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vampiretendencies · 1 year

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went out searching for an angel, then you came to me my darling ✩

request; hi love!! i had an idea of what jj would be like on a first date with his crush of all time!! maybe he’s been chasing her for ages and now the day is finally here where he gets to take her out! maybe he picked up extra shifts in preparation so he can pay for dinner and he’s all shy and nervous because he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing and even bought a new shirt so he looks all pretty for her? i love your fics so much, i hope you like this idea, can’t wait to see what you do with it pairing; jj maybank x fem!reader (reader is kind of a badass) warnings; fluff, i decided to set this while they are in high school still cause it just seemed right, BUT they are seniors here, making them 18. my characters are always aged up, keep that in mind. mentions of jj’s dad, luke, bullying, suggestive. proofread, but may find mistakes authors note; i knew the second i got this request i had to do it immediately. this is so cute, thank you for requesting.

JJ has devoted his time to leaving love letters in your locker.

Sliding the thin colored paper into the slit with definition. No, they weren't your typical secret admirer notes, JJ made it clearly evident that it was him. Always adamant in writing 'from JJ' in big capital letters, maybe even a small heart by it. Though, he just recently begun to add the heart, debating as to whether or not it was too much. Doesn't matter if it's lunch or a five-minute locker break, he's leaving a damn note in your locker, usually at the end of the day papers are flying to the mucky tiled school floors after opening the pliable metal door to the locker. And still you collect them all from the hopelessly swooning boy.

Some were insanely dumb, catching glance of one that said something along this lines of, 'my lips wanna' touch yours so bad, let's make it happen?'.

One may say that this is quite desperate of JJ.

But, this is the sight he's been fervent for, for years.

He’s sure his fascination started mid freshmen year. He remembers it like yesterday, vividly. There was a group of much older bullies encircling him in the school courtyard. Taunting him for his appearance, as if he were a freak show. His dad had gotten fired from yet another job, failing drug tests, never sober. JJ was sure Luke didn’t even know that the school year had begun. His shoes that year were so busted up, holes in the heal with the soles nearly falling apart; the same shoes he'd worn the past few years. Today, that is why he wears the irreplaceable combat boot, takes a lot to damage a thick black combat boot. His clothes that year, he'd outgrown them in more ways than one making them not up to par with the apparent bullies' standards. Scarring him to the point of no return, especially since you were there. You happened to be the reason he was fleeing that situation, not that JJ couldn't fight his own battles or that he was frightened. But it was that you noticed him. And, that you noticed him enough to not just walk by and act like you didn't see it happening. Oh, and it was that you ran the ignorant bullies away with a pocketknife you had tucked into your ankle length socks. Now that was what truly had JJ alarmed that day, a dainty, captivating girl waving a sharp knife around and looking mighty seductive doing so. What's not to like? You yanked him by the arm that day, and he's felt that pull since.

"Never tell anyone you saw that shit," you'd been referring to the knife and all JJ did was keep his mouth agape, astounded by the clutch your power had on him. He didn't, no one knows about that day except you, him, and the threatened classmates that did the bullying. Not even the Pogues knew.

He's been hooked since then, fastidious at best— enthralled that you existed at the same time as him. And he wasn't going to just not do anything about it.

Being a pest is what you'd known him best for. Proving your point as he'd leaned strikingly so on the lockers next to yours, blue irises tracing the outline of your figure. He can't fathom that you'd get more enchanting with every glance he steals.

The school day is ending, and rewiring of brains are beginning for the weekend. Hundreds of worn out bodies flood through the school doors, and you are trying to be one of them but someone’s mouth keeps moving.

JJ clears his throat before he speaks, about to aim toward the question he’s asked multiple times over the span of three years and each time it’s just as nerve wracking.

“Hi, pretty girl,” his voice chirped, cheery in a way. You became fond of the plentiful pet name, and it drew your attention as it always did.

You haven’t made it obvious to JJ as why you’ve been turning him down repeatedly, constantly sending him off with his head hanging low in defeat. It was ego shattering, he’d admit, it wasn’t something detrimental though. He was committed to persuading you into giving him a chance. Just one, and even if you absolutely despised him after, at least he’d be able to say he got to go on a date with an everlasting presence such as yours.

Your permanent ‘no’s’ have been due to you desiring to keep your independence. Especially with this being senior year, and it coming to a close soon. It’s a known fact that typically everyone goes their separate ways after high school, so where would going on a date fit in that picture? A relationship to you had always been viewed as a parasite interaction, was it actually real? Leading the poor boy on just wasn’t something you could fathom doing— sure, he was more than easy on the eyes, with his sun kissed blonde tresses and his fully plastered tempting smirk … and, that’s not the point … the point is you couldn’t give pieces of yourself away for it to be of no meaning in a month when this is all over.

It would’ve been demeaning.

Astronomically stupid.

His jawline.

Each time he tried the more you fought it, though the way he appears today is just of sheer attraction.

Christ, he's fucking hot.

Thank fuck he's not an inch closer or you swore you might've jumped his bones. You couldn't have given him the satisfaction of knowing that.

"Hi JJ."

The way his name leaves off of your tongue he wishes it were possible to frame a voice, engrave it, keep it forever. Yesterday he was almost on the verge of stealing your strawberry flavored chapstick, thinking that if he would've put it on his lips that you would've 'kissed' him. Yeah, he's got it real bad.

"I like those pants, really accentuates what you've got goin' on back there," JJ didn't intend on saying that. He's letting his mouth overload his ass, earning a sheepish gaze from you whilst you dump this week's JJ themed notes into the front compartment of your book bag. Holding contact with your eyes, still makes him feel like today might be the day.

"You like my ass Maybank, should've just said that."

Your voice is monotone, slamming the locker and throwing the bag over your shoulder. You lean mirroring him, engaging in the conversation as of now. Knowing what he's going to ask, as this is an everyday thing. Perhaps, going as friends would be something of consideration, just try it out.

What’s the worst?

Having a extremely stunning boy as a friend?

Just say yes, don’t think twice. Hate yourself for it later— your thoughts consumed you.

He blows air into his cheeks, anxiousness has overcome him tenfold. Hand raking over the tufts of hair at the back his neck, displaying it in obviousness. “Yes I do like your ass, and I have liked that same ass for three years.”

You urge a slight giggle, and he thinks he’s going to melt into nothing on the spot.

“Do something about it then.”

You taunt, aware he’s done everything about it. It’s just quite funny to see the stressed out stare turn into furrowed eyebrows with a slack mouth. Stunned at the sudden aggression, maybe things would be on his side this time. He refuses to question it, thinking he was playing coy alike with you.

“Depends, are you gonna’ break my little heart this time?”

He fakes fainting, whilst grasping at the cotton material of his shirt that covered his heart. Causing a scene as per usual, despite most of the school population gone by now. His brain has turned to mush, the way you’re on your tippy toes for a better look.

“Ask me,” you tilt your head a bit, encouraging him to do so. A smooth movement of your thumb and it’s grazing the skin of his lips, outlining them in perfect harmony. You’d never been this straightforward before, and he can’t fucking get enough of it.

“Let me take you out for dinner tonight, pretty girl. Y’know I’m not givin’ up … so me, you, a Kooky restaurant tonight at seven, yeah? How’s that sound?”

You heart flutters insatiably— you had to hand it to him though, his effort was impeccable and a night with JJ Maybank sounds a bit promising in its own meticulous way.

Let him have it, just this once.

It probably won’t lead to anything, so then looking back on it when the school year is over it will be just another memory, right? You thought, sticking to original reason that nothing out of high school becomes something worthy and then some.

“You’re gonna spend your life savings on one Kook meal?”

“For you, anything.”

Just say yes.

“One date okay?” you shove at his chest playfully, making an b-line toward the large steel doors. Watching you walk away, was sensational he might add. “One date Maybank!”

You reminded again, and still he wants to collapse on the middle of this dirty, shoe printed school floor. He was so giddy, jumping in elation.

“M’goin’ on a date!”

He relishes loudly, echoing through the halls of the school and you shake you head in disbelief as it rings in your ears the second your palm meets with the handle of the exit. JJ’s history teacher is peering around the corner, Mr. Sunn is somewhat proud of the boy he’s taught over his course of high school. Overhearing conversations between him in class, John B, and Pope in class, all they were ever about was you.

“You need to get going JJ,” Mr. Sunn pronounced, as JJ is standing in a now completely empty school. Twirling around on his feet, resembling a child that just got the toy they been begging for.

“She’s goin’ on a date with me Mr. Sunn!”

There’s a jar in JJ’s room at the chateau that’s labeled ‘when she says yes.’ It’s a mason jar, with money stuffed to the brim. Landing his job back at the country club as a waiter months ago, he took twenty dollars out of every check and put it in that sacred jar. And, then he mentally noted that he’d need more than just that if he wanted the night to really be worth while. He needed elegant clothes, and to get the biggest bouquet of roses he could possibly find.

He had plans for the roses— intending on wrapping every last layer in a love confessing sticky note. Because he’d like to think that that’s how this fresh romance is coming to be. He yearned ardently for you to know each and every reason as to why you were the only girl that walked planet earth in his eyes.

He wanted to discover your sweet spots, he craved to know how his lips molded with yours, he desired to know how your small hand would fit in his, and he was ravenously hoping to see your exemplary, pure body pressed against his.

JJ’s fingertips are colliding with an iron and an ironing board. Stood in the middle of John B’s living room, steadily removing every crease from his new, costly shirt— it was simple but effective; an angelic white short sleeve corduroy button up. Not too out of his comfort zone, but different enough for you to be able to tell he tried. Along with black pants that hugged his thighs and let loose around his ankles, and his combat boots— something he couldn’t switch up on.

It’s not JJ if he isn’t wearing those damn boots.

Kie and Pope are grimmacing on the dusty couch, surrounded by opened snacks and different assortments. They tended to pick fun at JJ, for chasing after something that’s wasn’t. But tonight it was.

For, he’s going to have his heavenly vision— that is you, before him and that’s making his body malfunction. To him, it was a privilege, to be breathing the same air as you. You could probably punch him in the gut, and he’d say thank you.

"Do you think she'll like this?" JJ shyly questions, so out of character holding up the freshly ironed shirt that is wrinkle free and now on a hanger. It caught Sarahs eye, who is cuddled into John B's side by the kitchen island. JJ knew it would've been much easier to just take it the dry cleaners, but it simply wasn't in his price range. And he relished in the fact that he earned such clothing, taking every great length to show his everchanging infatuation with you

"I definitely think she will," Sarah sends a reassuring smile his way, and he lowers the shirt to his side, counting down the last few remnants until he has to get ready, following through to pick you up.

"He's so fuckin' pussy-whipped over her, she's ruined him man," John B's sarcastic tone is not going to interrupt JJ's overwhelming exhilaration for tonight.

"Pussy-whipped and proud, she's gonna' be my girl, you'll see."

"You've been saying that for the past three years," Pope chuckles somewhat nudging Kie to laugh at the joke, but it wasn't of humor to her.

"M'taking the twinkie tonight."

