as a broom closet. Burping and fucking on both sides of you while you tried to study. Your major requirement classes were boring and filled with pretentious art students who thought they were the next Picasso. 
Professors didn’t care if you lived or died, only focusing on the bell schedule because they couldn’t control what the freshmen did in their classes. 
Your options for clubs were limited, either join a sport or a cult. 
And worst of all. 
Kylo Ren. 
He was your neighbor, signed up late just like you. You actually arrived at the same time, he pushed you down on your ass in the lobby so he could be checked in first. Calling you a clumsy bitch, only for you both to be handed keys to the same floor. Right next to each other, sharing a flimsy wall. 
On top of that, he was an art major like you. 
And since he registered late, he was in almost every class. 
Even yoga! 
He took your mat the first day, leaving you in tears in the hallway. He apologized afterward, handing it back to you before storming off to be with his beefy upper-class friends. Any moment he could, Ren would humiliate you. Trying to push your buttons, whistling at you when you had to cross the hallway to the showers. Tripping you when you had your hands full, making fun of you for hanging out with your sparse group of friends. 
And when he found out you were annoyed with him making noise, he latched onto it. 
One week he decided to recite the entire Phantom of the Opera, just because you mentioned in class that you loved that play. 
He did every part, even the musical scores, you could’ve sworn he did it with a megaphone on the wall, just to spite you. 
Your parents told you ‘he just likes you, he’s a boy.’ 
No! 
That’s not how people express feelings, at least not healthy people. 
Your alarm clock blared on your nightstand, you didn’t sleep so it didn’t bother you. Letting out a heavy sigh of defeat, Ren ruined another night for you, a night you’d never get back. Of precious, precious sleep that you desperately deserved. 
Slipping on some plum leggings and a sports bra. No one gave a fuck about your outfit in your early morning class, as long as you went with clothes on. You popped on your headphones, trying to drone out the noise of Ren’s music through the wall. He liked to blast some god-awful music every morning. 
Today, it was an old Black Veil Brides album! 
You made it out of the dining hall, snatching a muffin for breakfast. Smiling at some guys you knew, waving at your friend Rose as you stormed off to the gym. The cold chill of Winter biting at your nose, it was too cold to not wear a full outfit. But there was no time, with Ren keeping you up all night and classes back to back, you didn’t have time to fuck around with dressing up. 
Ren ran in after you, laughing with his friends. Big nose all red from the frost, his hair looked frozen to his scalp, probably showered beforehand. You rolled out your mat, trying to stretch while he bragged about the pussy he got last night. Making a big show of your complaining, saying you were desperate to fuck him based on your whining. 
You rolled your eyes when he planted next to you, “Good morning, you ran out in a hurry.” 
“I didn’t want to be late,” you sneered, not giving him the time of day, still stretching your back into child's-pose. 
“How are we supposed to walk together if you run away from me, cupcake?” 
You scoffed, shooting him an icy glare. Despite him grinning at you like the happiest man on Earth, god, you needed to stop giving him a reaction. That would shut him up if you didn’t give him the attention he is clearly lacking from his parental figures. 
“Good morning class,” your teacher greeted you calmly, “I hope you’re all doing well. As you all know, this next week is finals week, I’m offering makeup classes to those of you who need to make up some credit hours. We are also hosting some meditation if you need time to relax between classes.” 
Next to you, Ren leaned towards your mat, setting his hand right behind your back. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know he was hovering. Ready to devour you like a piece of meat.
“Hey,” he chuckled. 
You stayed quiet, pushing back into his arm so he would move. Ren stayed put, purring in your ear, “Did you sleep well?” 
“Move off my mat, Ren.” 
He smirked down at you, “You seem stressed, do you want me to help by fucking your brains out.” 
You shot off your mat, effectively knocking him onto his back. Laughing loudly in a relatively silent room of students trying to center themselves. He grinned from the floor, hands up in the air in defense, “I’m just offering to help you, Jesus!” 
“Just,” you pointed in his face, hair falling out of your ponytail. Everyone was staring at you, even your instructor. Shocked you were yelling, you barely spoke in class, at the scariest person in your class. 
“Just, leave me alone.” 
------
Ren avoided you for the rest of the week, mostly. 
Still had his nightly fuck-more subdued though, you had on noise-canceling headphones to try and focus on studying. There were still so many classes to get to, and you wouldn’t be finished until the day before Winter break… you were desperate to get this over with. 
You missed your family, the plane ticket itself cost you a whole month of meals. 
Of course, you would do fine in your classes, it was just the motivation to get there. Every morning you glared at Ren when he greeted you in yoga, still standing next to you like a menacing shadow. 
This morning was no different, only you skipped class to study in the library. Bundled up in your winter coat, long black scarf, hair in a lazy braid, and thermal leggings on. The wind had picked up last night, bringing on an ice storm that wasn’t expected until late next week. You walked on treacherous sidewalks, dodging all the other students who were seeking the warmth of the library. 
You settled inside, sprawling your books and laptop on an old desk. Grabbing out a few sketch pads so you could finish up some pieces that were due in a couple hours. Most of your finals in art were ‘unconventional’ which meant the professor wanted to see what you were motivated to work on during the year. 
For yours, you had decided to draw the people you saw on campus. 
Studying their faces, mannerisms, languages while they were in an organic environment. It was a great piece, and one of your professors was very interested in showcasing it in a show. You were proud, it wasn’t large but it was important for you and you wanted it to be perfect before turning it in. 
