#small thing I did in between my last commissions I’m trying to finish up

[timeworncalamity]

Ą̶̡̡̘͍̹̫̠͈̣̭̩̣̱̻̣̪͓̪͔̤̮͈̹͔̹͓̣̭͉̰͈̗̳̜̖̝̋̓̋̏͛̀͋̀r̵̢̧̛̪̦̼͍͓̪̺̦̘̩̳̘̮̯̩͔͚̙͙̣͖̜̙̥̪̗̣͕͌̔͊̔̒̐̈́̋͒̈́̚͘͜͠͝ͅͅe̷̳̪̜͈̭̭͓͖̲̖̗̽̄̃̆̿͂̈́̋̐̎́͊͆͗͒̎̀͛̐́̃̀̕̚͘ ̸̢̡̧̯͕̖̞̟̫͖̰̞̯̀̉̃̇͆̈́̒̀̆̔̒̀͌͒́̄̊̃̆̎͋̾̿͘̚̚͝ͅy̴̨̨̨̛̛͙̪̦̙̤̺̝͉̠͎̠͍̘̣̗̞̼̮̥͙͈̬͔͍̭͈̾̔͛͛́͛̉̀̓͒̿͐̀̌́̏̈́̓̾̽̈̽̈́͐̉̏́́̔̐̋͛̐̍̒̍͑̈́͘͘͜͠͠ò̶̢̨̘̥̮͚͓̖̯̹͎̰̠̱͔̹͕̠͍̜͚̥̪̻̠͇͉͍͚̰͐͛̏̓̅ͅͅȗ̷̧͚̦͇̲͐̅̾̇̉̌̀̎̍̉̅͌́̔̈́̓͊̌͐̉̾͗̄̈́͘ ̵̨̡̨̛̛̝̬̳̼͎̱̘̜̼̜̙͎̦̜͉̗̪̺̝̮͈̜̼̺͚̹̰͙͉̤͚̟̲̯̼̦̲̻̝͍̥̺̻̭͇̌̀͌͑̄̂̈́́̓̾̄̋̏̈̍ͅá̷̛̬̃̊̏́͋̾̆̑̀̄́̎̚͘͘̚̚͝f̶̠̩̯͔͖̖̬̝̼̦̒̉͆̿̄͋̃̌̇̇͂̇̈́̈́̀̌̉͌̃͘r̸̡̡̧̢̲̣̠̻̟̘̞̖̻̠͓̞̲̙̝̗̜̳͕̰̞͖̟̥͕͈̦̼̟̲̥̩̖̪̙̜̩̾̉͂̀͘͠ạ̷̢͍̥̜̟̝̫̝̺̭̟͔̺̭͎̙̱͙͔̭̝̪̭̰̔̉̉̆̋̀̍̔͌͛̎̌͌̈́̓̏́͊ͅį̷̣͇͉̫̗͔͙͕̞͕͙̱̭̗͎̳͔̼̖͇̻̬̩͚̝̻̇̈̾̈͌́̾̈́͒̑̉͌̌̂̉̅̆̾͊̐̓̐̔̑̓́̀͗̀͐̓̊̃͑̍̕̕͘͜͜͠ḑ̸̛̛̛̛͚̻̝̟̣͚͕͎͖̼̹̲̞̺̥͔̲̹̟̝̣̤̙̜̮̳̻̤͉̦̖͙̪̺̼̩̭͚̟̘̜̊̂̒͂̄͗̑͐̒̓̔̾̒͋̇̄͋̄̎͊̍̒̄̏͋́̎̈͂̆̈́̐̈́̉̏̑͐̿̚͜͝͠?̶̢̨̧̰̠̹͇͚͉̞͚̻̦͚̪̜̭̘̖̩̣͈̪̥͖̰͖͚͉̟̦͉̣̭̼͖͈͇͓͎̹̫̪̯̥͚͎̥̂̓̾͝

#valcore #valentine #cult leader for fun :) #don’t worry they are having a great time it’s fine….. #my art #my oc #small thing I did in between my last commissions I’m trying to finish up #digital art

[shivunin]

Two of Hearts

I meant to post this with the full piece by @ndostairlyrium but sadly I didn't finish it in time to post them together--regardless, here it is now! (the larger version is here. Cannot recommend commissioning her enough; she is a delight of a human being!)

(Fenris/Maria Hawke | 1,541 Words | CW: alcohol)

“Belt off, Hawke,” Varric said the moment she and Fenris stepped into the dwarf’s room in the Hanged Man. “Cloak, too.”

Hawke paused mid-step, one foot through the door and the other on the threshold. Fenris caught himself just before he would have run into her.

“Andraste’s eyebrows, Varric—if you wanted me naked, you ought to’ve asked years ago. I’m afraid my heart belongs to another now,” she sighed. “What a terrible shame for you.”

The room was better-lit than the larger dining room downstairs. It was often so on the nights they came for cards, as if Varric was trying to beat back the Kirkwall night outside. The firelight caught in the curls of Hawke’s hair, left loose today for they’d hardly left her manor before they’d come here. When she tilted her head, Fenris saw the faint curl of a dimple in her cheek. Trying not to smile and failing; a night with Hawke when she was feeling capricious could be dangerous, but he could not find it in himself to feel concerned. He knew very well what had put her in such a good mood, after all. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Varric rolled his eyes.  “Off, Hawke.  If you want to sneak in that extra deck of yours, it’ll have to be some other night.”

“I am outraged,” Hawke said, unclasping her cloak and tossing it in the general direction of a cabinet. It slid to the ground with a soft thud. “Outraged, I say!”

“Oh, stow it,” Isabela said. She sat at the end of the table nearest Varric, her face dissatisfied. “He already took both of my boots, if you can imagine. If I’ve got to suffer, then so do you, Hawke. This floor is like ice.”

“There’s a carpet, Bela,” Varric said, shuffling his own deck. “Boots, too, Hawke.”

“And?” Isabela shot back. “The least you could do is lend a pair of socks.”

Hawke’s belt and boots were set aside, too, and she flounced to the table with visible indignation. Fenris, still standing in the doorway, watched her until she sat, shaking his head slightly. Hawke looked back at him and held out a hand. 

Dangerous. Fenris lifted a brow at her and crossed the room, setting the bottle of wine they’d taken from her cellar on the table. His fingers brushed against her outstretched palm while he climbed over the bench. In turn, she touched the small of his back lightly before turning to the cluster of glasses in the center of the table.

“Added more rules, have we?” she asked, sliding one glass to Fenris and taking another for herself. He lifted the corkscrew from the table and passed it to her in turn. 

“Just enforcing the usual ones,” Varric tilted the cards up until they shuffled downward again, then cut the deck. He waved half of it at Isabela and Hawke in turn. “I saw the two of you last time. If you can’t play nice, maybe someone has to make you.” 

Hawke gasped, still busily twisting the corkscrew. Fenris steadied the other end of the bottle. 

“Cheating at Wicked Grace is the point of playing Wicked Grace, as you well know,” she said, and the cork popped loose. “I cannot believe you are interfering with a time-honored tradition when you never even returned my second deck—”

“The one you intended to cheat with,” Varric said, tapping the cards back together again with a snap. 

“—oh, allegedly—I never did any such thing—”

“Can’t we just start playing?” Aveline asked from the other end of the table, looking between Hawke and Varric. Hawke poured Fenris’s glass of wine first, then her own. 

“—and why don’t Aveline and Fenris and Sebastian have to give up their belts or turn out their pockets, hm?” Hawke went on, glancing between the three of them. Aveline sighed heavily and took a long draught from her goblet. 

“Aveline never wins,” Varric told her. “If she’s cheating, she needs the practice.”

“I’ve no need to cheat,” Sebastian added calmly, accepting his cards when Varric slid them to him. “I can win well enough without it.”

Fenris snorted and took his own cards. Under the table, Hawke looped her stockinged ankle around his. 

“Why would I cheat?” he asked, wrapping his fingers around the stem of his glass. “Watching you try is more entertaining.”

“I am positively surrounded by spoilsports,” Hawke announced with an air of great tragedy. She accepted her own pile of cards with a sigh. “Where’s Merrill tonight?”

“Some holiday in the alienage,” Isabela said, shifting until her legs were crossed before her. “I told her I’d bring her regrets, but she said she’d be along eventually.”

While Isabela spoke, Hawke shifted on the bench beside Fenris, sitting back and bouncing her leg, then leaning forward again. He took a careful sip of his wine and glanced sidelong at her. Hawke ignored him and drank deeply from her own cup. 

“Well, go on, then,” she told Varric. “If we’re to be proper about this.” 

“One silver,” he replied, tossing a coin onto the table. “Hawke?” 

She set a coin of her own on the table (nobody seemed inclined to ask where she might have produced this from; Fenris, who’d felt the tug on his own belt pouch, said nothing). 

The round progressed. To the outside observer, Hawke might have seemed entirely engrossed in the round. Fenris knew better—but then, he could feel how close she sat on the bench, could feel the occasional brush of her fingers against his back or arm. She never demanded any show of affection from him before the others, for which he was grateful. What they had was for them, not for everybody else’s entertainment or speculation. 

Even so, she was still herself; he did not begrudge the small gestures she offered instead. She held his hand beneath the table sometimes, or sat so close to him that their legs pressed together. And sometimes, like tonight—

Fenris straightened and turned to look at her, narrowing his eyes. Hawke smiled winningly and rested her stack of cards face-down on the table—a stack of cards slightly thicker than it ought to have been. He reached for his glass of wine, shaking his head at her, and the dimple at her cheek deepened. 

“Whatever are you looking at me like that for, messere?” she asked in an undertone. 

“You know quite well.”

“Truly, I’ve no idea.” 

This time, he felt it when she tucked the card into his belt. Hawke tilted her head and rested her hand on his back for a moment. 

Ridiculous. Of late, he spent more than half his nights in her company and yet something in his chest still caught when she looked at him like that. 

“Hmm,” he said, because he couldn’t think of anything to say except her name. Hawke leaned closer and turned her face away from the others. 

“You did promise,” she whispered, “but if you’re having second thoughts…”

“No,” he said, because he had promised, “go on.” 

“Thank you, dearest,” she said, and leaned away again.

“Now, what are the two of you whispering about?” Isabela asked, peering at them over the lantern that rested between them on the table. Fenris lifted his wineglass and took a long drink, studying his cards. 

This was…most of a winning hand. He was certain he hadn’t been holding these cards before. He’d intended to fold when the round returned to him, in fact. 

“Something terribly boring,” Hawke told Isabela, still smiling. “You couldn’t possibly be interested.”

“Try me,” Isabela said. 

“Hawke?” Varric asked. 

Hawke lay her cards on the table face-up, not bothering to glance at them again. Fenris studied them briefly, though he’d already known what he would see. They were his cards, with an extra tucked beneath. She had traded her hand for his

“If you must know,” Hawke began, lifting her glass and gesturing broadly with it. It was fortunate that she’d drunk most of it or the two of them would certainly have been doused. “I was reminding him that we need to stop by the market tomorrow. I have been wanting to buy a new pair of boots, you see; the ones I have now pinch awfully and it is rather pleasant to be playing without them on. It is so hard to find a good pair of shoes these days, don’t you think? What I wouldn’t give for one of those fine sets from Antiva with all of the tooled leather and that embroidery that looks—”

“Alright, alright,” Isabela said, taking a bun from the table and rolling her eyes. “Go on then, Fenris.” 

“Raise,” he said, and set two coins on the table. 

Aveline groaned. 

Beside him, Hawke set her glass down. She’d finished the last sip of it and she was smiling to herself, gathering her cards into a neat stack. 

When Fenris rested his hand on the table again, his elbow nudged hers as if by accident. Beneath the table, she pressed her knee against his thigh. A thanks, offered and accepted. 

After the round ended (Fenris’s belt somewhat heavier for it), he did not turn again when he felt her hand at his back. He knew very well what she was doing—and he had promised, after all.

#fenhawke #fenris #fenris dragon age #maria hawke #femhawke #da2 #dragon age fic #shoutout to one of my favorite pieces of dragon age art ever though i am admittedly biased (thanks again ali! <3) #and a shoutout to my husband who has tolerated me loudly saying 'they're in love!' and pointing at this painting #every time he walks into the room

[clowncollectr]

Arknights - Everything between us, as it should be (Liang Xun / Lee) - Chapter 6

Rating: G

Word Count: 6058 (this chapter), 28397 (whole story)

Summary: It’s Liang Xun’s second time visiting Lungmen. The circumstances are much better compared to last time. There’s no rush. Familiar faces, new faces. More happy memories to join the old ones. Between him and Lee, things are finally as they should be.

AO3 Link

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

__________ Chapter 6: Lost and found

“Been awhile since I’ve seen you this troubled.”

The detective’s eyes glanced up. He tried to stare down his opponent, but it felt pretty ineffective when the person’s entire face was covered. He stretched his arms out and yawned.

“It’s nothing. I’m just tired. Aren’t you supposed to be telling me about the mission? Don’t let me distract you.”

“I didn’t stop because I was the one who was distracted.”

Lee made a ‘tsk’ sound to show his dissatisfaction at being caught. This person is really nice to talk to about most things. They catch on fast, meaning he didn’t have to explain much. It meant both of them could cover a large array of topics together in a short span of time. Really useful for doing business. But there were times when they caught on too fast, and unlike most people, they had a tendency to say all of their observations out loud.

In the end, he gave up and scratched the back of his head, both in defeat and annoyance.

“Fine, fine. Doesn’t matter. I did all my homework before coming here anyways, so don’t bother trying to lecture me.”

As if to prove his point, he pulled out a set of files from the inside of his coat and set them on the office desk.

“Calais-Blason, right? That’s where you want to go. You know, it wasn’t easy gathering intel on that troupe of yours without being put on someone’s hit list. I’m afraid I might have to charge you three dinners for this one, Doctor.”

The Doctor reached for the files and skimmed through them, giving a nod of approval.

“It couldn’t be helped. It was a request from the lady herself.”

“The lady…Wait. You mean the cat?! Uh, I’ve had owners commission me to search for their missing pet before, but never the other way around.”

“She works in mysterious ways, alluring as the night itself. Who are we to question her motives? And regardless, Rhodes Island never turns its back on one of its own.”

“Well, nice to know that you’ll look out for those three too if something ever happened.”

“Of course.”

They spent the next hour going over the details of the mission. Although his mind had been a little preoccupied before, Lee was honestly thankful to have something else to focus on, and he discussed the matter seriously to ensure the safety of the other operators.

While he hates to admit it, there was something nice about someone being able to acknowledge his troubles so easily. Because it was so difficult to hide it, there was no reason to put in the effort. The productivity helped with his mood, and by the time they were finished, the tiredness he’d mentioned earlier had somehow dissipated.

Though he thought it’d be best to get more rest anyway. His team would be departing later in the day. So he said farewell to the Doctor and prepared to leave their office to head for the dormitories. The Doctor thanked him for his time but requested one last favor.

“I need you to deliver these files for me.”

Lee took the small stack of files from their hands, looking slightly surprised.

“That’s it?”

It was rare for him to get an errand like this nowadays. Partly his fault since around the start of his contact with Rhodes Island, he used to pretend to have a headache whenever they made him do anything tedious like sort files. Eventually, they just gave up on trying. Okay maybe it was mostly his fault. But he doesn’t actually mind doing stuff like this if he has to.

He waited on the other person for a bit, in case they wanted to elaborate on anything further. The Doctor just shrugged, as much as they could with their hands still in their pockets, and explained that the office number label was on one of the folders.

“You can thank me later.” they told him.

This person has a really unconventional sense of humor.

Usually when you ask someone to do something for you, you’re the one thanking them. But he’s long since grown accustomed to the Doctor’s strange jokes. They were quite the oddball, especially if you caught them shortly after they’d been working too much. Plus there were too many cryptic rumors about them floating around. Like how they wore their usual work attire to the beach or that one time someone saw them eating an originium slug at late hours of the night, when they thought no one was watching. All unconfirmed, none unproven. Scary stuff. There were some things that didn’t need to be investigated.

Since the office for the delivery was opposite to where the dormitories were, the task was a bit inconvenient. It was still a trivial errand in the end. One that shouldn’t set him back more than half an hour.

When he arrived, he found Miss Orchid there with a bored but otherwise neutral expression on her face. He did as he was asked and handed her the files. Lee wasn’t sure what he was delivering, only that when the woman opened the files to read their contents, she gave the longest sigh and muttered “Ugh, seriously?” under her breath. Maybe he’d been tricked into giving another poor soul more work.

Despite her initial reaction, Miss Orchid quickly resumed her professional demeanor. She thanked Lee for the trouble and once the latter had one foot out the door, he heard the faintest complaints about ‘having enough work to deal with’.

Another person that likes to complain about work but always does it in the end? What a troublesome personality. He thought to himself with some amusement.

Since the dormitories were a fair distance away anyway, he took the opportunity to take a pleasant stroll through the landship, walking lazily while he thought about the upcoming mission.

What the Doctor said earlier resurfaced from his memory. Rhodes Island never turns its back on one of its own. Even if searching for someone who went missing was troublesome, it was a nice sentiment. To know that if you disappear, your presence is important enough that people will come looking for you.

Now that he thinks about it, he’s also troubled someone else with this kind of thing. It was…impressive that they never gave up after all that time.

Lee shook his head.

Forget about it for now. We parted on good terms. There’s nothing to regret.

He’s been too gloomy lately, like a child at the end of their summer break. Not wanting his vacation to end. It was a natural reaction, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was a little too old to be acting like this. It really would be best if he got over it soon.

He let himself wander a bit more, slowly but surely making his way to the dormitories. While walking down one of Rhodes Island’s many connecting hallways, someone’s loud voice pulled him away from his thoughts. It sounded as if someone had lost their composure. 

“How?! Augh, nevermind. Maybe we should check the reception room first...”

This kind of thing wasn’t uncommon at this place. The landship was home to all kinds of interesting characters. Yes, that part wasn’t all that strange. What was strange was that he recognized that voice. And it was the voice of someone who was supposed to be in charge of his house right now. So why was he hearing it here? It was a couple decades too early for him to be showing signs of old age. Nothing wrong with his hearing yet.

He made sure to keep his presence hidden while he peeked from the corner of the hallway. Sure enough, there they were. Three orange tails and hushed voices. As expected, trouble always came in threes.

He could hear the most reasonable member of their group trying to calm down the other two.

“There’s no sense arguing over who’s at fault. Let’s just think of what we should do before we run into-”

“Before you run into?”

Lee watched as all three of his employees jumped after suddenly hearing his voice. 

Actually, he had planned to wait behind them until they noticed, but he couldn’t resist the dramatic entrance.

The three turned towards him in surprise, and it was Aak who mumbled a not so enthusiastic “Too late I guess” before falling silent along with the others.

Lee looked back at them. At their age, there was no point scolding them. But he knew the next best thing. Crossing his arms, standing there, and looking extremely disappointed. He tapped his foot expectantly, showing that he was waiting for an explanation.

Waai Fu was the first to step forward, and she explained nervously:

“Uncle Lee! You’re still here? We thought you would be on your mission by now. See, we were also called over for a mission and-”

Lee nudged his head to the side, not particularly impressed.

“Bad lie. Too easy to verify that. Next.”

Aak stepped forward and pulled a vial of strange liquid from his pocket.

“I left some important samples here for my new medicine, so I came to get them.”

Lee didn’t seem too convinced.

“Why did the other two come with you? Anyway, we’re on good terms with Penguin Logistics, who also work here. I’m surprised you didn’t go to them first. That’s what you usually do when you forget something.”

Aak shrugged indifferently, too lazy to put together any sort of argument. It felt pretty pointless, considering who he was up against.

Finally, when it was Hung’s turn to speak, the Perro simply said “We wanted to see you off properly. Don’t you think you left too suddenly? Who knows when we’ll see you again.”

The Lung was able to sense some honesty in his words. He closed his eyes and sighed. Probably a bit of the truth mixed in with a lie. He’s seen plenty of those before. Still, the thought was appreciated. Although it didn’t stop him from worrying about the obvious.

“So? What about our guest? No way you left him in Lungmen by himself, right? And bringing him here would be impossible on such short notice given that a background check is required.”

“We didn’t need to. He already went back to the capital. Uncle Liang said he didn’t want his work piling up.” Waai Fu explained.

“That’s good.” Lee nodded, seeming to accept her words. He felt more at ease knowing that everything was in order back home. Despite the way he acted earlier, he didn’t actually mind having the children come to Rhodes Island for, well, whatever reason they were here since they didn’t seem to want to tell him. They were all adults now and should be allowed to come and go wherever they please. It was just more amusing to question them the way he did.

Having settled the important business, he reverted back to his laid back state from before. The plan was originally to go back to the dormitories to rest, but since everyone was here anyway, he proposed the idea of getting lunch together. To his surprise, Waai Fu, Aak, and Hung just stared at him with nervous faces. They didn’t seem to like the idea too much. Very unexpected. These three rarely ever passed on an opportunity to eat. Not to mention, Rhodes Island’s kitchen is quite nice, and he’s already been granted permission to cook there. Even if the menu for today wasn’t good, there was no reason why he couldn’t quickly stir fry something up for them.

In particular, it was written all over Hung’s face that something was wrong. This guy had a bad habit of wearing his heart on his sleeve a little too openly. To the point that it caused trouble for him sometimes. But in situations like this, it made him the easiest person to go to when Lee wanted a straight answer. So he took one step toward the young man and asked him amicably.

“Hung, what’s the matter? Did you guys get into trouble again? Why don’t you tell me what the problem is and we’ll sort it out together.”

It seemed for a long time that Hung didn’t want to say anything, occasionally glancing to the side at Waai Fu and Aak. Lee was about to give up on getting anything out of him when Aak spoke up and caught his attention.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Sure.” Lee responded back.

“Only if you promise not to get mad.”

That phrase wasn’t a good sign, but he didn’t really have any choice but to encourage the other to continue.

“As long as it wasn’t illegal.”

“Ok cool. It was only against regulations. Nothing related to the law.”

“....”

Aak took a deep breath before saying everything in one go, talking at the same barely comprehensible speed as that young woman from the Lungmen Fire Department.

“So the truth is Mr. Liang didn’t go back home he changed his mind last minute because he said he wanted to see you and he seemed kinda desperate so we snuck him onboard and figured it would be fine if he stuck with us but then we lost him and now we can’t find him so he’s wandering around the landship somewhere without a guest badge or any papers and we’re trying to find him before security gets to him first”

There was silence for a while. 

No one said anything. 

It was a lot of information to process.

Once everything had settled in his mind, Lee found that he wasn’t sure how to feel about this situation. All he could do was let out a tired sigh and mentally say goodbye to his free time again.

“I can’t say I didn’t anticipate this scenario when I saw you three were here. Losing him was a surprise though. How do you lose track of a tall, fully grown, adult man exactly?”

“I dunno. It just kinda happened.” Aak replied with a shrug.

Waai Fu didn’t seem very happy with his answer and joined the conversation to elaborate.

“We were leading him around and at some point, we realized he wasn’t with us anymore. We weren’t watching him the whole time. I mean, he’s not a child we need to babysit right? And I really doubt he would wander off on his own so…”

She trailed off and looked down at the floor anxiously, unable to hide the guilt she was feeling at the moment. The situation sounded a lot worse now that she was explaining it out loud.

Lee was quick to notice and reassured her. It was weird that this was happening at all, but not something that was going to end the world either. He knew all three of them were good kids. They probably didn’t want to tell him because they felt bad about causing him trouble. So he wasn’t mad at them, and there was no reason for any of them to feel guilty. Honestly, he was glad they told him rather than trying to solve this problem on their own.

“Hey, don’t sweat it”, Lee gave her a gentle pat on the head. “With the four of us working together, we’ll find him for sure. I’ve only seen one male Kuranta around this part of the landship and that guy has blonde hair. We can just ask around if anyone’s seen a male Kuranta with black hair. Besides, Rhodes Island isn’t a dangerous place and that guy’s plenty capable. 

Worst case scenario, you three will get a scolding for sneaking someone on board. Wait. That probably means me too. Uh, let’s hope it’s Miss Amiya and not Dr. Kal’tsit who does it then.”

Everyone laughed at the thought of the entire group being forced to sit through one of Kal’tsit’s infamous monologues, and the absurdity of it eased their tension a little.

While Hung, Aak, and Waai Fu were perfectly capable of settling things on their own, there was something reassuring about having their boss around to call the shots again. Even if they forgot half the time that that was technically what he was. After some discussion, everyone agreed to split up and cover different parts of the landship.

It was a difficult search since no one personally knew who they were looking for. There was also no way to anticipate where they might find him. But as Lee predicted, there were a fair amount of people who reported having seen him. It took some time, but they were eventually able to narrow things down based on the sightings. And it seemed that luck was on their side today because when they finally found him, Liang Xun was not with security or strangers, but rather, they saw him speaking with some familiar faces.

Familiar to both Liang Xun and Lee’s agency. Operator Kroos and Mr. Nothing appear to have run into their missing guest at some point. It was quite fortunate. Running into those two was probably one of the best possible outcomes. At least they knew who he was and could verify his identity. Lee and the rest of the group were relieved when they saw who he was with. It meant that very likely nothing bad had happened.

Kroos was the first to notice them approaching and she greeted them warmly, sociable and upbeat as ever.

“Oh! Hiii~ Mr. Lee, Waai Fu, Hung, Aak. Wow, so many people. We’re running into all our friends today.”

Mr. Nothing agreed with her. He opened his mouth and was about to say his own greetings when the sound of running footsteps and a flash of black raced past him.

“Lee! You’re still here. I thought I was too late. No one knew where to find you.”

He wanted to reply back with something like ‘Yeah the same goes for you’ , but Lee was more distracted by the fact that Liang Xun was currently looking at him like he’d just found water in the desert. The guy had a pretty mellow personality, and he’s never seen him move with this much urgency before. He wanted to ask him why but wasn’t given the luxury.

Before he could process it, Liang Xun had already grabbed his hands and placed their palms together, filling the space between them. Already, there were some confused and surprised reactions, including the faint sound of Kroos going “oh my” in the background. But Liang Xun ignored it all and focused only on the man in front of him. He stared at him seriously and spoke purposefully.

“About what you said before. I came here because I wanted to talk about it. Your confession. Let me respond to it properly. I-”

“Hold it.” Lee interrupted immediately.

He couldn’t believe what was happening. While he didn’t pull away from the other’s grasp, he looked around apprehensively before chastising him.

“You…you’re not thinking, are you? Look where we are right now.”

Those words were like a loud snap, which pulled Liang Xun out of his tunnel vision. He followed his friend’s advice and checked his surroundings, realizing that there were several people looking at the both of them. Fortunately, there was no one else around except the members of Lee’s agency and Miss Kroos and Mr. Nothing, who were so kind as to accompany him when he admitted that he had gotten separated from his friends. But that was still an audience of five more than the Lung probably wanted.

Liang Xun suddenly let go of Lee’s hands and stepped back. It was far too late now, but he realized from the flustered look on the carp’s face that he had just embarrassed him in front of everyone. He coughed awkwardly and glanced around, trying to think of a way to fix his mistake. But as always, Lee didn’t mind stepping in to help when he was in trouble, and the detective showed his talent for handling difficult situations once again.

Turning to face the entire group, he cleared his throat and explained as casually as he could.

“Sorry everyone. Looks like Liang Xun and I have some private matters to discuss.” He turned towards Kroos and Mr. Nothing and gave them a small nod of acknowledgement. “You two. Could you go tell the Doctor that I’ll be missing the squad meeting for my upcoming mission? We’ve already discussed it together anyway. And if you could, ahem…” He gestured towards himself and the man standing next to him. “Please keep this matter discreet. I’d appreciate it.”

Kroos straightened her back and exclaimed “Yes sir!”, assuming a saluting posture typically reserved for one of Dobberman’s training drills. She had a vague idea of what was going on. Her only real opinion on it was that it was a happy thing, and she needed to buy some congratulatory gifts for it later.

Mr. Nothing, in contrast, was fanning himself nervously. Of course, he also thought it was something to celebrate. But it felt like he’d just learned something he wasn’t supposed to. Considering the influence Mr. Lee and Mr. Liang held in their respective cities, isn’t the thought of their union kind of intimidating? Certainly, he wouldn’t want to be seen as a liability by either of them. So he remarked with earnest supplication that he was a trusted ally. Definitely not a loose end that needed to be taken care of.

“Rest assured, I would rather be shot and left on the streets to die twice over than do something disrespectful to you two, who’ve shown me so much generosity. Your wish is my command.” He bowed his head to show his sincerity.

A little dramatic, but their reactions were essentially affirmative. Good enough for Lee. He had bigger things to worry about right now.

Next, he turned his attention towards the other agency members, who didn’t look quite as surprised as the other two but still had an air of awkwardness around them.

“And you three. Uh, listen. We can talk about this later. If you even want to.”

It seemed that they were all feeling especially cooperative today, since the only reaction he got was a simultaneous thumbs up from all three of them. Great. He had their blessing. Probably.