With that JJ turns the iron off, shooting all of the Pogues his long middle finger, stepping slyly off into his bedroom, closing the door swiftly behind him. He had previously showered, smelling of saccharine musk but despite that he's having doubts peering into the full-length mirror; unsure of the reflection.

He's pulled away upon hearing the buzzing of his phone; it was you. Even seeing your name in the grey notification bubble sent slight relief to his chest.

Was his hair parted right?

Did he miss a spot shaving?

Was he even worthy of going on a date with you?

Jesus Christ.

He merely hopes to be as presentable as could be, and have you find him simply the slightest bit inviting.

Y/N

I should overdress right, since this is a Kook thing

At least you, weren't backing out at the last second.

Wear as little as possible :)

Y/N

Don't make me change my mind about this, Maybank.

A miniature film camera is stuffed in JJ's tinted black pants. It's digging into his skin deliciously, taking the pain as he knows the payoff will be wondrous. If he'd be lucky enough to get a picture of you or with you tonight.

Parked in the driveway of your home, from the Cut along with the rest of them. Your home is small and cozy and still JJ admires the way your mother hugs you goodbye, something he hadn't gotten to experience growing up.

However, he gets to experience this tonight.

The Twinkie's cracked windshield wasn't exactly the perfect view, but he is still enamored by the hypnotizing way your lacy dress flows from direct wind. It revealed parts of you he had yet to see, as this wasn't your typical wardrobe; more like a disguise to seem Kook like and fit in at the eatery. He pondered on the idea of you going out and buying it, only to go on a date with him.

Just for him.

The feeling had him scatterbrained.

He really can't comprehend your heaven-sent beauty.

Hair pinned back delicately, still as cutthroat as a double-edged sword. And when the door goes flying open, so does his soul from his body. Hell, he might not even be able to drive to the restaurant he's so fucking weak in the knees.

You must've mistaken JJ for some else, the person before you in the driver's seat is so clean cut. Locks brushed to the side, aligning his part. Chest poking through his button up just a breathtaking view in itself. His bright cheeks are painted an astonishing cherry red, as the pastel shaded sky is just about to set it enhances it even more. His achievement of wanting to look pretty for you has more than worked.

It's cynical to the pair that this agonizingly moderate occasion is here.

Long awaited, and worth every minute,

Just to be here, in this captured moment, together.

Fuck.Fuck.Fuck. This is happening. JJ thought, though similar thoughts are rummaging through your mind right now.

You shrugged him off for three years, witnessing this burning lovelorn grin on his face makes you regret wasting so much time. All that time, this beautiful creature could've been yours. Perhaps the odds in that percentage of people that go there seperate ways after high school won't be you and JJ. And maybe, your own independence was overrated.

You were wrong.

Oh so, mistakenly wrong.

"Bab- shit ... can I call you baby ... if that's okay?"

This differentiating pet name was of utter importance to JJ because it's so needy, and it encompasses all of his likened emotions for you in one little word.

"Course, baby."

JJ's shitting himself internally, he didn't know he needed to hear that leave your mouth until now, and he really wishes for you to say it an infinite amount more. All he can do is bore into your gloss lips, wishing to taste them desperately.

Aching for the sensation.

"You look really pretty tonight ... not just tonight though you look pretty all the time. Which explains why m'fuckin' obsessed with you and you're always on my mind. Swear, you're like ... tattooed in my brain and it's-"

You capture his lips with yours, a notion of telling him to shut the hell up, and just be. He was right, they mold together like they were created to enact a sweltering kiss such as this. It's magical to JJ, that he's lingering against your skin, touching your hair, kissing you long enough that he counted it perfectly in his head. A timely kiss, a tradional one, to leave him wanting more.

And he wants more. He wants so much more.

It's all true, if he's doing something as simple as listening to music, he thought about your opinion. If you disliked it, he'd find a way to. Paying attention to details over the years, he's practiced your hobbies, telling himself that he 'felt closer to you'.

He worshiped the fucking ground you walked on.

"You gonna' take me to dinner or what, Maybank?"

"Dinner's cancelled, I need you now, pretty girl."

Guess the food can wait.

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potol0ver · 7 months

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Ask; Hello, I read you have your request open, and I really like how you write about Erik. So, if you feel in the mood, I like some scenario (GN or AFAB) in which y/n starts to work ato Opera House like an skilled effect artist and one night, when y/n finally has some time free and alone, Erik found her playing something like ROxxanne tango with the cello, because she play it but only for herself.

Tags; Fluff, GN reader (you and yours),

A/N; Hey, I’ve been silent for a while and I’m sorry for that. I wasn’t motivated to post any fics and was in writers block. Now I need to focus on my health because a serious health concern has come up for me, so I apologize for continuing to be radio silent. I’m a little out of it while I’m writing this so I’m sorry, Please injoy this fic, it will most likely be the last for a while. (You may continue sending asks just be warned I might not be able to get to it for a couple of reasons.)

With a heavy sigh you put aside your art peice, a stage mask that just wasn’t holding up to your standards. You’ve painted over your dried paint and wiped it off to many times to count already. Your hands had become shaky long ago as you sit at your desk that was in an obscure corner of the Opera house.

You push your chair back that gave a screech and sluggishly walked back to your small room in the Opera house. Thankfully it looks like none of your roommates are in the room which means you can properly relax and wind down. Most importantly in your mind, it means you can practice your cello without disturbing anyone.

Quickly you set up your space, adjusting your chair, setting up your music stand, making sure your bow has enough rosin. Flipping to your favorite cello peice you take a breath and start playing. Letting your fingers and how move on the strings fluently, you we’re getting entranced by your cello. Unknown to you, you weren’t the only one being entranced.

Somewhere deep in the Opera house, the Phantom can hear your playing faintly thanks to the echoing of the monumental walls. Intrigued, Erik quietly yet softly made his way to you until he could hear you clearly. Leaning against a wall he let his eyes shut and get wrapping up in your music, loving where you crescendoed and adding your own flare.

When you got to the end of the piece and pause your playing to find another to play, he finally peeked a look at you. He thought you would’ve been apart if the orchestra, but he didn’t recognize you, it also looked your your cello while well kept, was quite old to. Erik became very fascinated by you now, he started by “testing” you. Slipping new and harder pieces for you to try, and if you did play them he’d be happily surprised with how well you make the notes come to life.

Next, after you passed his “test”, he worked hard to see if he can find you a proper newer cello. Only the best for his new found talent, that day by day he was slowly falling for. The more he became infatuated with you he got more determined to find a cello to match your one of a kind soul.

After a while he did find a very good cello, a one of a kind, just for you. So, Erik made quick work to insure it’s yours. He personally polished and cleaned it, making sure no scratches were on the instrument. While you were working hard at your props job for the play, he made diligent work to set up the present in your new room. That of course was also a present from him. How could he let his musical muse share a room with a bunch of strangers?

Leaning the cello against the bedside table he placed a rose and a note next to it. Despite watching you for so long and being so devoted to you, he never got to the courage to say anything to you. Hopefully the grand presents will be a good first impression.

Groggily you walk back to your room, only to be told you don’t sleep there any more. Which after the long day you had of making props wasn’t good for your anxiety. As you followed the directions to your new room, you think about how you could’ve gotten on the bad side of someone to get an even more run down place to sleep in than what you have already had.

All of those thoughts quickly got washed away when you opened the door to your new room. It had everything you needed to live alone, a small kitchen/living room, a nice bedroom with a decent sized closet, even a space to practice your cello. You were so stunned at what you did to deserve this new room that you didn’t question how everything you own was already there.

Quickly, your eyes caught the sight of the luxurious cello next to your new bed. Gently you caressed it, looking over all of the fine details, it looked like a masterpiece that was specifically catered to you. The red rose next to the cello caught your eye next, along with the letter that had a skull stamp.

Carefully opening the letter you scanned the words, a mixture of your emotions sitting in your stomach as you read.

“My dear, I have heard you playing for a while now, and I must say the way you make the notes come to life is hauntingly stunning. You have caught my interest in the best way.

I know you haven’t seen me or heard me before, which is why I hope your new room and house warming gifts are a good first impression. If you wish, I can also arrange a seat for you in the opera’s orchestra so you don’t have to continue working in the messy arts department.

P.S. If it’s not to much to ask, I would like to hear back from you, so please consider us to be pen pals now. Also, if you ever need a quiet place to practice you can always come to my lair to whine down, maybe that way we can play music together.

~Yours devotedly O.G.”

A single thought ran through your mind as a mixture of unease and swooning butterflies ran through you…

What have you gotten yourself into?

#erik destler #erik poto #phantom of the opera #erik destler x reader #erik x reader #phantom x reader #phantom Drabble #phantom of the opera x reader

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sugareey-makes-stuff · 2 years

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Welp! Today is my birthday, and I’m another year older. It’s crazy to think about how much time has flown by since I joined fandom well over a decade and a half ago and how that has shaped me as a person. But hey, I wouldn’t have it any other way. My past self wouldn’t have thought I would still be making things to this day. But inspiration and motivation needs to come from somewhere, and it’s thanks to all of you lovely fandom folks for being the reason why I still make art, and why I started writing again! If it wasn’t for fandom, I have no idea where I would be. Fandom holds a very special place in my heart because it’s a community where I can be myself and feel at home. The support I’ve received on my many crazy initiatives, and each friendship I’ve made over the years have all been truly special. As a thank you, I’m presenting a throwback rec list of 22 Drarry and rare pairs fics dating back between 2003-2017. Each and every one of these have impacted me in some way, have pulled me through some really difficult times and/or I still love to reread to this day. Maybe these are ones y’all love too, or have yet to read. I’ve added some tags where applicable just in case, since not all of these have extensive AO3 tags. Don’t forget to give these authors some love by leaving kudos and/or comments! [If you do want to see more detailed rec posts for these fics, send the word by commenting or sending a request in my inbox!] Without further ado, here ya go and enjoy!

Drarry

🧁 >>> Waters of March by geoviki (T, 21.6k, 2003)- Canon-Divergence, AU, Post-War, Order of the Phoenix, St. Mungo’s, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, brief mentions of Torture/Violence, London, Coffee Shops, Banter, Getting Together, Alternating PoVs

Summary: Voldemort's final victim resides with the other spell-damaged wizards in St. Mungo's Hospital. Harry suffers survivor's guilt and finds an unusual beta.

🧁 >>> Tip of the Icing by megyal | @megyalwrites (M, 32.6k, 2007)- EWE, Post-war, Pre-DH, Fluff, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Magical AU, various OCs, Baking, Kid!fic, Past Relationships, Mentions of Past Affairs, Jealousy, Banter

Summary: Harry's successful cake/pastry career brings an old nemesis as a new client.

🧁 >>> Small Blessings by oldenuf2nb (M, 37k, 2009)- EWE, Post-war, Adopted Children, Found Family, Dad!Harry, Model!Draco, Pureblood Culture, Expectations, Attempted Kidnapping, Getting Together, Snogging, Humping, Falling in Love, Parenting, various OCs, Alternating PoVs

Summary: After the war, Harry opens an orphanage with the help of a surprising friend. When he adopts an infant left on his doorstep, he has no idea what fate has in store for him.