Your pastels were spread out, fingertips smudged and stained from charcoal, a few lines on your face and brow from forgetting about the streaks. There was this one person you couldn’t finish, it was one of your friends from last week. She was laughing and holding a drink, the expression wide and full of emotion but it was hard for you to capture without her being there. 
But you steeled yourself, you weren’t leaving this spot until you finished her. 
“You smudged that dude's face,” a low voice rumbled behind you. A finger pointing down at the top left corner, “Stop-don’t touch it.” 
You moved to swat the hand away, not wanting some random guy to ruin your piece with their grubby fingers. Recentering yourself, he wasn’t smudged, he was just in the corner so it looked like it wasn’t finished… what did he know, anyway? 
“You didn’t draw me?” 
Now you stopped, why you didn’t recognize the timbre of his voice was ridiculous. 
You let out a long sigh, “Please, don’t touch the canvas, Kylo. It’s not ready, yet.” 
The chair that housed your backpack slid out next to you, your things tossed on the ground carelessly before Ren sat. You scooted away from him, he smelled like he just showered. Judging by his wet hair you were probably right… “What are you doing?” 
He shrugged, fiddling with one of your notebooks. Flipping through pages carelessly, “I don’t know-you weren’t in yoga so.” 
“So,” you gave him a weird look, “You stalked me to the library?” 
“There’s no reason to go to yoga if I can’t bother you,” he flashed a smile, dropping it slightly when he saw you weren’t playing back with him. 
Silence fell over you both, the only noises the heat kicking in around the scuffling of boots and shoes to face the weather again. 
“I like your piece,” he gestured to your work, “For drawing, right?” 
You nodded stiffly, not enjoying his friendly tone. Like he wasn’t your demon neighbor who made it his job to annoy you and had for the past four months of your life. Ren shifted again, now leaning on the table with his cheek resting on his forearm. Looking at you with wide eyes, you never took the time to look at his face. 
He had very large eyes that betrayed his emotions. Swimming with flecks of auburn, gold, and some streaks of green, blinking slowly as he studied your canvas. You looked away from him, trying to ignore the urge to draw them, how his long lashes rivaled your own. How his skin was freckled with beauty marks, creases from frowning lined his forehead and nose. You could even make out his stubble, some pieces he must’ve missed the last time he shaved. 
You went back to drawing, no longer focusing on it. Just trying to understand what was happening, your tormentor was a foot away from you. Breathing calmly like a cat laying in a patch of sun. Hunched over the edge, torso too long to rest like a normally proportioned human being, had he always been this big? 
“Wanna get coffee before class?” 
“Huh?” 
You blinked slowly, not registering that he spoke to you. 
Ren leaned off, letting out a big yawn and scratching the back of his neck. 
Yes, definitely a cat. 
“Do you want to get coffee,” he stared blankly, “Before we head to English?” 
You looked down at your mess, then back up at him. Shaking your head softly, voice quiet as a mouse, “No-thank you.” 
He exhaled harshly, “I’m not gonna burn you with it, it’s just coffee.” 
“No, I’m fine,” you said firmer, “I wanna work on this some more.” 
Ren stayed still, probably trying to think of a way to get you to agree with him. You had known him long enough to know he doesn’t like people disagreeing with him. Didn’t have to be a college graduate to see that the man had issues with control, hence terrorizing you all semester. You didn’t want to offer him an olive branch, because he was just doing it as a joke. Probably, waiting until you were calm around him to do something cruel. 
You went back to drawing, listening to him get up and leave you. Mumbling something under his breath about ‘trying to be nice’ before walking out. You shook off the awkwardness, not willing to break down and let him do something nice for you, just because he didn’t ruin your final piece didn’t mean he wouldn’t do something in the future. 
The day was still young. 
------
Oddly enough, Ren didn’t bother you that evening. 
Not even a door slam! 
You almost thought he was dead, but you saw him in the hallway when you were walking to the bathroom. Wrapped in your robe, caddy in hand, he didn’t whistle or try to touch your ass like he normally did. Just a stale smile before closing himself back in his room. 
Not to waste the precious quiet, you went to work packing your bags for your trip tomorrow. Deciding to do a quick load of laundry, your hall was almost empty, so no one would be down there while you waited. 
Piling up your hamper, you threw your pj's and slippers on. Remembering to grab a blanket and your laptop so you could hang out down there while you waited. 
Your friends back home were all excited to see you, ready to hear all about your time away. The boys you met, friends you made, classes, all that. So excited to get home and see your cat, Gremlin, he was all alone without you. Your mom sent you pictures earlier of him curled in your blankets, saying that he knew you were coming home soon. 
Maybe next Fall you could get an apartment, you didn’t want to leave him for another year. 
A washing machine door slammed shut next to you, causing you to jump from your perch atop your own. Faced with Ren, who was doing his laundry in his pjs, or his version of pjs. Giving you another tight-lipped smile before leaning against the far wall. Yawning loudly before sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. 
You ignored him, turning back to your laptop that was playing a crime documentary. Texting some friends to keep your mind from wandering to Ren and why he was in such a mood. 
“Are you leaving tomorrow?” Ren called from his wall. 
You pretended to not hear him, refocusing on the documentary, there was something very interesting happening and you weren’t about to miss how they found the killer's shoe prints in the mud just because Ren was trying to talk to you. 