Once the excitement settled down, the two men said goodbye to everyone and walked away. When they were both out of sight, Lee grabbed Liang Xun’s hand and started walking at an accelerated pace, dragging the other man along behind him. The latter had no complaints and allowed himself to be guided. It’s not the first time something like this has happened. Even if it’s been awhile, he’s gotten quite used to being dragged around by this person. Although by his own admission, this time he had been the one to cause them trouble.

Neither of them spoke at all during their entire walk to the dormitories, and Liang Xun was beginning to worry that Lee may actually be mad at him for what he did earlier. He wouldn’t blame him.

Eventually, they reached their destination, with Lee stopping in front of one of the many dorm rooms and using his ID card to let them both inside. The sound of the door clicking shut could be heard behind them, signaling that now it really was just the two of them. Liang Xun waited for a minute, in case the other person was angry and had any grievances to settle with him. But Lee said nothing.

He only stared at him with a difficult expression on his face.

Liang Xun knew that it was his cue to explain himself. There was no such thing as turning back. Not when he had already caused him this much trouble.

“I thought about it.” he started. His throat felt dry, and he had to concentrate hard to convey what he wanted to express into words.

“I couldn’t understand why I never noticed how you felt. And why I couldn’t decide whether I felt the same. But…”

He reached for Lee’s hands again. Slowly this time. So that they had the option of pulling away if they wished. When they showed no signs of discomfort, he continued.

“I think…I think I have been loved for a very long time. Ever since the start. The things which should have been precious to me became as natural as breathing.” Liang Xun squeezed the fingers that rested on his palms, thinking of unpleasant things, his regrets. Nevertheless, he kept going.

“It’s stupid of me to only realize how much I value something once I’m faced with the possibility of losing it. But I’m awake now. If it’s not too late, I want to spend the rest of my life making up for lost time.”

Frozen in place, Lee could only look at the person in front of him, completely unsure how to respond. Logically, it should have made sense. Why would this person come all the way here otherwise? Just to reject him? They weren't so cruel. Of course this was what they had been planning to say. But to hear such things come out of his mouth, it felt like Lee had completely left the realm of reality. Any second he would definitely wake up now. Just like all the other times.

Liang Xun could see that his words had been received properly, but Lee was having a hard time responding. This situation felt familiar. He recalled the last time they had a proper heart to heart. At that time, Lee had said nothing as well and only moved closer to embrace him.

This time he would be the one to do it. He’d had enough of being passive his whole life.

Without thinking twice, Liang Xun walked forward and leaned in to embrace him. He thought about the last time they said goodbye. About how the carp had been mindful to keep a respectful distance between them, and how much it annoyed him. He decided there would, quite literally, be no room for that possibility this time and pulled the other person in as close as he could. He heard the other person’s breath hitch, clearly started by the sudden intimacy. But he was satisfied to find that Lee only pressed into him further, burying his head into the space between his neck and shoulder.

Now that Liang Xun had time to think about it, these last few days have been incredibly stressful and tiring. His chaotic thoughts made him unable to think clearly, and he found that he could barely focus on anything at all. But it was just that. A couple days. How long has it been for Lee, who didn’t even know whether he was loved back?

On top of all that, everything from his last visit made a lot more sense. Especially that misunderstanding with Ning, which he had originally assumed was Lee’s displeasure at his time not being respected.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It was all one big terrible joke.

If I were you, I would have hated me by now. Even if I’m considered innocent because I didn’t know, I’ve done nothing but hurt you. How can you still love someone after all that? Maybe I really don’t deserve to hold you like this.

He had such a thought. But the truth was, he’d finally realized something. Earlier, he worried over whether he was the right person. Whether he deserved such an important part in his life. Now he had his answer. Because despite everything. Despite his frustrations, his regrets, his uncertainty, his doubts. He couldn’t stand the thought of another person being in his place right now. So even if he didn’t deserve it, he would selfishly take this position. And he would earn the right to be here just like every other accomplishment in his life.

He doesn’t want to give this person up to anyone, and he certainly doesn’t want him to be alone either. Such a simple conclusion that took him way too long to realize.

It would never compare to the other’s experience, but he finally understood to some degree. Why Lee couldn’t let it go after all these years, despite all the pain it must have caused him. 

Well, there was no point agonizing over the past anymore. Any pain in the future, they could bear it together. Besides, his personal philosophy has never wavered. Words are useful but it’s your actions that will speak for you in the end.

After some thought, he realized that he could start now. So while they were still locked in an embrace, Liang Xun turned his head to plant a slow and deliberate kiss on Lee’s neck. A message, clear and impossible to misunderstand:

I am no longer just your friend.

He felt the man in his arms jolt frantically, and he quickly thought to apologize for being too sudden. Before he could, the other person recovered and tightened their arms around him. From the direction he was facing, Liang Xun noticed a thick and beautiful tail swaying haphazardly. A reaction that was far too honest.

Lee, you are so…

If it were possible, Liang Xun wouldn’t have minded staying like this for a while. But eventually it was Lee who pulled away and cleared his throat to speak, doing his best to regain his composure.

“I never thought I’d be saying this, but…let’s hold off on things for now. I’ll be leaving for my mission in a few hours. It’s, uh, not good to get carried away.”

Liang Xun accepted his words. At the end of the day, they were working adults who have definitely spent too much time messing around. Anyway, the situation is as Miss Hoshiguma had told them earlier. Even if they were apart, it certainly didn’t mean the end. Rather, this was more like the beginning. An embarrassingly late one he felt, but better late than never at all.

Lee admitted with a yawn that he was still tired from traveling and honestly exhausted from the day’s events too. If it had been like before, Liang Xun would have excused himself so that his friend could rest. But he had nowhere else to go. Or maybe it was that he had nowhere he wanted to go. So he sat down and talked with Lee a bit more, while the other changed and got himself situated comfortably in the bed.

As expected, the Lung’s responses soon began to trail off, and he eventually fell asleep. Looking at him now, Liang Xun thinks that this really is just like last time. To be honest, it felt like only a few things had actually changed between them. But a lot more of it made sense now. Like all the small pieces had finally fallen into place, and the distance between them had been crossed for good.

The conclusion to what was already a lifetime’s worth of troubles, although there were certain to be many more. At the very least, he was glad that this person didn’t have to wait anymore. And neither did he, even if he never realized it until now.

__________________

When Lee opened his eyes, he woke up feeling groggy but well rested. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before turning to his side and found that someone had fallen asleep on the chair by the bed. The man had a reserved expression, the same as always, and his only indications of breathing were the light fluctuations of his chest. His posture looked too uncomfortable. The back of his head was unable to rest anywhere and instead leaned awkwardly on the back of the chair. It was impressive that he could even fall asleep in that position.

The impact of the day’s events slowly dawned on him as his mind began to wake up along with his body. He glanced at the clock on the nearby table and found that he no longer had the luxury of staying lost in thought. So silently, he got up and put on his usual coat, hat, and accessories. He grabbed the nearest pen and paper and began to scribble on it. In it, he left a farewell note as well as instructions in case Liang Xun wasn’t able to reunite again with the people who already knew him.

Having a note with his signature on it should get him far enough to get an audience with the Doctor at the very least. They could be trusted to handle the situation. The note was left by the bedside table where it would be easy to find. Before heading out, Lee looked back one last time to examine the man sleeping on the chair. 

He thought about moving him to the bed but decided against it. If Liang Xun woke up in the process, it would just become harder for him to leave, and they probably wouldn’t want to go back to sleep either.

Instead, he just thought about how he would definitely make fun of him again later. This person has the guts to stay in his room and watch him sleep the whole time but apparently not enough courage to actually get inside the bed and sleep comfortably. Stupid. Bad for his back too. He doesn’t know what goes on in that guy’s head sometimes. Whatever. It was more ammo for him to use later.

Even though he was told that the mission was important this time around, the process was more or less the same. Report for the mission. Wait with the squad until preparations are complete. Board the aircraft. Compared to earlier in the day, Lee had no trouble focusing now. So he did his due diligence and took the time to talk to his fellow squad members. He apologized for his absence in the earlier briefing and assured everyone that he wanted to complete the investigation and get home quickly as much as everyone else.

Then, something unexpected happened. Someone giggled at him. He glanced around and discovered that it was the caster operator who always wore a strange hat, the one who went by the codename Haze.

Seeing the confusion on the detective’s face, the sharp-eyed woman clarified.

“It’s only natural to want to come back quickly when you’ve got someone lovely waiting for you back home, isn’t that right?”

She smiled back at him, as if what she said wasn’t particularly out of place.

When Lee heard her words, he only responded with a groan and complained about how he was unable to stop his friends from spreading strange gossip about him. In his defense, this was fairly unexpected behavior coming from Kroos and Mr. Nothing. 

Haze observed his reactions with some pity but was not moved enough to bother hiding the truth.

“Hm? No idea what you’re talking about. The current rumor among the kitties is that you were seen holding someone’s hand while walking through half of Rhodes Island. Shocking for someone who isn’t fond of physical contact. And wasn’t the destination your bedroom? Not hard to put two and two together. Or are you saying several people imagined it?”

So it was his blunder in the end. He was so preoccupied at the time, it never even crossed his mind.

It was difficult to refute Haze's statement, so Lee gave up and chose to remain silent. He only did his best to maintain his composure. Too many people already have seen his embarrassing side today. Of course, some people nearby noticed and were beginning to look at him strange. Fortunately, he was quite familiar with the way gossip worked on Rhodes Island. There were too many people and interesting events going on most of the time.

The current topics would spread like wildfire but the contents were always changing. As long as he kept his head down, sooner or later everyone would lose interest. He could always ask the Doctor to keep an eye on things for him as well. Anyway, compared to the kind of secrets some people on that landship like to keep, being in a relationship with a politician is laughably mundane. Unexpected news just makes for juicy gossip. It’d sort itself out. Probably…hopefully.

Right now, he was fine with the way things were.

#miko the clowncollectr's fic tag #LiangLee / 梁鯉 #lee arknights #liang xun arknights

[onyume-designs]

DREAMS INTO REALITY

This is Onyume Designs, and our motto is “Materializing your dreams through Art” this is how this brand came to be.

At a young age, art has been within my surroundings, every little thing is art, I have been honing my skills ever since I was in elementary, having people around me who knew how art works is a huge help for my skills; I started off doing some music doing audio mixing and editing, then went on to doing simple typography edits, they were bad but I was trying my best as an adolescent, then I tried 3D animation, I’m still learning up til now, I’m getting the hang of it, then at my senior year of high school I got inspired to do drawing, I got influenced by a close friend who is amazing at doing drawings so I went to her and asked her if she could teach me, and she did and in addition to that I followed a lot of YouTube video tutorial on how to draw bodies and certain angles of the face; this skills led me to deciding my school and specialization for senior high school, I chose Illustration and Animation. In senior high, we were taught more on illustrating characters, we were taught to do concept designs, do landscape designs and a turnaround character design, we were also taught digital art and still life painting. In my last year of senior high right before the pandemic we were taught 2d animation traditionally, we were taught how to do keyframes and in betweening of frames, I learned a lot.

But then the pandemic came, I kind of lost a lot of motivation in doing illustrations, that was my forte at the time, then I started learning graphic design, I felt like if I can’t portray meanings into illustrations, maybe I can portray them through graphic design posters, and so I did; my first works were a bit bad but I improved myself nonetheless, I watched YouTube videos, got inspiration from fellow designers, learned how to do various designs and logos, with time I started taking small commissions like telegram / Facebook stickers or watermarks for small business owners to doing logos for them, I started expanding my horizons and went on to Upwork to seek part time jobs, I did get one eventually and got paid $60, but it was only for a short while. I stopped seeking work because of school, I needed to focus on my studies; eventually I found out from one of my close friends that I can seek part time jobs on Facebook groups, she gave me links of groups that I can join, and I did and I posted my post about looking for a part time job and posted some of my works, I did get a lot of engagement and I got one part time job that just got finished recently, I was making social media posts for a Facebook page, I earned 5,000 pesos for that, I’m still waiting for an approval if things will continue or not, but I am happy to be earning for myself. Then came on to making my page “Onyume Designs”, Onyume is a play word that came from the word Onyomi meaning “Sound Phonetic”. Onyume is consisted of 2 japanese word / characters; On meaning sound and Yume meaning dream hence can be “Sounding Dream”. I chose this as my brand title because of my motto, I want to make design dreams a reality, I want designs to be as accurate as your dreams. I hope for all the support I can get in making my dreams a reality.

[no-droids]

Whenever You Want

Part Fourteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.2K

Warnings: Listen there is some dirty smut in this one yall okay like I was blushing when I wrote it, it has a very stark beginning and theres a pagebreak afterwards if you would prefer to skip over it. Smut includes oral sex (female receiving) rough sex, sensory deprivation, butt stuff (ass to mouth, anal fingering/penetration) so PLEASE LOOK OUT FOR IT PLEASE. Also there is jealous/possessive mando in this, season 1 Karga makes another appearance, and some angst/fluff towards the end

A/N: Nothing much today yoditos just love you all

***

Din said he’d meet you here.

You’re currently sitting across from Greef Karga in a cantina on Nevarro, a closed shield next to you and a blaster tucked into the back of your waistband, hidden underneath your shirt.  You’re barely even looking at him, though—your eyes are attached to the door by an invisible string, forcing your gaze back to it no matter how much it bounces around the room.

You don’t know where Din is, you haven’t seen him in hours.  But you do know that when he left, he was moving slower than you’re used to.  You don’t think anyone else would notice, but you sure did.  Not that he was obvious about it—you only picked up on very subtle hints.  Leaning up against things just a bit more than he usually does.  Taking slightly longer exiting the ramp of the Crest than his normal strides would carry him.

He didn’t say what he was going to do—just that he needed to find someone before meeting with Karga, and you accepted it.  But truthfully, you didn’t want to.  You were worried about him—still are, actually.  But for all intents and purposes, he was speaking and acting like himself, showing no real signs of exhaustion other than the smallest instances you described before, so you didn’t really have a leg to stand on.  He’s been through way worse, and you know it.  You just… find yourself worrying about him so much more than you used to, and you need to learn how to gain some control over that part of you.

The kid was still passed out from healing him and you remember Din carefully setting four pucks down in the sleeping baby’s sphere and giving his ears a gentle rub between leather fingers.  He turned back to you and told you to meet him at the cantina in three hours, but if it ended up taking him too long for any reason, to try your best to see if Karga will let you exchange on his behalf.

Admittedly, he didn’t sound too confident about it—the instructions were delivered with a tone that implied a doubtful, just-in-case scenario he wasn’t foreseeing happening.  Or maybe he just doubted the likelihood of Karga agreeing to do business with you, you’re not entirely sure.  All you know is that when he left, you were almost certain he wouldn’t be late, but you also took the time to grab the smallest blaster from his armory before heading out just in case.

Yet—here you are, three and a half hours later, eyes flicking between the door and Karga as you attempt to keep up polite conversation.  After turning down his offer of alcohol for the fifth time and still not seeing any glimpse of beskar coming to your rescue, you figure this may be as good a time as any to start the exchange.

During an extended break in the small talk, you slowly reach over to the corner of your booth and press a button on the face of the kid’s shield.  It hisses open and you completely miss the way Karga’s hand raises while three of his guards automatically reach for their hips.  The little green monster is still snoozing comfortably while you pull out the four glowing pucks Din left you and set them on the table one by one.

They scrape along the top of it as you slowly push them over to him, before sitting back in the booth and clearing your throat, flicking your eyes between Karga and his guards.  To you, nobody appears to have moved, so you muster a polite smile at him.

Karga smiles back, but makes no move to gather or inspect the offerings in front of him.

“Um…” you say after a moment, suddenly feeling your heart start to beat a little faster.  “Mando… Mando gave me permission to exchange on his behalf.”

“I believe you,” he drawls out in response, but the pucks still sit untouched in front of him as he leans back in the booth and studies you.  “Mando has always had a… let’s say, a frustrating penchant for disregarding the pillars of our code.  My apologies, young lady, but I’m afraid that I cannot accept these from you.”

Your voice comes out quieter than you’d like it to sound.  “Why not?”

“It is… unlawful,” he answers after a moment.  “Our organization operates under strict rules.”

Does it?  You blink.  No, it doesn’t.  You’re nothing to the Guild and you’ve sat next to Din quite a few times while Karga talked, listening to him drunkenly boast about return rates and out members by name.  You’re not sure why he’s barring you like this, but you’re also not self-assured enough to put practically any spine into it whatsoever.  “I’m… afraid I don’t understand.”

“I cannot legally do guild business with individuals not recognized as members in an official capacity,” he sighs, sounding grave and almost apologetic about it, but you don’t know him well enough to know if he’s a good actor or not.  “There’s nothing I can do for you besides provide you with my company, not until Mando decides to show.”

Well now that doesn’t make any sense, and you’re starting to worry that for some reason or another, he isn’t going to show.  Though it was incredibly well concealed, you’re well aware that Din was still lingering in the final recovery stages when he left the Crest earlier and all you have to go on is his word that he’d be here.  Something could’ve happened.  Something could be happening right now, you need to push.

“People pick up bounties for extra credits all the time,” you mumble, still way too fucking quiet about it.  Maker, you’re not even sure if he could hear that over the sound of the cantina.  Speak up, speak up.

“Yes, but those quarry are listed on the New Republic’s most wanted database,” Karga acknowledges diplomatically, educating more than he is arguing, before uncorking the bottle of glowing blue alcohol in front of him and beginning to pour himself another shot.  “They’re fodder.  Up for grabs—names, last known locations, and biometrics published for the entire galaxy to read.”  He tilts his head down at the four metal pucks on the table without removing his gaze from the gradually filling glass.  “Those pucks are different, they’re commissions.  Tied specifically to Guild contracts.”  Karga clunks the bottle back down again and corks it, pinning you with a stare.  “For all I know, you could’ve murdered a member of our ranks and come to collect payment for his bounties.  Can’t have that.”

Your blood suddenly turns to ice at the implication, eyes wide and your heartbeat rocketing as you look from Karga to the three guards casually stationed behind him.  “You—You think I murdered Mando?”

“No,” he says, easily and in the very same breath, before throwing the shot back and wiping his mouth with a grimace.  “Not sure I’d care too much if you did.  It’s not my rule, but I am required to follow it or risk losing my position in the Guild.”

Shit.  Shit.  What do you do?

You’re blank, left quiet and feeling increasingly unsure of how to proceed.  Karga, however, seems completely unbothered and even appears to be enjoying himself and your company.  He gives you another smile, this one a lot friendlier and more genuine than the one earlier, before setting his elbows on the table and leaning forward.

“Look, I want to help you,” he admits, keeping his tone light, “but my hands are tied.  Just relax and share a drink with me until he gets here, it’s not a problem.”

Fuck, you don’t like this, and a quick look around brings another reminder of Din’s continued absence.  Your chest feels tight, the anxiety starting to compound and make you jumpy.  It’s been too long—it’s been at least forty minutes or so of waiting by now and something just feels wrong about this.  Not having him next to you feels wrong enough on its own, but when he specifically told you he’d be here?

You clench your jaw and try to work up your nerve.  Karga is a nice guy, right?  He knows you by name, he knows who you are to Mando.  And while you never really thought about the bounty hunter’s omnipresent protection as being anything other than metaphorical, you suddenly realize that… it might be literal, too.  How much sway do you actually have here, you wonder?  You’re not stupid, you’re not going to try anything stupid, but maybe just another question won’t hurt?

“Well, um… how do you become a member, then?”  You ask him, and you watch as he leans back in the booth, raising both eyebrows at you.

“Excuse me?”  He asks, though there’s a genuine amusement in his voice.  Stunned that you’d even say the words aloud.

“I have four bodies,” you tell him shortly.  You’re still quiet about it, but his thoroughly entertained astonishment is beginning to rub you the wrong way.  You don’t want to be part of the Guild, you don’t want to be here, you’re doing this out of growing necessity.  “One of which I dragged through a blizzard on Hoth by its ankles and put into carbonite myself, so please just tell me what I have to do to get you to take them.”

“I can’t,” he repeats, shaking his head like you’re just not getting it.  “New members are only accepted if they bring in an S-level criminal from the database or if they complete a commission that was granted to them by someone of my station—neither of which apply to you.  If you cannot present me with any sort of reasonable argument for which they could, then I’m afraid this is not a favor I can swing.”

“I was sitting right here,” you return, suddenly finding your voice.  If Karga wants an argument from you to get this to happen, then you’ll do it.  You just need to finish this exchange, go back to the Crest, and scan around for Din’s signal.  “When you first gave the pucks to Mando, I sat right here and you pushed them over to this side of the table—I was present for the commission and now I’m here to complete it.”

He shakes his head.  “But I didn’t give them to you, I gave them to Mando—”

“Yes, but you only wanted to give him three,” you immediately point out.  “The last one, the one I told you I put into carbonite—you said you threw it in because you liked me, it could’ve been for me.”

Karga suddenly stops and blinks at you for a few seconds, and you bite your lip, wondering if the logic will hold.  It’s flimsy as fuck and you know he could very easily rip it apart if he wanted to.  It could’ve been for you but it wasn’t, he gave it to Mando.  You also purposefully leave out the fact that you’re also the reason Mando only gave him three bodies in the first place; your only goal here is to complete this transaction as quickly as possible and leave.  You don’t like the fact that it’s taking Din so long, and you also don’t like the fact that Karga seems so keen on keeping you here with him, no matter how many reassurances he provides.  He said he wants to help you?  This can be his chance to prove it.

After a few extended moments of consideration, Karga finally shrugs like he really couldn’t care less before reaching across the table for the pucks and beginning to stack them in his palm.

“What is your last name?”  He asks, turning behind him to gesture for one of his men with a jerk of his head.  The bodyguard exits the cantina without another word and your eyes flick back to Karga’s.

“Why does it matter?”  You ask uncertainly, watching another guard approach with a holopad as he shrugs once more.

“It doesn’t, but we need something for our records,” Karga explains, grabbing the device as it’s tapped against his shoulder without removing his gaze from yours.  “I can just use Doe if you don’t feel like sharing—most of our members tend to prefer anonymity, including your companion.”

Your eyebrows furrow even as your heart continues to pound, wondering how they can afford to be so lax about some things but take others so seriously.  “You have him down as John Doe?”

“First name Man,” Karga grunts in response, finally breaking eye contact to begin navigating through pages on the holopad.

“Ah,” you say shortly, knowing you’d probably find the joke funny in other circumstances.  You’re not out of the trenches yet, you still feel the worry tugging hard at your chest.

“Very well,” Karga announces with a sigh, pocketing the pucks in his leather overcoat and then handing the holopad back to one of the men flanking him after a moment.  “Someone is collecting the carbonite plaques from your vessel as we speak.”

You give him a nod, taking a deep breath that you hope is slow and subtle enough to not give your anxiety away.  He helped you out, you’re halfway through this.  Now comes the exchange.  Now it’s his turn to give you the credits and four more pucks, that’s how this should go.

Only, Karga leans back in his seat and cocks his head at you.  “Unfortunately, I believe we have found ourselves in the midst of yet another predicament.”

Your heart continues to slam, praying you haven’t somehow majorly fucked things up by getting this far.  Din still isn’t here, why is he so fucking late?  He nearly froze to death and you handled a dead body just to make this meeting on time, where the fuck is he?

You raise an eyebrow at him, willing the building panic not to show on your face.  “Have we?”

“You’re lucky credits are attached to commissions instead of rank within the Guild,” he prefaces, pulling out a large handful of them to begin counting, and your eyes flick around the cantina while you know he isn’t looking, “or else you’d be getting about half of what I’d normally give him.”

Heart galloping when you still don’t see any sign of him, you just decide to keep extra quiet as you watch Karga divvy out a sizable stack of credits, hoping your prolonged silence will protect you somehow.

“The question now becomes…” he lifts an eyebrow at you while sliding them across the table to you, “how many pucks do I give you in return, hm?”

Fuck, you don’t like this, you’re trying to make it crystal fucking clear that your intentions do not extend beyond the perimeter of this table.  There’s no you to be found in this deal, you’re just an emergency proxy in Din’s absence and you only inserted yourself in the situation to accomplish that task.  “I told you I’m only here to exchange on Mando’s behalf, that’s it.”

“Be that as it may…”  Karga glances around the cantina like he’s thinking extra hard about it.  This is a made-up problem, you both know there’s no predicament here.  He knows you didn’t kill Mando, he knows there’s no real reason to be giving you such a hard time about this, and you clench your jaw as he still seems to take his time considering it.  “Tell you what, young lady,” he finally turns back to you.  “Do me the honor of sharing one sip of this fine spotchka with me and I’ll give you four pucks to pass along to Mando.”

Okay.  Okay, you can do that, if he really cares that much.  Karga gestures for the closest droid to come by with a glass for you, but you just grab the bottle in front of him and uncork it without thinking too much, balancing the glowing blue liquid with two hands and diligently taking a small sip of it before setting it down again.  Appearing satisfied with your demonstration of upholding your end of the bargain, Karga grins and reaches into another pocket.

“Four for Mando,” he pushes four pucks across the table, “same rate and return as last time, as promised.”  You nearly deflate in relief as you quickly gather them up and begin dropping them into the snoozing baby’s shield along with the credits, but then Karga reaches back and pulls out another puck, pushing it over to you.  “And one for you.”

You blink at him, frozen in place.

“Lowest level, lowest pay.  Not even a criminal by New Republic standards, just a missing person,” he goes on to say, but then quite suddenly… 

Quite suddenly you’re absolutely fucking horrified.

You don’t want it.  Everything inside you surges up to scream that you do not want that puck.  It’s a waste of time, even if it’s an extra job—it’s too much trouble, too much fuel for such a small reward.  You already know good and well that Din won’t want to bother, getting this extra puck would be considered a detriment to him.

“What if I don’t want it?”  You ask, sounding nervous and vaguely out of breath as you look down at it.

Karga scoffs.  “Of course you don’t.  Nobody wants these, why do you think I’m trying so hard to pawn one off on you?”

Shit.  This is not at all how you expected any of this would go.  You know he’s not really asking, even if his tone and continued courtesy implies it’s only a request.  There’s an expectation attached to this, and it appears you take too long pondering an offer that isn’t actually voluntary.  Karga stares at you and your clear apprehension for just a few seconds more, before finally giving you an ultimatum.  “You said you’re here on his behalf.  You either take all five pucks now or Mando only gets three next time, your choice.”

Oh.  Oh, no.  This is a lose-lose; three pucks means more fuel and less credits, five pucks means more fuel and less credits.  It’s not like you have any real bargaining power here—almost everything he’s done for you today has been a favor of some sort and you’re well aware that things can always get worse.

Still, you take a deep breath and try your best to throw around whatever weight you have left in one final agreement.

“Give me your word you’ll go back to giving him four from now on, no more hassling or hard time constraints and we’ll take it just this once,” you tell him, trying to conjure and put power behind your words even though you’re unsure if they’ll stick.

“Deal,” Karga readily agrees with a smile, reaching his hand across the table.  You have no choice but to meet him in the middle and clasp it, unable to feel anywhere close to good about your performance here.  It was clunky and insecure and even though you just barely succeeded in making the exchange overall, you’re massively disappointed in the specifics.

But then Karga’s eyes quickly flick over your shoulder.

“Ah, Mando!”  He suddenly calls out, and your hand nearly snatches away from his while your body goes rigid.

Oh, this isn’t good, this is not good.  Well, it’s good that he’s here but it also really fucking isn’t.  You don’t even turn your head; you sit completely straight and still while the cantina falls to a hush and heavy footsteps begin to approach behind you.  You fucked up—you fucked up, you didn’t wait long enough and you feel the sharp regret instantly twist in your stomach.  He said he’d be here, why didn’t you trust him?  Your anxiety and stress compounded and spurned you to act too quickly, you made the deal a few fucking seconds before he showed up.

And, as Din eventually comes into your peripheral, taking his time leaning his rifle up against the table, you immediately realize that you should not have worried.  Recovery isn’t even a word in his vocabulary right now—he’s more intimidating than he’s ever been, more powerful and certain and dangerous while he lowers himself into the seat next to you than he’s ever felt to you before.  Everything is so quiet now that he’s here; you feel like even just swallowing against the sudden dryness in your throat turns into an audible gulp.  The man sitting across from you may own this cantina and every material good under its roof, but the one sitting by your side feels like he steals the literal air from the room just by walking inside it.

Yet, in spite of the daunting presence of the Mandalorian, Karga beams and tips his glass at him.  “I believe you’ve arrived just in time for your favorite part of the conversation, friend.  The farewells.”

You stare wide-eyed down at the table as Din leans back into the booth and very slowly extends his arm behind your shoulders, saying nothing at all to him.

The testosterone is radiating from him to the point of near suffocation, you can taste the alpha in the air.  Your heart slams in your chest at the unspoken claim he just made with a subtle movement, and though you’ve never been one for masculine displays, this one weirdly feels… good right now.  You know it’s primitive and crude and you’re not a piece of meat to be fought over, but it doesn’t feel like that at all.  It’s the immediate feeling of security that serves to heat your cheeks, the fact that you’ve been a nervous mess trying to be extra brave this whole interaction and then suddenly you have the backup of an entire army contained within one single suit of armor next to you.