🧁 >>> Taste of Magic by Romaine | @romaine2424 (M, 10.1k, originally written in 2009)- Auror!Harry, Unspeakable!Draco, Banter, Goblet of Fire, Magic Vanishing, brief mentions of deaths, Drinking, Sex, Muggle World, Bittersweet, Light Angst, Hopeful Ending

Summary: As the world's atmosphere changes, magic starts to disappear. Only a "lucky" few will stay in the magical world until the earth begins to heal.

🧁 >>> Symbiosis by fireflavored (E, 20.2k, 2009)- Post-war, 8th Year, Quidditch, Humour, UST, Flirting, Arrangements, Bullying, Prejudices, Wanking, BJs, Rimming, Sex, Christmas, Getting Together, Happy Ending

Summary: sym·bi·o·sis (sĩm'bē-ō'sĩs) n. Biology A close, prolonged association between two or more different organisms of different species that may, but does not necessarily, benefit each member.

🧁 >>> The Charm Conundrum by dysonrules (M, 8.3k, originally written in 2010)- 8th Year, Awkward Flirting, Humour, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Courting, Misunderstandings, Crushes, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, Banter, Teasing, Sneaking Around at Night, Sex, Happy Ending

Summary: Harry misplaces an interesting "self-help" manual. Draco finds it and discovers some fascinating insights into Harry Potter.

🧁 >>> Sæglópur by femmequixotic | @femmequixotic (M, 34.3k, 2011)- EWE, First Person PoV, Break-up, Affairs, Fuckbuddies, UST, Idiots in Love, Banter, Holiday, Travel, Old Magic, Iceland, Lack of Communication, Feelings, Banter, Public Sex, Jealousy, Meddling Friends, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Back Together

Summary: After a difficult breakup, Draco finds himself dragged to the land of magic, law, and natural wonders where, of course, nothing goes as planned.

🧁 >>> Draco Malfoy, It's Your Lucky Day by faithwood (E ,37.4k, 2012)- 8th Year, Mystery, Enemies to Lovers, Injuries, Felix Felicis, Temporary Memory Loss, Cuddling, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Handjobs, Rimming, Feelings, Curses, Misunderstandings, Deception, Memory Potions, Happy Ending

Summary: Even though he's unarmed, injured, lost in the Forbidden Forest, and facing a possible murder charge, Draco Malfoy gets lucky.

🧁 >>> Phoenix Rising by tuesdaymidnight (M, 25.6k, 2013)- Post-war, EWE, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Permanent Injury, Music, Trauma, Prophecy, Divination, Muggle world, Holidays, Friendships with Gryffindors, past break-up, Feelings, Idiots in Love, Getting Back Together, Song!Fic

Summary: Twelve years after the war, Draco is a successful organ tuner living in London, but he is still burdened by the effects of the war. Dark magic left him with a crippled body and, he sometimes worries, an empty heart. By chance he spots Harry in Muggle London, and the old feelings he once had for him rush back. When mutual friends express concern about Harry, it prompts Draco to seek him out. Draco is surprised but intrigued by Harry's interest in prophecy and seers, and he finds himself falling for Harry all over again. The only problem is figuring out if Harry could possibly return his feelings.

🧁 >>> Falling Stars, Catching Lightning by daftfear | @13pawns (E, 6.6k, 2015)- Post-war, Magical Tattoos, Symbolism, Flirting, Lust, Banter, UST, Sex

Summary: Draco’s talent and skill as a tattoo artist are without equal, but when Potter comes in asking for a custom piece that’ll take several sessions to complete, Draco finds his abilities and professionalism tested.

🧁 >>> Solder by Oakstone730 (E, 34.5k, 2015)- more tags on AO3

Summary: Seven years ago, Harry disappeared out of Draco and Scorpius's life without a trace after Harry's addictions destroyed his and Draco's marriage. Now, Harry’s back, and Draco wants to believe he’s changed. But Harry isn’t the only one haunted by the past.

🧁 >>> (The Piece) I was Missing All Along by lauren3210 (E, 34.5k, 2015)- Post-war, Flashbacks, Best Friends, Feelings, Idiots in Love, Pining, Heartbreak, Sex, UST, Infidelity against an OC, Engagement, Wedding, Confessions, Meddling Friends, Jealousy, Denial, Confrontations, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.

Rare Pairs

🎂 >>> WAGs to Riches by nqdonne (Perciver, E, 8.8k, originally written in 2007)- Non-Magical AU, Reunions, Rugby, Offices, Wooing, Flirting, Getting Together, First Dates, BJs, Sex, Crushes, Fantasies, Humour, Puns

Summary: How the boy Percy had idly daydreamed about in school had ended up one of the country's top rugby players was something Percy left up to bad karma.

🎂 >>> What Pride Doesn’t Know by igrockspock (Perciver, G, 3.7k, 2012)- Getting Together, Coming Out, Canon-Compliant, Misunderstandings, Anxiety, Family, Apologies

Summary: How Percy Weasley came to dance with Oliver Wood at Ginny's wedding is a long story, and he may have forgotten to tell his family a few parts of it -- like how he's gay, and in a relationship with a man.

🎂 >>> A Root So Deep by wook77 (Deamus, E, 13.8k, 2012)- DH Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Roommates, mentions of other relationships/hook-ups, Separation, Travelling, Pining , Snogging, BJs, Sex, Miscommunication, Apologies, Getting Together, Falling in Love

Summary: There is an Irish proverb that states, "when the root is deep, there is no need to fear the wind". Seamus is about to learn how deep the root of his friendship with Dean truly is.

🎂 >>> Willing to Be Proved Wrong (Or, How Percy Weasley Fought the Magic of Christmas and Lost) by Eleos (Perciver, M, 5k, 2014)- HBP, Christimas Eve, Leaky Cauldron, Snogging, Reunions, Awkward Flirting, Conversations, Hook-up, Hopeful Ending

Summary: Percy Weasley didn’t believe in fate. He didn't believe in luck, destiny, or serendipity, and he certainly didn't believe in the magic of Christmas. A surprise encounter with Oliver Wood may just change his mind.

🎂 >>> you had time by mixtapestar | @mixtapestar (Perciver, E, 13.2k, 2015)- Post-war, Future-Fic, Reunions, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Roommates, Friendship, Getting Together, Crushes, Misunderstandings, Light Angst, Snogging, Handjobs, Happy Ending

Summary: Oliver isn’t quite sure what convinces him to go back to the Hog’s Head on the 4th anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. He had never gone to any of the official celebrations that happened over the past few years, but he knows that Aberforth isn’t one for ceremony. Here he can have a quiet drink to commemorate lives lost and to celebrate what was won without anyone making a big show of things. What he isn’t expecting is to run into Percy Weasley at the pub.

🎂 >>> Grazed Knees by montparnasse | @montpahrnah (Linny, T, 5.5k, 2015)- EWE, Post-war, Hogwarts, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Snogging, Anxiety, Nightmares, Reassurances, Growing Up, Hopeful Ending

Summary: The war is over, except that it isn't, and Ginny is done fighting, except that she's not.

🎂 >>> A Little Like This by bansheee (Deamus, M, 5.5k, 2016)- more tags on AO3

Summary: “I wish there was a way to practice first,” Dean commented. “Y’know, before the real thing.” “We could,” Seamus said. “We could practice together.” Dean balked, and Seamus held up his hands. “No, no, hear me out,” Seamus’ cheeks flooded with red and Dean felt like his were just as hot. “Ya don’t want a girl to think you’re a shit snog, because she’ll go tell all the other girls, and then you’ll never get another one.” “But I’m not—” Dean lowered his voice. “You’re my best mate. My best guy mate. I’m not gay.”

🎂 >>> keeping count (losing count) by oliverwvvd | @oliverwvvd (Flintwood, T, 1.2k, 2017)- Kissing, Getting Together, Anxiety, Post-War, Confessions, Falling in Love

Summary: Marcus uses numbers to manage anxiety. He keeps count of their kisses. One day, he slips, and he says the number out loud.

🎂 >>> tied and true by slyther_ing | @mxrcusflint (Flintwood, M, 14.9k, 2017)- AU, Soulmates, Soulbond, Red String of Fate, Pureblood Culture, Expectations, Hogwarts, Enemies to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Feelings, Anxiety, Fear, Quidditch, Hogwarts, Lack of Communication, Misunderstandings, Confessions, Hopeful Ending

Summary: There are two routes of action. Three, if he were really desperate, but Marcus doesn’t think anyone in history has ever successfully dissolved a soulmate thread before without dire consequences and he’s not willing to die over Oliver fucking Wood.

🎂 >>> Terms and Conditions by maraudersaffair | @maraudersaffair (Luna/Pansy/Ginny, E, 7.7k, 2017)- more tags on AO3

Summary: Pansy can't get over super fit Ginny Weasley. Too bad Weasley is now with Loony sodding Lovegood.

#drarry #drarry squad #deamus #perciver #flintwood #linny #luna/pansy/ginny #hp rare pair #hp multi-ship #multiship #hp fanfic #fic recs #rec lists #spicy #happy birthday #sugareey #sugareey recs things

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rheiple · 2 years

Text

╔═══════≪ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ≫═══════╗

…☆↦ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

...☆↦ 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞!

You can call me Nussie or Rei. My pronouns are She/Her and i like arts. I'm into many fandoms, but FNaF is the one I'm currently in! I got into writing a few months ago!

This is @nussiesimps 's second Blog account. I can't log in into my old account for some reason my drafts,,i can't-... and i gave up and decided to make another account.

This blog may contain some dark content since i also post yandere stuff in here. And keep in mind that i only write yandere stuff for fun. I do not support real life yanderes.

Requests are currently closed, I'm busy at the moment however I'll try to be active as I can. If requests are open though, here are things you need to follow before sending in requests.

This is mostly xReaders but there will be occasional Oc x Characters, or Reader x Fnaf!Oc.

☆↦The topics that I'm willing to do:

• Yandere

• Platonic

• Angst

• Fluff

• Poly

• LGBTQ+

• Dark Fics

☆↦The topics that I'm not yet going to do:

• Smut

• Pregnancy

• Anything related to mental illness/disorder

Here below are the list of my works.

☆↦𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

OneShots

• Sweet Dreams Interrupted -Sun,Moon

• The Forbidden Breakfast -[Platonic]-Gregory,Glamrock Freddy

• Baby Steps Freddy, Baby Steps -[Platonic] -Gregory,Glamrock Freddy

• Tea Party At Hell -Eclipse

• He's Super Shy, Super Shy -Moon

• Fascination At First Sight

• Attention Seeker -Eclipse

• Caretakers Of The Spiritual Guardian -[Platonic]

• Is This The Real Life?

• Is This A Fantasy?

• Second Chance

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Drabbles/Imagines

• FazShorts Part 1 -Sun,Moon

• FazShorts Part 2 -Sun,Moon

• Decoration On Her Hair -Roxy

• Why He Mad?

• Why Hate Ourple?