Then something was thrown at you, and it smelled awful. 
“Oh-my-god!” 
You shot off the washing machine, throwing down the offending garment. Ren was laughing loudly, “Chill out! It was just an old shirt!” 
“How old was it?!” 
He smiled at you from the ground, propping an elbow on his kneecap. One leg stretched out on the tile, you tried to regain a sense of calm, he was just messing with you again. Just take some deep breaths… in-out-in
“Are you leaving tomorrow, after our final?” 
You let out your deep breath, sitting back on the washer. “Yeah,” you paused your show since mister meanie wanted to have a tea party. “I have to get to the airport right after.” 
He hummed, “Same.” 
The washer beeped loudly, echoing in the otherwise empty room. Ren watched you hop off, fixing your shorts which definitely rode up too much. Trying to not flash him your underwear as you bent to move your clothes to a dryer. You cursed when a sock fell from your pile, great.  
“How come we’ve never fucked?” 
Now all your clothes were on the floor. 
Along with Ren, who was staring at you like you were an art exhibit. 
You dragged your clothes back to the washer. There was no way you were finishing now that they touched the dirty floor, no one cleaned down here and just because it looked clean didn’t mean-
A whistle, “You good over there?” 
“Yup.” 
“Okay,” you heard him stretch, popping his joints as he lifted off the floor. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck as he closed in. Almost touching you, no escape, “As I was saying, how come you’ve never let me steal your virginity?” 
You scoffed, “I am not a virgin.” 
Ren pressed into you, pushing you against the washer now. Grinding his hips into your own, you squirmed, trying to dispel every fantasy flooding your brain. Every night you spent listening to him through the wall, imagining just once that it was you. If he weren’t such a monster, you would have gladly laid on your back and let him do whatever he wanted. 
“Nothing?” 
You took a deep breath, placing both palms on the top of the washer. Biting your lip as you silently pleaded for him to let you go, but also continue. You could smell his cologne from this close, how it complimented him so well. Mixing in with his dark aura, you wanted nothing more than to spin around and…
Soon you were doing just that, but not on your own violation. 
Ren had his hands grasping your hips, thumbs slipping under the fabric of your t-shirt to caress your soft skin. Lips capturing your own, you froze in his hold. Unsure of what to do, a part of you wanted to scream and smack him, but the other part loved the smell of his toothpaste. 
He relaxed when you relaxed, your lips still awkwardly locked together. Not opening and allowing for more, but not moving away either. You stared at him, startled to see him looking back at you. Pulling back slightly, you watched his face chase yours. Bringing your lips together a few more times, kissing at the seam. 
You felt his tongue flick for entry, trying to pry your mouth open so he could explore. When you didn’t move he finally huffed in annoyance, “I know it’s your first kiss, but you’re supposed to open your mouth.” 
You groaned, bringing both hands to cradle his cheeks. There was no way he was going to make fun of you, he initiated this so. 
Ren made a muffled noise when you pressed your lips back together. Probably of shock and surprise, because, no. This was not your first kiss, not even your fourth or fifth kiss. Working your tongue skillfully into his mouth, you moaned softly at his taste. Just like you imagined… not that you put much stock into this but… it was wonderful. 
Bringing your fingers to the nape of his neck, tugging on his dark brown hair. Just like you always wanted to, whenever he walked past you with it tied in a bun you dreamt of tearing through it. Ren returned your affection in kind, his left hand moving to the small of your back. Fingers dancing under the waistband of your pajama bottoms. 
You heard him swear when he felt the lace underneath, nestled between your cheeks. Ren slid a hand over the globes of your ass, moving his hips in time with his tongue. Tasting every inch of your mouth, even growling in approval when you sunk your teeth into his bottom lip. 
Petting and groping each other against the washing machines, the sound of you swapping spit barely heard over the rumble of your clothes. Ren had gotten sick of grinding against your hip bone, pulling away from you for a moment. Shushing your pathetic whimpers, he hooked the hand not cupping your ass behind your left knee. 
Hiking it over his hip, opening your legs up. Allowing him to assault your center with his straining erection, oh you could picture it now. How easy it would be to just let him slip inside you. 
Right here, in the laundry room. 
*Beep* 
You pulled back roughly, barely able to unsuction your lips from Rens' own. A string of spit connecting your kiss-bitten lips, he looked at you with pleading eyes. Grinding himself against you harder, pulling a few soft mewls from your throat. 
“I need to switch my clothes,” you croaked.
He nodded, shakily setting your limb back on the floor and backing away. You watched through your own lust-filled state as he trembled. Walking back to his far wall, a hand cupping his cock through his sweats. Your throat clicked as you took in a much-needed breath, doing what you said you would. 
Setting them in the dryer, all the more aware of his eyes watching your every move. 
Not sparing him a glance when you sat back on the washer. 
Turning on your laptop once again to watch your crime documentary. 
Ignoring the throbbing between your legs, his deep breaths, and your shaking limbs. 
------
The TV’s at the airport all said the same thing, “Record snowfall this winter, right before the holidays! Experts say that we will be lucky to keep power until it passes. Our friends on the west coast are enjoying a white Christmas, while we’re stuck in the North Pole.” 
All flights have been grounded until further notice. 
Stuck. 
You could barely make it back to your dorm without crashing. 