If you weren’t internally panicking at how badly you screwed this shit up, you’d probably be going fucking feral for him right now.

Karga says your name and your gaze snaps to his, feeling like you can’t breathe.  “My associate has collected the plaques, nothing keeps you here any longer.  It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

Still, nobody at the table moves.

After a moment, you carefully glance up and to the side at the sharp, metallic profile of his helmet.  Maker, you can’t explain it—it’s like you feel terrified but not really for yourself, if that makes sense.  You’re upset with yourself for not having enough trust in his word, absolutely, but something in Din’s demeanor tells you that he’s going to be considerably less understanding of how Karga handled this situation than the way you did.

The helmet slowly turns down to look at you, and you bite your lip while carefully placing your hand on his thigh brace under the table, letting him feel your fingers brush against the bend of his knee.

He turns back to Karga after a few seconds, still not saying a single word, until eventually Din’s arm is lifted from behind your shoulders and you feel his leather fingers gently clasp your hand, before he starts to rise from the booth and pull you along next to him.  You both stand, and he silently presses a button on his vambrace without dropping your grip, urging the kid’s shield to follow along behind him.

“Um, goodbye,” you just barely remember to tell Karga as Din begins leading you away, apparently not waiting for the polite farewells he arrived in time for.

“Wait!”  A voice calls out just before you can make your exit, and Din pauses just in time for Karga to extend that damned fifth puck out for you to grab.  Right in fucking front of him.  “Can’t forget this!”

Fuck.  Great.  Thanks.

Blood rushes to your face while you go to reach for it, taking the puck and then placing it in the open shield along with four others in a way that you hope is casual but you know isn’t.  You close the lid on it and then squeeze Din’s hand slightly, but he stays rooted to the spot for a few more seconds, having watched the entire exchange play out.  Though you obviously wouldn’t be able to read his facial expressions even if you could lift your head to look up at him, you can’t will yourself to do so right now.  You’re too disappointed in yourself and nervous—you just stand there silently as he looks back at Karga, staring at your feet and praying he doesn’t do anything brash.

After too many moments of uncertainty, you squeeze his hand again and slowly begin to pull on it.  Without needing much pressure at all, he goes where you go, and you end up being the one to lead Din out of the cantina by the hand still tangled with yours.

*** 

The walk back to the Crest lasts an eternity.

Neither one of you say anything at all to each other the entire way there, and you know he’s not mad at you yet, but you’re worried.  You feel incredibly self-critical right now and it’s really not helping that he seems even quieter and more wound up than usual.  You don’t know if it’s because he already figured out that you just handed him extra work or if it’s because whatever made him late to the cantina also altered his mood, hit a reset button and reminded him of the way he used to be, the armor he’s wearing.  Was there a confrontation, you wonder?  Is he okay?  He seems like he’s… extra Mandalorian right now, there’s not really a better way to describe it.

He doesn’t drop your hand, though.  As you pass through the markets and shanty huts lining the streets, Din holds onto you.  Shoulders tense and strides heavy, but his fingers stay tangled in yours.

Regardless, you keep your mouth shut and eventually the Crest comes into view.  The ramp drops to the ground and the three of you make your way up, and you have enough foresight to carefully drop Din’s hand and lead the baby’s shield over to the unused cot built into the hull walls, closing him in a safe quiet place to sleep and continue building up his strength again.

You turn around to see Din press another button on his vambrace.  He stays with his back to you as the ramp slowly closes, but as soon as it latches up against the hull and locks into place, he nearly whips around and suddenly he’s right in front of you, gloves cupping your face.

“What happened?”  He asks sharply, the helmet looking you up and down.  “Are you alright?  Why did you look so scared?”

You reach up to rest your hands on his, blinking up at him and not knowing what to say.  How are you going to tell him?  He’s gotta waste extra fuel and time on a bullshit quarry because of you, what are you going to say?  You don’t even know if it’s last known location is nearby; he might have to fly to some remote, desolate corner of the galaxy just for a handful of credits because you couldn’t wait a fucking hour for him.

“I, uh…  I-I’m sorry, I just…”  But it’s nearly impossible to form a coherent thought when he’s this close to you and sounding fucking sincere, genuinely concerned about you while you’re stuck worrying about how to break the bad news to him.  “Oh, stars, um…”

“Did Karga fuck with you?”  He asks in that same sharp tone when you don’t finish your thought, but you’re so absorbed in your own conflict that you barely even hear him.  “Because I can go back right now, the cantina is just—”

“Okay wait, please—” You suddenly speak up, “before I tell you, just… please keep in mind that I did save your life two days ago, so…”

“Sweet girl,” Din rumbles slowly, a subtle warning for you to hurry up and spit it out.  His fingers tighten just slightly on your cheeks, still so gentle but needing you to communicate with him right now.

Tell him, you just need to tell him.  If he gets mad, then he gets mad, but at least he’ll know at that point and you won’t just be springing it on him out of nowhere.

“I fucked up,” you breathe out, eyebrows pulling up in the middle as you tighten your own grip on his hands.  “I’m so sorry, I fucked up and you were late and I got nervous and I didn’t wait long enough and I tried to make the exchange like you asked me to but then I had to take a fifth puck and I didn’t want to but Karga threatened to short change you next time around unless I agreed to take an extra one for the lowest pay just this once and I didn’t have any bargaining power and you showed up right after I agreed to the deal and I’m so so sorry—”

You cut yourself off with your own ragged gasp, not having paused once to breathe throughout the entire thing while your expression twisted up with regret more and more the longer he allowed you to speak.

Din stands there in front of you and doesn’t move, hands still attached to your face.

“Okay,” he eventually tells you.  Stunted words, like he’s trying extra hard to find them when yours just fell out of your mouth in a complete mess.  “It’s okay.  You did… good.”

The silence is tense and you’re becoming more and more anxious the longer he takes to speak.  He’s lying for your benefit, he must be.  When he drops his hands from your face and takes a full step back, you take the gesture as symbolic and nearly launch into panic.

“Maker, I’m so sorry I didn’t wait for—”  You start to say, but Din cuts you off.

“Did he make you…”  His back suddenly goes a little straighter, voice finding a quiet edge through the modulator as his fingers subtly twitch at his sides, “…Uncomfortable?”

You pull back at the sudden change in subject and furrow your eyebrows.

“Who, Karga?”  You have to think about it.  Did he make you uncomfortable, or were you just uncomfortable already?  You might’ve just been scared because you were making it scarier than it really was, you can admit that’s a valid possibility.  “Um… no?  I don’t know, not… not really, I don’t think.”

“No?”  He asks, taking a small step forward.  “You don’t know?  Or not really… you don’t think?”

You know you can only see the blade of his visor, but something makes you feel like you’re looking right in his eyes.  You even go back and forth between where you’re pretty confident each one is, trying to read his intentions right now.  It’s like he’s purposefully trying to keep space between you even though he looks like he wants to move closer, fisting his hands at his sides when he looks like he wants to touch you.

“No, he just… lowballed me towards the end of it and I got intimidated, but I’m also not…”  Your expression narrows in concentration while you try to find the words to explain yourself, wanting to be as honest as possible with him.  “I don’t know, I’m not like you.  I’m not that strong, but I’m trying to get better.  I think he was probably just being normal.  He did offer me alcohol a bunch, but I’m pretty sure he also did that last time, so—”

“And I didn’t like it the last time he did it,” Din says quietly, taking another small step forward.

You blink up at him, completely dumb.  This is what’s bothering him?  Is he really not upset with you at all for giving him more work?  It’s like the major fuckup on your behalf just went in one side of the helmet and out the other, he barely even acknowledged it other than the role Karga played.  He said it’s okay and you did good, which are like… five of the most common words in Galactic Basic, a Wookiee could probably find a way to say them.  How are you supposed to take that?  Were you just overthinking this whole thing from the very beginning?  You know anxiety tends to be irrational by definition, but has none of your panic from the past hour been justified whatsoever?

“Why were you so late?”  You ask him, but it’s not accusatory in the slightest.  It’s… concerned, worried about his well-being without having a real reason.  He’s clearly more than fine right now, he’s like a hurricane enclosed in metal and holding still in front of you.  Too much potential energy just waiting for a reason to be released, too much tension held tight and ready to snap.

“I’m sorry.”  He quickly reaches out to grab your hand and squeeze it, before dropping it just as quickly.  Fucking lightning quick, you’ll never understand how he can be so damn quick with all that extra weight strapped to him.  “It took longer than I thought it would and she’s not really someone you can rush.”  His response, ironically, feels very rushed, like he’s trying to address the tangent but also keep things on track, but something in the answer he gives catches your direct attention.  “Did he flirt with you?”

“Who is she and what can’t be rushed?”  You blurt at the same time, not even taking a split second to think about it.

Din stops short at the blunt question, staring at you in a silence that feels like it’s vaguely taken aback.

After a few moments of that… strangeness, of the two of you realizing that you’re both feeling slightly possessive over each other for absolutely no reason whatsoever, you start to feel… warm.  In another weirdly stupid, primitive way.  You know that letting those kinds of thoughts have their day in a relationship isn’t a good thing, but you can’t explain it.  Some deep-seated, prehistoric instinct inside you just goes fucking nuts whenever he gets in either provider or protector mode.  Now you understand exactly why he wanted to get you alone after you admitted to being jealous once before.  You totally fucking get it, you’re right there with him right now.  He hasn’t said anything, but you think he feels it, too.

“She makes things,” Din finally answers you, careful with his words and somehow managing to address your question while also sidestepping it, leaving you with only the smallest bit of information to go off of.  “Did he flirt with you?”

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly.  “Maybe.  He could’ve just been trying to be friendly.  What did she make for you?”

“She made it for you,” he responds, again not really answering the question but continuing to juggle two separate conversations for your benefit.  “Did he scare you?”

“For me?”  You ask, eyebrows shooting upwards.  Provider, that stupid cavewoman DNA whispers to your lower body, making your voice go a little breathless.  “You asked her to make something for me?”

“Did he scare you?”  Din repeats sternly, grabbing your hand and giving it a firm squeeze.  “Because I can go back, I swear—”

Protector, it whispers this time, and your knees nearly buckle.

“Everything is scary when I don’t know where you are,” you admit to him, knowing it’s the truth regardless of how self-deprecating it sounds.  The only times you’ve ever truly been brave was because of him or the kid.  Stabbing a Corellian and then immediately flying the Crest out to him afterwards, walking through a pitch black forest believing a dangerous criminal was hiding in it, dragging a dead body through snow and shoving it into carbonite, standing up for yourself and pushing a deal through when odds were stacked against you.  Though it’s nothing to him, it’s nothing, it’s leaps for you.  You’re slowly learning to find a backbone, and he’s the one inspiring it.

Din holds there for a moment, unmoving with his hand still clutching yours.  You can’t get a read on him but you know how you feel right now.  Achy.  Hot.  Needy.  Wanting him to come closer.

“Will you do something for me?”  He asks you after a prolonged silence.  His voice is quiet, but… incredibly restrained.  Controlled chaos—his body is rigid and he’s flexing muscles that aren’t necessary for just standing, feeling like a sprinter holding still on the starting blocks.

“Of course,” you breathe out.

Din lets go of your hand and tilts his helmet over at the corner of the hull behind you.  “Go turn around and face that wall.”

You freeze, immediately recognizing the undertone in his voice.  Heat ladles deep into the pit of your tummy, sends warmth pooling downwards.  He wants to do this here?  Right now?

“We’re—” you look around the enclosed hull, “Mando, we’re not in hyperspace, we haven’t even left the surface yet…”

He looks around too, taking a second to blankly take in his stagnant surroundings like he had absolutely fucking no idea, before turning back to you and not saying a word.  Maker, everything below your waist is already stirring, twisting hot and deep inside, but you’re trying to be the voice of reason for a second.

“What if somebody hears us?”  You whisper, and Din cocks his head to the other side.

“I can help you stay quiet,” he murmurs, and… fuck.  You don’t know what it means, but you immediately imagine his hand held tight over your mouth while he takes some of this stress out on you and you already feel yourself wilting at the thought.  Okay.

“Okay,” you breathe without needing anything else at all, before spinning around and standing exactly where he told you to.  It’s just a corner near the back of the hull, nothing else here to look at besides two metal panels meeting at a right angle, but that’s admittedly what makes your heart start beating quicker.  You can’t see him come up behind you but you can feel it.  Slow, measured, but so restrained.

But then he stops almost immediately, before the back of your shirt is suddenly being yanked upwards and you remember at the very last second.

Din carefully grips his blaster and then eases it out of your waistband, the metal sliding warm along your skin from pressing against it for so long.  You never told him you took it with you, and he’s so fucking quiet behind you.  You have no idea how he’s reacting to that piece of information you originally didn’t think twice about.

“Do you like carrying my gun around?”  Din’s voice murmurs soft through the modulator to you, but then the blaster is tossed uselessly to the side, skittering loudly across the floor of the hull.

“Yes,” you reply, beginning to shyly turn your head back to look at him, hoping to gauge his response.

“Don’t turn around,” he quickly interrupts you, pushing your shoulder back into position and keeping you facing the corner.  You blink at the metal walls in a bit of a daze but follow instructions regardless, feeling your heart pound at the sudden display of dominance from him.  He has a very valid reason for it and you don’t realize what it is until a few seconds later, but even if he didn’t and he was just telling you what to do for the fun of it… you’d still like it.

But then his helmet is carefully being lowered over your head and you shudder as your vision is replaced with a familiar black abyss.  Fuck, his helmet, why does he like it so much when you wear this?  Admittedly, you don’t have much time to contemplate—as soon as it’s fitted and secure, he spins you around and you have to just do your best to maintain your balance, not having any visual to help.

“Can you hear me?”  Din asks, and your clothes start to be ripped off of you.  Your shoulders tip sideways with how quick he is about it, feeling him pull the fabric off and hearing the soft sound it makes landing on the floor.

“Yes,” you tell him, but he doesn’t respond, continuing to strip you completely naked in the hull.  Once your upper body is bare and he’s yanking your pants and underwear down your legs, you try saying it again as you step out of them, louder for him this time.

“I can’t hear you,” his voice grunts after a moment.  You know he’s in front of you but you can’t really tell where, now that he’s not touching you.  “Scream.”

You take a second, not having hard evidence anymore but still very well aware that you’re parked close to a marketplace on Nevarro and multiple people are nearby while you’re wearing his helmet.  This is dangerous for him, and not sure if you should, but then an arm is wrapping around your back and a large leather palm rests directly over your chest.  Din repeats his last word very slowly and clearly for you, waiting to feel it under his hands.

Your sternum lifts while it rises with your deep breath and then collapses as you diligently yell as loud as you can into the helmet, feeling like you might deafen yourself with the trapped sound.

“Good,” he growls, suddenly spinning you around and pushing you back into the metal paneling.  “I can’t hear you, be as loud as you need.  Hit me or something, put up a fight if you want me to stop, alright?”

Arousal rockets through you and you let out a moan already, taking advantage of the noise suppression and beyond turned on at this point.  You feel like you’re buzzing with it, lit up with excitement and wondering with bated breath what he’s planning to do to you.

“Alright?”  Comes his voice from behind you once more, and you quickly jerk the heavy helmet in a nod for him.  You can put up a fight and you know he’ll stop, you don’t have any problem with that and the fact that he specifically made sure to wait until he knew you understood him makes you start to pant inside the hollow beskar.

But then you feel him flick a small switch at the base of the helmet and then everything abruptly cuts out and goes dead silent.

Nothing.  Nothing.  You’re standing in a pitch black room where no other sound exists besides your own labored breathing.  Just like the waterfall on Naboo, but you can’t speak this time.  Temporarily making you blind, deaf, and putting a proverbial gag over your mouth all with one powerful piece of armor.

You shudder and he kicks your legs apart before you can do much else, yanking your hips back while you just try your best to cling to the wall for stability.  You don’t know what he’s going to do, you’re completely isolated in here and the only way you can even tell he dropped to his knees is the hot glide of his tongue through your pussy from behind.

Oh fuck—you arch into position as best you can while hands wrap around your ankles to pull them apart, trying to make the angle better.  His tongue licks softly over your clit and each time is like an electric shock jolting through your body, making you twitch back and up for him, stretching and begging him to do it again.  You can’t see anything right now so your mind readily imagines the visuals instead, providing you with a third party view.  Din, fully clothed and face shielded by your thighs, eating you out from behind while you brace yourself against the wall, completely naked and at his mercy, head tilted down from the weight of his helmet and living for the moments he decides to drag his tongue across your clit.

Without warning, a sudden burst of sensation ripples along your backside and causes you to lift the beskar in surprise, but without being able to hear anything, it takes you a second to figure out that he just smacked your ass.  The realization comes more or less at the exact time he decides to flatten his tongue and follow the curve of you back and up.

You gasp into the pitch black and there’s a moment where you just hold utterly still for him, experiencing and processing the sensation for the very first time.  His mouth is soft and warm as he tastes you here, his fingers digging into the swell of your cheeks to spread you open.  You’re glad your face is hidden so he can’t see the shock in your expression, the way your mouth drops and your eyes close as you let him explore you this way.

His gloved hands leave you for just a moment while he continues gliding his tongue against you, along every single bit of skin he can reach, and then you feel a bare hand reach up between your legs and begin to rub slow circles around your clit.  His other arm pushes against your lower back and you’re forced into the corner even more, your naked breasts pressing hard against cool metal and feeling his hot mouth and strong fingers work you closer to the edge from behind.

You’re panting into the helmet, your hips arching back to feel that stimulation on your clit better, and as his fingers move over it slow and strong, you feel a soft vibration against your skin and you realize he’s moaning into you.  The knowledge sparks a different kind of heat through you and makes you suddenly go still and tense right here.  If he stays just like this for even just a few more seconds, you’re going to cum.

“Din, I’m gonna cum,” your voice warbles inside the enclosed steel—just as his touch decides to abandon your body.  You groan loudly in distress, completely alone without his hands or mouth on you anymore, but all he likely hears is the silence of the hull and the way your palm smacks against the wall with it.  You were so close, everything feels like it’s pulled up so tight and painful and it hurts—

A hand clutches your hip and then a thick cock is suddenly pushing up against your soaking wet entrance, going to alleviate that twisting discomfort.  Your eyes roll back and your whole body goes limp as he slowly eases forward and breaks you open, fitting himself deep inside where you love to feel him most.  Your hands claw down the walls with a swell of bliss as he pulls out and then starts thrusting—and fuck, you love this.  You love the way he’s trapping you up against the corner and making you see stars at the same time, the way he’s supporting your weight but crushing down into you, too.  It makes you go boneless and want to riot simultaneously, groaning loud into the quiet abyss as he gives you what you both desperately needed.

One of his hands sinks down between your legs to play with your clit again, while a slick finger presses up against your ass and you gasp as he slowly penetrates you there, too.  Din’s hips work steady and powerful behind you, pushing you into the wall with every desperate thrust, using the arm shoved between your legs to support you as well as stimulate, and you just feel yourself move into a different place.  You don’t have a name for it but it feels like hyperspace.  Silence so loud it feels suppressing, faster than anything light can touch, nowhere and everywhere, hurtling towards something you can’t see but know lies in the distance.  You can tell he’s still fucking the tension out of his body, you can feel him working another wet finger inside you and stretching the virgin muscles back there, but every sensation begins to slowly blur together in a wicked uprising of ecstasy.

You don’t know where you are anymore, just that his fingers keep rubbing your clit and you think he's trying to ease a third into you when your destination abruptly arrives.

You nearly collapse when you cum, contracting so hard around his cock and fingers that you cry out unexpectedly—and because of the helmet, you think it’s just as unexpected for him.  He stops moving—everything stops moving besides you.  Your hips stutter backwards into his stationary body, dragging your clit back and forth against the tips of his unmoving fingers and fucking him as best you can.  It shatters white hot and goes straight through to your soul, wringing pleasure and wetness between your legs in waves.

Your knees are knocking against each other when Din pulls out, his cock still deliciously hard and now soaking wet with your cum, and then they just suddenly decide to give up without warning.  You don’t fall necessarily, but you do slowly slide down the wall like a slug and Din follows you to the floor instead of holding you up any longer.  His sternum moves quick and heavy against your back as he breathes and then suddenly the same switch at the base of his helmet is flicked, and sound bursts into existence all at once.

He’s panting.  Harsh breaths behind you that match the rapid pace of his chest, and the ambient noise of the rest of the hull.

“Can you hear me?”  He gasps, sounding fucking wrecked, and you nod the helmet against the wall while gravity and exhaustion and his beskar chestplate squishes you into it.  “P-Put up a fight if you want me t-to stop, p-please—” he rasps out, almost the entire thing air and so close to cumming, and then his knees lift just slightly and the blunt head of his cock presses against your other entrance.

And, if you wanted, you absolutely could.  He’s got you boxed into the corner but he’s not constricting your movements, he’s given you every ability to struggle.  You could easily throw an elbow back against his side, push against the wall to shove him away, smack at his arms or even just flail against his body in panic—you could do one or all of those things to signal him to stop and you know he’d do it immediately, he’s asking you to.  You could struggle.  If you wanted.

Instead, you just grab hold of the beskar strapped to his thigh and drop the helmet to your chest, nearly vibrating with the thrill and preparing yourself for it.  You know he’s gotta be inches away from orgasm, you know from the tone of his voice that he’s right there on the edge and it’s not like it’s going to last a long time.  Thanks to him, you also feel like you’re just as slick and wet back there as you are between your legs, stretched open by his fingers while you came all over him.  You want nothing more than to give this to him, to let him be the only person in the universe that knows how you feel this way.

When you pointedly do not put up a fight and even go so far as to arch your lower back for him in presentation, Din curses and his fingers begin jerking back and forth over your sensitive clit once more.  It might normally be too much for you, but your body is sparking with lust and quickly acclimates to the stimulation, learning to burn and ache for it, too.  Fuck, it feels so good, you tense and melt into it at the same time, letting him ease you back up to that peak once more.

He pushes up against the tight ring of skin and you can’t fucking explain it—his fingers keep rubbing your clit and he’s slowly pushing into your ass and—

“I—I think I’m—” you suddenly lift the helmet to gasp out in surprise, forgetting he can’t hear you, “ngh—D-Din, I think I’m gonna c—”

He’s just barely able to breach the tight entrance and fit the head inside before he freezes—and even though everything happens consecutively, it’s all so rapid that it feels simultaneous.

Your hips could go forward, but they don’t.  Your body decides to send you backwards into him, pushing him inside nearly halfway all at once as your muscles lock down and just fucking strangle his cock.  Your piercing scream gets trapped in the silence of his helmet as you cum once more—painfully, madly and with every fucking part of you for him.  There’s maybe one or two mind shattering pulses of ecstasy before the rest of your body catches up and starts convulsing, and by then Din is already gasping and fumbling behind you, suddenly realizing what’s happening without hearing the sound of your ragged warnings and then ripping himself away just in time.

He punches out your name when he cums like you just fucking snapped him in half—his body hunches and the beskar digs hard into your back as warmth starts splattering along your skin.  You crumple while he shoves his hips up against your spine, riding and working the orgasm out of himself while yours just fucking obliterates you.  You think you whine his name—or a curse word or something, but it gets strained and your lungs lose air every time his powerful armored body humps you into the wall of his ship.

Finally he eases up and you just lay there and listen to the ringing in your ears.  Blissfully empty, still pulsing from cumming so hard and feeling like your bones just decided to stop existing and the rest of you was okay with it since you were already on the floor anyways.  You feel him shudder and twitch behind you, letting go of that last bit of tension until he too allows gravity to slouch his heavy torso over onto you.

You both stay like that for a while, until your eyes close and your everything below your waist goes numb.  Eventually you feel him shift and your head bobbles as the helmet is slowly removed, but a large palm cradles your chin to stop your face from slamming into the wall in exhaustion once it’s off.  You just continue to melt into the paneling like you’re nothing more than goo of a human being while he trades it back to its rightful place on his shoulders and tucks his cock back into his pants, before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you both up.  The floor and metal walls, once feeling like you and them were one, suddenly decide to disappear entirely as you’re hauled up into Din’s powerful arms.

He slowly carries your naked, fucked senseless body over to the fresher, and you squint your eyes open over his shoulder to see… he’s still got his rifle slung around his back while his cum is dripping down yours.  Not a single thing on him is out of place and you’re, well… a mess is a word that works.  Limp and doll-like, carried like your weight is practically nothing to him after years of having the densest armor known to the galaxy strapped to his body.

Setting you down is a mess, too.  At some point you think he just gives up and decides to return you to your humble floor abode with a patience and care unexpected from someone who just defiled you so thoroughly.  You hear the fresher door open and the faucet squeak, before he turns back around and crouches to your level.

“Stay here,” Din tells you lowly, his modulated voice coming gentle and warm through the sounds of water raining down against metal.  You don’t feel his touch directly, but your hair moves away from your face.  “I’ll be right back, okay—just stay here.”

Can do.  Easy.  He waits until you murmur a soft mhm to him before he leaves the tiny compartment, and then you soon hear his heavy footsteps ascending the ladder to the cockpit.

***

You don’t think you fall asleep, but the powering up of the Crest’s thrusters make you realize your eyes were closed.  Opening them barely qualifies as a squint though; you look around to see steam slowly filling the fresher, the water already running hot and welcoming in the small room.

You know you need to shower but you’re so fucking exhausted, you feel like you can’t even move your body.  You also know you can just do the same exact thing in there as you’re doing in here, you just need to muster up the energy necessary to get inside it and then fall back asleep.  He set you down in the small little space outside the shower door and then got everything set up for you, you can at least stand up and take a few steps.

Unfortunately, you might pick just about the worst time possible to plant your hands on the ground and work to struggle upright on all fours like a newborn animal.  The steady rise through Nevarro’s atmosphere pushes gravity down harder than you’re expecting—is he trying to fly quickly or are you just that dead-limbed?—and then of course, by the time you do manage to fight it and successfully get on two wobbly legs to hold yourself up, the subtle shift of the hyperdrive kicking in nearly knocks you back down again.  You stumble and grab the walls, bracing yourself against them and looking down at your knees in exasperation.  Come on, work.  Move forward.  Come on.

You’re glad he’s not here to witness this monstrosity, honestly.  Just opening the door and taking a few steps into the fresher is a feat—while you’re not in any pain and he didn’t leave any marks on you, you just feel… steamrolled.  Ran over by a truck.  Only having the strength to keep your feet beneath you as you finally move under the water and close the door behind you.

Oh, but this is wonderful.  This was such a good idea, he’s so fucking smart.  The shower falls warm and lovely against your body, wetting your hair and immediately heating you down to your bones.  You don’t move really at all—you kinda just stand there and slouch, closing your eyes against the spray and slowly breathing the mist into your lungs.  It feels so nice—not really restorative even though you like that word, it would imply the water provides you with any energy whatsoever.  It just feels like a comfort, a relief and sedative for your already wildly fatigued body.

You haven’t been in here for more than a minute or two when knuckles tap gently against the metal walls of the fresher, before the natural bass of Din’s unmodulated voice murmurs from somewhere beyond it.  “Hey.  Keep your eyes closed.”

How did he know?  You figured you’d be way ahead of him.  You’re standing but slumped over, wanting nothing more than to just say fuck gravity and pass out right here.  The walls are too cold to lean against now that you’re all toasty from the heat and steam, so you’re just unconsciously swaying on your feet, trying to balance the precedence of sleeping versus not falling over.  You don’t even comprehend the sudden flip of the light switch overhead beyond the fact that it makes it easier to snooze without being so bright behind your eyelids.

The door eventually opens at the very same time you realize you never answered him, but you just commit to the silence at this point.  It’s easy, you like it.  Soon you feel warm hands touch your shoulders, slowly spinning you around while you follow and hang your head, your neck not wanting to support it any longer, and then suddenly a bare chest is pressing up against you and powerful arms are wrapping around your body, and you can just lean all of your weight into him while your head rests right here on his shoulder.

He holds you without moving for a long time, keeping you just like this—your ear pressed against his skin while water rains hot and comfortable down your back.  Knowing you’re facing one of the walls, you crack your heavy lids just the slightest bit and finally notice the tiny compartment is dim and shrouded—the only light source is a single one coming from somewhere in the hull beyond the partially closed doorway.  It’s dark and quiet and you can barely see anything besides the metallic fresher walls and unfocused droplets chasing each other down Din’s naked skin.  Just you and him, flowing water with a sheet metal backdrop.

You think you spend an eternity like that and yet you still find yourself wanting another when he finally shifts, reaching over you to grab a bar of his generic soap but making sure to use the arm whose shoulder you’re not currently resting against.

It glides slow and hypnotic down your back, dragging up over your sides and then back down the curve of your spine.  He’s so sturdy and he doesn’t say a word while he does it, lathering it along your body and rubbing it into your skin.  His bar of soap, not yours.  They started out almost the same since you picked them up at the same vendor, but there’s just a slightly bolder and sharper scent to his that you recognize.  How the bar is far larger than yours because of how often he’s gone away.