• They just wanna be your favorite -Sun,Moon

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Songfics

[Might be discontinued]

• Gator Love Part 1 - Monty

• Gator Love Part 2

• Gator Love Part 3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

☆↦𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

OneShots

• "What's With The Face?" - Sun

• Avoided By Everyone - Moon

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Drabbles/Imagines

• Bloody Affection -Vanny

• The Worst Part of Him

• Better Than The Other Half -Sun

• Wild Fantasy -Vannessa

• The Better Boyfriends

• The Valentine Gift

• Eternity With Me

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Series

[Might be discontinued]

• A Deadly "Spell - Sun,Moon

↦ Chapter Three

↦ Chapter Two

↦ Chapter One

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

↦ Images are not mine, credits to their rightful owners. I got them from pinterest.

↦ I also do not consent to anyone posting my works in other media platforms, all of my works are only posted on Tumblr and Wattpad, If anyone found my works on other websites or apps other than what I mentioned please report it.

╚═══════≪ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ≫════════╝

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byakuwan · 1 year

Text

writer interview as requested by @hopeswriting

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

10, with 12 more oldies in a private collection. ( i should probably make those public again... )

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

60,429

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

95 kudos: Setting up Senpai (Enstars)

83 kudos: Your Darling (Darlifra [E]

81 kudos: Summer Triangle (Enstars)

71 kudos: Cinnamon Spice (Darlifra)

67 kudos: Freedom within Dependence (Enstars) [E]

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i used to not respond, but i don't think there was a reason? i do now though. i value all comments so so so much and have to express it somehow!!!

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

i'm pretty sure it's one of the twewy ones? i remember Paradise (TWEWY OCs) and/or No Last Words (TWEWY + DMMD) were really sad but i remember next to nothing about anything i wrote before i was in the enstars fandom in 2019 lmao. so no promises on those.

i am Horrible with writing sad endings these days, so i generally end up not writing them anymore RIP. i apologize bc it's hard to even read them without having the urge to make a happily-ever-after in my head OTL

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

oh hands-down Setting up Senpai -> Summer Triangle. those two together were a reimugi origin story that i have heard from multiple different people they based their understanding of the ship on. it's unfortunate bc i did not know how to write rei at all so i'm still hesitant to reread it.

however, that's where you can first find my habit of ship or character manifestos begin.

7. Do you write crossovers?

not really? i think about them a lot, though. like... a lot.

i'm more of an RPer at heart, so most of my crossovers are through RP. shout-out to the dreamwidth RP where i wrote byakuran having a deep conversation with an azula where they talked about being 'monsters.' it was Fascinating.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

i don't think so? it was definitely just on RP. i have heard so many tales of "mary sues" and fem OCs getting hate though.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yes....... mostly ends up consensual stuff but with really wild kinks or situations. you can ask but no promises lmao

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

no, but i have had some of my OC art / lowkey designs stolen? which is honestly flattering to me idk. probably bc i thrive off of having my creative stuff seen and enjoyed. (i don't get all that many comments in general so idk.)

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

i think one of the darlifra ones was?

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes, an enstars one that i consistently forget about for some reason?

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

... :') i'll get back to you on this one. (what are decisions?)

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Lost at the Crossroad. another manifesto of why reikei is not always as light-hearted as i think it seems.

i can't bring myself to finish it for a ton of reasons... namely that it ended up my first NOTP in forever as i was writing it...

15. What are your writing strengths?

dialogue and flow according to others. plot according to me.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

motivation. if i don't throw progress at cheerleaders and get encouragement i struggle to maintain interest in writing much of anything.

that's also why i did a lot of gift fic, but one of them... went over very poorly last year, so i'm not super sure if i want to go back to doing that.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i... don't have the opportunity to and i'm OK with that. formally knowing JP may or may not be very useful on ao3. i wouldn't know. maybe romaji?

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

hmmm. naruto OCs, i think? back in 2005 when i was a tiny beginner in fandom.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

most of my all100 agenda LOL. tsuna and spanner come to mind but i have no faith i'd be able to write tsuna so. it also doesn't help that i usually like having my hand held when writing new characters i'm not familiar with.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

well. if On Cloud Nine existed anywhere but wattpad, i'm still passionate about that one. i literally have a whole almost 20 chapter plan for it and... i feel like continuing someday, but maybe after darlifra gets a new season lol.

Bonus facts for no reason!

i have to imagine my own validation for the most part and generally have no idea what anyone thinks, ever... i'm trying my best to combat the resulting social anxiety, but it's hard. think of it like being seen without knowing why people are looking in the first place. positive, neutral, negative? if i don't know anything, it scares me.

(having a queue helps a lot because i don't have to look at all and there are things being posted anyway.)

rest assured that every single reply, comment, tag, reblog and/or like means the world. if i am shown somehow that someone enjoys a thing i made, i will Thrive for like. a week. it's just weird if i send 'thank you for the like/reblog!' but i definitely think that.

in any case? y'all are so appreciated. thank u for following me and liking whatever brain rot i have on any given day. 🙏💝💖💞 please accept my love. YOU'RE THE BEST

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itjazzbicch · 2 years

Text

No Brainer

Pairing: MJF x Fem Reader Summary: Based this fic off a prompt I saw online:

"You may have walked her home, but I'm the reason why she was walking funny." Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY!) (Rough sex, unprotected sex, choking, slight degradtion, swearing) Requested by: No one (But I hope you all enjoy!) Word Count: 3428 Tag List: @demonqueen29 @peachy-satan00 @new-zealand-chic @crowleysqueenofhell @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @thatpanpal @hungmanhorsecarriage @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @linziland13 @xxx-jazz-xxx @writtingrose @whenimakeitshine1234 I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF:

“I’m so glad that you could come out tonight,” Brian smiled bright, a pretty smile on his face, but my eyes couldn’t help but look over his shoulder. When I accepted his invitation to come out with some friends tonight, this was the last thing I expected to happen. Don’t get me wrong, Brian was truly a nice guy but there was another man in my life who always caught my attention, my eyes unable to look away when MJF walked through the door. It always fascinated me how even in a crowded place, our gazes locked and Max, he could never control his facial expressions, clearly not a fan of Brian being next to me. I quickly played it off, smiling to Brian: “Couldn’t pass up the opportunity.” The atmosphere changed all around me and no matter what I tried to do, who I talked to, my eyes kept drifting and landing right on Max. I was afraid that it was a little too obvious, but I couldn’t control it, grabbing my drink and taking a bigger sip of it, feeling my phone vibrate: [Him? Really?] Of course, Max wouldn’t make it any easier, straight up texting me and making his disapproval known. If that wasn’t enough, when I glanced over the crowd in the club, it was easy to spot Max, looking up front his phone, not trying to make direct eye contact, but I knew he was watching. When I turned, I noticed Brian was chatting with the group of friends that tagged along, looking to my phone to see another text: [How much longer are you gonna stay over there with those losers?] Max had me down to my last straw already, having me turn to Brian, patting his hand: “Hey, I’m gonna run to the ladies room.” “Alright,” He smiled, “I’ll be right here when you come back.” Whenever I stood up, looking in Max’s direction, it was like he read my mind and headed toward the bathrooms. It was a good thing I actually didn’t have to go, the line was ridiculously long and as soon as I turned the corner, out of everyone’s sight, I felt someone take my hand. I instantly squealed when Max took my hand, pulling me into his arms and pulled me into a room, tongue about down my throat when he kissed me into the closing door. “You dressed up all sexy for me?” He kissed, biting my lower lip with his hands sliding up my dress. “I didn’t even know you’d be here,” I chuckled, “But now that you are-“ “Don’t you lie,” He interrupted, feeling all over my ass and taking two handfuls. “You only dress up like this for me.” “Maybe you were on my mind when I was picking out my outfit,” I toyed, rolling my tongue into our kiss then humming at the feeling of his fingers between my thighs, teasing my already soaked cunt. “Must have been with you being this wet already,” He loved, teasing some more and I dished that right back, grinding against his bulge: “Don’t act like I don’t get you worked up easy. You’re as hard as a rock right now.” “Just for that,” He growled, pulling my panties to the side then freeing his cock from his pants, “I’m going to return you to those loser in a complete mess.” “You think you’re going to mess me up?” “Think?” He snickered, turning me around, pressing my head into the door, growling in my ear, “I will.” “Won’t believe it till-“ I tried to snap back, but whined hard at his cock splitting me wide, needing to reposition myself because of my heels, back arching slightly when my hips couldn’t help but roll back toward him. “Aww, you wanna throw it back for me?” His hand planted firm on my ass, perking up with a moan at the feeling, rocking back to see what it would earn me, turning my head to smile: “You know you enjoy the view every time.” My jaw dropped when he yanked my head back by the roots of my hair, spanking me into a rough thrust, feeding me every inch of his cock and slamming right into my sweet spot. “And you just enjoy being a dirty little bitch, huh?” He spat, making sure I’d respond with moans rather than words, sweet spot being pummeled so hard that I started to slip in my heels. I slapped the door hard when I was yanked back into place by hair, the burn in my legs creating uncontrollable jerks, the tightness in

my core making my back arch harder, biting my lip and blurting out: “F-F-Fucking christ, Max!” “You thought I was playing when I said I was going to mess you up?” He pressed against the door, pulling my head back further to kiss me hard, bites along my jaw up to my ear, hips pinned to my ass and reverting back his beastly roughness and speed, “Hope you have fun trying to walk in those heels when I’m done.” “Max, just-“ I nearly cried, the coil in my core so tight I was ready to hunch over, but his cock kept fucking me straight into the door. “Max just, what?” He mocked, handle traveling around to my throat, his other finding my clit and rolling it between two fingers, having me whining even harder and louder, body trying to curl from the overloaded nerves and his cock thrust me up again. “Just make me cum already, fuck!” I cried, the burning nerves pushing me to a few tears, now on spaghetti legs. “What are you waiting for?” A groan rumbled in his chest, full force in his hips, having me scream when I felt all of his cock go up and smack my cervix, “Am I not fucking you good enough, huh?!” “You are! I’m cuming, Max! Oh dear go-“ The air in my lungs was stolen from me, eyes shut tight and seeing flashing lights and drunk off the feeling of cuming so hard, thighs soaked, whole body covered in goosebumps and quivering. There were chuckles in his pants, looking in the corner of my eye to find his sinful smirk, admiring the mess he made of me, till our attention was diverted to the noise of vibrating. I had put my phone in my bra, pulling it out to see Brian messaging me. “That fucking loser,” Max’s eyes rolled with annoyance, mine no better when I sighed: “Looks like you and I have to split for the night.” “Only thing split here is you,” He joked, spanking me softly. That did earn a small laugh from me, trying to hide the struggle of standing when I fixed my panties and dress, fixing my hair down with my hands, learning how much of a mess I truly was. “When that loser’s finally gone,” Max kissed on my cheek, “You’ll know where to find me.” Max went ahead and walked out then my turn came and it was a challenge. My legs were shaking so bad, feet aching from standing in heels and taking that round like I did, fighting through whines, aches, I was nearly panting by the time I made it back to my group with Brian. “Hey you good?” Brian turned to find me, obviously curious as to what took me so long. “That line in the ladies room was insane,” I huffed, sitting for a moment, having to ignore the slight ache between my thighs “My feet are killing me from these heels.” “Just sit for a bit and relax them,” Brian tried to comfort me, but the longer I sat there, the more it felt like my body was going to break down on me. “I really hate to do this, but I’m not feeling so hot. I think I’m going to head home,” I sighed, looking at the time and getting ready to stand till Brian placed his hand on top of mine: “You walked here so let me walk you back. It’s getting late and I don’t want you going alone.” I did appreciate his kindness, but I was trying to get away from him! Something in me couldn’t turn it down, nodding to him and quickly standing up to get out of there. The walk back to my townhouse wasn’t a long one, but it felt like the longest walk I’ve ever taken. Walking slow didn’t help, a quicker pace made it worse, the shaking was still so bad and hard to hide; I even stumbled a little. “Man those heels did a number on you, huh?” Brian noticed, chuckling a little when he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, keeping me close and still. “Heels can be either your best friend or your worst enemy,” I laughed trying to play it all off, Brian even laughing along: “Seems like they’re your enemy tonight.” The sight of my front door was the biggest relief, heading up the few stairs to put the key in: “Thank you for walking me back home, Brian. I appreciate it.” “Never a problem,” He smiled, taking the first two steps, “You go ahead and take care of yourself and get some sleep.” My heart stopped in my chest when I