Bursting into tears several times when you realized you wouldn’t be home until it was over. Wouldn't be able to safely leave your dorm room until it passed, leaving you utterly alone. 
You had emailed your RA letting him know your bad luck, he let the staff know you’d be there so they would have food and water running still. 
But other than that, this was your holiday. 
You slipped on the walk up to your room, sobbing loudly in the halls as you clutched your luggage. No going home, no seeing your friends or family, no Christmas dinner, no personal shower, no Gremlin to sleep on your face. 
Collapsing on your bed, curling yourself in the multitude of pillows and blankets that adorned it. The room had shitty heating, the entire building had shitty heating. The entire month of December you’d been freezing, and no amount of personal heaters could fix this kind of cold. 
You drifted off to sleep after crying for a few hours, letting your parents know what was happening. Setting alerts for earlier flights, anything you could do to get home. You were so tired in fact, that you slept through a power outage. Leaving the entire building to shut down, no backup generators. 
And no heat. 
It wasn’t until you felt yourself being lifted that you woke up to the commotion. 
Squirming in the kidnappers' arms, limbs aching from freezing for a time in your bedroom. The window must’ve cracked open because it was much colder than when you arrived. Your attacker didn’t let you go, growling in your ear to be still. 
Dragging you out of the building, towards a car you didn’t notice when you pulled in. With the snow swirling all around, it was a miracle they could see their own vehicle. You were thrown in the front seat, followed by your luggage tossed in the back. You stayed still, every time you moved it hurt, hypothermia. Common in the New England storms if you were foolish enough to be outside… 
You about passed out when the driver's side door opened, Ren climbed in. Looking just as frozen as you, slamming the door shut and mumbling something as he started his car. You could’ve cried when the engine turned, heat blasting between the both of you. 
“Hands,” his teeth chattered, holding his own out. He nodded for you to do the same, grasping your pink fingers between his own and blowing on them. “Power went out,” Ren took a shallow breath, “I was leaving and I saw your car. You were almost frozen to your bed, the window broke.” 
“Th-thank you-u-u.” 
Ren cringed at your fingers, slowly gaining back their normal color. “I tried to grab everything I could, like your backpack and luggage. But we can’t stay there, we’ll fucking freeze.” 
You nodded, tugging your hands away to curl into your chest. Thankful that Ren had enough sense to grab blankets, stuffing them in your lap from the backseat. You thought about grabbing your phone, but you could barely make a fist so it would do you no good. 
“My plane g-g-got ground-d-ed.” 
Ren shivered, nodding sharply, “Mine too, my mom got me a hotel room not far from here to stay until the storm passes. So, I’m taking us there.” 
“Okay.” 
You didn’t say anything else, not wanting to distract him from the treacherous roads. Thank god he had a Jeep, or else you would’ve died. You couldn’t see more than ten feet ahead, less than that when you were on the highway out of the city. 
Ren kept mumbling things like it’s okay, I’m sorry, I know it's cold, whenever you shivered and took in sharp breaths. You must’ve been out for a while, to get this bad. A quick look at the clock in his car said you’d been asleep for three hours, who knows what would’ve happened if he hadn’t noticed your car… 
He helped you out, more carried you, towards the check-in desk. Too worried you would pass out in the car if he left you for too long, the front desk lady was quick and sweet. Making sure to send up extra blankets and pillows to your suite. Ren had you walk up with him, so he wouldn’t have to carry you and the luggage on separate trips. 
You clutched his hand like a child, tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. But he was so warm, it’s all you could think about. All you wanted was to be warm, nodding blindly to whatever Ren said to do. 
Plug your phone in, check. 
Let him talk to your mom, check. 
Draw a bath for you, check. 
Climb in the bath with you, double-check. 
It wasn’t until you were defrosted in the clawfoot tub that you realized you were naked with him. 
Rens chest against your back, holding you like his life depended on it. Judging by his shaking, you both were probably suffering from acute hypothermia. You had been silent for so long your voice spooked him a little, “Thank you.” 
He hummed into your hair, which was sitting on top of your head in a messy bun. “Are you okay?” 
You nodded slowly, “Can we go lay down?” 
“Yeah,” Ren hastily got out of the tub, draining it and wrapping you in plush towels. You were still too cold to blush from your nakedness, not how you pictured this going. You imagined you would finally give into him on some drunken party night, barely remembering his reaction to seeing you nude. 
But now he had seen you half-frozen, forced to cradle you back to life. 
------
You squinted from your cocoon, greeted by a dimly lit room. 
One spare lamp on a dingy-looking nightstand, well it wasn’t terrible. It was better than your nightstand in your dorm room… where was your dorm room anyway? 
Something vibrated behind you, followed by a heavyweight sprawling against your back. 
You held your breath, you were in a hotel. 
With a stranger. 
“Shit,” you whispered. 
Okay, you could wiggle out of here. You took a moment to study the room, there was the lamp from before, and some curtains on a metal rod in the far corner. If you managed to get out without being detected you could knock out the assailant. 
“You smell so good.” 
More weight settled on you, now you were trapped. This bear was closing in, who knows what happened while you were asleep! All you could remember was falling asleep at your dorm after the upsetting trip to the airport, then being dragged away. 
Your fingers burning when you tried to use them, being shoved in a car… 
Kylo. 
“Kylo?!” 
“Mhm.” 