Your eyes droop and you feel the water trail over your lips, dripping down your chin and pooling the dip of his collarbone.  The only other time you two shared this fresher was terrifying and he’s rewriting the memories right now, whether consciously or not.  Hot water, not freezing cold.  Standing upright and supporting you.  Heart beating strong under your ear, taking care of you this time until you can care for yourself.

You… you just worry so much more now, it’s becoming an issue.  You didn’t realize how much until you nearly lost him, and you know in your heart that he’s just going to go away again.  Throw himself into more danger, tempt death as always, risk his life for mere credits while all you can provide in return is this.  Skin to skin contact.  Someone to hold.  Someone who knows him, who knows the way he struggles between reaching out for a softness that life has always denied him and clinging to what is rough and familiar.  Someone to remind him that there’s still gentle and forgiving things in this galaxy that won’t disappear when he’s gone, and that he can always come home to them, as long as he can manage to find his way back.

Something sad tugs hard at your chest.  You want to tell him not to leave.  Again, again—you want nothing more than to beg him to stay.  You don’t have anything better to offer instead; if he asked you how it would work, how you imagine your lives would go if he wasn’t hunting quarry on a constant timetable, you’d be hard-pressed.  You don’t know.  But you know what you want to say, because it’s two words you shouldn’t say but always find yourself needing to say regardless.  

Don’t go.

But, instead of two words, you give him three.

Instead of asking him not to leave you again… in the haze and comfort of his arms, you think you just tell him that you love him.

And… you also don’t think the water falling down on the two of you is loud enough to cover it up this time.

It’s not ideal, you know.  You know.  From his point of view, he just got finished releasing all sorts of pent up tension on you, overwhelming your body with the strength and power of his in a way that normal people wouldn’t take as an expression of affection.  But you know him.  You know that he finds it much easier to express the things he feels in a physical way, which is why there’s a bar of soap against your back right now instead of his voice in your ear, telling you all the things you’ve always wanted to hear from him in return.  You know that sex is how this all began and it’s likely just the closest link between roughness and sweetness that he can really put his hands on, something that can fit him equally as well as it fits you.  Love is different, it’s thrilling and scary.  Even to someone like him, who lives everyday of his life surrounded by thrilling and scary things, who’s seen more bloodshed and suffering and pain than you can ever even imagine, you know that it’s scary.

Din doesn’t say anything back to your confession, and truthfully, not a single part of you was expecting him to.  It wasn’t said so he could say it back.  It just is.  Some things don’t need explanations, they just are.  You’re okay with that.

But, you eventually come to realize that he always waits until you’re just on the very edges of sleep, holding out until your blurry vision and fading consciousness can trick you into thinking you only imagined it.  You won’t ever figure out if it’s purposeful or if he just needs that long to find what he wants to say.

Another soft, lilting sentence in a language you wouldn’t be able to translate, even if you could pick out a single word.  It sounds so beautiful though, regardless of how mysterious and far away its meaning feels.  There’s something hidden underneath.  You ache to know what it is.

But you’re so tired.  You just whine softly against his shoulder, not being able to transform the thoughts into sentences anymore but hoping he understands regardless.  He can’t just resort to bearing his soul in Mando’a all the time now, especially when you’re always on the verge of sleep when he chooses to do so.

But at some point, his arms subtly tighten around you and the pressure is one of the only things that’s keeping you awake anymore.

“I won’t ever ask you to,” he says to you, the quietness of his baritone getting lost in the gentle spray and your looming slumber.  “I’m…  not allowed to ask.  I can’t.”

Your expression twitches just the slightest bit against his shoulder in confusion, wondering distantly what word or sentence you must’ve missed from before that would make him make sense.  Was that a translation?  Or a continuation?

But then your wet hair is slowly moved away from your nape and his head tilts down, face pressing into your neck and voice lowering until it’s nothing more than a breath against your skin, nothing more than a confession that he couldn’t ever say out loud with his full chest.  It’s a secret he only ever wants you to know, a truth he’s choosing to admit to even though you could ruin him with it.  You have no idea how much, you won’t know for a long time just how much power he’s giving you by telling you this one very simple thing.

“But whenever you want to look,” Din finally whispers, the only version of I love you too that a Mandalorian knows.  “You can.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #fanfic #reader-insert #rough day #no-droids #smut

[bisexual-bitch-blogs]

hi this is my first time sending a request like this, would it be ok to ask for a threesome with two mean doms zhongli and diluc, with maybe overstimulation, spanking, rough sex, choking, bondage, orgasm denial, degrading,,,, 👉👈 thank u so much for ur service 🙏

"Bullies"

Dom Diluc/Zhongli X Sub Fem Reader

That's a lot of kinks. But I'm not complaining. Um I did have not have any pics of Diluc and Zhongli together so I did a simple 5 sec editing and here ya go! Sorry this took so long. Thank you for reading!

POV You bought a new friend home. It's a harmless hydro slime and your boyfriends dont approve of it. You get pouty and they punish you

Includes: Overstimulation, Spanking, Rough sex, Choking, Bondage, Orgasm denial, degrading, Dacryphilia, dumbification

❤💛--------------------------------------💛❤

You were living every girl's dream. Dating Diluc, the stoic bartender and Zhongli, the walking history of Liyue book.

How did you attract them? Simple, you were a cute crybaby working as an adventurer. Not a surprise when their sadistic personas screamed to make you cry even harder.

Telling you right here and now. They're gentlemen in the streets but assholes in the sheets. You loved them with all your heart but they're so mean in bed. You can't even tell them to stop because they know you actually liked it.

Anyways, enough about them. After finishing your last commission, you bought a small blue slime home because it was so cute. Not only that. It was harmless seeing as it kept following you around like a dog. Carrying the bundle of joy in your arms, you entered Dawn Winery Manor, the workers stared in astonishment watching the hydro being nestled between your breast, purring.

Simultaneously, your lovers came out from wherever they were and greeted you.

"Welcome home, darling/dear-"

They were cut off, seeing the suppose hostile mob snoozing away in your embrace. You greeted them back.

"I'm home, Luc! Li!"

Zhongli's porcelain face scrunched up in disgust seeing the slimy creature. Why the hell did you bring it into their sleeping quarters? Is that thing just made a smug face at him?? Nah hes just delusional cuz of jealously and disgust or smth

Diluc doesn't hate slimes like the Geo Archon does but not does he like them either. Rather the crimson haired thought of them as nuisances to his business.

You asked.

"I found this slime following me and thought it was harmless. Why not take it home? Can we keep it please~?"

The males looked at each and nodded before turning back to look at you. They said.

"No."

You were taken back, baffled.

"What? Why??!"

The red haired male huffed, explaining.

"I probably would not mind, perhaps let you put it in a tank and take care of it however you know how Zhongli has a very strong hate for anything slimy."

You pouted.

"Then it doesn't need to be near Li and it'll be fine!"

You were determine to have this small slime be your companion during adventuring time. Forget seelies. Forget your boyfriends disapproval. Your going to keep it in the guest room and sleep with the squishy blue ball there.

Just as you were about to run away. Diluc grabbed you by the waist, carrying you over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, making you drop your little companion. It bounces away, squeaking. You called out, hitting the red head's lower back, weakly with your fists.

"Hey! What was that for?!"

! SMACK !

Flinching, a swift slap was delivered to your bum and you didn't know who did it. Zhongli said.

"After we said no. You still take it in? Bad girl. I believe punishment must be ordered."

You blabbered in disbelief.

Suddenly, you were tossed onto the bed, sinking into the soft sheets of comfort, your clothes were ripped off by 2 pairs of greedy hands.

Perhaps you froze in shock when they toss away your scattered remains of clothing but they're already naked, their little friends exposed yet not awakened.

Zhongli hand gripped around your throat tightly, cutting off your air way. Meanwhile, your pyro lover ran his hot wet tongue over your folds, dampening your entrance. Tears gather at the corner of your eyes, feeling hazy at the lack of air yet hot. When Zhongli took away his coarse hand away from your throat, you desperately gasped for air. Without time to rest, the geo user pressed down on your hardened buds with his thumbs. You gave a breathy moan, stilling trying to catch the air you desperately needed in your lungs.

Diluc lapped at the slick you produced from your core, his nose rubbed against your clit making you shake every 5 seconds. Taking this as a distraction. The ravenette clipped your hard buds with some sort of unique silver nipple clamps.

It stung and Zhongli is not helping by tugging on them. You complained.

"I-It hurts!"

Nothing new. They whispered comforting words but you couldn't hear them cause of the erratic beating of your heart through your ears.

Something hot entered your entrance so you looked down and saw it was Diluc's digits thrusting in and out, occasionally rubbing a weird spot that made you moan out loud. Any attempts to close your legs, resulted in your smooth legs bended over your head and harsh spankings. Diluc reprimanded.

"Bad slut."

! SMACK !

! SMACK !

! SMACK !

Losing counts of how many time the pyro user landed a hit on each of your ass cheeks. Tears ran down your face like a waterfall, feeling the burn on your poor bottom. The nerve when Diluc rubbed them, hoping to soothe the pain. Well it ain't working. Bet it's all red now but it'll be bruised tomorrow.

Out of habit you bound your thighs together. However, your archon lover decided to tie your ankles and wrist to the corners of the bed.

Your head was turned to the side facing a big angry weeping member pressing against your lips.

"Open your mouth and take it all in like the pretty whore you are. You wanted us to punish you in the first place. That's why you disobeyed."

You gaped, screaming in your mind.

'ILLOGICAL! WE DID THIS JUST YESTERDAY."

Zhongli took the opportunity of your slightly opened mouth and slammed his member down your throat. You gagged, quickly trying to adjust to the large accompany in your mouth.

Man, they really manhandling you today. The ruby eyed male also plunges his length into your entrance, slowly pulling it out to the tip then pushing the rest in. You mewled in etascy. In sync, they fucked you at a rough pace. Just as you were about to release, they slowed down. You softly whine, tugging your hands, weakly at the restraints.

"Would you look at that. Our pretty whore wants to cum. Does she deserve it, mister Diluc?"

With a expression of annoyance, the red head rejected.

"No."

They continued the torture; fucking you at a relentless pace and when your about to reach your high, they slow down before repeating the process.

You cried, miserably. Their teasing was just endless. Letting them do whatever to your body, you felt your eyes roll up. The pyro user, chuckles.

"How cute. We fucked her brains out. She took her punishment so well. She deserves a reward, no?"

Zhongli takes off the toys pinching your swelling nipples, agreeing with the other male.

"Yes, even a bitch needs to cum at some point. Let her cum all she wants."

You didn't register the fact they pulled out their lengths, already taking off the restraints when they turn you over onto your stomach, doggy style. Their members slid back into you no problem. It was like your holes was made for them or they fucked you so much, your body's insides molded to their dick shape.

You moaned over and over again, cumming for who knows how many times. You were conscious however your mind was somewhere else.

Since they took away your walking privileges for the next 2 weeks, you get to keep the slime. Haha in your face geo daddy.

You named the small of hydro element, Puppy cause why not?

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

Again sorry for the wait! I'm trying to manage my schedule to scoot in a writing here and there since I also have Wattpad to deal with.

This one took a while but I am very excited for the next nsfw/crack request coming up and hope to achieve big brain for it.

#genshin impact #genshin+impact+x+reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin zhongli #zhongli #diluc x reader #genshin diluc #diluc imagines #zhongli x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader

[meltwonu]

| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 |     [Chapter 1] 

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader

this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, dom!wonwoo, dirty talk, masturbation, sex toys, mentions of sexting/sending photos/videos, baby this has hella plot lmao dkhf 🥴💕 WELCOME TO UNTIL I MET YOU!! THE MINI-SEQUEL TO CAFFEINE! A bit of a shorter chapter but I didn’t want to overload with too much everything in the first chapter, ykwim? 😎 Thank you so much for your patience with this sequel, I know there were a ton of people asking for a sequel for months after I said I would 💕😭😭 As always, inbox roundup tomorrow! And don’t forget, next chapter for UIMY goes up on Feb 26th! T|H ch 1 next Friday! 🥰💕 Enjoy ch 1, have a great weekend and I love you! 💕

chapters; 1 - x - x - x - x

“Mmh… Wonwoo…”

His hands roam all over your naked body; warmth spreading all over when he digs his blunt fingernails into the skin of your waist.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Did you miss me, sweetheart?” His voice is soft, gentle, yet teasing; barely above a whisper as your back bows off of the bed to lean into his simple touches. “I missed you, sweetheart. Missed your ‘lil cunt too.”

A choked sob falls from your lips, followed quickly by rushed, hurried cries for Wonwoo to move faster.

“Don’t you want me to take my time? We haven’t seen each other in months.” 

There’s a smirk on his lips, eyes twinkling with mischief when you reply back with a shaky whine. “Don’t you want me to slide my cock into your pretty ‘lil pussy nice ‘n slow? Let you feel every inch of me filling you up, just like it’s the first time all over again.” He stares at you dreamily; fixated on the way your body chases his hands when he drags them down to your thighs. “Or would you prefer it if I fucked you hard and fast? Your cute body squirming and trembling from how good I give it to you and my cock slamming into your tight ‘lil cunt.”

Wonwoo’s fingertips spread your folds as he licks his lips; appreciating how wet you already were for him.

“Bet your toys don’t feel as good as the real thing, huh?”

You shake your head ‘no’ furiously, “N-no, god, no! Wonwoo, p-please!” The male grins down at you, pouting mockingly at your desperate, pleading eyes. 

The wetness between your legs is unbearable and the sobs are caught in your throat when Wonwoo leans over you, lips ghosting across your own.

“Okay. Just say--”

You’re shocked awake by your alarm clock; chest heaving in deep breaths as you sit up in your crumpled sheets. “Oh, fuck...” Groaning, your clammy palms reach for the ringing device as you shut it off and sigh.

The clock reads 10:02AM; tired eyes trying to blink away the sleep that threatens to take you back to the dreamland you much preferred. Although, dreaming about Wonwoo was becoming a little bit too common these last few days.

Sighing once more, you move to get out of bed; already finding your panties soaking wet and sticking to you like a second skin when you stand.

“Ugh... Damn it.”

You press the vibrator harder onto your clit; teeth chattering with the pleasure that pours over your body.

“Oh, god, please, p-please…”

Images of Wonwoo dance behind your eyelids; sultry smirks and teasing glances bringing you closer and closer to the edge of an orgasm.

If there was anything that the last few months without Wonwoo taught you, it was that you couldn’t afford to lose him - in more ways than one. And despite his lack of calls or even text messages, you held out in hopes he still felt the same way that you did despite the distance.

You sent him pictures and videos of yourself often; teasing images half naked, toys in hand, and videos crying out his name while you came. And while he took the time to reply to those with praise and adoration, he almost never sent anything back. 

When he did, it was always short, clipped replies of how exhausted he was and how he didn’t have much time.

“Ngh, h-harder…” Your toes curl against the bedsheet; phantom feelings of his cock fucking you hard and deep making you cry out in desperation to be filled by his cock.

Your phone rings on the nightstand next to you as you cum - vibrator pressed so hard against your clit that your back bows off of the sheets while your thighs shake uncontrollably. 

And for the first time in a long time, it’s an orgasm that feels like it’s worth something.

‘Gyu: hey did wonwoo text u?

‘Gyu: he’s back next monday he said

‘Gyu: idk abt classes tho, might be out of commission for a while bc jetlag

‘Gyu: thinking abt throwing him a party on friday after he comes back...

‘Gyu: u wanna plan with us orrrrr? U got a private party or sth 🥴😏

‘Gyu: lmk

You’re nervous. Shy, even.

After you’d come down from your orgasm and checked your phone, your mind momentarily went blank from shock and the first thing you’d done was text Wonwoo to ask if he was really coming back that soon.

‘Ah, yeah, I was just about to text you. Prof said we can go home early if we wanted since we finished up classes. I’ll see you sometime next week? Jetlag and stuff.’, was all he had said and in your excited state, the only thing you had responded with was an, ‘Okay, great!’, without asking when, where, or what time.

You figured you’d give him some time to readjust instead of bombarding him as soon as he got in. But each second that you knew Wonwoo was home, you found yourself itching to just be in his presence.

You just had to be a little more patient.

Wednesday morning comes and you find yourself skipping your morning class to go to the library.

For studying, you tell yourself.

The male at the receptionist table shoots you a small smile to which you awkwardly smile back before ducking into an empty aisle. All you knew was that it seemed like Wonwoo wasn’t here.

Maybe he’s still at the frat house, you wonder.

Sighing slightly under your breath, you decide that maybe getting some work done would actually help distract you from looking for the male.

You find an empty table, setting your things down before pulling out your phone. 

In all honesty, you weren’t even sure why you were being so shy and nervous about contacting Wonwoo, especially when you so unabashedly sent him nudes every few days when he was away. 

Although, with how things had been before he left and the prospect of actually dating once he came back from his semester abroad - the butterflies in your stomach had been nonstop with the different scenarios that played out in your head. You’d even gone so far as to plan what happened if Wonwoo had decided he didn’t want to make an attempt at dating you.

“Sweetheart?”

The grip you have on your phone only tightens as you whip your head around to find Wonwoo standing behind your chair and you swear your heart stops beating the same time your breath gets caught in your throat. “H-huh?”

He smiles gently down at you and you can’t help but wonder how long you were spaced out to not notice him there. 

“Is this a dream too?” You wonder aloud - Wonwoo chuckling in response as he moves to collect your things for you.

“Have you been dreaming about me that much, sweetheart?” You stutter and stumble over your words; embarrassment eating at you every second that Wonwoo has a knowing smile plastered on his lips.

“C’mon, let’s go get something to eat since we both know you’re not really here to study.”

The version of Wonwoo that sits across the cafe table is… different.

Not bad, just different.

His arms are much tanner and definitely more muscular and the glasses missing from his face lets you appreciate his eyes even more when they’re not hidden behind the thick frames. He had even opted to wear a sleeveless shirt; something that you weren’t used to when he usually was around campus in long sleeves and sweater vests.

Although, you can’t and won’t deny the way your body reacts to this Wonwoo.

“Hey, I’m talking to you and you’re just spacing out.” Muttering, he leans over the small cafe table until his face is only inches away from yours and the smirk on his lips already lets you know that you’ve been caught staring.

“Listen, I know I’ve been gone for three months but you’re lookin’ at me like you haven’t had a fix in all that time.” Your lips press into an embarrassed firm line, avoiding his stare as he raises a brow at you.

“Wait, you didn’t fuck anyone in the three months I was gone?”

“No… did you?” Your voice is barely above a whisper; a little afraid that his answer will be ‘yes’ when he takes a second longer to respond.

“Nah,��� He settles back into his seat, “I told you, didn’t I? I was willing to try the whole… dating, relationship thing with you when I got back. Although, I’m somewhat surprised one of the others didn’t try to seduce you while I was gone.”

You laugh slightly, cheeks warm as Wonwoo teases. “I wouldn’t have given them the time of day anyway.”

Your entire body burns hot, palms clammy in your lap from how giddy you were to be with Wonwoo and it made your heart do backflips knowing that he’d still been willing to try with you.

“Ah, how was it abroad anyway? You… didn’t really say much over the past few months so I feel like I don’t know how you were. Just some messages about how tired you were...” He takes a sip of his coffee; unintentionally making you internally scream when his lips form a pout while he thinks.

“Honestly? Other than the days we were excavating ‘n stuff, it was pretty boring. Really hectic though, and a lot of documenting which meant a lot of paperwork. I swear, I closed my eyes and I saw the inside of my textbooks.” He chuckles lightly, eyes focused on the cup of coffee in front of him.

“I just want to say sorry for my lack of communication. I really didn’t expect to be so busy that I couldn’t even pick up a call.” There’s a genuine apologetic look on Wonwoo’s face when he looks back at you. “And the time difference was really rough too. I didn’t want to take it out on you over the phone if I was stressed about not sleeping or the workload. I know we can get a little rough when we ‘play’ but this wasn’t that and it wouldn’t have been fair.”

Oh.

“T-that’s okay, I understand!” Your heart does somersaults in your chest, “I--thank you for thinking about me too.”

The feelings you have bubbling up inside of you make you feel like you’re falling in love for the first time, all over again. “Um… Sorry I sent so many pictures ‘n stuff.”

Wonwoo laughs, this time throwing his head back slightly before he tries to hide his wide grin. “Oh, sweetheart. Don’t apologize.” Your eyes meet his and for a split second, you see the familiar dominating look in his eyes before he leans over the small cafe table again.

“I might’ve not had all the time to entertain you those times but I thought about you alllll the time. I missed everything about you.” His voice is barely above a whisper - careful to not let anyone else in the cafe hear the topic of conversation. “Which, by the way…You piqued my interest earlier with your question. You never really answered my question about having dreams about me.”

You shift in your seat as you avert your eyes from his; eyes flitting down his toned body instead as you mentally curse yourself.

“I… kinda? I m-mean… not normally but just--just these last few days. It’s almost been every night… I wake up and--and it’s just… I’m...” You trail off; somewhat shy to say the rest of what you were going to say even though you’re almost certain Wonwoo already knows.

“Odd. Me too. I kept dreaming about you, which is, honestly, kind of why I thought to come back earlier.”

“Oh?”

“Mm, we still had 2 weeks left, technically. A bit of a spillover since my professor wanted us to explore the city once finals were over. But I just wanted to come home.” He finishes with a chuckle - a soft look in his eyes.

You pout back at him, “You didn’t come home early just for ‘lil ‘ol me, did you?” You say it jokingly, but deep down you do wonder.

“Would that be so bad?” Grinning, Wonwoo sets a couple of bills down onto the table to cover the meals you both barely have touched.

“Like I said, I missed everything about you, sweetheart.”

Wonwoo walks you back to your place afterwards; laughing and joking with you as if he hadn’t been gone for the last 3 months. 

There’s a certain playfulness about him that makes your heart bloom and part of you wonders if he’s opening up to you more now that there’d been some time apart.

“Are you gonna be working at the library again? Or is that done forever now?” “Mm.. I mean, it’d be kind of weird if I stopped, don’t you think?”

The grin of his face is telling and you have to mentally stop yourself from letting your mind wander in the middle of the sidewalk. “Y-yeah... Studying in my apartment isn’t really the same, y’know…”

Laughing, Wonwoo takes the opportunity to swing an arm around your shoulder as he tucks you under his arm. “I was actually at the library earlier to ask about my position back. I start tomorrow.” Goosebumps rise on your skin and the close proximity is enough to make you whimper.

“I’m only taking two classes this semester to give myself a bit of a break so I’ll be in the library more often to fill up the time. You can always call me if you need to know where I am. I promise I’ll respond this time, sweetheart.”

Before you know it, the two of you are already standing outside of your complex as Wonwoo takes his arm off of you.

“Will I be seeing you tomorrow?” There’s a hopeful lilt to his voice that has you nodding feverishly in return.

“I have a morning class but I’ll come by in the afternoon? I can text you to let you know, just in case.” You offer back.

Wonwoo licks his lips, tilting his head before leaning down and kissing you on the forehead.

The soft gesture momentarily throws you off as you freeze but the smoldering look in Wonwoo’s eyes when he pulls away lets you know that he’s already scheming.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

#fratboy!wonwoo #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt scenarios #wonwoo #wonwoo fic #jeon wonwoo #uimy_meltwonu #svt fic

[capt-spooki3]

...And Sunrises Were Worse

A sequel to Sunsets Never Felt The Same...

Pairing: Revivebur and Reader

Warnings: blood mentions, fighting, angsty feelings, kissing, manipulativebur

Y/n was finally recovering after the unfortunate demise of their lover just to find, he is back and better than ever...

3.6k words

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Y/n watched him from afar, arms open wide as he took in the rays from the rising sun.

“This is my sunrise..”

Hearing the words from him sent chills through their whole body. Watching him stand there, alive and grinning like a mad man, made them sick. Whether it was from shock, disbelief, or anger they weren’t sure yet.

It had been nine whole years that he had been gone and the only piece of him left was his ghost. Ghostbur was a comforting presence, but it just took so much for them not to try and question Ghostbur on why he left them. Not only did his ghost not remember them, but they learned quickly that he had no memory of his past mistakes.

They never expected his lonely soul to be so innocent and sweet, especially after seeing face to face how far he had fallen once he lost his darling country. That last glimpse of him they got, shook them to their core and took years to recover from. Though honestly, it never fully left them. They were ready to move on and look for love in someone that wasn’t six feet under. But there stood their former lover, watching as Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo walked away from him with Friend following close behind. He was smiling in a manic way, looking the exact same way he did when he kissed them and ran off to face his demise but this time there was something different that they just couldn’t place their finger on. Maybe it was that this time, he had a will and a want to be alive.

Y/n shook their head, letting a shiver run down their spine as they turned and started to walk away, not wanting to look at him anymore and hoping that they would just be able to forget he had come back to life.

“My dearest sunflower... “ They stopped in their tracks as they heard the voice say softly, just loud enough for his words to reach them. They held their breath, hoping to hear him speak again or not at all, while a cold sweat went down their back. Everything stood quiet like the world was holding its breath along with Y/n.

“Don’t ignore me now, love. Please, turn and look at me. I want to see your face again, it’s been too long.”

“What the hell are you doing here- yOU WERE GONE WILBUR! YOU WERE GONE! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO STAY GONE!” They balled up their fists and squeezed their eyes tight to try and not let the tears slip through. Emotions that have been kept under wraps for years were finally coming forth to plague their mind. All from hearing his sugar-coated voice again, but they knew all that laid under the tooth-rotting exterior anymore was pure venom.

“Y/n… please don’t be upset. I’m back. I’m here, I can make things better than ever.” His voice was growing closer and was only unraveling them farther.

“NO! Wilbur stop- stop moving. Don’t come closer.” They pleaded, voice growing frail as tears were trying harder to run free. “Please…”

“Listen to me at least, darling.”

“No. I won’t.

“Y/n.” He sounded like he was warning them to comply. A big red waving flag telling them that even in death, he hasn’t changed.

“I’m leaving, and once I’m gone. So are you.” They started walking down the small mound of rubble they were watching him from as soon as they finished their sentence and picking up the pace as soon as their feet hit the glass that kept them from falling into the crater of L’manburg.

“Y/N!!” Wilbur called out to them desperately. “H-Hold on, just wait!” But they didn’t stop, they didn’t even look back and just kept their eyes on the swirling vines that tainted the space below them.

Harsh footsteps rang out on the glass, they sounded like boots as they clicked nicely. Suddenly they were pulled back when a hand grabbed onto their arm to stop them, Wilbur took small gasps as he caught his slightly extended breaths. Y/n looked back at him and finally looked him in the eyes again after nine years. His mouth hung open just a little as he steadied his breathing. Dirt was smudged on one cheek while a bit of blood was dried on the other and a long past dried bloody nose. He looked tired too, very apparent bags were under his eyes now though his glasses sat perfect and untouched on his nose. The red in his eyes was so easy to see and up close made it even more unsettling especially as he looked at them so fondly and softly like he never stopped loving them even in death.

“Don’t leave me, please.” He whispered, pulling them just a bit closer, looking like a puppy pleading for their owner not to go to work.

“Wilbur. It has been nine years. Nine years you’ve been gone, nine years tha-”

“Thirteen years!” He leaned forward just lightly as he emphasized the number. Y/n stopped and just looked at him, confused by him one upping them.

“What?”

“I have been in limbo for thirteen years Y/n. An empty train station. No exit. No one else there to help. I screamed and clawed at the walls. I was stuck there for so, so long. But I never forgot you. I missed you so much.” Wilbur finally let their arm go and let his arm fall back to his side, looking defeated. “I can’t tell you how many times I relived memories of you just to make me feel something again. Like… remember our sunset?” He looked down through the glass floor, smiling sweetly as he was obviously thinking back on the time. But Y/n simply looked at him in disbelief and almost disgust that he was thinking of them.

“Do you even realize how much it hurts? The things you told me before you went and got yourself killed? I held onto that for so many years, Wilbur.” He fixed his gaze back on them, his smile having been lost as soon as they started talking. “I was so ready to be healed from you and pursue love. Just… be happy. I haven’t forgotten you, but that’s because you hurt me so.. so bad.”

They let out a shuddering breath and took a few steps back from him to which he started to reach for them but stopped himself, lowering his hands to his sides and dropping his shoulders.

“I’m leaving. And I need you to let me leave and forget I was ever here.” They demanded once and for all before turning sharply and walking away from him.

“CAN YOU… can you stay. For just… for just a bit. Till sunset. Let me stay with you.” Y/n slowed to a stop when hearing his sad request. “Sunset can be the limit and you can bring me back here and I won’t follow you. Please just… Can you give me this?”

They sighed deeply, their addiction to his voice returning much faster than they hoped it would. They started to move again but not before calling back to him.

“Well come on then. I told myself I’d sort the books at the library today.” Y/n knew they didn’t need to wait for him because a few paces in and he had caught up to their side, hands in his pocket as he took smaller strides by their side.

“You finally built the library you always talked about?” Wilbur asked fondly, they could feel the constant glances he was throwing their way, and frankly, it took a lot of effort not to look back at him.