noticed his body language, a kiss heading my way, but I quickly moved my head and kissed his cheek just to deny a full blown kiss the best I could, quietly cooing: “Goodnight, Brian.” I tried to make it look casual, but I about bolted into my house, back against the door when I locked it, taking a few deep breaths and feeling my phone again. [You left? Surprised you even made it out tbh] Max was always such a smart ass and with my anxious racing heart, I simply replied: [Fuck you, Max] [Um, already did. That’s why you couldn’t walk] [I can’t with you] I got a small kick from his comeback, but I was ready to call it a night. Thankful that I had the night and a whole day to rest till it was time for Rampage. ---- When it was time for Rampage, I had only talked to Max a few times during that free day, Brian not even crossing my mind really. I had a big match up and I was focused on that more than anything. I’d been dying to get my hands on Leyla Hirsch and on Rampage, I got exactly what I wanted and then some. Right after picking up the victory, I hadn’t felt so good, but needing a drink. So, I swung past catering while heading backstage, taking a water and a small snack, ready to head to the locker room till I heard: “Y/N! You killed it out there!” Brian had the brightest smile on his face and came over to hug me. I didn’t mind giving him a small hug, in disbelief when I noticed I was caught in the same situation. Max walked right in when my head was over Brian’s shoulder and when our eyes clicked, he was not happy. Max could always play it off like nothing, but I could just see it in his eyes. I had never gotten so nervous when Brian looked back to see what I was staring at, Max head turning in a flash but Brian noticed. My heart was pounding, the tension between them rising because it was quite obvious that they didn’t like one another. Max could feel Brian staring and Brian could just tell Max was looking in our direction. “Is there are problem here?” Max scoffed, hand on his hip after fixing his scarf, “I know you’re staring at me.” “You know, I noticed the same thing at the club,” Brian pointed out and my heart instantly dropped, frozen in time when Brian walked right up to Max, “You are just always eyeballing her, but let me break you the bad news, Maxy. An amazing girl like Y/N would never fall for you.” Brian had a different idea in mind, but Max was ready to break even more devastating news, laughing at Brian: “Oh yeah? Let me tell you something Bry-guy-“ No one never knew what slick comment would comment would come out of Max’s mouth but every knew it was going to be something rude and brutal, his words more brutal than anything when Max got right in Brian’s face and smirked: “You may have walked her home that night, but I’m the reason why she was walking funny.” I was sure my jaw was on the floor. I had never seen Brian so pissed, going nose to nose with Max: “The nerve of your rude ass.” All the guys in catering began to split them up and of course, Max had to add to it: “Wanna see the messages? I’ve been tapping that ass for a minute, jabroni!” With Brian’s back turned, I left. Shock wasn’t the word to describe how I was feeling. Before anyone could notice or spot me, I slipped into my locker room so I could freak out in peace; that piece not lasting very long with knocking on my door shortly after. “I can’t believe that you just said that,” I gasped when I found Max and he found it hysterical: “Did you see his face?! Fucking funny as hell!” He truly found it hilarious, walking laughing and I wanted to be mad, but I couldn’t. Something so contagious about Max that made my innocence disappear. My silence appeared to be concerning, Max turning to me and sighing: “Okay, you’re upset? Go on, tell me how I shouldn’t have done that, how-“ He was too quick to assume that I was upset and was stunned when I cooed: “What is it about you that drives me crazy?” I took him by the face, kissing him hard and his body took a moment to respond, but he melted right in, smiling and

chuckling: “Giving you all that dick has you wanting me more hm?” “Mhm,” I hummed, kissing him more, “And I won’t lie, I’m happy that you got him to fuck off.” That made him laugh a little, voice growing a bit deep when he kissed: “He’s just mad because I’m the one fucking you.” “Don’t want it to be anyone else,” I kissed back and like always, giving into my temptations, “Want to piss him off more? I’m sure he’ll come around so lets give him something to hear.” “If you want me to fuck your brains out again, that’s all you have to say,” He toyed, needing to be fired up a little more, so that’s exactly what I did. I got to return the favor from the night at the club, pushing him up against the door, kiss full of tongue, knee rising between his thighs and nuzzling his bulge, biting his lower lip: “You know, one of these days you’re going to be the one who gets messed up.” “Is that right?” He laughed, taking my bottoms by the sides and raising them up even higher to reveal my ass, spanking me hard and growling, “Better watch who you’re talking to like that.” “Awe does that make you feel less manly or something?” I kept messing with, “What are you going to do about it?” “I see what you’re doing,” He pointed out, then shrugging his shoulder, “I’m still going to put you in your place.” I squealed at another strong spank, being pulled to the couch by my bottoms, Max basically ripping them off of me then throwing me to the couch: “Hope you have extra gear.” He always found a way to make it all about himself and his dominance, my top being ripped off, the wind from his body chilly, making my nipples harden and I was ready to drool while watch him strip out of his suit. “Look at you,” Max breathed deep, hand latching around my throat with a grip, “Don’t even have anything to-“ “Thought you were going to fuck my brains out? Not talk,” I whispered, smiling when he squeezed harder, eyes already rolling when his cocked slammed right into me, balls deep and hitting my deepest point. I wanted to moan, but his grip wouldn’t allow me to properly, air stuck in my chest and making me a bit light headed. “You want your brains fucked out, huh?” He growled, grip not loosening even while quickening his hips, cock bottoming me out every other thrust, “Gonna rearrange your insides while I’m at it!” “M-Max,” I got out with a raspy moan, a smile still on my face when my eyes closed, taking the time to enjoy the pleasure meanwhile my lightheadedness grew, but he wanted me to feel every bit, letting go and hold me by the jaw and chin. “Can’t handle a little roughness, Y/N?” He laughed, but bit his lip and worked even harder when I shook my head, sinfully moaning: “That’s how I like it, baby! That’s how I fucking like it!” “And for some reason, I give you what you want,” His head shook with a chuckle, hips still thrusting and rolling quicker than ever, not second thoughts of slowing down, only wanting more when we both felt my walls tighten around him like a glove, pulsating along with my body trying to curl. “Fuck me up, again Max! I’m soooo c-close,” I about choked, hips beginning to buckle and jerk, words trying to form just for them to end up being wicked moans and babbles, unable to think with so much pleasure taking over my being. “I don’t know,” He teased, slowing down just a little, “I haven’t forgotten about those smart ass comments of yours.” “You’re one to talk!” I whined, “Please, Max! I know you can feel it.” “You’re so fucking lucky I like that feeling,” He huffed, reverting back to his fast pace, making it more wicked than before, a few of those thrusts sending me spiraling and twirling me undone. My hands shot up to grab the back of the couch, back arching hard, gushing all around him and making me whine sharply: “Max, oh my god aah!” “Got fuc-“ He began, biting his lip hard, having to pull out quick and shooting all over my chest, still laughing at me despite his panting, cock sliding between my breasts when my body went limp, sliding off the couch a little. “Oh no,” He played, “Think I actually did

fuck your brains out!” I didn’t even bother to play along, nodding my head seriously, “I’m sure no one on this earth can fuck me that damn good.” “Well duh,” He scoffed playfully, leaning down to kiss me, “It’s a no brainer.”

#wrestling #wrestling imagine #wrestling fic #wrestling smut #wrestling oneshot #aew #aew imagine #aew fic #aew smut #aew oneshot #MJF #MJF x reader #MJF imagine #MJF fic #MJF smut #MJF oneshot #read and enjoy

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carlosfruitsnacks · 2 years

Note

CanI request a fic where Carlos is jealous?

Like, (if you’d like a plot): he likes reader and reader likes him (it’s obvious to everyone but them) and one day reader has a bunch of chores with Camilo and he get’s mad jealous abt it! (May we have a kiss too maybe?)

But if you thought of smth else I’d love to read that as well!

"Hey hey Jealousy"

summary:

— Carlos never considered himself to be the type to get jealous but when you entered his life unannounced he was proven wrong. He almost thought you were purposely giving him a hard time by making him irk whenever you're with someone that is not him. Carlos was at his limit when you're hanging out with someone with the same face as his.

genre:

— fluff

notes:

— gender-neutral reader. I do not speak fluent Spanish and all of the Spanish here is translated from google, feel free to correct me if I got something wrong though I will refrain from using too much Spanish.

warning/s:

— blood & minor injury

I hope you enjoy this one, anon <3

Carlos Madrigal thought he was satisfied with the way he lives his life. A menace to the town and the master of pranks, it felt as though the world is in the palm of his hand and nobody can stop him. That is when you showed up without a warning, recently moved to Encanto from another town. He does not dare to say he was curious of you from the start. Then one day you offered him a smile and it felt like he was staring directly at the sun, he liked the feeling though, not that he'd admit it. And before he knew it, you single-handily ended his whole career with one smile.

The boy would kill to get you to look his way and smile again. He stayed up all night orchestrating a plan to get your attention. The first time Carlos did it, his plan worked. You looked his way and smiled, you greeted him and even offered him a free snack. It felt like he was the luckiest man in the world. With lidded eyes, he watched you from afar, the content of seeing you live your life. Carlos knew he had some sort of fascination with you but it was one cool evening when he laid in bed and thought to himself.

Holy fuck, am I falling in love?

Of course, he'd deny it. However, the more you noticed him and gave him a fraction of your attention, the more he craved to be near you at all times. To be the reason for your smiles and happiness. Carlos wanted to be your everything, okay, maybe he's being too dramatic. And that alone is evidence that he was indeed head over heels in love with you.

But then all of his glory days were over when he saw you giggling with someone else, Carlos was in such a good mood and immediately it turned into a 180 because you were offering your smiles to somebody else. He thinks about punching the person in the face but then he thought that you wouldn't like that. Carlos was basically helpless, scowling at the person you were conversing with while thinking of ways to regain your attention. Consider that person blessed because he couldn't lay a hand on them. Carlos thought it was the first and last time that would occur, but boy was he wrong.

Carlos was prepared to throw hands when you were surrounded by several people, all of them fighting for your attention. He never predicted this would happen, he wished that he could've at least asked his tío Bruno for a vision so he could avoid this all from happening. Carlos took that thought in mind and created a plan to get rid of those pesky people feeding off of your smiles and laughter.