You threw your arms up, successfully throwing him off you and the covers. Your limbs screaming at the sudden movement, you were still suffering from the cold. Next to you, curled in a ball, totally catlike, was Ren. 
A sleepy smile gracing his lips, hands curled under his cheek, and legs moving towards his chest, Like a child under a blanket. You gasped when you saw he was naked, “Fuck!” 
You were too. 
“What the fuck, Ren!?” 
“Stop yelling,” you watched his hand bat his nose like an animal, “Come back, you were warm.” 
You huffed, flailing off the bed in search of your bags. 
Memories flooding back to you, he took you here after saving your life. 
The bath. 
Ugh, bad time to remember your kiss the night before. 
Ren sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and blinking slowly. You flushed red when you looked between his legs, shit. How does he walk around with that? Is that why he has bad posture? You choked on your spit when he spread his legs out. 
Sprawling completely on the mattress like he wasn’t in a room with a stranger. 
“Snow hasn’t stopped,” Ren yawned, snapping a hand and pointing between his legs, “Come back.” 
“I’m not doing anything until you have clothes on.” 
He rolled his eyes, now looking you up and down. Focusing on your bare tits, swinging around with your erratic movements. You watched him lick his lips, wagging his eyebrows, “Come on, don’t you want to sit back on the bed?”
You shook your head, crouching down to your bag. Trying to not flash him more of your goods, but that didn’t work. Not with him leaning to the side of the bed to make a show of him peeping on you. 
A wolfish grin splitting his face, “You have a nice ass.” 
“Can you stop,” you huffed, tugging on some sweats you found. 
Ren made a pouting noise when you stood, pushing his bottom lip out while you threaded your arms through a t-shirt. You shivered a little-it was still freezing in the room. Probably from the weather, it sounded like it got worse… hopefully this place would keep power. 
You looked back at the bed, Ren was still manspreading. One of his large paws crawling towards his cock, watching you with the same smirk. He let out a soft sigh when he touched himself, eyes momentarily shutting in bliss. 
“Do you have to do that with me here?” 
He cracked an eye open, “Do you have to be that far away?” 
You scoffed, moving to the corner of the room. Shivering since you were near the window, you plopped down in the cheap armchair. Ignoring the sounds of his fist gliding along his cock, you tucked your feet under your body. Humming a tune to ignore the arousal growing between your legs, there was no way you were caving to him. 
What kind of man does that with a complete stranger present!? 
More importantly, why was it turning you on? 
“Come here,” he whistled, you spared a glance at him. Blushing profusely at the sight, his cock was now fully erect. Standing tall and proud, tip flushed almost purple from want. You quickly looked away, trying to swallow down the drool that gathered in your mouth. 
What would happen if you gave in? 
Not like it would hurt you… he looked so delicious. 
“If I come over there, what's gonna happen,” you whispered, determined to stay put.
With a deep breath, the mattress groaned under his weight, probably leaning back to get comfortable. He seemed to love you being there, watching him, or trying not to. Ren made a small non-committal scoff, “Whatever you want to happen, baby.” 
“Don’t call me that, you know my name.” 
“Meow.” 
Your head snapped towards him, met with his grin. “Come on-you really want me to do this by myself?” he waved his cock, fist tight around the base. You rolled your eyes, training your eyes to focus on the least attractive part about him. 
You were coming up empty, all you could stare at was his cock. 
The prominent vein along the underside thrumming in time with his heartbeat. You could practically feel it along your tongue, rigid and stiff. Slowly, you stood from the chair, met with a soft whine from Ren. Eying your hungrily as you sauntered over, you planted a knee in the mattress. 
Between his legs, which were spread obscenely wide, he licked his lips in anticipation. 
“If I help you, are you going to be nicer to me?” 
He nodded, chest taking in sharp breaths. You slowly leaned back on your heels, stripping your top off, despite him seeing you naked earlier. Surprised when he bit his bottom lip, watching you play with your tits, rolling them in the palm of your hand. Just to make him squirm a bit, “I’ll be nicer, whatever you want.” 
“I’m really cold still,” you spoke softly, making sure to lean in close enough to graze his lips with your own before pulling away, “Can you help warm me up?” 
“Yes,” Ren's hands shot out, kneading your flesh a few times. Debating to grasp your tits or the small of your waist, like a kid in a candy store. So many options, but you didn’t want to wait. If you were doing this, it would be about you.
“Eat me out.” 
He stilled, cocking a brow, “Excuse me?” 
“You heard me,” you exhaled on his neck, being sure to drag your kitty claws along his chest. Briefly grazing his nipples, savoring the way he gasped. “Eat me out, if you make me cum, I’ll let you fuck me. Like the desperate slut you are.” 
Ren scowled for a moment, nudging your face from his neck. Eyes dancing across your face before capturing your lips, moaning softly in your mouth, “I can make you cum so hard you’ll never want another man again.” 
You placed a soft kiss, rolling onto your back dramatically. Splaying your legs wide, “If that's true, why do you fuck a different girl every week?” 
He growled at you, actually growled. 
Hands no longer soft in their quest to memorize your skin, instead Ren pinned your legs hard enough for them to pop. Making you squeal from the stretch, “How fast do you think I can make you cum? Hm?” 
Before you could answer, he dove in. 
Lips wrapping around your clit and suckling fast, tongue flicking out every few seconds. You were already bucking up to meet him, but his firm hold kept you flush. While his tongue began to lap thick stripes along the seam of your pussy. Briefly hooking the tip into your entrance, both of you moaning when he tasted your wetness. 