“Actually Foolish did it for me, I commissioned him. It looks really good too, almost everyone frequents it. I’ve even gotten Techno and Phil to drop by a good number of times.” They found their way onto the Prime Path as it made the walk to the library the easiest amongst all the rugged land.

“Yeah? I bet that Ranboo guy is there a lot, he looks like a bookworm.”

“He stops by quite a bit, yeah... Ghostbur was always there though.” They said as their voice grew softer. “Unless he was traveling around or visiting others to spread his blue, he was sitting there with Friend and reading.”

Wilbur didn’t try to make any comment after that and Y/n had to give him that. At least he still knows when it was best to shut up and bear the silence.

The rest of their walk remained rather quiet other than little comments here and there and Wilbur requested a quick walk by the museum once he saw it. Even though they could have cared less about what he wanted, Y/n agreed to walk by it since it wouldn’t set them off their path too much. They couldn’t help but admire him as he was now, they always thought Ghostbur was the actual soul AND mind of Wilbur with just amnesia. After being around him for so long, they got the urge to explain events to him whenever he would mention them, just to be reminded that he was there and remembered it all.

-

“Oh, so this must be the library ey?” Wilbur said excitedly as he stared at the two-story building and nodded in approval. “Gotta tell that Foolish guy he did a good job.”

Y/n laughed a little and went in with Wilbur close behind and quietly observing the interior.

“Go ahead and do whatever you want, I’ll be… kinda everywhere do just call if you need anything okay?” They glanced back to him to see his eyes already on them, smiling softly before he nodded.

“I can help too if you need it.”

“Uh- no. No, I’ll be fine, thank you.” They said quickly before rushing to start upstairs and get some distance between him, still not all that comfortable being so close to a man that was dead mere hours ago. They knelt down to a bookshelf and went on autopilot while they sorted through and put books in the right order.

It was so hard for their mind to fully process that he was revived. They overheard Tommy when he met up with Tubbo and Ranboo so they heard the whole story and followed behind secretly. They watched from afar when they found Wilbur but sadly didn’t hear most of what he had to say out of pure shock that he was standing right there without a sword through his chest. As much as they wanted to completely forget about his existence, They doubted they would be able to get rid of him now. All they could hope is that he would keep his distance and not be kind enough to make them fall in love with him all over again.

Hours passed by in minutes for them and they were finished with the top floor of books and went downstairs to find Wilbur standing there with obviously freshly baked bread, contemplating walking up the stairs.

“Y/n! Sorry um… here.” He offered the small loaf to them, he didn’t have his gloves on anymore and his hands were cleaned. “You’ve been working hard, but you need to take care of yourself.”

They took the bread from him carefully, taking a piece and trying to find it surprisingly good. He must have gotten it from the bakery.

“Thank you, Wilbur…. You eat too.” They took their leave into the rows of bookshelves to distance themself and eat near one of the back windows.

Things weren’t looking good for them at this rate.

-

“Alright Wilbur, got all your things? I’ve got to walk you back then go home.”

Wilbur hopped up from the chair he was sitting in, pulling his gloves out of his pockets and slipping them both on before adjusting his coat.

“Yep, all ready. Lead the way.”

And lead they did, though this time they took the more remote path down to his shrine. They took the path that Phil and his group used when they were first trying to revive Wilbur by using Ghostbur. It was calmer and it let Wilbur see other parts of the nearby area that he didn’t before.

“You know… Y/n. Have you ever been down here at night?” Wilbur asked as they were nearing the shrine.

“Huh? Oh, no I haven’t. Not since… you know.” They cast a quick glance to their side at him. “It doesn’t bring back the best memories so I try to avoid it.”

“Right, right, that makes sense.” He went quiet, but it was obvious he wanted to add on and most likely ask them something.

“Why?”

“Well, I saw them earlier and thought they looked rather nice. Did you see the floating lanterns? There were just a few, but they stood out to me among all the destroyed land.” He took a breath and looked over at them until they met his eyes. “I wanted to ask you if you could stay and look at them with me.”

Y/n just looked at him, expressionless and not saying a word.

“Look, the sun is literally already setting. Just for a few minutes, please? We can uh- we can stand on the other side of the shrine and look at them. Okay?” He looked up at the sunset before it was hidden by the land. “Just before you leave.”

“Just before I leave.” They softly echoed him and got a rushed thank you as he picked his pace up now.

They finally reached the stone steps that led to the shrine and Wilbur happily took the lead, walking to the backside of the shrine to lean up against the lapis wall. Y/n fell back against it and sighed, closing their eyes and being thankful for a moment to rest. They opened their eyes and looked up at the lanterns floating nearby, glowing brightly against the land now that the sun was set. They let themself slip away while watching the calming float of the lanterns.

Feeling eyes on them, they looked over to Wilbur. He didn’t even try to look away, just looking at them with a distant gaze and hands resting in his pockets. He looked numb as he silently watched despite the soft rosy look of his cheeks. There was something there they could only describe as numb and lovesick. As odd as it sounds, it fits.

“Wilbur-”

“Shh just let me… you look too lovely right now.”

They felt the heat rising to their face as much as they hated to feel it with him. It felt too right to hear it from him again and their mind pushed them to beg him to say those words again.

“I… I need to go home.” Y/n whispered to him, not even sure if that’s what they wanted anymore.

“I know, but darling I’m selfish.” He spoke softly to match their tone. They looked away to let out their held breath and contemplate what they were supposed to do. With a deep and grounding breath, they looked back at him. As much as they were ready to tell him they were leaving him here alone, him giving obvious glances to their lips just stopped them from being able to go forward with it.

With a soft bite of his lip, he tore his gaze away and sighed as looked up at the star-speckled sky, resting his head back. They were frozen now, admiring him this time. They swore they wouldn’t fall again but look at them now, ready to throw caution to the wind.

And they did.

Y/n closed the distance between them willingly for the first time that day and grabbed onto the arm of his jacket to get his attention, just above the L’mamburg flag patch that was covered with old dirt and blood. He looked down at them with wide eyes, very obviously surprised to see them so close.

“Are you… okay?”

“I-... I don’t know.” They admitted, meaning it completely. Wanting any of him now felt wrong but with someone as addicting and beautiful as him, what were they to do? “I want to leave… but I can’t.”

Wilbur snickered, bringing a gloved hand up to rub their cheek softly.

“Can’t or don’t want to?”

They opened their mouth to answer but were just met with blank thoughts, knowing he was right.

They just stood there, looking at each other and neither one making any advancements or turning away to end it.

“If I… Wilbur, if I kiss you right now, what will you do?”

“Well, Y/n I might just not be able to let you go. So if you want to leave and never see me again, then go. I won’t stop you. But sunshine, if you kiss me right now I won’t be able to keep myself away.” He opened his hand up to put it fully on their cheek, holding them as though this contact meant the world to him. They leaned into his hand just a little, not breaking eye contact.

They thought hard about if this was really a good idea. They still had the time to back out if they wanted to, it wasn’t too late for them to keep him out of their life forever and not try to get to know him all over again.

It was a good idea to leave. The best and smartest idea even, but even still they chose the latter.

“You’re an evil man, Wilbur Soot.” They muttered before grabbing onto the collar of his jacket, pulling his face down to theirs, and kissing him hard, making both of them stumble a bit by Wilbur being off balance. His hands found their way back to their cheeks immediately though, holding them so softly. He pulled them closer, not seeming to want to give this moment a chance to leave. Y/n pulled away finally to catch their breath, they couldn’t help but look at his eyes just to find that he was crying. He was smiling as well though. The sight made tears prick their own eyes though they blinked hard to try and hold them back. Before, seeing him in tears never failed to make them cry. They could never figure out why but it still held true.

"Why are you crying, you idiot? '' They mumbled just before he put his forehead to theirs and closed his eyes, taking in a deep yet shaky breath.

"You’re finally back in my arms… after so long of wishing for you.” He pulled their face to him to kiss them again and laugh softly. “It’s just crazy.”

He leaned back when he slid his hands off their cheeks, but not before running his hand through their hair and sighing as he looked at them. “Y/n… I need you to listen to me, okay?” He still spoke sweetly, but something seemed to lay underneath the surface of this and this time they could tell.

“Okay… but I don’t know if I can trust what you are going to say.”

“No no love! Please,” He reached down to grab and hold both of their hands close to his chest as he looked into their eyes. “You can trust me. You can. I just… I have things I need to do now that I’m back. And these things, I know some people aren’t going to agree with, but no matter what happens. As long as you stay on my side, I can promise you the world.”

Wilbur leaned in close to them, voice growing quiet now but the small smile he bore looked sinister. “I can promise you the world because I am going to capture the world in my hands. And as long as you’re mine, it will be yours as well.” He stroked their hands with his thumbs comfortingly as if to smooth over the words he just told them.

“Wilbur… I have friends. People I think of as family and if you end up hurting them I…” They trailed off, looking away from him and at the rubble of L’manburg and reflecting on what happened the last time he had a great goal in mind.

“That’s perfect! No, that is just perfect Y/n!” He let go of them, eyes wide along with his smile. “You have time. Think it over sunflower, I will give you time.”

He easily slipped past them and took a few strides away. Y/n turned to look at him, their mind in a hopeless scramble of pieces. The two sides of their mind battled on if they should tell him off or blindly trust him. He looked back at them, glancing away again before he walked up to them and gently lifted their chin to get a good look at him.

Memories flooded back to them with the familiar look he gave them. As much as they wished it could be a positive moment, all they saw was the man who grabbed them and kissed them as he said his adrenaline-filled goodbye. The only difference now was he wasn’t ready to die, but looked more than ready to cause any other kind of damage.

“You really are beautiful… I hope you choose me.” He held their chin and rubbed his thumb over their bottom lip before kissing them again, longer and sweeter this time before he spoke against their lips. “Find me when you’re ready. I’ll be waiting for you.”

___________________________________________

While you're here...

pss pss psss 👁👄👁 i made art for it too

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur my beloved #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur x y/n #self insert #revived wilbur #revivebur #dsmp angst #mcyt angst #dsmp fanfiction #dsmpblr #mctyblr #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #fanfic fluff #dsmp fluff #mcyt fluff #c!wilbur #self insert fic

[retrievablememories]

tokyo 2112 | baekhyun (m)

title: tokyo 2112 pairing: rich guy!baekhyun x reader genre: sci-fi/cyberpunk au, enemies to lovers, angst, non-explicit smut request: “hi, how are you? 💕 could i request some cyberpunk x baekhyun fic? i have in mind Tokyo, neon lights and explosive lovers. please feel free to choose the amount you want to write or you can. and thanks! ✨” word count: 12.8k warnings: body modifications/prosthetics, attempted robbery, physical violence (not between bh x reader, though reader does think about fighting him 💀), blood, non-graphic wounds, mentions of sex/one non-explicit sex scene, mentions of a car accident, frequent alcohol use/unhealthy reliance on alcohol, smoking, mentions of classism/poverty, mentions of experimentation, surgery is performed on the reader but not described, one mention of being weighed on a scale-like device a/n: this is my first real, lengthy attempt at enemies2lovers (or maybe just the genre “reader’s an a-hole who makes a lot of assumptions”) because i’m a clown and like to challenge myself for no reason...and this is why i don’t fool with this particular romance genre 💀 feedback is appreciated, this fic is just a whole lot of me experimentally punching above my weight and i’m a bit undecided on my feelings about it

also, i imagined the reader’s arm with a similar structure to the winter soldier’s, for reference

Tokyo, year 2112

You meet him in a Lower Tokyo club, the neon lights bleeding into each other and creating a deep, vivid landscape. It’s an unnaturally pretty scene—unnatural like everyone and everything else inside this club.

There’s a look of subdued wonder on his face, which makes you roll your eyes. He’s all made up and way too pretty to be in this dingy club with his gaudy piercings and expensive rings. Still, he enters the building in all his affluent glory, standing out against the crowd of gritty and cobbled-together androids and half-humans.

He’s a rich man’s son and an even richer man’s grandson. He’s known for being attractive, intelligent, and ridiculously rich—and that’s about all you know of the man himself. Him and his family have been excellent at keeping their personal lives air-tight, only ever letting the public know what they want everyone to know. But ultimately, they are only human. You know they cannot be as perfect as they try to maintain, and you can only imagine the unsavory things in their family history that go much deeper than anyone could ever think up.

“Do you think he wears all that to make up for the lack of enhancements?” Your friend Valor asks. He’s gesturing specifically to the man’s lip piercing and the chains hanging off of it, attached to the collar of his shirt. It’s a little strange, but it’s a signature look for him, and certainly not one of the weirder things in here.

“I’d like to rip it right out,” you reply in lieu of an actual answer to Valor’s question.

The man appears misplaced—like a researcher conducting a study of alien beings rather than a regular club goer—though he doesn’t seem to mind this. He just observes everything around him.

Valor chuckles and shakes his head at the display, throwing back another shot. “Weird.”

“Hm. Come on.” You steer Valor in the other direction, looking to get away from the man before he can get near your area of the club. Though this is your first time being in such close quarters with Byun Baekhyun despite his popularity across Tokyo, you’d like to cut things short if at all possible.

Another hour passes, and the drinks keep flowing. Your mind has gotten pleasantly hazy by now, almost enough to make you forget about the trespasser in your club scene. Almost.

You, Valor, and three other familiar faces sit at a small table near the back of the club. One of the guys is recounting some run-in he had the other week with the Droid Commission, though you can barely hear over the music that’s only getting louder, so you just nod and pretend to understand. However, he suddenly falters in his tale and his eyes dart up to a spot above your head. Turning back, you see that he is standing just over your shoulder. Without thinking, you recoil.

Baekhyun slides from behind you and comes to stand in front of you all now, a strangely convivial smile on his face. He acts like he’s merely visiting you all at brunch instead of standing in a club in the roughest part of the city.

“Exquisite work here,” he says, though his words drown in all the noise. None of you know what he’s saying, or who he’s saying it to. Noticing the acute confusion, Baekhyun lowers himself to your level, his scent passing across your nose as he does. Some robust and fancy cologne you don’t know the name of. Your eyebrows furrow at his proximity, and your blood rushes; maybe out of anger, or maybe just from being drunk. Then he touches your left shoulder, right where the metal of your arm connects to your living flesh.

Yeah, definitely anger.

“I said, this work is exquisite. Quite fascinating, really. Who made it?” Baekhyun has to get fairly close to your ear for you to hear him above the commotion, and you can feel the heat of his mouth next to your skin. His eyes travel the length of your arm, which is fully exposed in your tank top. His voice is irritatingly smooth, and the chains of his lip ring lightly brush your shoulder when he pulls back after he finishes speaking. Though your arm may be made of metal, it still has artificial sensory “nerves” running through it that connect it to the rest of your nervous system—and right now, they are screaming from that slight touch.

Maybe you really are just too damn drunk.

You look into Baekhyun’s dark eyes, which are imploring, coy, and playful all at once. The others at your table watch this interaction as if suspended in time, probably trying to process the sheer nerve of this dude.

“Fuck off,” you blurt out, and brush him off your shoulder with your flesh hand.

He remains unoffended; he even looks entertained by your blunt rejection.

The man who was previously telling his story speaks up. “You heard her. Fuck off, pretty boy.”

Baekhyun straightens up and nods, then reaches into his jacket. Two of the men leap to their feet, thinking he’s about to pull out a weapon—which would not be the first or last occurrence in this club—but he only brings out a business card, tucked between two of his fingers.

“Ever vigilant, aren’t you?” Baekhyun says, laying the card on the small tabletop. Then he directs his next sentence to you. “If you decide you feel like telling me more...get in touch.”

Then he disappears back into the mass of moving bodies just as quickly as he came. You flex the fingers on your metal hand, trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.

Both men at your table sit back down, although they’re still a bit disgruntled. Valor picks up the card to inspect it. “You gonna call that weirdo?”

“Please. You know me better than that by now.” You pluck the card from his hand and rip it up without a second thought. However, it takes a little longer to forget about the heated imprint of Baekhyun’s fingers on your shoulder, or his whispering voice fluttering against your eardrum.

Getting the arm was merely an act of survival, the way you saw it.

Money was low and jobs were scarce—ones that weren’t dangerous, straight-up unappealing, or low pay. There had been a scientific research trial for a new cybernetics program, and it paid much better than many other opportunities around—enough to live on for at least a year, give or take, especially with the cheaper cost of living in your area. You’d been terrified about giving up a part of your body, thinking your body might reject the foreign technology and kill you for the offense, but your desperation outweighed the fear.

Thankfully, it worked.

That was nearly two years ago, though, and the trial was long over. Even with you spending as frugally as you possibly could, the money was close to running out.

Odd jobs here and there help you out some, but they are few and far between and don’t pay nearly enough to make a living on.

You’re getting increasingly anxious about the lack of options and dwindling money, though you also spend half of your time getting drunk, hitting up the club, and simply trying not to acknowledge your crumbling life. If worst comes to worst, you can always think about finding another research trial and exchanging another body part. Maybe. These cybernetics programs often crop up more in Osaka, which would require you to leave the city, but maybe you could get another gig and scrape up enough money for travel...

For now, however, you are back at the club’s familiar bar and making small talk with the bartender, who’s an android without a real name or identity. Everyone just knows it as T-4000, though it appears to be fine with its little niche in the world. Sometimes it teases you about your arm and wonders when you will make a complete transformation into a “metalhead” like itself. Though you cringe, the company is better than nothing when the others aren’t around, so you allow the jokes.

Alone at the bar, you’re too preoccupied with staring into your drink to register the body sliding onto the bar stool next to yours until you hear The Voice flowing out again.

“One Blue Lagoon, please.”

Oh, fuck. You put your head in one hand and angle your body away from his in hopes that he doesn’t notice it’s you. But just as your fortune turns out, he happens to be facing your metal arm.

“Oh, it’s you again.” Baekhyun sounds pleased to see you, like this is some great unexpected coincidence, though you know that’s not likely true. You lift your drink to your mouth and pretend you don’t hear him, though that doesn’t deter him. “I never did hear back from you. How sad.”

“I have no desire to talk to you or anyone like you,” you say, still with your head turned.

“Anyone like me?” He chuckles.

“You don’t belong here, in case you didn't notice.”

“By whose definition?”

“Everyone’s,” you retort. T-4000 comes back with Baekhyun’s drink, and it gives you a look of bright amusement and curiosity with its digital-screen face as it rolls away to help another customer.

“I don’t concern myself with ‘everyone’s’ opinions,” Baekhyun replies, drinking from his glass. “Just the ones who matter.”

“Right, like your rich friends,” you scoff. “Why the hell are you even here?” You turn to him then, though looking at him feels like a mistake—like staring into a solar eclipse. He’s still wearing his chains, like always, and his eyes are smoked out with dark shades of eyeliner. The makeup makes him look eternally tired, but in some high-fashion model way.

“Because I don’t like being around my so-called ‘rich friends’ any more than you would.” Baekhyun smirks.

“So sorry.” You roll your eyes. “Maybe you should become a hermit, then.”

“You seem to be doing a good job of that right now. Where’s your friends from last time?” He looks around as if they’ll materialize.

“None of your business.”

Baekhyun leans on the bar counter, placing his arms on top of it, and his cologne hits you again. You try to hold your breath against the scent, though you can almost taste it in the back of your mouth. Shaking your head, you peer directly into his eyes now, which are as exceedingly curious as the last time. They’re still inky dark under this lighting, reminding you of black holes that absorb all light and life.

“Is it bad for me to want to know more about your arm?”

“Like I just said, it’s frankly none of your business.” You cast a forlorn glance at your drink, which has gotten dangerously low.

“Fair enough.” He sips again. “Now. What if I want to know about you?”

The back of your neck flares with heat, though you can’t fathom why. “You must be truly bored if that’s what you came here for. Unfortunately, you aren’t as interesting as you seem to think you are.”

“You injure me.” But you both know he’s not hurt at all by anything you can think of to say to him. “But this isn’t about me—it’s about you.”

“What about me? How you want to steal my arm and use it for scrap metal, maybe? Or to build yourself a body mod, even? You really stand out in here being the only one who’s not partway made of tin or some shit, and it makes people distrust you. You can figure that out, right?”

“You make a lot of assumptions.” Baekhyun swirls his drink around in his glass, the blue liquid swishing around the sides. “Let me make some, then. You seem like a mysterious, closed-off, and perpetually discontented person. And despite what you might think, it’s not my first time seeing you around. I guess I can’t interest you in entertaining my presence just for company’s sake?”

You pause, wondering where Baekhyun could have possibly spotted you. You don’t hang out in any of the places someone of his standing would usually be seen in. But then again, does he even frequent those areas of Upper Tokyo? He’s always spending his time mingling in Lower Tokyo’s notable haunts instead. “...Are you some kind of peeping tom or something equally pathetic?”

T-4000 perks up at that, even from its distance on the other side of the bar, and it scoots a little closer as if it’ll need to call the Droid Commission in another minute. Which, in actuality, is a terrible idea—calling on one of the city’s many vigilantes would have a more effective outcome, if need be, but sending them for Baekhyun of all people might land you all in prison.

“Tokyo is big,” Baekhyun deadpans, like it’s something even a baby would know. “You can see anyone anywhere.” Then his voice melts back into its normal suave tone. “I’ve noticed you in passing, once or twice. Your arm is something special, but it’s hard to forget a person like you.”

Despite yourself, you don’t totally hate the comment. That alone makes you want to leave the club and not look back for at least the next month or so, knowing he’s probably said this to dozens of other people before. You stay in your seat, though, trying to see what easy line this man is going to throw out next.

“I wonder why I’ve never noticed you, then.”

“You seem to be too consumed with your own problems half the time, even though I don’t know what those are. The stress is written all over your face, though.”

Can never miss a chance to be insufferable, it seems.

“Okay Mr. Psychoanalyst.” You knock back the tiny bit of drink left in your glass and push it away from you. You shake your head at the android when it gestures for a refill.

“Not a psychoanalyst, you’re just achingly easy to decipher.” His tone is casual, like this isn’t meant to be an insult, though you take offense anyway.

“You’re not very good at whatever this is,” you say.

“What do you think this is? Flirting? Maybe you wouldn’t be wrong there.” He laughs.

“Yeah, well. Get some more practice and then maybe you can convince some other poor sap to get to know you better and sign over the rights to their cybernetics, but I won’t be falling for it.”

“I guess that means I’ll just have to try harder, then.” And then he finishes his drink, too. “Not the stealing your arm bit, but the getting to know you part.” He pauses for another moment, and then says, “It’s easy to become enamored with this place.” He waves his hand around at the club’s surroundings. “Expect to see me around more often. I think I’ve already taken a liking to you.”

Baekhyun tips his empty glass to you and gets up from his stool. His cologne swirls around you as he leaves, not overpowering, but enough to make its mark on your olfactory memories. You don’t look back to see where he walks off to, too busy trying to ignore the small headache building behind your eyes and your elevated heart rate.

He’s already taken a liking to you. Why would a ridiculous comment like that even get to you?

God. You really need to get laid.

So, you do just that.

Not with Baekhyun, but with someone from the club whose name you don’t even remember before it’s even over. It was painfully uneventful sex, and it did nothing to banish the man from your mind, which makes you feel even more irritated.

Walking back to your tiny apartment afterwards feels like a certified Walk of Shame even though it’s late at night and no one really cares to notice you. You spit on the sidewalk as if that could properly convey your disgust. You think of Osaka again—and what the fuck are you going to do to even get the money to get there?—and of the business card that you’d ripped up without remorse.

You shake your head, sending that thought back to the depths of your mind. Nevermind. That doesn’t matter. What could he possibly have for you, and why would you want it? Tucking your hands tighter in your pockets, you keep your head down and remain inconspicuous until you get back to the not-so-welcome sight of your own place.

You, Valor, and a few others sit around a makeshift bonfire at Tokyo’s Rainbow Bridge—or what remains of it, anyway, with weeds and tall grass sprouting up in the space that was once its parking lot. For the past hour, this impromptu hangout been nothing but smoking cigarettes and drinking cheap alcohol and shooting the breeze. The nights are always much colder than the days, the chill biting into your skin and seeping into your clothes, but you try to ignore it and huddle closer to the fire. Maybe there is something, anything else you could be doing other than this, but you are just a bit too weak—and a little too lonely—to say no to the companionship. Even if it means listening to the uninteresting conversations of men who you barely know outside of the club or without a bottle of whiskey in their hands.

Your hangout session remains sleepy and boring for a while until someone makes a suggestion. One of them keeps going on about some steady, reliable work he’s supposedly found from a trusted friend, though he refuses to elaborate on what kind of work it is when asked. You make a sound of disgust and tune him out. Useless suggestions are as bad as none at all.

“Maybe we oughta rob that Baekhyun dude.”

You look up from the flames, fixing your eyes on the one who said it—a man called Lockjaw—and someone else chuckles in disbelief.

“You serious?” Valor asks.

Lockjaw sits forward in his ratty lawn chair, and with the way the light hits his face, it’s easier to see how his bottom jaw and teeth are completely metal. It makes you wince internally every time you see him, though you always feel kinda bad afterwards. That must’ve hurt exponentially worse than your own procedure. “Why the fuck not? He struts around Lower Tokyo like he has it all...and the bastard does. We sit and grovel for scraps, yet there’s a walking goldmine right in front of us.”

The idea of taking Baekhyun’s riches had never quite appealed to you or fully manifested in your mind. You didn’t want anything belonging to him, mostly because of your own disdain towards the man. However, the suggestion appears in sharp relief now, so obvious that it’s hard to believe no one else proposed it until now. You don’t immediately respond to this concept being thrown around, but something uneasy settles in your chest.

Valor sits back with a mildly disinterested look. “And you think someone like him doesn’t have major security hanging around waiting to incinerate someone with a ray gun if they tried it?”

“Do you ever see anyone hanging around him?”

“Doesn’t mean they’re not there. Somewhere.”

“Then we’ll be strapped up,” Lockjaw says, throwing his hands in the air. “And any of his little ‘security team’ who tries it will be blown into the stratosphere. That’s how we take care of that.” You shake your head only slightly, a movement not noticeable enough to be picked up by the others. You rub your tongue against the inside of your cheek, picturing all the ways this plan could go belly-up. To your irritation, Valor decides to drag you into the fold despite your efforts to stay out of the conversation.

“What do ya think, Y/N? Baekhyun’s been on your tail lately, maybe you could help lure him in.” That stirs up several murmurs and targeted stares in your direction.

“Yeah?” Lockjaw leans forward even more, his ass nearly slipping off the edge of the chair. “Think you can get in good with him?”

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. “Uh...it’s not like I’m buddy-buddy with him—”

“You don’t need to be, just tell him to bring his ass here and we’ll do the rest.”

Your mouth tightens. With all eyes trained on you, some expressions less friendly than others, it feels impossible to refuse. “I guess.”

“It’ll provide the money you’ve been worrying over for the past year.” Valor offers, and you shoot him a side-eye. Not like you needed him to broadcast your business to the world.

“That’s how life around here works,” another man chimes in, putting his cigarette out on the dirt and getting off his makeshift stoop of an upturned bucket. He stretches his arms and legs, and though you can’t see them under his long pants, you can hear the soft whirring and clicking of his metal legs. “Eat or be eaten. I’ve made my choice.”

Lockjaw gives a wolfish smile. Your apprehension rises, though you say nothing. “Eat, we will.”

You try to act nonchalant the next time you see Baekhyun at the club. You only notice him as you’re leaving, having already waited most of the night to see if he’d show up this time. You slow to a stop as you spot him in the alleyway behind the club, speaking to another club-goer—you’ve seen the person around before. You can only imagine what they were talking about before you’d interrupted their little scene, and the person scurries off, perhaps somewhat reluctantly, once it’s clear they’ve lost Baekhyun’s attention. Maybe that was the poor sap he’d finally found who’d be misguided enough to give up their cybernetics.

Baekhyun approaches you with a smile, his chains catching in the light of the flashy neon sign above. The kohl is dark and smoky around his eyes, in perfect sameness with every other time you’ve seen him.

“Hello, one who’s name I still don’t know—”

“You should come see me,” you interrupt. You want this to be as quick as possible, not wanting to dwell on any fake niceties.

Baekhyun lifts an eyebrow. “See you? At...your place, or—”

“At the ruins of Rainbow Bridge. Thursday night, around 9. Unless you’re too busy doing rich people stuff.”

“Rainbow Bridge…” He draws the words slowly across his tongue. Probably thinking of what a ruin the bridge is now—and has been for the past few decades—and wondering why you’re asking him to meet there of all places.

“I have a friend who lives around there—no fucking place to stay, you know, just holes up wherever he can. But he can...let you see the inner workings of my arm. Pick him up, take him back to your place; I’m sure you have a lab.” And because you know what he’s really looking for, you throw in, “He’s studied the technology, knows it inside-out. He could help you build...whatever it is you want.”

Baekhyun’s eyes, which you normally perceive as two lightless voids, sparkle at that last part. You can practically see the light increase in them. “Oh really?”

You roll your own eyes. “Yes, really. I’m not going to let you walk off with my damn arm, but you can...take notes on the mechanisms and shit. It’s up to you. I just got tired of you fuckin’ asking, so don’t think this is going to turn into some weekly meetup or whatever.”