Around noon, you were having lunch by yourself when Carlos approached the same people that you interacted with earlier. He gave them a threat that if they kept hogging all of your attention he'll have to put them in their place. At first, they didn't believe him but then Carlos looked straight into their eyes as he took out his pocket knife and let it shine under the sunlight. Easily, each of them backed out in defeat and said a string of promises to not disturb you again.

Pleased with the results, Carlos practically skipped his way to you and teased you with a smile. You didn't mind his antics as you spent the rest of the day with him. By dinnertime, the Madrigals noticed Carlos being more...happy? It was an odd sight seeing him not cranky or scowling for the rest of the evening. Meanwhile, you were a blushing mess while screaming against your pillow.

"¡Dios mío, es tan guapo!"

You exclaim then proceeded to repeatedly smack your pillow and cover your face with your hands. Carlos' face has been in your mind all day and it was driving you mad, it was not healthy to think about someone to that extent.

"Oye, [Name]! Will you keep it down there someone is trying to sleep!"

Your sibling's muffled voice from the other side of the wall complained, you rolled your eyes and finally went to bed with a smile.

Carlos woke up with a smile. The Madrigals believed they were hallucinating when they noticed him humming joyfully to himself while pouring a cup of coffee. His older sister approached him out of curiosity.

"For a pessimist, you're quite optimistic today, hermano"

Dolores told him. Carlos dismissed her with a shrug and swiftly exited the house, Dolores raised a brow then heard Camilo scoffing.

"That idiot is in love, hermana"

He said. And all of a sudden, everything made sense! The news spread like wildfire in the Madrigal household. Pepa was squealing and clapping her hands with a rainbow above her head. Isabela and Mirabel could hardly believe it. Julieta and Bruno were fairly happy for Carlos. And Abuela told them to leave Carlos be. Camilo was the first to notice the sudden change of his twin's behavior, he was clever enough to discover that you were the reason. For all the times Carlos had caused him hell, he decided to get revenge by using you against him.

Carlos was basically giving the town a break from his pranks, they should consider you a savior at this point. He finds you walking by and he zooms by your side.

"Hola cariño"

He greets you slyly and ruffles your hair. You laugh and roll your eyes playfully at him.

"Hola, Carlos. How are you today?"

I'm so glad to be alive because you exist

"Meh, pretty good, I guess"

He replies with hands inside his pockets. He decides to follow you around town for a while. You were internally screaming because Carlos looks so attractive today.

"Say, Carlos do you wanna accompany me on my chores today?"

I will follow you to hell if you asked me to

"Sure, disrupting you from doing chores sounds fun"

Carlos thought this day couldn't get better until you smiled at him. His chest tightened with delight and his legs grew weak. Dios mio, your brightness is going to be the death of him.

"Great! Let's go then!"

You say. He bit his lip to prevent a large smile from appearing on his face. It's what Carlos has been dreaming of, you and him, alone together, with Camilo...wait a minute.

To his horror, Carlos sees his twin brother standing in front of your house. Camilo has this mischievous grin on his face, akin to his, and he was crossing his arms and giving him a look that screamed chaos. Carlos was baffled, then the rage comes kicking in. He was about to go attack his brother until you cut him off.

"Camilo! I'm glad you can make it! Hope you don't mind me inviting Carlos?"

Camilo's grin morphs into a sunny smile then comes closer to you, he places a hand on your shoulder. How dare he! Carlos watched with disgust.

"Oh I wouldn't mind mi hermano, though I think we can handle this by ourselves"

"Oh, um, okay?"

Camilo leads you to your courtyard to start, he casts a glance at Carlos and it was the look of pure evil. He needs to save you from that bastard! Carlos could've tolerated anybody else with you but you were now with someone who's not him but sharing the same face as he. It was the last straw, he needed to act now.

You and Camilo begin cleaning around the courtyard. You were grateful to have a helping hand today. As you sweep the leaves and debris, you were oblivious to the twins locking eyes and having a telepathic argument.

Camilo was also sweeping while he has this unceasing grin on his face and looking at his twin.

Ha, what a loser

Carlos was leaning against a tree, his hands turned into fists, knuckles turning white.

I'm going to destroy you

Camilo scoffs.

I dare you

Carlos' eyes were gleaming like fire and he begins walking towards his twin. He raises his hand then you enter the scene, not knowing you have stopped him from punching his twin.

"Hey, Camilo? Can you please lift that huge flowerpot over there?"

You ask. Camilo nods then get to it. You turn to Carlos and he was sweating while he looked at you.

"Are you alright, Carlos? You're sweating so much! Want me to get you a drink?"

"Su-sure"

You set your broom aside and went inside your house to fetch him a cool beverage. For a moment, Carlos was stunned by the way you were so caring for him, you were just so perfect and nice and-no! He mustn't get distracted! He needs to destroy his twin. Carlos' dreamy expression turns into a deadly glare. Camilo was aware that his plan to make his twin jealous was working, he has never seen him beyond frustrated in his entire life, it was sheer entertainment!

"Oye te pedazo de mierda"

He hissed with venom. Camilo turns around and feigned the look of innocence with a flutter of his eyelashes. Carlos raised his fist and-

"Uh, Carlos? What are you doing?"

He whips his head to see you tilt your head while carrying a tray of mango juice and some arepas. Carlos immediately withdraws his fist and acted like he wasn't about to knock the living daylights out of Camilo.

"Nothing"

He replies, nervously. You pay no mind to it and gave him a cup of mango juice. You also hand one to Camilo and you began eating your arepa. Carlos drinks the juice in one gulp then wipes his lips furiously, he gripped the empty glass firmly because you were talking to his twin.

Camilo casually talks to you while watching Carlos lose it at the corner of his eye, he looked like an absolute idiot glaring at him and wishing it was him at his place. He decides to do the final phase of his plan.

"By the way [Name], are you dating anyone?"

You look at Camilo with bewilderment. Carlos felt like he was watching the world crumble before his eyes, his breath hitched and his hands quaked.

"Um, no"

You told Camilo. He laughs softly then reached his hand to your face to wipe the stray food stain on your cheek, you glance at him with a sparkle in your eyes. Carlos could feel his heartbeat coming to a stop, his blood turned cold as he stood helpless and still fuming, watching his own brother make you swoon.

"Well, if you're looking for someone I'm-"

A sound of glass breaking catches your attention, you looked away then gasped at Carlos. He has accidentally broken the cup by gripping it too tightly. Smithereens of the glass landed on the ground with a few specks of blood. Carlos was too hurt to see you with Camilo to realize the pain in his hand. You run to him with worry.

"Carlos! What happened?"

He couldn't say a thing as you take him inside your house and swiftly started treating his bleeding wound. Carlos sits soundlessly as you wrap his hand with a clean bandaid. His nerves calm down and with a bite of his lip, he sighs through his nose.

"Don't..."

You stop then raised a brow at him, he avoids your gaze.

"Please don't..."

"Huh? Don't what, Carlos?"

For fuck's sake just say it!

Carlos holds his breath and with his free hand he grabs your arm, he meets you in the eye.

"Please don't go out with Camilo!"

He shouts then shuts his eyes, afraid that you'll say otherwise or that you have already feelings for his brother. Unexpectedly, you let out a wheeze and a hearty laugh. Carlos eyed you with puzzlement.

"No, silly! I don't have a crush on your brother"

You say between laughs. Carlos thanked the gods above as he felt the immense weight in his chest decrease.

"I like somebody else"

Carlos can feel the weight return and he prevents his lip from quivering. As he was thinking about the possible people you have feelings for, you gently leaned and gave him a kiss on his cheek. Carlos flinched then looked at you with surprise. Suddenly, all of his greatest fears were banished away, his worries were gone and the total amount of ache from his wound and chest leaves.

"I like you, Carlo-mmph!"

Your breath gets knocked away when Carlos reached in and collided his lips with yours, it felt like your heart was about to explode to bits. Your eyes fluttered close as you wrapped your arms around his neck then pulled him closer, returning the tender kiss.

"Ew, can you two get a room"

Both of your eyes shot wide open as you pulled away from each other, faces equally flustered. Camilo looked at the two of you with amusement.

"I guess it only takes a dose of jealousy to get you to confess, hermano"

Camilo smirks, grabs a free snack then leaves the scene like a boss. Carlos was conflicted if he wanted to punch his twin or thank him.

"Wait, you were jealous?"

You ask, a laugh slowly coming out. Carlos faces away, unable to utter a word. You took his sudden silence as a yes, you began to cackle.

"Dios mio, you are!"

"Am not!"

"Yes, you are!"

"Don't make me kiss you, again [Name]"

Carlos softly threatened. You grab his chin and place a kiss on his temple.

"I don't mind if you're jealous, amor"

And just like that, he melts, his entire body felt like jelly as you trap him in an embrace. Carlos thought that being the jealous kind wasn't so bad.

masterlist

#encanto #disney encanto #encanto fanfic #encanto fanfiction #encanto fluff #carlos madrigal #carlos madrigal x reader #carlos my beloved #jay's fanfics™️#jay's fluff fics™️

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proserpina-magnus · 3 years

Note

Hiii it’s me, the regulus simp again- back with another Regulus x fem!reader requestt where the reader has always wanted to play the piano, and the slytherin common room just happens to have one and Regulus just happens to know how to play the piano and she hears him playing so she comes to listen and she has synesthesia so she describes to him what she sees (like colors etc) andd maybe some ultra fluff where he tries to teach her to play it💖💖✨✨ also hope your day is going well and you’re drinking water and getting enough vitamin D because you’re important <3

I LOVED WRITING THIS, IT WAS SO CUTE. LITERALLY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING THIS ( it made me feel better after writing the angst fic ). Also, I hope you are eating and staying healthy and safe! xoxo.

One where he teaches you how to play the Piano

Word count: 2619

[ Warning: fem!reader, fluff, strangers to lovers, first kiss, some sexual tension (not really though), hand holding, petnames such as “love” and “pretty lady/girl” ]

You pressed your ear to the door, hearing the angelic music come from the piano in the Slytherin common room. You tried your best to stay away, but you somehow always made your way to listen outside the door.

The person who played always came to the piano after supper on Wednesday nights, occasionally they would come to play on the weekends as well. You never caught a glimpse of the person, you always ran off before they noticed you were there.

Here you were, ear pressing so close to the slightly opened room as you listened to the sweetest melody you have ever heard. Your brain fogged with clarity, it felt like paradise.

A smile tugged on your face, but it quickly fell when the door leaned forward and you came tumbling into the almost empty common room.

The walls were made of bricks, making you wonder what it would feel like to slide your fingers along the creases. Your knees hit the floor, hands extended as you hear a slight cracking noise. You cringe at this simple scenario you have fallen into, how could you have possibly been so naive and fall right through the door?

The piano came to a stop when you fell, the musician taking a look towards the intruder. You stare at the ground with wide eyes, feeling too embarrassed to look up at them.

"Are you alright?" His voice was deep and delicate, much how you imagined it would sound. You look up, realizing his voice wasn't the only thing delicate about him. His face was shaped like a god, high cheekbones with thinning plain lips. You took a moment to stare at his beauty, never knowing a person could look so lovely.