“Shit-Kylo!” 
“Mm,” his voice vibrated against your clit, continuing his assault until you choked on your spit. You buried your fingers in his hair, keeping him in that right spot. “I’m so fucking close,” you cried out, pleading his name over and over and over. 
“You know,” he popped off, smacking his lips that were glistening with your cum, “I’d rather you cum on my cock.” 
“Wait-” 
Ren flipped you onto your chest, yanking your hips into the air. You barely had time to take a breath before he shoved his cock inside you. His breath hitched as he sank to the hilt, you groaned at the stretch. Now this, this you could get used to.
He pulled out slowly, you heard him swear under his breath. Leaving just the tip of his cock inside and ramming his hips into yours. Pulling a loud scream from your lungs, Ren chuckled at that. Pumping his cock at a rough pace, “Shh-you’re going to upset our neighbors.” 
You huffed, cheap shot, angling your hips a little so his cock would rub up against your front wall. Moaning when he picked up the pace, skin slapping skin. Ren leaned over your form, planting a hand on the headboard to keep it from knocking. You weakly lifted your head, clenching at the sight of his knuckles turning white. 
All you could do was sit and take it, revealing in the bliss you’d denied yourself for four months. 
-------
Ren dropped you both off at the airport two days later. 
You spent three days together, fucking each other's brains out. 
Choking on his cock while he was brushing his teeth, eating you out while you read through your newsfeed. Bouncing on his cock while he fed you breakfast, you didn’t need to change clothes the entire vacation. 
But you wanted to go home and were thankful for the storm ending so you could head home. It was a little awkward, Ren wasn’t very excited about the snow stopping. It felt like he was trying to stall you leaving but reluctantly listened to your desire to fly home. 
“Got everything?” he mumbled, hitching his backpack over his shoulder. The two of you were waiting in the TSA line, about to part ways to head home. You nodded, giving him a tight smile before stepping up on your own. 
Ignoring the feeling of his eyes on the back of your head. 
Both of you stood awkwardly after making it through, “Well-my gates over here,” you pointed behind you. Ren hummed in acknowledgment, kicking at the ground instead of looking at you. 
“Thanks for letting me crash with you,” you tried again, still nothing. 
You groaned, spinning on your heel. Back to being an asshole, you were kicking yourself for thinking he would be nicer. All he wanted was some pussy, and you willingly gave into him when you should’ve remained strong. 
Your parents picked you up back at home, lots of tears and laughs were shared. Thankful that you made it home without freezing, your mom was grateful for your friend who saved your life. She wanted to call him and tell him how much she appreciated it but you shrugged it off, he was just being nice. He wasn’t your boyfriend or anything, you left out the part that he was the neighbor you always complained about. 
Collapsing on your bed felt surreal like you would wake up and be back in the hotel room at any moment. It was odd not sleeping next to him, you had grown accustomed to his clingy arms. Circling you in the middle of the night when he thought you were dead asleep, smelling your hair before tucking you into his naked chest. 
You tossed and turned all night, groaning when you were woken by your siblings to get up the next morning. Barely sleeping a wink, you resolved to take a nap later to try and not spoil your trip back home. 
At breakfast, your mom yelled at you from the kitchen. 
“Hey hon, someone’s calling you!” 
“Just answer it,” you groaned through a mouthful of cereal. Briefly hearing your mother answer in a typical chipper tone, stalling mid-sentence before she yelled again, “It’s someone named Kyle?” 
Shit, you shot to the kitchen. 
Snatching the phone and escaping to the living room where no one was hiding. 
“Kylo?” 
Hey, didn’t think you’d answer.
“How’d you get my number?” 
Took it while you were napping the other day, I knew you wouldn’t give it to me willingly.
You rolled your eyes, “Alright creeper, what’s up?” 
Just wanted to talk or whatever, felt weird not to. 
Silence. 
Are you gonna let me buy you coffee when we are back?
“You were being serious about that?” 
A scoff. 
Yeah-or we could just fuck again if that’s all you want from this. 
“Coffee sounds good.” 
Cool. Cool. 
It’s a date. 
-------
TAGGING: @finn-ray-nal-beads @onlykyloscenes @candycanes19 @historyandfandoms50 @caelum-phyriina-vermillon @ghoulian13 @mrs-kylo-ren @millenialcatlady @relationshipwithmybed @dancingmicrobes @wayward-rose  @contesa-lui-alucard @daydreamsofren @insufferablelust @ohdamnadamm @mariesackler @caillea @safarigirlsp @jalexunderthestars @shesakillerkween @glassythoughts @zimmermansbrat @not-the-teen-witch @jynzandtonic @roanniom @celestiasin @glassbxttless @cornmousequeen @driversmutbucket @blowthatpieceofjunk
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ktheist · 4 years
Text
finale — show me yours & i’ll show you mine
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➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung
➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.
➙ word. 2.1k
➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |
➙ synopsis. 
“show me yours and i’ll show you mine.”
x
“be nice," taehyung mouths across from you as he sits next to mina.
the red handprints on his cheeks becoming more apparent with each passing minute. it was half-believable to say taehyung fell face first in the snow, got stuck there for more than two minutes and voila, sported a red face upon your return to the kim’s.
but now, you’re just lucky no one’s pointing out the very obvious palm shaped mark on his pudgy cheeks as he stuffs his face with food.