He nods, slowly at first, and then more assuredly. “Alright, then. I’ll come.”

“So...yeah.” A sudden wave of anxiety crashes over you now that the trap has been laid. You feel as if you make one wrong move now, it’ll blow everything. He’ll find out and hate you for it. But why should you care about him hating you? “Then...see ya Thursday. Bye.” You decide to make your exit, walking briskly past him in the alley.

“Leaving so soon?” Baekhyun asks, turning back to watch your figure retreat. You wave one hand behind you in a dismissive gesture.

“I’ve been here all fuckin’ night, Byun. I’m going home now—to get some sleep, if I’m lucky.”

He chuckles, the sound fading behind you as you walk away. “Sweet dreams.”

Your steps falter just slightly when those words leave his lips, and several emotions begin warring in your chest. You ignore them all and continue on your walk back to your place, though you almost wish you could turn back to the club and ask for another drink or three. Something to get your mind off that ridiculously simple phrase that’ll be spinning around in your mind all night.

The night of the plan, you begin having major second thoughts.

It’s not as if you didn’t already feel shitty about it, but your mind keeps racing with how ridiculous of an idea this really is. It’s far too late to talk anyone out of it, as they’ve already stocked up on contraband weapons and laid their gameplan, but you feel less and less “okay” about being a part of it.

Most of all, you feel increasingly guilty about using Baekhyun’s trust in you for this; he never seemed to assume you had any other motives behind your invitation. Even if it’s ridiculously, oddly naive of him to trust you—someone he knows nothing about—you don’t feel great about exploiting that for your own gains.

It takes him less time to show up than you’d hoped. He’s right there at the agreed time, annoyingly punctual, his sleek black luxury car pulling up in the dirt and patchy grass. It looks like it was cut out of a magazine and placed there—almost comically out of place. Just like him.

Baekhyun gets out of the car and walks out onto the grass to meet you, uncaring of the mud and dirt he’s stepping in. He smirks, his hands in his pockets and his chains dangling. “Would now be a good time to get your name, or are we in too deep at this point?”

There’s no one else but him. Definitely too trusting.

You nervously chew your lip as you mull that question over. If everything goes like the others intend it to, there won’t be a point in telling him your name. But if he’s still alive by the end of the night, you could be exposing yourself. Still...a name won’t matter either way if he can give a perfect description of you to the Droid Commission.

Suddenly, you decide not to give it any more thought. “It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N, Y/N...” He says your name like he’s tasting a charming new food. “I like it. It suits you.”

Baekhyun’s smile is too sincere, and it doesn’t make you feel any better. “Come on.” You turn your back to him as you lead him through the tall grass and toward a broken section of the bridge’s main road. It leans against the main structure of the bridge and sticks halfway out of the muddy ditch that was once Tokyo Bay, its jagged edge reaching toward the night sky.

It’s darker under here, with the broken bridge blocking out the moon and stars and lights from buildings nearby. Your stomach rolls.

“So, who is this friend of yours?”

You turn to Baekhyun then, and you don’t know if he can read the anxiety on your face. Maybe he can. He’d proudly bragged about his own abilities for figuring people out.

It happens all at once, somehow slow and fast at the same time.

One of the men—the one with two metal legs—slinks out from behind the broken bridge and sneaks up behind Baekhyun, a stun spear in his hands. Its two large metal prongs are lit up with electricity. Those metal prongs are aimed directly at Baekhyun’s back, ready to make contact, but that never happens.

“Look out!” you scream, and shove Baekhyun out of the way. He stumbles off to the side, falling against the concrete bridge, and you wildly grasp the long spear with both hands, blocking the man from reaching Baekhyun.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Metal Legs shouts. He drives the spear’s metal bar forward, knocking it into your upper chest and collarbone with a force that makes your teeth chatter, and the pain and shock take your breath away for a few moments.

You’re not a fighter. You usually try to stay out of any ridiculous brawls when they do happen, whether at your apartment building or the club, but you do your best to hold the dude off. So even though you stumble back, you keep your hold as tight around the spear as you can and shove it back, putting your weight behind the movement and cracking it against the man’s chin. He howls with pain and anger and his hands momentarily loosen on the weapon. You take that opportunity to snatch it completely from him.

Nearby, Baekhyun is busy fending off Lockjaw with a long knife, both of them fully engaged in a fierce clash of blades. You feel a burst of surprise. He was armed this entire time? Had he realized something was suspicious after all? Most of all, how does he know how to fight?

You don’t have much more time to think about that, though. Metal Legs is recovering from the hit, his hand reaching for his side like he’s about to pull out his own knife or gun. You leap forward and shove the prongs of the stun spear into his ribs. He quickly collapses to the dirt, motionless after a handful of frightening convulsions. You feel cold fear at the idea that you might’ve just killed him, but you can’t dwell on that when you see the others bursting out of the tall grass a few yards away from you and Baekhyun. The backup, in case something went wrong—which it most definitely has.

Lockjaw has Baekhyun up against the concrete of the bridge, his knife near Baekhyun’s neck and Baekhyun trying to block the blade. The sharp metal inches increasingly closer to its target. With your legs shaking, you run up behind Lockjaw and dig the electrified prongs into his side, sending more volts through his body than you can imagine.

Lockjaw’s weapon drops, and Baekhyun stumbles away. The man takes a little longer to be knocked unconscious than Metal Legs, but you are relieved when he’s out a few seconds later.

You look at Baekhyun, who appears dazed and winded; you belatedly realize he might’ve received some of the shock too, with both men’s arms locked together when you initially used the spear. “Get out of here! The rest are coming—go!” A shot from a ray gun zips through the air between you two and burns the concrete of the bridge.

Baekhyun looks at you wordlessly. Then he grabs your wrist as tight as a vise. You glance at him questioningly, and your confusion mounts when he drags you along with him as he takes off towards his car. The red smearing across your hand and wrist tells you he must be bleeding from somewhere, and shock blooms in your chest for a wild moment.

The car door opens without him even touching the handle or speaking a command, and he jostles you into the backseat, trying to avoid the spear’s prongs; you’re still holding it tight, as you expected you’d need it to face the others—however futile that would’ve been. You’re so frazzled once you get in the car that it takes you a moment to realize Baekhyun is in the backseat with you. “What are you doing?!”

“Get on the highway,” Baekhyun speaks, ignoring your frantic question, and the engine roars in your ears as the car peels out of the grassy lot. The vehicle narrowly escapes another round of angry shots fired by the others, and the grass sizzles where the shots land.

A self-driving car. Of course he’d have one of those. You stare at the steering wheel as it turns on its own, maneuvering you both away from the scene of the crime and back onto the paved roads.

“Your arm…” You look at the sleeve of Baekhyun’s jacket. It’s torn now, and you can see the skin of his forearm underneath, which displays a long cut. Lucky for him, it’s not deep enough to need stitches. He has similar, smaller ones on his hands.

Baekhyun examines the wound and makes a sound of disgust. “It’ll be fine,” he says decisively. “The bastard wasn’t as good with a knife as he wishes he was.”

You nod silently, though the movement feels mechanical. As the reality of the situation seeps in, a whirlpool of dread forms in your stomach.

“Fuck, I-I’m fucked.”

Baekhyun gives a humorless laugh. “You’re fucked?”

“I’ll...need to lay low for a while.” Then you glance at him. “Unless you’re driving me to the Commission. Then, well…at least they can’t get to me while I’m in prison.” Your laugh is equally humorless.

“You’re going into hiding?” Baekhyun asks, and the corner of his mouth lifts. You don’t expect this reaction. Not after him almost being jacked and led into the situation by none other than you.

His smirk exasperates you. You almost want to roll your eyes at him not realizing why you’d need to hide. Or maybe he’s just playing coy about it; but you give him a break for now. “I ruined the plan and helped you out, so yeah, my own place is not gonna be safe anymore. ‘Friends’ are fleeting out here. Especially if you fuck with someone else’s money.” Valor crosses your mind, the only one you could really call a friend out of all the others—and only because you knew more secrets of his than they did. Your chest tightens with a strange guilt. You should’ve just said no from the beginning.

The car is quiet for a few long moments. Then Baekhyun shatters the silence with, “Come home with me, then. You can stay there for a little while.”

You bark out a laugh. “You can’t be for real.”

He sits back against the leather seat. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t. It’s a waste of time otherwise.”

“After I just—could’ve gotten you killed?”

“I said it before—you’re like an open book. Your emotions are practically written on your face. It’s pretty damn obvious to me you were never truly up for this plan. Unfortunately, you aren’t the badass you think you are, but at least your efforts saved me.”

“But I still—”

“You certainly don’t have to take the offer if you don’t want it.”

You become quiet at that. Even if you don’t think you deserve this level of mercy, you don’t want to shun this offer of safety and be left to contend with the streets alone. Your voice is tense and quiet when you respond. “I’ll take it.”

Baekhyun’s home is a penthouse in the heart of Upper Tokyo, which doesn’t surprise you. The contrast in his neighborhood’s appearance with what you’re used to seeing in Lower Tokyo is stark and painful—spotlessly clean streets with sweepers continually traveling up and down them, bright holographic billboards, people walking around with personal androids accompanying them. You begin to feel resentful again, and you wish you could swallow those feelings after he’s been gracious enough to rescue you, but you can’t help it.

You two must make quite a sight once you pull into the apartment building’s parking garage—you holding a stun spear, wearing a slightly shabby outfit of a T-shirt, jeans, and jacket, and Baekhyun walking out with disheveled, torn clothes and bloody hands. Someone gets out of the parking garage elevator once the doors open, and they give a startled look when they see you two.

“Good to see you, Jongin,” Baekhyun greets the other man. His tone is friendly, but his expression dares the other man to ask any questions—which you both know he won’t.

“Good evening, Baekhyun.” The man gives a slight nod in your direction as he walks past you two, though there’s no hiding the distaste he thinks he’s disguising. His eyes linger on your metal hand, and you feel exposed; you try to convince yourself he’s just looking at the spear, which would also make sense.

You try to shake the feeling off as you and Baekhyun step into the elevator cabin, but confusion rushes over you to replace it. The floor of the elevator is more like a scale, sensing the weight of your bodies and sinking slightly further into the floor once you step onto it.

“What’s that all about?” you ask.

“Oh, yeah. That. This isn’t like your typical elevator, it’s a teleportation channel,” Baekhyun says this nonchalantly as he reaches for the touchscreen panel on the wall.

“Um, what? I don’t want to be teleported anywhere.” You jump right back out of the cabin before the doors can close, and Baekhyun gives you a weary look as he holds them open with one crimson hand.

“It’s safe, you don’t have to worry about anything. All it does is take the atoms in your body and replicate them elsewhere; the floor measures your mass. I’ve done it hundreds of times.”

“You don’t say.” Sarcasm drips from your voice. “Yeah, no thanks. I’m not interested in turning into ground meat on the other side of that thing.”

“There are no stairs in this building, just teleportation channels. If you want to climb the side of the building to get to my place, be my guest.” Baekhyun starts pressing on the panel as if he’ll leave you behind, and panic spikes in your chest. You decide to get back on with him, much to your displeasure.

You close your eyes tight just as the inside of the cabin starts glowing with light, and you can only hope your last lived experience won’t be riding a teleporter with Baekhyun in the same night you tried to mug him.

Surprisingly, the transportation doesn't feel like anything. One minute you’re there on the parking garage ground floor, and the next minute you hear the whoosh of the doors opening again. It’s like you never moved an inch, but you obviously have when the doors reveal the lavish interior of Baekhyun’s home.

Grateful to be at your destination, you step out of the teleporter as quickly as possible. “How did we end up right inside your place?”

“Clever, right? It uses fingerprint recognition so no one else can get access but me, but you’d know that if you hadn’t slammed your eyes shut.”

For all your talk of Baekhyun being out of place in Lower Tokyo, you suddenly feel like the fish out of water inside his penthouse. There’s metal and glass and holographic materials everywhere, which is the same stuff you’d find in Lower Tokyo, but here it’s all much more sleek, shiny, and well-maintained. His living room alone looks bigger than your entire apartment.

“Come on, don’t just stand there.” He gestures for you to follow him further down the hall, and you hesitantly do.

“Um...I don’t really want to carry this all night,” you say, referring to the stun spear still in your hands.

Baekhyun turns back to you, blocking the path to the rest of the hallway. “Do you even know how to turn it off?” It’s still charged with energy. You look at it up and down, but it isn’t immediately obvious to you. You don’t want to admit that, though, and keep awkwardly looking for some sort of Off switch until Baekhyun can’t stand the silence anymore. “Look, just give it to me.”

Your mouth twists at that. It seems nonsensical considering he’s just given you a safe haven, but you’re wary he’ll try to turn the weapon on you. Maybe he was waiting to get you alone and dispose of you himself. He appears to understand your thought process, because he scoffs loudly and holds his hand out for the spear.

“If I really wanted you dead, I could’ve done it in the car—or better yet, let your friends take care of you. Just hand it over.”

“Mm, I think not. I don’t think you’d want to get blood on your pretty leather seats.” Still, you give him the spear, if a bit reluctantly. You don’t know what he does with it, but he takes it into another room and tells you to wait in the hall. When he returns, it’s gone.

Baekhyun leads you to a clean and unoccupied guest room. It’s large, with floor-to-ceiling windows that give an expansive view of the city below. It’s also nicely decorated, much like one of Upper Tokyo’s many upscale hotels, but it seems like it hasn’t seen a warm body in months. There’s a certain lack of warmth to it. “Don’t get many visitors?”

“Now is not the best time to make jokes about me filling my perpetual loneliness with frequent trips to your club, if that’s what you’re attempting to lead up to.” He steps through another door, which you find out leads to the bathroom. “Everything you need should already be here—except clothes. I’ll get those in a moment.”

“Right,” you mumble, your eyes carefully tracing over everything in the bathroom. You know your skeptical behavior is probably pissing him off at this point, but distrust has long become an inherent feature of yours. You’ll keep this act up if you know it’ll get under his skin.

The hot water in this shower doesn’t run out after five minutes like the one back home. You can’t shake the old habit, though, and you wash yourself as quickly as you can, body tensed with adrenaline as you expectantly wait for the warm flow to stop after the five minutes are up. When that doesn’t happen, your muscles relax a little. Though it feels good, you don’t know if you’ll get used to this any time soon.

The clothes he lays out for you on the bed are plain and black, but still better quality than what you’re used to seeing and wearing. Soft on your skin. Smell good. You wonder where he’s went off to—maybe to wash up and patch up his wounds, if he has any sense. You also wonder if you should try exploring his place, but you feel like that’ll be risky; he has too much advanced technology around here that would probably find a way to kick you out of the penthouse window at the first sign of nefarious activity.

...Which is how you end up merely sitting on the bed and waiting to see what will happen next. But not before checking the entire room for any signs of surveillance tech or something else foreboding. This is also when you make the joyous discovery that your phone is missing, and you reason it must’ve fallen out of your pocket in the earlier clash; you know you had it when you first met up with Baekhyun. That pisses you off, but there’s nothing you can do about it now. Though you feel disconcertingly cut off from the outside world without it, who would you even contact anymore? One of the others, who’d probably try to track you down and enact a cold, hard revenge for you blowing up the plan? Lockjaw’s face flashes into your mind, along with the other scalding looks you received the night of the planning, and you shudder slightly.

When Baekhyun comes back to your room—and you’re almost surprised that he does—he looks significantly smaller in presence without his all-black clothes, glittering face chains, and heavy makeup.

Indeed, the man standing in front of you with damp hair, baggy pajamas, and bandaged hands doesn’t seem like the same suave person from the club at all.

“So now what?” you say, raising an eyebrow at him.

He shrugs. “Well, if you’re going to be living here, you need a tour.”

Living with Baekhyun isn’t quite what you expected it to be. He’s home more often than you’d think, for one. You would’ve thought he’d always be in business meetings or off somewhere finding more luxury goods to buy or just doing whatever. You can’t really get mad at him for being in his own home, but you try to keep space between the two of you. With your own designated spaces, it’s not hard to do this, which you are at least marginally glad about.

Trying to deal with Baekhyun while completely sober isn’t your idea of a walk in the park. Despite yourself, you wish you could go back to the club even once; Baekhyun certainly won’t let you drink up all his liquor, nor will he tell you where he’s hidden it. For your own good, he claims. Sure.

To your surprise and slight relief, he doesn’t ply you for any more details about your arm, though you’ve definitely caught him running his eyes across it more than once—studying it like words on a page. Whatever’s spinning around in that mind of his, you can only guess. His lingering interest only makes you think he’s scheming for a way to take the arm off you when you’re sleeping or equally vulnerable, though, so you remain guarded around him.

“One day, you’ll have to understand that I’m not the evil villain you think I am,” he tells you. He regards your attempts to avoid him with a certain bored amusement, like how one might think of a particularly entertaining pet cat.

You let the steam of the food you’re cooking billow up across your face, making your eyes water from the slightly-too-warm heat before answering. Leave it to him to bother you during one of the times when you can get some undisturbed, Baekhyun-free peace. “Maybe you should stop dressing up as one whenever you go out, then.”

He chuckles. “It’s like you’ve made it your personal mission to throw verbal stabs at me whenever possible.”

You shrug. “I have to do something to pass the time here.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “You could do that just by having a normal conversation with me.”

You cross your arms, looking at him from where he stands at the kitchen island. He’s in his dressed-down form now, sans eyeliner and jewelry.

His kitchen is not like any other you’ve encountered, fully equipped with the capabilities to make every single one of his meals by itself—and order more ingredients whenever necessary. It’s undoubtedly convenient. But you often still like to make food of your own, just so you don’t have to feel so...dependent on him for every little thing. “About what?”

“About who you are. What you like. What you dream about—I don’t know, something.”

“What I dream about.” You make a noise of disbelief. “How can you waste time on dreams when you live the life I do? I just focus on trying to survive. That’s it.”

Baekhyun opens his mouth automatically like he’ll say something, but he pauses as if he’s just absorbed the full weight of your words. Suddenly, there’s a certain sadness pooling in his eyes and pulling at the corners of his mouth, and you hate it—intensely. You don’t want his pity or sympathy. And yet, he’s already given it to you by letting you live in his home.

“Before you say something pathetic, just don’t,” you blurt out, wanting to stop him before he can start. “You want to talk? My favorite color is green, and my favorite food—alcohol. I have an arm made of fucking titanium, the club was my main hangout spot, and I hate entitled people. Talk about that.”

Baekhyun’s sympathy evaporates into an unimpressed expression, lost just as quickly as a whisper on the wind. “Closing the door again, I see. Alright. Have it your way.” He leaves the room then, giving his back to you and shutting you out similar to how you just did to him.

This should be what you wanted. But it only makes you feel oddly unsatisfied.

“Here.” Baekhyun slides something across the table towards you after dinner one day—another dinner where you sit on opposite ends of the table and where you try to ignore his existence. You instantly recognize the small, glistening package as a cellphone, though it’s a model much more advanced than you could’ve afforded.

You look up at him as he stands in front of you, one of his hands shoved into the pocket of his black pants. “...What are you doing?”

“Giving you something to communicate with so you don’t feel like some princess stuck in a glass castle.” You roll your eyes at that. “I’m not sure who you’d talk to since all your friends do hate you, but the thought counts. And everyone needs a phone.”

You sit forward to look at the phone in its packaging, tracing your metal fingers against the surface. The sensation circling around in your stomach is an odd one. “Please don’t tell me that you hosting me in your penthouse was just an easy way to get a sugar baby.”

Baekhyun looks slightly flustered at that accusation, and you’re gleefully, childishly pleased about taking him off guard. His surprise is quickly replaced with a shit-eating grin, though. “It’s nothing like that; I could’ve already had that kind of arrangement 100 times over.” His tone suggests that he has, which sends a chill crawling up your spine. But maybe not 100 times over. “I did it to help you out. But if thinking of it that way gets you off, be my guest.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Byun,” you say, taking the phone out gingerly. It’s a lightweight thing, looking like it might dissolve if you look at it too hard. Its screen is clear raised glass—which you assume will project out the hologram technology this phone is inevitably equipped with—and has silver backing. It’s a piece of work. Though it appears fragile, you know it’s sturdier than that—or it wouldn’t be such a popular model as it is now. “It’s...nice, though.”

Baekhyun waves his hand noncommittally. “I wouldn’t settle for anything less—even if it’s for someone as eternally pissed-off as you.” You bite your lip against the rebuttal that wants to come rolling out, instead preoccupying yourself with figuring out the controls on this thing. Which takes an embarrassingly long moment. Baekhyun watches you for the duration of it, biting his own lip against the urge to laugh at the frustrated furrow between your brows and the crinkling of your nose. Really, the phone looks like a thin sheet of metal with a slice of glass over it; how are you supposed to operate this? Eventually, he says, “There’s a button on the bottom that activates it...you have to press that.”

“Right, clearly.” You try to rid yourself of your embarrassment as you turn the thing on, but even as Baekhyun leaves the room you can hear his chains clinking together as he laughs silently at your confusion.

As if your life could not get any more chaotic, your metal arm begins malfunctioning. 

The metal is not as flexible as it was just a few days before, and it gives you a hard time whenever you try to do simple maneuvers. Your arm is overtaken by a sensation that feels like nerve damage with how the entire limb and shoulder tingle and burn from wires that no longer want to do as they’re told. You’re not entirely sure what’s wrong with it—a good oiling could usually fix any stiffness when necessary, but this nervy feeling is new.

For a while, you try to hide it from Baekhyun, which feels kind of ridiculous even to you. You’re only hurting yourself more, but you are a little too prideful to give him the pleasure of inspecting your arm like he’d always wanted to from the start. You don’t want to be his science experiment.

However, it comes to a point when you must ask for help when your arm stops working entirely.

You wake up to this terrible realization. After another morning of having gotten only a little sleep the night before, something immediately feels wrong. Your arm is dead weight beside you. When you try to sit up, it doesn’t respond to your movements. You can only feel the painful tug on the flesh part of your shoulder where the weight of the metal pulls at it, and you groan in pain and annoyance.

You support your arm with your other hand to prevent the tugging, which quickly gets exhausting and annoying as you try to go through the morning motions. You can’t keep this up while washing, so by the time you get out of the shower, your shoulder is killing you from where the arm dangles.

When you get to the common room, Baekhyun isn’t there. He isn’t anywhere else in his penthouse, either. You don’t even know how long he’s been gone. When you bring yourself to finally call his number, you bitterly remember that you still don’t have it saved in your phone. You want to scream in irritation. You can’t leave to go look for him—yeah, right—or get help from anyone else, either, because of the fingerprint recognition on his apartment entrance. Now that you think about it, you are like a princess in a glass castle here. That reawakens another bout of anger in you. Safe haven or cage?

Baekhyun appears an hour or two later—you’re not totally certain, having refused to expend the strength to move from your current spot to check the time—wearing his usual getup. You don’t know if you should be relieved, but an emotion similar to that sweeps through you despite your lingering apprehension and dislike.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. His eyebrows crease when he sees you splayed across his couch, your metal arm propped up on the couch back.

Don’t be combative, you think to yourself. But it’s like an impulse; you can’t stop yourself. “Why do you immediately assume something’s wrong?”

“You’ve never been so casual,” he gestures to your posture, “around me or in my place before, so I’m trying to figure out if your brain has been infected by cyber bugs or something. Because if we need to quarantine, then—”

“Well, you’re not totally wrong for once.” You struggle to sit up, your movements stiff, and your arm slides off the couch back and slumps limply to your side. Baekhyun's eyebrows shoot towards his hairline at that, and he looks at you questioningly, stepping closer to you.

“What happened to your arm?”

“Don’t even fucking know…it’s been feeling weird for a week.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

You look up at him, cynicism coloring your expression. “I’m sure you can take a wild guess.”

He gives the familiar sigh-and-eye-roll combo, like he’s done probably a hundred times since he’s met you. “Yeah, I can.” He waves his hand. “No matter. I’m calling Yosuke.”

“Who’s Yosuke?” You turn to watch Baekhyun retreat—probably to his bedroom or office. He turns back to you momentarily.

“Someone who can fix your arm.”

— 

Yosuke turns out to be a man around the same age as Baekhyun—a big contrast to the older, wizened cyberneticist you’d pictured in your mind. He and Baekhyun act overly familiar with each other, apparently being long-time friends since their younger years.

There is no difference in how he treats you and Baekhyun, which is another thing you didn’t quite expect. He is clearly wealthy like Baekhyun, coming in with a nice suit and expensive jewelry and a suitcase full of more tools than you’ve even seen before, but he doesn’t have the haughty rich man aura. That makes you feel a little more comfortable, and you are glad that Baekhyun let you have some privacy with this and left the lab for the actual procedure. Even if it meant he didn’t get his wish of poring over your arm’s wiring like some kind of cybernetics kinkster.

To your relief, the fix is simple enough. The implanted electrodes in your shoulder that help send signals between your brain’s neurons and the artificial nerves have failed, but those are relatively simple to replace.

“Shitty tech, I guess,” you mumble, casting a displeased look at your arm. You aren’t sure why, but you feel embarrassed about it failing on you. Maybe you just thought it’d be reliable forever. “I got it as part of an experimental research program, so it was probably never going to be the most dependable thing anyway…”

“Hm.” Yosuke smiles. “Maybe not, but it’s still an extraordinary piece of work—especially in this early form. Some of these mechanisms are new even to me. Was that the 2110 Tokyo trial, by chance?”

You nod, though you feel a tiny bit less relaxed with knowing that even Yosuke doesn’t recognize all the intricacies of your limb. Hopefully you’ll still walk out in one piece. “Yeah, the very one.”

“Excellent work,” he reiterates. “It was an early research trial, but still yielded some of the most functional and human-like large-scale cybernetics of the last few years. You could’ve done a lot worse. Maybe you already know that, though.”

“Maybe,” you repeat quietly, but you are mostly speaking to yourself now.

—

After the electrode replacement is done in Baekhyun’s home lab, you can finally feel your arm like normal again. Yosuke does a few sensory feedback and dexterity tests to make sure your arm can function as it should, and he promises to come back the next day for another round just to be sure.

You almost don’t want Yosuke to go when he finally does pack up to leave. It feels nice to be around someone who doesn’t inspire some wretched, nonsensical anger in you.

Baekhyun slips back into the lab after Yosuke leaves, and you glance up from your arm at his arrival. He looks at your bandaged shoulder and watches appreciatively as you flex your metal fingers. “All good now?”

“It’s fine,” you mumble. “Thanks.” Saying that word to him is not easy, but you relent, figuring you should at least give him that much. “You should be thanking the gods you don’t have to go through this kinda shit.”

“Really.” It’s not a question, the way he says it. It’s filled with sarcasm. Baekhyun reaches down and rolls up his left pant leg, his chains hanging as he does, and you recoil, confused. Why the fuck is he showing you his bare leg?

“It’s cybernetic,” he says, barely concealed pride in his voice. “You can’t even tell, the work is so good.” Something like jealousy and anger stirs in your chest. Even if you had wanted to tuck those emotions back in, they’ve escaped from the cage now and are intent on running rampant.

“So. Byun Baekhyun is part-metalhead, after all?” You slide off the surgical chair you were sitting in for Yosuke’s procedure, coming to stand a couple feet in front of Baekhyun. You look down at his leg—which, for all intents and purposes, looks like a completely flesh-and-blood limb. “You joker. Quit fuckin’ around.”

“It’s not a lie.” He knows you won’t believe him, so he taps a spot behind his ankle twice. A long, thin panel that stretches from just above his ankle to his upper thigh opens on his leg, exposing the wiring and metal within. You can’t school your expression in time, and your mouth drops. “Incredible, right? Custom-made. So, yes…I do have an idea what it’s like.”

“Custom-made, huh.” You bite your lip so hard you think it might bleed. “Unbelievable. You’re the kind of person who does these things because you want to, because you can, not because your survival hinges on it. You must truly think you’re special.” The words come hurtling past your lips like venom.

“I didn’t choose this on a whim,” Baekhyun argues, straightening up to face you and letting his pant leg back down. The look on his face says his patience has finally run out, presumably tired of you throwing insult after insult at him since you’ve been in his home. “You don’t know anything about me other than what you’ve seen and heard on screens and from others. I’ve tried to get familiar with you. You reject it at every turn.”

“I don’t want to ‘get familiar’ with someone who gets custom cybernetics that cost hundreds of thousands just because they fuckin’ felt like it, while the rest of us have to do it just to get enough money to live for maybe a year on.” You’re gritting your teeth so hard that your jaw feels like it might crack.

Baekhyun steps closer to you, diminishing the space between you further. His eyes burn with animosity. “I was in a car accident, Y/N. I was just a teenager. No one even knows this but the people closest to me, and I don’t want anyone else to know it. I lost my leg and nearly my life with it. Before you start preaching to me about choices versus survival, realize that you aren’t the only fucking person in the world who’s ever had to do what was needed to survive.”

Your breath catches. You feel like the wind has been knocked out of you. Suddenly, all the fight drains from your system, and you are left feeling deflated and cold. His blazing eyes feel like two bullets trained on you, and your gaze falters.