"Excuse me?" He repeated himself, standing from the oak bench. His hand came into view, you took his long fingers into yours, feeling him pull you up. His hand was cold to the touch, but it only reminded you of the snowy owls you see flying.

"I'm sorry, it's just you play the piano so well, I guess I got distracted and fell... through the door," you explained, embarrassed. You took your hand from his, looking around the space accompanying you both. Everyone was out for a Hogsmeade trip, but you had stayed because you heard the piano.

"Oh," he responded, you look back up towards him, noticing his taller height. You looked over his outfit, seeing his well-tailored fit. His shoes were sparkling, making you look at your own dusted ones.

"Do you play the piano?" The musician asked, trying to get you to stay and talk for a few more minutes. You looked back up, shaking your head sadly.

"I wish, I just never gotten the opportunity to learn," you tell him, looking towards the piano left unoccupied. He watched you, making you look up towards him.

"What is your name?" He asked, taking a step back to give you some room. You fiddled with your skirt.

" [ name ] [ last name ], and you?" You asked, your eyes continuing to look towards the empty piano. He followed your gaze, a small smile on his lips.

"I'm Regulus Black, would you like me to teach you how to play the piano?" Regulus asked, tilting his body to invite you towards the piano. You instantly took a step with him, both of you walking towards the bench. He sat first, patting the spot beside him.

"Will you?" You asked, an excited tone in your voice. He patted the seat again, giving you another small smile.

" Of course, I always have time for a pretty lady," Regulus replied, his words making your stomach flutter. You sank down onto the oak bench, your eyes never leaving his.

"I'm a complete amateur, I don't even know the chords," You reason with him, blinking your eyes as you look towards the piano keys.

"That's alright, we all start somewhere," Regulus says, his fingers placing themselves against the white keys, pressing them together to make an angelic sound. You're reminded of a viridian green from the nice tone.

"Here, place your fingers against these keys," Regulus explains, letting you raise your hands before taking your fingers and placing them against the keys. You eagerly press the key, a sage green colour filling your mind.

Regulus watched you with tender eyes, seeing as you got so fascinated with the small chord. You instantly pressed another one, trying to follow the same melodies he had showed you.

Your spine tingled when a horrible chord was pressed, making the melody remind you of the colour cinnamon brown. You scrunched your shoulders, pulling your fingers back.

"Hey, you've almost got it and I haven't even taught you yet, don't give up now," Regulus effused, his fingers gently grabbing yours as he placed them back over the keys.

He dragged your fingers through keys, playing the melody through you. You’re reminded of the viridian green again, seeing new colours flash through with each key being played.

"Your turn now," Regulus says, his fingers rest over yours for a while longer than normal, before tearing them away to place them on his knees. You give him a look, only being met with a comfortable expression.

You tap the keys slowly, remembering the colours and placements. Before you know it, you've completed a slowed version of the melody. Your heart jumps, excited to get it right.

"Yes, that's good! Your learning quicker than I thought, are you sure you've never played before?" He asked, leaning his head to the side. You watched his hair tilt with his head, gentle curls framing his face. You snap out of it, answering his question.

"I see colours, with each note. It's hard to explain, but when I hear things I get reminded of objects or colours, does that make sense?" You ask, feeling slightly exposed to admit your thought process. Regulus pressed his lips together, analyzing you. You feel stupid, but that feeling flows away with his next words.

"You have synesthesia?" Regulus concluded, but he asked it more like a question. You nodded your head, a small smile on your face.

"Yeah. You're familiar with the term?" You asked him, tilting your head back to the piano. Regulus kept looking at you, interpreting his final thoughts. Nothing terrible could ever possibly come from a person like her, Regulus concluded.

“I am. I heard a Professor mention it once, always stuck with me after,” Regulus explained, just as he finished talking, someone walked into the common room. You both turned your head to look, not realizing you had been infatuated with his eyes.

“Am I interrupting something?” The Slytherin teased, his eyes switching between the two of you in a suggested way. You turn your head slightly, a blush against your cheeks.

“Yes, you are,” Regulus stated plainly, flashing his eyes towards you. His hand came to your back, holding it gently. You couldn’t have flushed red any faster, your face felt like it was on fire.

“Oh,” The boy said, not expecting that response.

“It’s alright,” you chimed in, but the boy only waved his hand and walked towards the steps to the boy's dormitory. You felt foolish, you didn’t want to upset the boy.

“Don’t worry about him, he was teasing me, you’ve done nothing wrong, my love,” Regulus responded, turning his body back to face the piano, but he kept his gaze on you.

“You know him?” You perked up, looking up towards his eyes. He gave a smile, finding your embarrassed state adoring.

“Yes, he’s one of my dorm mates,” Regulus told you, leaning closer. His hand rubbed your lower back softly, soothing you.

“Oh, well that makes me feel better,” you retorted, eyes turning towards the piano. You placed your hands back onto the keys, giving him a side look. “May we continue?”

“Of course,” Regulus replied, his hand leaving your back. You felt cold without his hand but shook it off as you started to play the melody again. This time, you played it a bit quicker. You still missed some important keys, but Regulus just responded with a faint, “don’t worry, I know you’ll get it soon,”

“Can you explain what colours you see each note you play? He asked after you finished playing a slowed version of the melody. You nodded, moving your fingers to the first key.

“The thinner notes remind me of warm colours and the deeper notes are cold colours. For instance, this one reminds me of a pale yellow,” you say, pressing the higher sounding key. A ping sounded through the room before you moved your fingers to the second note.

“This one is... like a blue sky kind of colour,” You go on, explaining colour after colour. Before you know it, you reach the end of the melody.

“What does this note remind you of?” Regulus asked, pressing one of the deeper notes. You look at his dark green tie, wiggling your fingers to hold the thin material. You tug at his tie gently, signalling him to look towards it.

“It sounds like this colour,” You contort, smiling as you let go of his tie and use your palm to make it neat again. Regulus coughs from the back of his throat, shifting in his seat. You realize how insane you must be, touching the tie of a guy you just met.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you,” You say sheepishly. You look up towards Regulus, but he’s turned his head, you see the faint glow of a red on his cheeks. He brings his hand to hold his face, hiding it swiftly to try and calm himself.

“It’s fine,” he mumbles into his hand, he shivers before steadying himself. Regulus turns his head back, keeping his eyes away from yours.

A growing awkward silence fills the room, looking away from each other. You grab the oak bench cushions, pressing your feeling into it through your hands. You rock back slightly, but you feel him move closer to you, his arm brushed against yours.

“Do you think you’ve perfected the melody yet?” Regulus asked his sweaty hands on his knees. He rubbed his thighs, trying to wipe the sweat away. He felt like a nervous wreck.

“I think so,” you say, moving your hands as you place them against the starting keys. You wait for a second, before pressing the keys. You go on with the melody, getting each key right. Your fingers move over the white ivory keys, the viridian green filling your mind again.

“You’re so pretty,” Regulus lets the words slip out, his eyes filled with this type of adoration as he watches you. You snap your head to look towards him, gulping slightly. The melody falls short, your fingers stopping.

“I’m sorry, I should have said that,” Regulus quickly covers up, his ears red as he can’t keep his darkened eyes from yours.

“Not that you aren’t pretty, because you most definitely are! I just shouldn’t have told you, we’ve just met and I don’t want to be a creep,” Regulus goes onto explain, feeling embarrassed himself as he fumbled over his words.

“That’s okay! I don’t mind, I think you’re pretty as well,” You replied, looking over his sculpted features again. Regulus gave you a slanted look, he has never been called pretty before.

“I mean... handsome, you’re just really mesmerizing is what I mean,” you stumble over your words, feeling your ears start to heat up, the tips red.

“Thank you,” He responded, his body leaning closer to yours. He shakes out of it before he can lean any closer, your breath slipping from the shared moment. He turned back to the piano, placing his ring clasped fingers against the keys.

“Shall I teach you another melody?” Regulus asked, looking over. You nodded, sitting back into the backless bench. You watched as he looked towards the keys, eyes closed slightly. His eyelashes fell perfectly over his cheeks as he played the new melody.

Your mind flooded with the colour deep sea blue, the chords sounded so mellow. Once the melody came to an end, he turned to look towards you.

“It’s your turn now,” Regulus states, your fingers coming to replace his. You feel uncertain, you had been distracted by Regulus's beauty, you hadn’t watched his hand placement.

You press the first key, a deep sound flowing through you. The pleasant sounds didn't last long because you had played the wrong key, making the melody uneven. You give a sheepish look towards Regulus.

“It’s alright, let me take you through the placements again,” Regulus comforts quickly, his hands coming to rest over yours. He directs your fingers back to the starting keys. Regulus moves his body, tilting it weirdly.

“Here, let’s stand up,” He says, helping you stand before pushing the bench back to give you both room. His body comes behind yours, his hands placing yours back over the piano keys.

“Is this okay?” Regulus asks his whispers sending tingles through your spine. You nod slightly, your body leaning back into his. “Yes,”

Regulus starts to help you press the keys, taking you through the beautiful melody again. His hand are much bigger than yours, covering them from view. His cheek brushes against your hair, almost nuzzling closer to you.

When the melody ends, he stays still. You both don’t move, his hands over yours, his breath fanning over your ear in a calming way. Your heart beats faster, turning around slightly. Your lips part, tilting your head back to look up at him.

“Can I kiss you?” Regulus whispered, his eyes switching between your eyes to your lips. You nod quickly, words getting stuck in your throat.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed, watching as you close your eyes shut. You felt your face boil, feeling a nervous nausea wash over you.

His knuckle brushed your warm cheek, before his fingers cupping your jaw softly. You leaned up on your toes, your hand on his chest. Regulus pulled himself down, his lips meeting yours.

You leaned further on your toes, pressing yourself closer. It felt so new, being in this secret moment together made you pull him closer, wanting it to last forever.

He felt rich, the placement of his cold hands, the way his lips tasted like mint. you grabbed his coat, fingers squeezing around the fabric. You leaned back down, breaking the kiss. You let your eyes fall looking at his shiny shoes.

“Hey, look at me pretty girl,” Regulus said with a gentle voice, his fingers lifting your jaw. Your eyes met his again, your stomach filling with butterflies. He had a grin on his face, his once pale cheeks filled with colour.

“Would you like to go on a date with me? There is a wonderful restaurant just outside of Hogsmeade, I would like to converse with you more,” Regulus invited you. You nodded your head, feeling foolish once again for not using your words.

“I would love to,” you choked out, you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling and neither could Regulus.

Regulus frowned when he took a look at his watch, he leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I have to go, I’m meeting up with a professor,” Regulus said sadly, holding you close before letting you slip away from his hands. “I’ll see you on our date?”

“of course,” you agreed, watching as he gave a small gorgeous smile before slipping out of the Slytherin common room.

You sat on the nearby couch, resting your head in your hands as you let out a satisfied squeal. This day, could not have gone any better.