“oh, mina, do you have any plans tomorrow? you could stay over and spend christmas morning with us," mrs kim asks as she passes the bowl of the roasted potatoes seokjin’s been boasting about.
“o-oh,” the brunette stammers, holding the fork with both hands as if citing a prayer of hope, “no, i couldn’t intrude on you any longer.”
“no such thing, we’re all family here.” mrs kim waves a dismissive hand and even that brief gesture feels warm, “___’s mother and i have known your mother since we were kids and i watch you two grow up with my boys - you’re basically  daughters i never had,” she shoots you a smile, eyes crinkling in the corners.
not seeing the remark coming, you end up almost choking on the mushroom soup you’re just in the middle of enjoying.
“i can’t say i’d love to have tae as a sibling but here we are,” you jest, half-heartedly while laughter erupts from everyone at the table.
if there’s a god, please don’t let mrs kim find out i fucked her oldest son.
“i heard yuukal co is interested in your flower arrangements and wanna buy exclusive rights to have you deliver them to the company whenever they have an event lined up?” namjoon chirps up, dimples digging into his cheek as he digs into his 
“the secretary of yuukal co was an acquaintance of mine in college, that’s probably why.” the brunette says shyly, pushing her hair to the back of her ear.
“so, you’re not planning on going back to college?” 
but it’s your voice that makes her blink once and stare at you like you’re some tricky math question.
“what- oh,” she shakes her head, as if shaking away the trance that delayed her response, “i don’t know, my major has nothing to do with what i want to do so i’m thinking of taking another year off.”
you nod casually. understandingly. “i’m sure the college has plenty of spots for people who actually wants to be there, i guess.”
it’s not a new low. but it’s a kind of low you never usually stoop to.
no one seems to notice though, as mina laughs. obviously uncomfortable by your remark, “haha yeah.”
“taehyung got offered a job at the company he interned in last year,” with a smack on the aforementioned boy’s back, seokjin proudly announces.
and just like that, taehyung takes the spotlight to himself.
“oh my god, that’s wonderful news. kim taehyung, when were you going to tell us?” mrs. kim is the first to say something, eyes brimming with anticipation as she looks at him, waiting for him to tell everyone at the table more about it.
but the fact of the matter is, kim taehyung is torn between working a nine-to-five, subsequently making his parents proud or going professional as a full time gamer.
he breathes out an ‘uh...’ before his lips curl into a forced smile.
“surprise?”
x
some time after dinner, you end up drinking and playing card games. mrs kim already went to bed and it's a hour past midnight and all four of your find yourselves in your house to not disturb the kim couples.
the grinch is playing in the background because you, taehyung and mina won against namjoon and seokjin who wanted to watch frozen.
“frozen is so unchristmasy,” taehyung complained.
though, at one point, you did backtrack a little - only a teensy bit - and sided with seokjin who looked like he just won a lottery when you casually say, “i mean frozen’s got that wintry feeling and christmas is in-”
“oh girl, not you choosing a man over your best friend,” taehyung started tickling your sides as giggles erupted from your lips while trying to beg for forgiveness.
 “okay! okay! i’m grinch team all the way!”
“is that allowed? yah! you can’t say that after converting to team frozen!” seokjin’s rebuttal sounded every bit casual.
in retrospect, him joining taehyung’s ticklish assault would have felt out of character had you not fucked behind taehyung’s back nor kissed like you were star crossed lovers just hours ago.
“two against one! not fair! seokjin- ah- hahahaha!” 
one good thing came out of it though: you ended up sitting next to seokjin. it made you a little too conscious of him - of his cologne, of his thigh that brushes against yours with every movement you make and pretend like it’s nothing and of the ghost of a touch of his pinky finger that lingers on your knee when he seemingly places a hand on his own knee. 
still, it’s the closest you could ever be in public and it’s enough to tell mina to back off.
she doesn’t seem to notice but her compliments are equally distributed to everyone in the room. she seems to be the giggly drunk. giggling at every single thing everyone say.
somewhere deep in your heart, you feel the guilt gnawing because of your uncalled for hostility.
“i better get home,” she starts to stand at 3:07 am and you wave a dismissive hand, “no, it’s so late. stay over. please. you promised to make me your special hot chocolate in the morning.”
she objects at first like she turned down mrs kim’s invitation to spend christmas morning at the kim’s. and that’s how you know your views have been blinded with jealousy to see mina for who she is - a cute, lovable girl who’d be the heroine of every romance novel there is.
“oh thank you, thank you!” her arms flail around before they wrap around you in a drunken hug.
you laugh, hugging back.
x
the memories of how you huddled together like children and fell asleep in the living room, is hazy but when you wake up - the time on your screen displaying a 6 something am - you find a blanket draped over your body.
the light from the kitchen pours over the living room but not enough to wake the slumbering bodies there.
seokjin shoots you a smile when he sees you ambling over to the dining table with hair pointing in every direction, eyes squinting trying to block out the light while holding the blanket around your shoulders.
“you’re working? jinnie, it’s christmas,” you whine, head resting on his shoulder, feeling your heartbeat skip at the small contact.
he chuckles, bumping his cheek against your head before you hear the sound the keyboard again.
you stay like that, blanket curled around your body, seokjin typing away at his laptop.
that is, until his velvet voice cuts through the silence.