Baekhyun doesn’t wait to see if you’ll have another response lined up for him; he turns heel and stalks out of the room.

As promised, Yosuke returns the next day for your additional tests. Your conversation with him isn’t as enjoyable as it could be. You are still reeling from Baekhyun’s revelation and unsure how to approach him. Neither of you spoke to each other for the rest of that night, instead choosing to actively avoid each other. You know you can’t keep this game up forever, though.

“Baekhyun’s in a sour mood today,” Yosuke remarks. “Rare for him. Any idea why?”

You shake your head, worrying your lower lip with your teeth. “Mmm...no.”

The slight smile on Yosuke’s face tells you he doesn’t believe you. “Well...I’m sure you two will figure it out sooner or later. He seems to have an affinity for you.”

“What?”

“He was pretty concerned when he contacted me about your arm. He’s mentioned you before then, too. He seems fascinated by you.”

You purse your lips together. You remember his days of annoying flirting in the club, which feel so far away now, and how he’d come to you with a bunch of flowery words and told you he’d taken a liking to you. Perhaps he was really telling the truth about that. You wonder if he possibly mentioned the attempted mugging to Yosuke, and you cough nervously.

“Well, he’s…” you wave your flesh hand, “...a character.”

Yosuke chuckles. “You two seem kind of fitting, I don’t know why. Similar love for recklessness, maybe—from how he describes you, anyway. Like peas in a pod.”

Fitting? Peas in a damn pod? The next words come thoughtlessly rushing out of you in an effort to change his mind and slap away whatever outlandish idea he has of you and the other man. “I don’t want Baekhyun.”

Yosuke raises an eyebrow, though he keeps his gaze on your arm as he watches the movements of your metallic fingers for any irregularities. “I never said you did, Y/N.”

In your haste, it occurs to you that maybe Yosuke really was just referring to your similarities—which you’ll continue to vehemently deny—rather than suggesting any deeper connection. Though that’s what it sounded like to you. Fuck. You don’t know anymore.

Is this what they’d call a Freudian slip, then? How wonderful. You rub your temples with your free hand and shake your head. “Then let’s just forget the last few minutes of this conversation.”

Yosuke smiles. “Whatever you’d like to do.”

—

Yosuke leaves soon after he’s finished testing your arm, but he reassures you that you can see each other again if you feel like having the company—just have Baekhyun arrange things.

Speaking of Baekhyun. You should probably say something to him. You’re not enthusiastic about puttering around his home feeling even more awkward than you did when you first arrived there. So, you walk to his office and knock on the door, turning your ear to it to see if he’ll give a response. You don’t have to wait to hear one, though, because the door panel slides back on its own.

You’ve never been in his office before, though you knew where it was—it was one of the places he decided not to show you on his little house tour—but it’s just as obnoxiously streamlined and full of tech as every other part of his home. Baekhyun sits behind his desk, elbows propped on its surface and fingers crossed together.

“Y/N.” His voice holds none of the playfulness, casualness, or even cool sarcasm you’ve heard from him before.

You step a few feet forward into his office. You feel like you’re standing underneath a spotlight, lit up for the entirety of the world to see. In reality, it’s just you and him here—Byun Baekhyun, one of the richest men in Japan.

He stays silent, presumably waiting for you to speak first. That is what you came here for, so you do, even if it makes you feel like you’re going to peel out of your skin.

“I was a dick. I’m sorry.”

Baekhyun blinks. “An apology? From you? The world must be ending.”

“I’m trying to be serious here, Byun.” You sigh. “I was...wrong to assume what I did about you. I guess...I don’t really know anything about you...but. I felt like I had you all figured out already. So, I’m sorry.”

The tension in Baekhyun’s shoulders releases, if only a little. His expression shifts into something not quite as impenetrable as it was just a few moments ago, but not completely open, either. “Apology accepted, then.”

“Thanks.” You shove your hands into your pockets. “Well, I thought...if I’m not to make any more assumptions about you, I should probably get to know more about you?” 

Baekhyun looks interested now, and he releases his hands from their formerly tense position. He leans forward slightly. “Then I should do the same with you.”

Your hackles raise, despite you trying to keep yourself more open-minded. “I...don’t want to. You know enough already.”

Exasperated, Baekhyun spreads his hands out in front of him. “Here we go again. What are you so afraid of? And why even ask me about myself if you don’t want to share anything about you?”

“You can think of it as gathering intel—not making friends. I’m not asking you about your life story so we can have picnics together and talk about our wildest dreams.”

Baekhyun scoffs in disbelief. “When are you ever going to be honest with yourself? Emotional constipation isn’t a good look for you.”

“Honest with myself about what?”

“You are attracted to me. You are interested in me beyond supposedly gathering intel. And for some reason I can’t conceive, it enrages you.” The words come off his lips with the trace of a smirk, and though they make your skin prickle with heat, his smirk makes you want to jump across the desk and land one good punch on him.

You snort. “You’re a piece of work. Attracted to you? Everyone doesn’t throw themselves at the first person with a whiff of money or notoriety.”

Baekhyun gets up from his desk to step closer to you, much like he did the other day. He’s close enough for you to count the moles on his face, barely noticeable except for when he’s at this proximity. His cologne wraps its scented arms around you and pulls you in. You didn’t notice it as acutely yesterday, too embroiled in the argument and trying to process what he revealed to you, but now it hits you full on. How is this not considered some kind of olfactory warfare?

“Then tell me you don’t want me.” He whispers it to you in that same stupid, silky voice he’d always used in the club. That voice, combined with his scent, transports you straight back to that environment—the pungent taste of alcohol, the blinding neon lights, the ear-splitting music. And the one man who you just can’t figure out.

You open your mouth only slightly, afraid to breathe in more of his fragrance and lose yourself to it like a fool. “Fuck you.”

“That’s not an answer.” Baekhyun’s voice remains in the same low whisper, and he grins like he already knows the truth. “But I can do that, if you’d like.”

It doesn’t take much effort for him to close the rest of the space between you. When he kisses you, you don’t slap him, stomp on his foot, or knee him in the balls like you might’ve thought you would. Instead, you kiss him back—gradually, tentatively, but your lips fall into a rhythm with each other’s.

His lip piercing is unyielding on your skin; the edges of it press into your lip. The kiss is not rough or even frantic. You think this all might’ve been easier if it was—easier to allow yourself to keep hating him so intensely and channel that energy into your actions. However, all your previous thoughts of knocking his head off or pulling his lip ring off fall away; you just allow yourself to exist solely in this moment and absorb the feeling of his lips on yours.

Maybe now you could allow yourself to admit—internally, at least—that yes...you did want this. You wanted it from the first ridiculous time you met him in the club, and when he put his insolent hand on your shoulder. Whispered into your ear like he knew exactly what effect it was going to have.

Baekhyun’s bedroom—the one other place he hadn’t shown you besides his office—is neatly arranged and smells entirely like him. Other than those base things, you don’t care what the rest of the room is like. When you both somehow make it there, Baekhyun backs you up onto the bed, his lips still attached to yours.

The weight of his body is solid on yours. His tongue nudging against your lips and asking for entrance makes your body flush with heat. Before you can get fully invested, you pull away. He looks at you questioningly.

“Take this off,” you mutter, pushing his face chains away from you. He laughs lowly, pulling away from you to take his piercing out and put the chains away.

Pulling your clothes off comes naturally; it doesn’t feel clumsy and stilted like it did the last time you slept with someone. Baekhyun’s hands flit over every inch of newly exposed skin he can access.

The way Baekhyun touches your metal arm is reverent, worshipful, and you hadn’t realized how much you needed this—this kind of unabashed admiration—until it happened. No one has ever touched your metal arm in a way that wasn’t clinical or otherwise similarly detached. His fingers glide across it like it’s still made of skin and blood and bone, and he kisses the length of it, up to your neck and all the way back down to your metallic fingers again.

Water beads at the corners of your eyes. You try to ignore it. You don’t even acknowledge the few tears that do slip out, sliding towards your ears from your supine position.

Baekhyun lifts himself to be level with your face again. You turn away from him, too afraid to see whatever emotion will be lying in his eyes—not wanting to reveal the full magnitude of your vulnerability to him—but you don’t say a word when he presses his lips against the tear tracks on your skin.

Funnily, ironically, every motion comes instinctively. Him rocking against you, his heavy, dark breaths echoing in your ears, his long and low moans—your lips searching for his, your teeth creating blooming bruises on his skin. Though you have pushed him away and dismissed his proffered company at every opportunity, this intimacy feels like a grand coming-together—something that was bound to happen at the end of every road.

—

The sheets are twisted, the sweat is cooling on your skin, and you are both tired but satisfied. Content in a way that neither of you have truly been in a long time. You rest your head on Baekhyun’s chest, closing your eyes and listening to him breathe underneath you, the metal of your arm still warm from the heat of his skin. 

“I could give you an upgrade.”

Your mouth twitches. You think you might have imagined the words, so you stay silent for a while longer until Baekhyun nudges your arm, checking if you’ve already fallen asleep.

“Upgrade?”

“Your arm. I could...have a new arm built. One like my leg.”

You sit up to look at him, the sheets falling from your body. “Don’t say pretty things you think I want to hear just because you’re still in the post-orgasm haze.”

Baekhyun blows air out of his nose, too tired to properly argue or even scoff at you. “Like I said before, I don’t waste time saying things I don’t mean.” His voice quiets. “We both know you can’t get your limb back, but...I could...give you something to help, at least. It’s...easier to deal with the cybernetics when they actually look like they belong on your body.” You know he speaks from experience there, by the way his gaze falters and drops to his lap.

“To feel more like a human again, huh.” Some part of you—multiple parts of you, maybe—had still been grieving over the arm you’d given up almost two years ago. Maybe it was a silly thing to be hurt over compared to the many other problems in your world, but it was difficult to stop feeling like you’d sold away a portion of yourself for nothing. Nothing but fleeting money.

Baekhyun’s offer stirs something in you. You turn your body away from him, feeling the tingle in your nose and eyes again that could only signal one thing. “Stop doing this. Being so...I don’t know, forgiving. Not after all I’ve done and said to you.”

Baekhyun sits up then, resting his hands on your arms. “I want to do this for you. Stop acting like you don’t deserve anything good in the world.”

You turn back to face him after a long moment, though the tears still linger in your eyes. “I don’t want to be the only one who benefits.” You shake your head slowly. “If you really agree to give me a new arm...you have more than enough resources to help change the nightmare Lower Tokyo has become. Help them. Help us. I don’t want to be some one-off experiment or pet project you discard once you’ve gotten your fill—some broken bitch from Lower Tokyo you think you can fix and turn into one of your family’s many success stories.”

Baekhyun is breathless from your admission; this is the most transparent you’ve been with him since you’ve met. Though part of him wants to shrivel back from your words, he clings to your long-awaited honesty, even if it is only shared with him to rebuke him and his family’s selfishly opulent ways. He thinks of why you pushed so hard against him trying to make a personal domain of Lower Tokyo, leaving the comforts of his own place to absorb the shadows of yours, and a better understanding of your rejection begins to dawn in his mind. Tentatively, he brings one of his hands from your arm to your cheek, thinking you might still wince away from him, but you don’t move.

“You’re right.” His voice is tight with the knowledge of it. “I can help, Y/N. You, and everyone else. I mean—I will. If there is one thing you can trust me on…let it be this.”

You stare into his dark brown eyes, trying to hunt for any signs of dishonesty, though you find none. There is only the heat of his hand on your face, and his open, yielding expression. “I will hold you to that, Byun Baekhyun.”

#baekhyun fic #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun imagines #baekhyun scenarios #baekhyun smut #baekhyun angst #exo fic #exo imagines #exo scenarios #exo imagine #exo scenario #superm fic #superm scenarios #superm imagine #superm imagines #superm scenario #superm angst #superm smut #exo angst #exo smut #ambw scenarios #ambw fic #ambw imagines #ambw kpop #ambw angst #ambw smut

[ranhaitanisgf]

;; 𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎

otherwise read as: venti is purposely avoiding you for a reason

--

❧ masterlist

"Venti, hey-"

"Sorry, (Y/N), I have a show to go to! Let's talk some other time!" You inwardly groaned as he made another excuse.

You had been trying to talk with Venti for the last month, but he had been consistently ignoring you and making excuses. You weren't sure if you had done anything wrong, but it was making you nervous.

What if he hated you?

You were fine if he didn't like you that way, but you wouldn't be able to stand it if you had done something to make him hate you. You had asked Aether, Kaeya, Lisa, and many more, to try and figure out what was wrong with him, but they just changed the subject. They definitely knew something, and just weren't saying anything.

You walked to the General Goods store, making small talk with Blanche before buying a bag of apples. The most you would get to interact with him was when he finished a performance, and you would leave a bag of apples for him.

You watched him sing, and as always, he sounded like an angel, although you would suppose that him being an Archon could somehow be an advantage.

Before you left the bag of apples, you slipped a note in. You weren't going to rest until you found out what was going on with Venti, and why he was ignoring you.

Venti, meet me at Windrise tonight. -(Y/N)

--

Commissions had taken longer today, so you weren't able to meet Venti at Windrise until quite late into the night, around 11:30. You hoped that you hadn't come too late, because you might have been looking forward to this meetup more than you should.

But, as you reached under the big tree, you realized that maybe you had come a little too late. Venti was nowhere to be seen in his usual spot, and you frowned.

I knew I shouldn't have spent all that time helping Pallad... (this is a pallad hate account‼️)

Nonetheless, you sat under the tree anyway, pulling your legs up to your chest as you looked at the stars peeking out from beyond the leaves of the tree. It had been a long day, and you were utterly exhausted. Two commissions in Dragonspine, and two ruin hunters to defeat was quite a day in your opinion.

"(Y/N)! I was wondering when you would show up!" You jolted from the sudden voice, looking around to see where it was coming from it.

"Up here!" You looked up into the plentiful branches to see Venti, casually waving you over with a couple of empty bottles of dandelion wine.

You heaved yourself up, climbing the tree and making your way up to Venti, who had a small smile on his face.

Slightly panting, you sat down next to him, quirking a brow at him.

(for reference you guys are sitting like this but facing each other and on a tree branch cause I didn't know how to explain it, but ignore how this idiot is literally about to cut himself off the branch okay that's the only picture I could find)

"So...first of all..." You paused, taking a glance behind him.

"Are you drunk?"

"No! Why would you think that?" You merely pointed to the empty bottles of wine beside him.

"You really think I could get drunk off of that!? I feel offended (N/N)!" You flushed at the sudden use of a nickname, coughing awkwardly to try and hide it.

"Anyways! To get straight to the point, I know you've been avoiding me. Did I do something wrong, or something to offend you? If I did, I'm sorry, just please tell me what's going on." Venti's face faded from happy to what looked like a troubled expression. He sighed, looking at you for a moment before turning his head to the side, gazing out into the landscape.

"Venti...is something wrong?" You looked at the side of his face, trying to glean something from his expression, but all you could see was sadness and confusion.

"Are you in love with someone?" The sudden question made your heart beat a little quicker, and your whole body felt nervous, but you decided to answer anyway. You just hoped that he wouldn't ask more than that.

"Um, yeah..."

Please don't ask more.

Being in love with Venti is a confusing thing, especially since you knew he was the Anemo Archon. It was hard to know that someday he might fly away and never return; that he might go dormant for another millennium. What would your purpose in this world be then?

"What are they like?" He asked. Your eyes widened and you started to panic.

How am I supposed to describe Venti, to Venti, without him noticing that it's him?!

"Well, uh...they live in Mondstadt...and they annoy me a lot, and I always buy apples for them-"

Wait, Venti is the only person I buy apples for-

"SUNSETTIAS! I buy sunsettias for them, not apples...my bad, haha..." You played with the hem of your shirt, looking at Venti to see if he had any reaction.

"I see..." A slightly awkward silence fell, and you weren't sure what to say in response.

"Uh, are you in love with anyone, I guess?" Venti gently laughed, but you could hear pain laced in it. Your eyebrows furrowed; what was wrong with him?

"Yes." He suddenly turned to you, and you were able to see the tears welling up in his eyes.

"Venti..." You murmured. Your arms wrapped around him, pulling his face into your shoulder. You could tell he was surprised at first, but he eventually warmed up to it, his arms going around your waist and holding you. You could feel his silent tears against your shirt, and you gently rested your cheek against the top of his head.

"You didn't answer my question before." You whispered, playing with the hair on the back of his head. He could probably hear your heartbeat skyrocketing, but you were just going to play it cool, and hopefully, he would forget about it.

"What question?" He asked in a soft voice. You sighed, laughing a little bit at how he tried to change the subject when you asked him the first time.

"What's going on? Did something happen?" You asked. He didn't say anything for a good five minutes, but you didn't want to rush him. You weren't sure what it was that could be troubling him so much; he is an Archon after all, so was it something he couldn't fix even with that sort of power?

He mumbled something, but because you were so caught up in your thoughts, you didn't quite catch what he said.

"Huh? Sorry, I didn't hear you." Venti pulled himself up and took his hat off, laying it in between the two of you.

"(Y/N), you're the one I'm in love with." His eyes were cast downward towards the hat as he spoke, but as soon as you heard them, you froze.

Me?

You weren't even sure what to think; you had never thought it was possible for him to love you back. You had come to this universe looking for a new home, not to fall in love. You never would have imagined a future with somebody else, but here you were, thinking about him every night as you gazed at the stars.

"Venti...I-"

"The person you spoke of before, they're nice, right? They'll treat you like they should?" He cut you off, looking up at you for reassurance.

"Well, I would hope so...considering-"

"I need to go have a talk with them and make sure that they treat you well and don't break your heart, okay?" You started to laugh, wondering how long he was going to go on rambling about it.

"Hey, why are you laughing? I'm being serious here." You apologized in between laughs, before eventually calming yourself down.

"Okay okay, I'm sorry, but if you gotta have a talk with them that badly, then you might wanna go find a mirror and try talking to the reflection." Venti looked at you with a disheartened look, and you stared at him, waiting for him to figure it out.

It took probably a whole minute.

"(Y/N), you...?" You sighed, an exasperated smile on your face.

"Took you long enough you idiot." You leaned your forehead onto his, feeling a little confident.

He just looked at you with wide teal eyes, looking like he couldn't believe it.

"Hey Venti," You murmured, "-I'm sure you've figured out by now that I'm not from this world. Wanna know what I used to be?" A smile played on your lips as you looked at his questioning look.

"A half-god." When the whisper slipped from your lips, he looked at you in complete and utter shock, then he smiled one of the purest smiles you had seen. You looked to the side, trying to keep yourself from squealing.

It's too bright!!

His hand gently grabbed a hold of your chin and turned your head towards his before placing a gentle kiss upon your lips. All of a sudden, it felt like there was a wind current around you, and it felt like it was throwing your heart up in the air. The warmth that spread throughout your body felt like it could last forever.

So, this is what it's like to be in love.

He pulled away, and the wind around the two of you slowed down before coming to a stop. You rested your head on his chest, letting out a sigh of relief. This felt amazing; you never would have thought that love could feel like this.

Relaxing against him though also reminded you that you were exhausted from today. You might be immortal, but being a half-god meant you still needed sleep.

You could feel yourself starting to nod off, but tried to stay awake to be with Venti. His hand rested on the top of your head, his other arm securely around your lower back to keep you steady against him.

"Sleep, my cecilia, I will be here when you wake up." You frowned against him, trying to fight off the sleep, but you knew it was no use.

"Do you promise?" Venti gently laughed, his chin resting on the crown of your head.

"I promise."

~~

#venti #venti x reader #x reader #readerinsert #reader #fanfic #oneshot #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #gi #;; hana writes genshin

[cinnaminsvga]

Sweeter than Strawberries | Jungkook

→ summary: at euphoria bakery, seasonal changes also bring seasonal menu items. when you find out that your favorite strawberry shortcake milkshake was phased out after the end of summer, it takes only one puppy eyed look from you for jeon jungkook to make it for you anyway—just don’t tell his boss about it, alright?

→ genre: bakery!au, s2l, fluff → warnings: none unless you count the fact that i’m writing shy!jungkook again :^D, we love mutual pining in this house ex dee → words: 4.5K → a/n: this was commissioned by @ihatemathanal​!! i was super stoked to write this bc it’s really cute and sometimes it’s nice to just write happy fluffy things every once in a while (aka zee is turning into a fluff writer jfc) it got a lil longer than it was supposed to, but that’s bc i got carried away lol anyway i hope you guys enjoy!! (ps: this also works for the bgw bingo so... tyg for s2l fics!! let’s get it!!)

For the most part, the beginning of autumn is usually your favorite time of the year. When the tree leaves begin to yellow and the air gains a significantly colder bite, this signifies the end of pit stains and sweaty thighs and the start of sweater paws and chapped lips. Above all, you are most excited, of course, for an excuse to gorge yourself on steaming mugs of hot chocolate, paired with delicious mountains of warm gooey brownies.

For the most part, these are all things that often get you excited for the coming chill. What you do not think to remember, however, is that while these seasonal changes bring more good than bad, there still remains a little snag: a small oversight, if you will. As businesses all over the world begin the annual transition to the colder months, so does your favorite bakery across the street from your university. After all, summer ingredients grow scarcer as the year nears its end, so it’s understandable for bakeries to switch up their menu to keep up with both the supply and demand.

What does any of this have to do with anything? Well, long story short—

Your favorite strawberry shortcake milkshake is about to get phased out. No, scratch that—it’s already been phased out, right from under your very nose, no less!

You shouldn’t have been surprised, really. You have always known it was a specialty drink; your best friend had even been the one to introduce it to you just near the end of your summer classes:

“This is Euphoria Bakery,” Namjoon had said with a smile, waving cheerily at the two boys manning the till. You heard him chuckle in amusement when your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, staring longingly at the sweet treats and baked goods lining the display case.

Namjoon had stolen your attention away, however, when he pointed to the chalkboard menu on the wall. As it turned out, the bakery also doubled as a cafe, serving the usual coffees and teas while also making the occasional specialty drink for different seasons or holidays. The chalkboard was decorated beautifully, the menu items written out in neat cursive with tiny little doodles littering its margins. On one of the boards, there was a new drink item being advertised in bold pink letters—a great summer treat!—or so it said.

“Jungkook-ssi, can you get me and Y/N a strawberry shortcake milkshake? Extra whipped cream for me, please!” Namjoon called out to one of the boys, startling the younger of the two. The boy, Jungkook, must have been busy fiddling with the cash register that he hadn’t noticed your arrival.

“N-Namjoon-hyung? Sorry, I was just busy counting the money—” Jungkook stopped short in his speech, his tongue getting caught in his mouth when his eyes landed directly on you. He had made a strangled sound, like he had swallowed his spit too quickly and was struggling to regain his composure. “H-Hello?”

You realized belatedly that he must have been greeting you, as you had been distracted by his fidgetiness. His nervousness was cute, if a little bit contagious; you couldn’t help feeling anxious too, like your heart was missing every other beat, even though you had no reason to be. “Hello! My name is Y/N. It’s my first time coming here, but Namjoon says your new summer menu item is really good? I wanted to try it out for myself.”

Jungkook nodded, still staring wide-eyed at you as if in a trance. You expected him to start... well. You weren’t an expert on how bakeries or cafes are run, but you were pretty sure he should’ve started doing something after you had spoken, perhaps ring up your order on the register, or start working on your drinks. Instead, he’s still frozen in place, like he’d somehow short-circuited within the last two minutes.

It seemed you weren’t the only one who noticed his odd behavior because the man working with him suddenly pushed Jungkook to the side, a brief smirk flashing across his face before it was quickly replaced by a more subdued, professional smile.

“Sorry about him. He’s usually my best baker, but sometimes he can get a little... distracted when he’s confronted with sweet things,” the man said nonchalantly, but it seemed that his innocent-sounding comment had embarrassed Jungkook greatly.

“Jimin-hyung!” Jungkook whined, stomping his foot not unlike a bunny. If you squinted a little bit, you could definitely see the resemblance.

Namjoon, who had been quietly watching everything unfold, chose that moment to pipe up. “Oh, I see. I didn’t know you had a type, but after thinking about it—” Namjoon shot a surreptitious glance at you, before turning back to Jungkook with a teasing grin, “—I can definitely see why.”

At the time, you had no idea what was going on, mostly confused as to why Jungkook had suddenly become so red-faced while Namjoon and Jimin giggled like a couple of high school girls. It seemed like you were somehow the main reason for his embarrassment, so you were quick to poke Namjoon in the stomach, effectively silencing him.

“Hey! Stop teasing the poor boy. He’s just being nice,” you said, pointing a soft smile back at Jungkook. “Sorry about him. I’m sure you’re an excellent baker, judging from how wonderful and cute all these cakes on the display look.” Somehow, your praise had only made Jungkook’s cheeks brighten even further. He cleared his throat as if to say something in response, before changing his mind and scuttling away to the back room instead.

“I’m going to start making your milkshake! D-don’t mind me!” He called out from behind the door, causing Jimin to finally break down into raucous giggles, nearly doubling over from his own mirth.

“Aish, that kid. He never learns, huh…” Jimin sighed, but the smile on his face is kind—the sort of fond look an older brother might have for his kid brother. He turned back to you and Namjoon with that lingering softness as he rang the two of you up, before chatting idly with you as you waited for Jungkook to finish making your drinks.

“I’ve never seen you around, Y/N-ssi. Jungkook—sorry, I meant I definitely would’ve noticed you if I did. You go to the same university as Namjoon-ssi, right?” Jimin asked, flipping a pen between his fingers with incredible dexterity. You were slightly distracted by that, faintly jealous of how his short fingers could somehow manage such a feat.

“I—yeah, I do. I’m assuming you’re also a student?”

“Yep. I actually met Namjoon-ssi when we took that one music theory class together. I was handing out flyers for this bakery after class and he happened to be one of the first people to actually come,” he said, winking at Namjoon. You watched with much interest when your friend turned a faint shade of pink, his hand coming up behind his neck—a signature tick of his whenever he was feeling shy or nervous.

“I-It was nothing… I mean, your seasonal drinks are always so good! I remember your old snowman-shaped donuts with the raspberry filling? I still dream of it sometimes,” Namjoon sighed, eyes going glassy for a moment.

Jimin laughed, his eyes crinkling into cute little crescents. “Oh, stop it! I remember how you’d come here even after we stopped serving that donut and you’d beg us to make them again.”

“And yet you never did, even though I know you have the ingredients to make them,” Namjoon pouted, but there’s endearment dancing in his expression.

You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “I never pegged Namjoon as a sweet-tooth guy, so this is honestly all a very big surprise to me. I should be pumped for this milkshake then, huh? Hopefully, you aren’t just hyping it up and I’ll end up disappointed.”

Before either Namjoon or Jimin could retort, Jungkook had reappeared from the back room with two large cups in hand, almost tripping over his untied apron string but managing to get to the counter in one piece.

“Here you go. I hope you won’t be disappointed when you try it,” he said, gaze averted downwards when he hands you your cup. Your fingers grazed each other for a second, nearly causing both of you to drop the drink like it was on fire.

“S-sorry,” you laughed it off, feeling your ears get a little red from your blunder. You pointedly ignored Namjoon’s arched brow, no doubt enjoying your sudden shyness. Without waiting for him to get his own cup, you casually tear off the straw wrapper and take your first sip of the drink.

“So?” Jungkook asked after a while, watching with bated breath as you take a good gulp of the milkshake. “How is it? Is it worth the hype?” You don’t speak for a moment, further aggravating the two bakers as you carefully chewed on the bits of strawberry in the drink.

“This—” you said, speaking slowly for increased dramatic effect. You could hear Namjoon groan beside you, used to your need for unnecessary anticipation. Even as you paused for a moment longer, you could already feel the smile creeping up your face, unable to completely hide your giddiness. “—is fantastic. Show-stopping. Best thing since sliced bread! I could live on this shit alone.”

Jungkook released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, chuckling in relief as you began to completely devour the treat in mere minutes. “I’m… really glad you like it,” he said with a wide, toothy grin. You were so immersed in your drink that you missed the way he sighed softly, hand gently cradling his chest where his heart would be.

Namjoon had taken his own sip as well, sighing dreamily as the creamy and sweet flavor overtook his palate. “Truly the best drink in existence. If I was a Twitch streamer or some shit, I’d promote this regularly for free.”

His comment made Jimin giggle softly, but his gaze is trained on something else entirely. “I’m flattered, but maybe don’t promote Y/N’s cup, over here. We don’t typically have strawberries and hearts doodled all over our cups,” he said, smirking slyly.

Lo and behold, your cup did have small doodles littering its sides whereas Namjoon’s was just a plain white paper cup. “Oh,” you said, blushing furiously when you finally noticed. Your flush was nothing compared to the one on Jungkook’s cheeks, however. The two of you refused to make eye contact after that, both of you trying (and failing) to silence the amused snickers of your respective friends.

Despite that slightly embarrassing (and heartwarming) experience, that had marked the start of your love for the tiny bakery and their special strawberry shortcake milkshake. You returned to Euphoria Bakery as often as you could throughout the summer, even going to visit it without Namjoon most of the time. You would even occasionally go out of your way to visit the bakery, even after your summer classes had ended and there was really no reason for you to be around the area.