“so... i reckon that red handprint on tae’s cheek isn’t because he fell face first in snow.”
“it was because i slapped him in the face,” you wave your injured hand that’s now wrapped with a panda printed band aid instead of the duck ones seokjin used in the beginning.
he takes your hand, making sure not to apply too much pressure on the injury and kisses the top of your hand, “why would you do that?”
your cheeks warm at the gesture but you clear your throat, trying to play it cool, “because he told me we looked good together after all that shit he put us through.”
silence lulls in once again.
it feels like the longest you’ve ever gone with your heart palpitating inside your chest and unspoken words hovering over you but not quite reaching the who they’re supposed to reach.
“do we?” seokjin muses.
“do we... what?” you ask despite having an inkling of what he means.
“look good.” he turns to you, one arm on the table, thumb brushing against your pinky finger.
“i don’t know- we never even took selfies together.” you shrug.
“i think our selfies would look cute,” he pauses, naturally pouty lips curling into a smile, “so cute that the guys in your dm’s would be devastated to know that you’re dating me.”
“i can’t... do this,” the words slip out of your mouth like a waterfall like it’s bound to pour out of your heart through your mouth at some point, “because taehyung was... right. i don’t have a love language - even if i did, it’d be being jealous of every girl that talks to you. lashing out at those girls even though it’s completely understandable why they’d have heart eyes when they talk to you because you’re just that amazing... and... and... you like me? why?”
seokjin’s eyes look like someone personally plucked stars from the sky and trap them in those dark brown irises.
no- actually, he’s looking at you like you’re the star and he’s the moon that shines silver white rays just to have you notice him.
“who’s to say i don’t get jealous?” he cups your face, brows furrowing like you’re a math question without a solution and he’s going mad trying to figure you out, “i get so jealous at the thought of guys sliding into your dm’s, let alone make a pass on you but then i thought ‘if she’s not looking at me then i just have to try harder to make her notice me’ and i might or might not’ve reciprocated mina’s passes to make you jealous...”
you feel the corners of your lips tugging into a smile as you smack his chest lightly, “ass.”
that earns a chuckle from the man before he goes on, “but i’m not even sure what my love language is either, last i used it, i ended up getting dumped because apparently i’m too boring.”
“you’re not boring...” red flashes in your vision as you spit out the word, offended, “your dad jokes are bad but that’s what makes them so lovable. you’re so tall but you’re a literal walking teddy bear. you have biggest, kindest heart... and you’re so hung.”
something devious and prideful flashes across his eyes for the briefest moment before he asks ever so softly, “yeah?”
“yes.” you take his hands and grip them tightly, wishing the touch would convey your feelings.
“isn’t that kind of your love language?” his thumb feels callous against your skin as he rubs circles on the back of your hand. but that’s what makes this feels real - an affirmation that you’re not dreaming, “so... show me more... show yours and i’ll show you mine.”
you’d want to say you share a deep, passionate kiss to seal your promise for each other. but when you open your eyes - not knowing when you closed it - you’re staring at the white ceiling with neon starry stickers tacked up on it. 
and seokjin?
he’s nowhere to be found.
the morning air sends shivers down your spine as you pull your blanket over your head, trying to tune out taehyung’s voice.
but the universe seems set on kicking your sleepy ass of your bed when the door swings open with a bang! 
“get up! get up! it’s christmas!” the tall boy literally screams in your ears before hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potato and setting you down on the toilet in the bathroom with a “you better wash your face by the time i come back!”
you do as told.
eventually.
since the presents are all set under the christmas tree at the kim’s and you’re not looking to upload a christmas morning story in mismatched pj’s, you change into a cute totoro onesie.
mr and mrs kim got mina - she thanked you for letting her stay over last night even though you woke up to an empty house, she even has different clothes on than last night - new kits for the florist.
taehyung almost hugged you to death when he unwrapped his new ps5 that he’s been dying for.
namjoon got a new pair of gucci loafers from taehyung and booked an interrogation slot with their mother because-
“kim taehyung, where did you get all this money?”
you suspect he’s going to reveal his gaming channel to her where he got sponsors from to buy namjoon those loafers.
and seokjin gifted you with a heartshaped necklace as well as a new pc set for taehyung and a signed book of namjoon’s favorite writer that he’d been talking about for ages as well as an all expense paid trip for his parents to thailand.
“thanks for the necklace,” you lightly bump seokjin’s elbow as you come to stand next to him at the sink. he’s washing the mug he used for hot coffee.
he steals a glance at his family and mina in the living room. they’re laughing over taehyung having his head down, sitting on his calves like he’s asking for the forgiveness of a lifetime after confessing that he didn’t want to work a nine-to-five and wanted to go pro.
then his eyes find yours again. the glint in them makes your heart stop before he leans down, lips brushing yours ever so gently yet very seokjin-like.
you think your heart just burst as you freeze in your spot, staring up at the man with slightly parted lips and warm cheeks like a high school girl whose crush very obviously hinted he likes her back.
he raises a quizzical brow at your reaction before realization settles on his face and his lips curve into a smirk, “what? did you think last night was all a dream?”
x
taglist.  @aretha170 @scalubera @ambersaesthetics @heyjiminnie @hyuck-me @fanfuckingfic @fangurl-ontgeside @bri-mal @waves-and-woods @rjsmochii​ @kimmieloveswho​
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