It also didn’t hurt that the boy behind the counter was especially cute, with his big doe eyes and melodic laughter that always got your heart beating erratically in your chest. It hadn’t taken long for you to admit to yourself that you had a not-so-tiny crush and every visit to the bakery only made you fall deeper for him.

Namjoon has assured you that Jungkook clearly has a crush on you too, but you’re quick to shut him down. It is one thing to be shy and awkward around a girl and another to have a crush on the aforementioned girl. As you visited the bakery more and more, you do notice that Jungkook is more reserved when it comes to other female clientele, although, dare you hope? He does seem a little bit more… nervous, when he talks to you, but that could be your lovesick eyes playing tricks on you.

Never mind the fact that he only ever seems to leave cute doodles on your cups alone, but that could just be a coincidence, right? After all, he can hardly hold a conversation with you when you try to speak with him, always eager to rush to the backroom to make your drink.

Your visits usually consist of making idle chit chat with Jimin after greeting both him and Jungkook. The younger boy often dips the moment he sees you through the glass door, automatically going to prepare your favorite summer treat without even having to ask for your order. He never stays to stick around long enough to make conversation, as he eventually excuses himself to do some chore or another. During one of your trips, you tentatively asked Jimin if Jungkook was avoiding you, to which the blonde boy just laughed heartily at your query.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. He’ll come around eventually; he’s just nervous. Don’t tell him I told you this, but…” he trails off, peeking over his shoulder to make sure Jungkook wouldn’t accidentally overhear him. When he turns back to you, the smirk on his face is equal parts amused and mischievous. He looks a little impish, though you aren’t sure if he’d take that too kindly. “Jungkook always stares out the door, waiting for you to arrive. I’ve caught him red-handed far too many times for it to be a coincidence.”

Your cheeks flush warmly at his words but don’t say anything after that. You suppose all you can do is wait for him to start warming up to you eventually, and you hope the day comes sooner as the summer days grow shorter and shorter.

Of course, that day does come eventually, but probably not on the day you wished it would happen.

Like all good things, summer comes to its close and so does the summer menu options offered at Euphoria Bakery. Jimin had already told you a week beforehand that your favorite strawberry shortcake milkshake would get phased out as soon as July hit, but you refused to listen. You had hoped that as his regular customer and friend, perhaps Jimin would make an exception and prolong the milkshake’s lifetime for your sake, but it seems that Jimin has made it clear that friendship and business are two separate entities that he will not allow to coincide.

“Please Jimin? Just one more time? I’ll even settle for a small size,” you beg, your entire body draped over the cashier counter like the pathetic plebeian that you are. Thankfully, since you have made it a habit to pass by the bakery when it’s close to closing time, there aren’t any other patrons left to judge your pitiful display. Unthankfully, that also means Jimin is free to flick you on the forehead with no holds barred, leaving a large red welt where his finger hits.

“I already told you that I won’t budge, not even if you licked my Balenciagas. Besides, we’re out of strawberries anyway.” Jimin huffs, rolling his eyes at your pained whines as you grasp your head in agony. “Oh stop it, will you? I didn’t even hit you that hard.”

“I beg to differ, hyung.” Jungkook pipes up, startling both you and Jimin. Jungkook is usually content to wiping down the glass displays or tables while he passively listens to the two of you bicker, humming occasionally to indicate that he’s still listening, so it comes as a small surprise whenever he does decide to speak up. He must have noticed this too, as his ears quickly begin to redden as he scrambles to finish his sentence. “I-I mean, hyung might have small hands, but his finger flicks are no joke. You could break someone’s skull with that thing.”

“Who are you calling small, huh?” Jimin growls, but the playful smirk on his face tells you that he’s just teasing. He pulls Jungkook in a headlock, who surprisingly doesn’t seem all that bothered by the fact that Jimin is actively trying to block his windpipe with his strong forearms. “Take it back!”

“Never,” Jungkook wheezes, effortlessly removing himself from Jimin’s grip. He dusts himself off, not even breathless. “Also, why’d you lie to Y/N like that? We still have strawberries in the back. How else would we make our strawberry jam tarts?”

Jimin squawks indignantly, folding his arms. “How dare you sell out our company secrets! I could fire you for that!”

Jungkook scoffs, bumping Jimin with his hip. Jungkook must also not know his own strength, because he accidentally causes Jimin to stumble a few steps back, nearly toppling over one of their bread racks. “You’re joking. If you fired me, no one would be able to make the bagels in the morning because you never know how to proof them correctly.”

“Slander!” Jimin hisses, pinching Jungkook’s side in retaliation. You and Jungkook laugh at his childish pouts, but the older boy can’t hide his own mirth for too long. “Fine. You can stay. But you,” he points at you this time, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “You better not seduce my boy over here to make your strawberry shortcake milkshake. I have eyes and ears everywhere.” He drags his finger to the corner of the walls, where there is—

“There’s nothing there?” You follow where he’s pointing, but all you can see is a stray cobweb that Jungkook must have missed while dusting this morning. “Am I supposed to be looking at something?”

“Jimin is thinking of installing surveillance cameras soon. He’s convinced that someone is trying to steal his banana cream pie recipe.” Jungkook shrugs. He slings an arm around Jimin’s shoulder, glaringly delighted when their height difference becomes even more apparent while he stands close to him. “Anyway, I promise I won’t get ‘seduced’ by her, or whatever you want to call it. Why don’t you head home early for tonight? I’ll close up and I’ll try to convince Y/N to try our other pastries as a replacement.”

You open your mouth to try and protest, but Jungkook sends you a cheeky wink, making sure that his boss doesn’t catch him in the act. Bemused but interested to see what he’s up to, you decide to keep quiet and wait for him to continue.

“Don’t try and think you’re being slick here, buddy,” Jimin says, closing in on Jungkook’s personal space by pressing his chest against his. “If I see that you break the bakery code and serve her that drink… There will be consequences.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, sighing dramatically as he gently pries the smaller man away from him. “Yeah, yeah. I got you. No funny business, I promise. Now get out of here, hyung. Leave the rest to me.”

Jimin gives him one last firm look before squinting warily at you, lips pursed tightly. “No seducing,” he repeats, wagging his finger at you. He unties the apron around his neck, throwing it haphazardly at the coat hanger on the back door where his jacket was hanging. He folds it over his arm and points at the corner of the ceiling with his free hand once more before exiting through the front entrance, the soft bells hanging above the doorway tinkling in his wake.

When he’s gone, you release a breath that you hadn’t realized you had been holding. “Well, that was easier than expected. I didn’t think you’d be able to get him to leave. He must trust you a lot, huh?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Nah. He’s just lazy. He hates closing the bakery and will jump at any opportunity to go home early.”

You nod. “Seems like him.” There’s a beat of silence. “So… How much seducing am I gonna have to do to get my milkshake, huh?”

Like you guessed, Jungkook immediately turns red at your words, spluttering and stammering over his spit for a few seconds before managing to come up with a reply. “O-oh, there’s no need for that. I was gonna make the drink for you anyway.”

“But what about the quote-unquote consequences?” you ask, still worried that you might be getting Jungkook in trouble. You’d rather have your arm cut off than have him get punished, no matter how small it might be.

“No need to worry about that. Jimin might pretend to be a prickly old man sometimes, but he’s mostly just full of hot air,” Jungkook snorts, shaking his head in amusement. “He’ll just make me treat him to some skewers or something. He’s just teasing.”

“If… If you say so? I just really don’t want him to get angry with you…” you say, voice turning small as you tried to reign your embarrassment in. “I know I made a fool of myself just moments ago and begged like a baby for the milkshake, but I was just exaggerating…”

“Something tells me that you aren’t, but let’s pretend for your sake that you are,” Jungkook says. You huff indignantly at his teasing, but you’re more overjoyed by the sight of his cute bunny smile. You had only seen it in passing a few times in the past, but seeing it directed at you is an entirely different experience. Because of you, your mind helpfully supplies.

He heads over to the backroom to begin preparing your drink, but he keeps the door open this time so you can see him even from behind the counter. You can mostly only see the large industrial ovens and bread racks filled to the brim with all sorts of pastries proofing for the night, but you do catch a glimpse of the sole blender near the back. Jungkook grabs the glass jar first and then walks over to the fridge just out of your sight, most likely to grab the ingredients needed for your milkshake.

The bakery is mostly silent, save for the sound of Jungkook moving and assembling everything. You rack your brain for some sort of conversation starter, as the atmosphere between the two of you has begun to return to its usual awkward state as you skirt around each other, unsure of where either of you stands. You might have known him for a while now, but today is the most you’ve ever spoken to him and the tension is palpable.

“So.” You clear your throat, heart beating a mile a minute in your chest. “I… guess this is going to be the last time I have this drink, huh?”

The sound of Jungkook chopping on the cutting board pauses for a second. You can only see his left shoulder from where you’re standing, but you can see it tense even then. “I… I mean, will you stop coming over to the bakery if it is the last time?”

There are so many things you want to say all at once, but the words somehow get caught in your throat. You want to say that you love coming to the bakery to see them (though it’s mostly Jungkook if you’re being honest) and that the strawberry shortcake milkshake had just been an excuse to visit for a while now. You want to keep visiting for as long as they’ll have you—but you don’t know how to say it without hot humiliation running down your spine. You don’t want to weird him out by confessing to him all of a sudden. And so, you clam up, not knowing how to respond.

When Jungkook throws in all the ingredients in the blender, he doesn’t turn it on immediately. He tilts his head to the side, not fully looking at you but giving you a view of his beautiful side profile. You see his Adam’s apple bob for a moment, his tongue poking out to wet his lips before he speaks. “Because… If that’s how it’s going to be, then maybe… buying a couple of skewers for Jimin won’t be so bad.”

You freeze. “What? Are you saying that...”

“I’ll keep making the drink for you, even if it’s not on the menu anymore?” Jungkook finishes, turning fully to face you. There’s a shy grin on his face, coupled with the ever-present pink flush high on his cheekbones. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. We’ll have to be sneaky about it, though. You’ll have to come to the bakery only when I’m closing so that he doesn’t catch us but otherwise…” He scratches the tip of his nose, looking embarrassed. “If… If you’re fine doing that, I mean.”

It feels like an eternity before you can remember how to function like a regular human being again. Your insides feel like molten lava and you’re certain that your internal organs have begun to self-destruct right after that super-effective hit from Jeon Jungkook, super baker boy extraordinaire. It’s mind-blowing how effortlessly cute he can be, making you realize belatedly that his quiet demeanor over the past few weeks had been a blessing and not a curse. If he had been this sweet with you from the get-go, you’d surely be melted butter on a sidewalk by now.

“I would love you—I mean, I would love it if you did that for me, actually.” You stammer, resisting the urge to punch yourself in the tit. You’re thankful for the lack of mirrors at the bakery, for you are positive that you must look like the devil’s blazing red testicles at this point.

“Great,” Jungkook smiles softly. He turns the blender off, pouring your drink into a paper cup. “Oh, before I forget…” He grabs a marker from the small tin can near the cash register, and you watch as he quickly scribbles a few hearts around the circumference of the cup. “There we go. Now it’s done.”

As Jungkook hands your drink to you, you’re hit with a moment of déjà vu when your fingers brush just like the first time you had met. You sense the same familiar shock of electricity when you touch, but instead of pulling away like before, Jungkook surprises you for the third time that day.

When he’s sure that you have a secure grip on your cup, he grabs your free hand with his, unfurling your fingers until he can get a hold of your pinky. He curls his pinky into yours, linking them together with a bashful smile on his lips. “There. Now we pinky promised to each other.”

“Y-yes. Of course,” you mumble, giggling lightly when he still refuses to let go. “I pinky promise.”

.

.

.

Five minutes away from Euphoria Bakery, Jimin sits quietly in his parked car, his figure hunched over the small screen of his phone as he chuckles loudly to himself. There is a tiny video of two people, a boy and a girl, with their hands held together. Despite the quality being grainy and warped, Jimin needs no confirmation as to who those people are; he’s always known, after all.

“All according to keikaku.” He whistles happily, already salivating at the thought of all the skewers Jungkook will have to buy for him.

#yoonkooknetwork #bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts #bts imagines #bts fluff #bakery!au #jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #bts fanfic #bangtan #beebeebooboo... hello world i am a fluff writer now :D #haha... not suspicious at all... owo #anyway pls tell me what u think!! yay for commissions ^q^

[getyouasenju]

Dragging It In.

Part 3/3 to the “Dragging” series

Part 1 “Dragging Along”

Part 2 “Dragging Away”

Warnings: some small spoilers, curse words, some suggestive themes, angst, (maybe some spelling errors I’m sorry!).

Word Count: 3.7k

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“(Y/N)”

I could hear my name being called from my slumber. I felt sore all over, my head was throbbing and my throat was entirely too dry to function. Being a shinobi I was no stranger to the scratchy unbelievably tightly tucked sheets and the sterile smell. I was in a hospital for what ever reason. I hear my name being softly called again. Forcing my sore eyes open I see my pink haired friend peering over my bed. Scrunching my eyes in reaction the sudden change of lighting caused a searing pain in my head. Crossing her arms and glaring at me, Sakura spoke sarcastically, “It hurts doesn’t it? That’s what happens when you leave a head injury untreated after a mission”. My eyes widen and I stared at her cheekily. She smiled sweetly back at me... too sweet for the friend I know. I didn’t even get a chance to brace myself before she struck me.

“CHA!”

I hiss and grab my now stinging shoulder. “God damn it Sakura, I’m in a hospital bed for fucks sake! Do you strike all your patients?” She crossed her arms and smiled at me, “Only the ones I’m best friends with that promise to see me in the morning to get checked out and then never show up! I mean come on (Y/N), how hard of a hit did you take on that mission to have to put you out of commission like this?” I thought back to the rainy mission and sighed, rubbing my shoulder I looked at my friend “Not that hard... only hard enough to lose consciousness..” grinning I laughed nervously as she started balling her fist again.

“Hey! you can’t hit me again, I have a head injury Sakura- god!” I cried out bracing myself this time. “That shoulder looks pretty fine to me!” Sakura replies brushing some of her hair out of her face. “Not-uh it’s pretty bruised now if you ask me.” I whined back, praying she doesn’t strike again. Can I get a new nurse that isn’t my worried friend? “That’s why you have two shoulders!” I paled as my eyes widened. “Sakura, please!” She quickly put one hand on her hip, the other pointing at me “Don’t Sakura me! You could’ve done some real damage (Y/N)! and don’t think I don’t see that your ring is missing!” So all of our friends are just gonna get dragged into this mess huh? .... Maybe I should just simply pass out again.

Between our bickering the door croaked open and in walks the shadow man. Sakura whips around placing her hands on her hips. “Excuse me Shikamaru, It’s not visitors hours yet, you just can’t waltz in here anytime you like, fiancé’s included!” I scoffed laying back and tugging the blankets further up my body. Didn’t just mention she noticed the missing ring? I already told him I didn’t want to speak with him... and he still smelled like cigarettes! This was a hospital, he’s gonna give someone an asthma attack. I turned my head to fully examine the Nara. He looked as bad as I felt, dark circles an unbuttoned vest and a loosened ponytail. As he should!

Sighing deeply while still holding the door handle, Shikamaru looks at Sakura pleading with his eyes. Taking her hands off her hips, Sakura looks at me then back at Shikamaru, I could see the gears turning in her head. Crossing her arms and sighing, “Just this once Nara! I’ll be back later (Y/N), I’ll bring an ice pack for that shoulder!” She laughs while giving my hand a friendly squeeze. Giving me her signature smile, she departs waving at Shikamaru on the way out.

As he watches her close the door, he turns to the right and grabs the chair in the corner. The sound of the dragging was highly irritating and I rolled my eyes as I fought the urge to pull the blankets over my head and just ignore the man. He pulls the chair to my bedside and sits down trying to make eye contact with me andI was refusing to give it to him. Sighing again he leaned back in the chair. 

“You had some head injuries, you should be fine but you should’ve went to the hospital immediately after that mission, and that fall made it worse.” He sounded strained. I just nodded at him, thinking back to the mission and how outnumbered my team was. “You know, I was terrified when you went down like that.” He let out a shaky sigh putting his hands together in his lap. “Why didn’t you go in (Y/N)- god” He drags his hands down his face, “Are you doing this to spite me? Not going to be seen, then going and asking for a dangerous mission. Are you trying to get yourself killed?” I sat up straight in my bed and finally made the eye contact that he was searching for. 

“I went home first because I missed you, I hadn’t seen you in over a fucking month!” letting out a humorless laugh I continued, “I didn’t avoid being seen to spite you, I went home first instead of being seen because you’re my first priority- but apparently I wasn’t yours.” Asking for that mission though was just a tad bit spiteful though, but I’m in no position to admit to that! By the end of my rant I wanted him out, I was tempted to hit the call button. I could feel the anger in the air from both of us. He broke the silence first. “You should trust me, you know nothing would ever happen between Temari and I, I’m with you, I’ve been with you for the last four fucking years!” I was livid, trust him? I do fucking trust him!

“I trust you Shikamaru, you don’t trust me because if you trusted me, you would’ve told me why you went to see her and you wouldn’t of left without making things right with me first.” He reaches for my hand, but I snatched it away shoving it under the blankets, he looked so crestfallen. He opens and closes his mouth several times before scooting his chair closer to my bed.

“Please give me your hand, (Y/N). Please don’t make me beg.”

I was hesitant, I didn’t know if I wanted to be touched by him at the moment but, he looked determined and I was nervous. I pulled my hand from under the blanket and he quickly reached for it. Grabbing my smaller hand in his larger calloused one, he let out a content sigh slowly rubbing circles on the back of my hand, moving almost impossibly slower when grazing over the bare left ring finger. “What do I have to do to get this ring back where it belongs.”

“Shikamaru I question your IQ everyday, don’t play stupid with me.”

I slowly start to retract my hand but his grip on me tightens ever so slightly. “I already have a head injury, can you stop making my brain hurt more? Either tell me why you ran to her side or let me and my hand go. Now.” I groaned out, I was getting annoyed, and fast. When was Sakura coming back with that ice pack again? The pain in my shoulder was dull now, but boy can that girl pack a punch and Shikamaru might as well be punching me in my brain right now.

When he suddenly let go of my hand, my heart started to race. Was he going to leave again? If he left me again then I knew for sure that we just weren’t meant to be. I laid back, I just wanted to curl into a ball and disappear. More so, I want him to stop dragging this out. I opened my mouth to dismiss him when he suddenly spoke “Rasa”.

...Rasa, the fourth Kazekage. Also the father of the sand siblings, but what about him. I was just outright confused now. “Shikamaru, can you elaborate?” He straightened up looking for that eye contact again, this time I granted it to him. “It was the anniversary of Rasa’s death” grabbing for my hand again he continued. “Temari is here on the account of business between the leaf and the sand. This is the first time she wasn’t with Gaara and Kankuro during this time.” he sighed deeply. 

“He wasn’t always the best father but he was all they had, not being with her siblings for this affected her deeply. She’s the eldest and her siblings mean everything to her, they always have, she wants them to be able to depend on her. I’m the person she’s closest to in the leaf, so she called me.” he finished. Now I was even more confused. Why didn’t he just say that? “So you left me without explanation for what? You couldn’t just say this to me?”.

“I didn’t think you would understand.” I was baffled. He thought of all people that I wouldn’t understand. “You didn’t think I would understand, or is it that you didn’t want me to understand, Shikamaru.” I snatch my hand back again, this time for good. “I watched you mourn for your father after the war. You held it together on the field but I saw what it did to you after!” I rushed the words out so fast I felt like I was running out of breath but I went on, “I held Yoshino as she cried, I saw what it did to her, how it drained her, how it almost ruined her!” My head was throbbing again but I wasn’t done yet. “Tell me Shikamaru, did you run into my parents on the way here? how about someone from my clan, some siblings of mine? Please tell me they came to see me in my time of need Shikamaru!” I let out a pitiful laugh, “It’d be a miracle if you did, considering they’re all six feet under.” I let my shoulders drop as I leaned back staring straight ahead of me. There had to be more to it than this.

In a small voice I whispered to him, “You don’t think I have it in my heart to let someone who has experienced a loss have some comfort?”. I wanted to cry, more importantly I wanted him gone, at least my head did. He said nothing, but he doesn’t get to sit at my bedside in silence after this. I spoke again, still looking straight ahead, “Get out Shikamaru. You have my permission to leave this time, I won’t be mad. You’re giving me a migraine,” He still doesn’t move, so I whip my head around, I was tired. “Why are you pretending to fight so hard for us? Just admit you’re not as in love with me as you think you are”. I could hear my own heartbeat as I looked at Shikamaru. “It’s okay If you’re in love with Temari, I’ll be fine Shika. You can let me go.” If I had to let him go for his happiness, I was okay with that. He finally snaps his eyes me.

“I’m not in love with Temari, (Y/N).” How can he sit here and be so fucking vague with me? I felt not only emotionally exposed but physically as well with the tiny hospital gown. I wrap my arms around myself since I was the only comfort I’ve had these past few days. “There’s something there , I just wish you would be honest with me. If you’re not happy with me, then just let me go.” I was speaking as softly as I could, trying best to keep my voice from shaking. What kind of person did he think I was if he thought I lacked that much sympathy? I was a shinobi, but I wasn’t heartless. I at the very least expected him to know that.

“Temari will always have a spot in my heart,”

There it was, I didn’t want to hear anymore of it. when I said let me go, I didn’t mean give me a speech to verbally break my heart, he could easily just leave the room. Did he think I was going to listen to his confessions? wrong! I reach my hand out for the call button, if Sakura wasn’t coming back anytime soon, then someone else needed to come and rescue me, immediately. I felt his warm hand gently grab mine. “no more running, no more arguing, no more beating around the bush. Just you and I.” he sighed as he looked right into my eyes. He stands up and nudges me, signaling for me to scoot over giving him a spot on the bed. I felt conflicted, I really did love this man. We’ve shared our love and our lives for four years, but even before that I loved him. He could sense my hesitation and smoothes my hair down gently with his hand while gently nudging me over again. I give into the raven haired man and slowly slid to the right side of the bed making sure my IV’s were out of his way, the motion causing the back of my gown to open a bit to which I quickly pulled closed.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before” He smirked at me. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as I ball the blanket in my hands. This isn’t the time for cheeky jokes! I was flustered and honestly feeling pretty vulnerable. His chuckle wasn’t helping the situation too much either. How dare he joke with me at a time like this! My shoulder was still throbbing but that didn’t stop me from attempting to smack the man. I winced as my hand hit something hard and glared at Shikamaru. Looking at me warily, he pulled out the pack of cigarettes and rubbed the back of his neck “You know I smoke when I’m stressed.” I remember when he picked up the nasty habit, and then I remembered why he did. I felt immediately guilty for contributing to that... but still the smell of cigarettes was just so gross. 

He leans back, slowly starting to snake his arm around my waist while watching my facial expressions for a reaction. When he saw me make no attempt to remove him, he sighed and pulled my body into his. “I missed you.” he quietly tells me... funny how he misses me, but me missing him is what got us into this entire situation. I decide to keep my thoughts to myself and train my eyes on the corner of the blanket I was currently picking at. I could feel him staring at me. 

“I remember when Asuma died.” My breath caught in my throat and I immediately dropped the blanket I was picking at. I didn’t know where this was going, but I knew it was going to be a painful ride. I felt him tilt his head as he continued, “I held it in for a long time. It took my father to pull it out of me.” I knew the story, I wasn’t too close with Shikamaru at the time, but a bond between a student and their sensei is strong. I didn’t have to know them, to know that. “Point of the story is I didn’t feel comfort in anyone... so I held it in, I felt like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. I didn’t want anyone to coddle me, not even Temari and at that point in time, I was in love with her. I think I’ve only ever cried twice in my life in front of an audience.” He let out a sigh. By now I was fully looking up at him with curious eyes.

“When my father died in the war, I wanted to do the same. I held that pain in for my comrades, I didn’t want my fathers, nor Ino’s, deaths to be in vain.” He takes his other hand and grips my chin continuing on. “When the war was over I didn’t want to face it, but I had you. If it weren’t for you and Naruto, I don’t know how my mother would’ve made it another day.” He starts to smile a bit at me, “and suddenly I wanted to be coddled. I wanted you to hold me, to talk to me, to force me to eat when I didn’t want to, to be there when I slept and when I woke. I found comfort in you, and I still do.” He was stroking my cheek by now. “You made me realize that sometimes, It’s okay to coddle those in need. That sometimes even the strongest shinobi need a hug, need to shed some tears or just simply need some comfort. So, yes I went to comfort Temari but that was it, I finally understood how to give what you give me everyday.” 

He moved me almost impossibly closer to him “I was a fool to think the most comforting woman in the world wouldn’t understand grief when she has had a handful of it herself.” By the end of his speech my head injury was long forgotten, I had an aching heart. “I can’t believe I let the most important person in my life down. The person who gives me the most security asked for just a bit of it and I refused it to give it to her like an idiot.”

“Please hear me when I say this, there was a time in my life where I thought Temari and I were meant to be, but I know there is a lifetime where you and I belong together. You are it for me, nothing happened.” He tilted my head, searching my face for a reaction when the first tear ran down my face. Shikamaru was taken back and seemed a little panicky at the sight of me crying. I’d have to be heartless to not shed a tear for that confession, this man was everything I’ve ever wanted and I’d be lost- I’d been lost without him.

I reach arms up and around his neck as he brushes the tears from my eyes. “Shikamaru please don’t scare me like that ever again, I won’t make it to the wedding day if I die of a heart attack.” Burying my face into his shoulder, I ignore the smell of cigarettes. I could feel him release a breath of air at my proclamation, squeezing me tighter in return. Suddenly he’s pushing me off and scrambling off the bed, but I didn’t understand. I thought we were making up and there he goes running off again! “Shika, didn’t I just tell you not to scare me again? Hey! get back over here!” I told him slightly out of breath from the change in position and pouting.

I had put myself in an upright position watching as he frantically searched through his pockets with his back to me. Sighing in relief as he finally found what he was looking for, he quickly turned back to me and dropped to his knee. My ring! “(Y/N), please don’t ever make me take this ring back again, I don’t know if my heart could take it. Will you please be my fiancée again?” He was proposing to me again! I quickly nod my head shoving my bare ring finger in the cloud gazing man’s face as he returned it back to its rightful spot and we sealed it with a kiss. A knock at the door separated us.

Sakura came in pushing a cart, “Just coming by to change (Y/N)’s IV dressing!” Shikamaru takes a step back, taking a seat in the chair by my bedside as Sakura moves in close. Gently grabbing my hand, she started changing the IV dressing, of course it was the left one. I could feel her smirking at my hand. “That’s a nice ring there (Y/N), is it new!?” the medical genius teased me snickering. She knew we would make up. I couldn’t help but laugh with her. “Yeah, Shikamaru just gave it to me, isn’t it cute?” I joked back. letting out a complete and full laugh now, the pink haired woman agreed while Shikamaru face palmed. “Who knew you’d be able to get two proposals out of this lazy one!” Shikamaru was full on groaning at this point.

Another knock on the door lead to a huge bouquet with some legs poking out from under it! Ino! “I didn’t know which arrangement you’d like best so I decided to bring you all of them!” Ino was the sweetest girl and I was grateful that Shikamaru had brought us together. “Here Shikamaru, hold these!” Ino drops the bouquet into the Nara’s lap and moved to hug Sakura and then me. Another loud groan was released from the shadow man. “Was all of this really necessary Ino? (Y/N) is getting discharged tomorrow.” Shikamaru complains holding onto the heavy arrangements.

“Get used to looking at arrangements Shika! You’ll get your fair share when we’re planning our wedding.” I smirk and wink at my fiancé dearest as the two women shriek and join hands. “You’re starting the wedding planning?!” Sakura says dreamily as I nod, “Yep, want to start my lifetime with that one soon”. I reply smirking at my soon to be husband. “About time! I’m on flower duty!” Ino proclaims. I just nod my head in agreement, stuck in a staring contest with Shikamaru.

“How troublesome... you two are going to turn my girlfriend into a bridezilla.” He smirks and lets out his typical sigh.

“Not-uh, I’m not your girlfriend Shikamaru, I’m your fiancée, remember?” Using his own line on him I giggled. We smiled so hard at each other that I swore my cheeks were going to cave in.

“How about a spring wedding?!” Sakura shrieks, “With roses!” Ino excitedly adds.

I was so grateful for everyone in that room, and I couldn’t wait to drag Shikamaru back into our home where we belonged, together.

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The Final part of the “Dragging” series guys! I’m still new and learning so Imma just apologize If you hated it lolll. Not sure if I’ll do anything else with this series, I might do a different series! feel free to message me!

Until Next Time! xxo (▰∀◕)ﾉ

#naruto imagine #naruto imagines #shikamara nara #shika #shikamaru #angst #shikamaru angst #shikamaru nara angst #shikamaru angst imagines #shikamaru nara imagine #shikamaru nara imagines #shikamaru Imagine #naruto angst #anime #anime imagine #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru nara x reader #shikamaru x y/n