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black blurb #regulus black fluff #marauders #marauders era #regulus black oneshot #regulus black headcanons #harry potter fanfiction #marauders era one shot

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wangshuus · 3 years

Text

love like you | xiao

pairing: xiao/gn!reader

genre: angst+fluff

wc: 4.1k

summary: you and xiao are polar opposites according to him and because of that, he deems himself unworthy.

note: this is my first time writing for genshin and i love xiao so much so this is essentially a bunch of word vomit i whipped together while listening to love like you from the su soundtrack :’)

(i’ll have to go in for another proof read after but pls take this for now)

fic under the cut

In the land of Liyue, the Adepti were acknowledged for being the protectors of the sacred land, guarding both it and its people. As most of the adepti resided in their abodes, there was but one that stayed within the vicinity of the Wangshu Inn. Xiao; the Vigilant Yaksha, Conqueror of Demons, Alatus. He went by many titles, many names all of which carried the story of the adeptus himself. Upon the years of history carried through Liyue in its passing generations, it’s known to many that despite having the looks of a young man, the adeptus was not someone you would want to take lightly. The Yaksha carried thousands of years worth of burden, shackles of guilt and terror binding him to unpleasant memories. With every passing day, he is harshly reminded of the way he and his polearm skillfully worked through the bloodied dance of weapons on the battlefield, crimson liquid painting the ground and his very hands. It stains so intensely that it was like an unseen tattoo that reminded him of eons of slaughter he partook in, the lives and dreams he so greedily took from people. It was something only he could see and something he would continue to see for many more years to come according to him.

He very rarely got close to anything or anyone, devoting his life to duty and the orders granted to him by Rex Lapis to protect the beloved land of Liyue. For this very reason, he never thought much about emotions or the overall concept of it, seeing it as a worthless matter, a weakness even, for it could not help in the slaying of those in battle. All he ever knew at that point was violence, having his purity harshly stolen from his grasp all those centuries ago and being left with not even a single grain of what it was like to feel anything pleasant. Whenever he did feel anything, pain, suffering and agony were the only things that filled his system therefore to him, it was better to feel nothing at all. Needless to say, he was somewhat unapproachable on several levels, but who could blame him?

There then came a day in which all of this would away as an estranged guest made your way merry when into the Inn. You, (Y/n) were a mere mortal traveler with a dendro vision chained upon your hip, specializing in the field of healing. You stumbled upon the inn, looking to take on commissions and requests in exchange for a room for the time being. Your fates clashed with each other during your first encounter when you were tasked to deliver almond tofu to the adeptus that was specially made by yourself. You could still remember stuttering over your words in embarrassment during your first meeting as he revealed himself to you, commending you for your culinary skills but telling you to leave immediately, saying something along the lines of it being ‘too dangerous for mere mortals to stay in the presence of adepti for too long’. It was accurate to say that you two took an interest in the oddity of the situation. Why did Xiao decide to reveal himself to the simple human, knowing very well his mere presence was already a threat to you. Why did you not turn away in fear just from the adeptus’ profound deathly gaze? There were several unspoken questions between you two at the time but that one fateful encounter had caused a shift.

You had decided to extend your stay at the inn a little longer than you intended to. You went about the daily tasks set out by Verr in exchange for your stay every day that you were there. The completion of your tasks leads to a delivery that had become habitual to you during your stay at the inn. Every day you’d made your way up to the highest terrace in the inn to drop off a plate of almond tofu to the adeptus. On some days, he’d reveal himself and on some others, he chose to remain unseen-- and to you, this was okay. As the days passed, it began to be more apparent how odd this whole shift was for the both of them.

You are an adventurer, someone who sought out to travel the lands, and yet, you remained grounded at the Inn, your fascination and curiosity driving your patience to learn about the distant Yaksha and fuelling your willingness to stay settled at the inn instead of seeking for the thrill of adventure. Xiao was an adeptus, a being that has lived for many years on end, a being that has slaughtered countless, a being that carried an indescribable amount of karmic debt for all the treacherous and ungodly amount of terror he has bestowed upon thousands in the past. He could not explain to himself why he even decided to associate with a simple mortal, thinking that there was something wrong with him at the time because he knew that if he were in his right mind, he would have never even bothered taking a glance at the human. But then again, not all things could be explained. From the days that you had stayed at the Inn for that time, you would find yourself visiting the lone adeptus every evening, delivering a plate of what became familiar to him as your almond tofu, the one that deemed to be the closest to that of the dreams he so greedily devoured all those years ago.

Months had passed since the first day you first set foot into the inn. You had managed other work and commissions throughout the time but often found herself coming back. you became well acquainted with everyone who worked there, practically making it her second home in fact. Even when you did have to part ways, you would pass by whenever you could, sparing your time and energy at least once a week to come reeling back like a moth drawn to a flame. The reason behind it was very evident to you, nothing that you would ever admit to hiding at this point. You did enjoy the company and atmosphere of the other humans at the inn but at the end of the day, everything came back down to the enigmatic adeptus that resided there.

Sensing your presence had become second nature to the adeptus, him knowing the very moment you set foot into the Inn. He would never admit it to himself, but he found himself looking forward to the mortal’s visits. He still thought about the first day he decided to reveal himself to you, feeling a little more content about it with every passing day. But something about the whole ordeal scared him to no end. He wished it wasn’t the case but he was well aware of all the changes and feelings that had bloomed since you waltzed into his life. The feeling of bubbling excitement inside of him every time you came back to him, the feeling of embarrassment of when you’d blurt out compliments towards him, feeling more comfortable and daring as the visits continued. The feeling of protectiveness washing over him when you told him stories in which you got even the slightest bit injured. One may view this just as someone showing emotion; but that was the problem for him. He wasn’t supposed to show emotion-- he wasn’t supposed to feel-- according to himself at least. Rather, he didn’t deem himself worthy to feel pleasant emotions.

“Xiao” A familiar voice called out to him, turning to face the direction from where he stood, which happened to be the spot where he viewed the familiar landscape of Liyue.

You made your way towards him, holding out a plate of almond tofu which he had come to admire. He took the plate from your grasp and greeted her with a light hum of acknowledgment before beginning to munch down on the tofu. You let out a soft chuckle before standing next to him and leaning on the railing, staring off into the starry skies you had become accustomed to seeing, though every time, it never failed to amaze you. Your eyes gazed at the twinkling stars in the sky as you began your usual routine of speaking about how your life has been since you last saw each other. You had become accustomed to Xiao’s aloof demeanor at times like this because you knew that despite him seemingly looking uncaring, he was secretly listening to your rambling. You stared off into the distance as you spoke, your attention being stolen by the stars. While at work on the plate of almond tofu in his hands, Xiao took these moments to look at you as he silently listened to your long-winded sentences.

In serene moments like these, it was hard for Xiao to keep his composure. Though the stars in the sky glimmered so beautifully, they paled in comparison to your eyes when they sparkled so passionately when you spoke of your adventures. In moments like these, Xiao was reminded of your courteous nature. He was reminded of how good you are, going about your time adventuring the lands, specializing in the art of healing with the assistance of the beloved vision clipped at your side. You lived for adventure; you lived to help those in need. It was in moments like these when he became painfully aware of how different you were from each other.

It had been so long since Xiao ever considered himself to be good in any way. He was all too aware of the disgusting red that painted his hands permanently, the hands which have slain countless beings in the past. The hands that he did not see worthy to touch anything so fragile in fear that it would break, feeling as if anything would die at even the slightest touch of his fingertips. You see, when he met you, he was so sure that he was far from anything good and you proved himself to be right in his mind; because you were what he deemed to be good in his eyes. And he was nothing like you.

Before he knew it, he was left with an empty plate and a bustling mind full of thoughts as he looked out into the distance along with your words flowing freely with the wind. You turned back to see Xiao in all his glory, taking in his presence, eyes lingering upon him like the first time you met him. There was never a day that passed where he didn’t look stunning in your eyes. The reserved yaksha was nothing short of a challenge for you to get close to. Even to this day, there are times where he was standoffish towards you. In moments like these, you’re reminded of how you’ve barely scratched the surface of his character, being well aware that he’s lived far longer than you and will quite possibly continue to live way beyond your time. Though he hasn’t explained every single detail of his past to you, there have been significant points in time where he has opened up about snippets of his past, to which you grasped and held onto as much detail as you could when he went on. You’ve picked up that Xiao isn’t the most well-articulated when it comes to explaining his feelings but you paid no mind to it, taking pride over the fact that he has yet to slit your throat open with his spear. There have been countless occasions in which you’ve praised Xiao but none of them have truly projected your feelings towards the adeptus.

Xiao was not truly aware of how deeply you felt for him. Sure, he thought that you were interested enough to stick around and pester him for who knows whatever reason. However, it went way beyond that. You admired him so dearly, his presence being one in which you ironically found an indescribable amount of comfort in. You’ve listened intently to his wise words of wisdom, his tales of his bloodstained past that he was willing to share, as well as his little remarks about how peculiar humans are. You saw beyond the seemingly frigid, cold, and distant demeanor of Xiao and instead saw a boy with such a yearning to be tender, gentleness being beyond his reach according to him but to you, he was gentle.

You noticed the way he would handle the little things involving you. You notice the way his tone has changed in the slightest when talking to you whenever he does, softer than the first time you had initially met. You notice the way he acts when it comes to physical touch, preferring to make little to no contact to you but his touches were soft and fleeting whenever touch was necessary. He’s told you several times in the past that he has a brute touch preferring a distance to keep himself from hurting you. From that alone, you knew he’s gentle, reluctant to admit it though due to the events of the past but nonetheless, his gentleness was hard to grasp but must be cherished greatly and that is something that you have done.

“Xiao” You called out to him. He turned to face you, noticing how you were staring right back at him, your arms resting upon the railing as you gazed at him.

“Is something wrong? You seem a little more spaced out today.” You spoke out again.

He sighed before clicking his tongue. “It's nothing that should be of any concern to mo--”

“--mortals like you, I know yada yada yada. You’ve said that far too many times in the past. Now tell me, what’s truly wrong Xiao. I did make you listen to my rambling so it’s only fair that you shoot something my way.” You cut him off.

Annoyance laced his features as he let out his nth sigh of the day. He turned to look at you, giving you a serious, almost cold look.

“I am already greatly aware of how odd some human tendencies are, knowing you mortals do some strange actions that even I question to this day. But you, you are the most peculiar of ones that I have encountered. You wish to stay with someone as myself, someone who could take your life in a single heartbeat. So tell me, why does someone like you continue to linger?”

Lo and behold, a question that you were surprised to hear from him, though you knew the day would eventually come when he would ask. Why did you continue to come to him time and time around? You let out an exasperated sigh as you turned to him with a lighthearted smile in an attempt to lighten the tension that filled the air.

“I enjoy your company, that’s all. Is it so wrong to spend time with someone when you enjoy them being around?” You stated. His eyes narrowed at your response.

“I do not believe it is normal to risk your life simply for mere company, it is not worth it. I refuse to believe that your motives are as light-hearted as that. Is there something that you desire that is beyond that of human capabilities?” He stated.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your smile faltered at his aloof response. What was with the sudden cold demeanor he decided to put up front? You held eye contact with his warm amber orbs that held a stare ironically as cold as the mountains of Dragonspine.

“It’s because you’re you, Xiao. I come back and spend my time here because you are you. I enjoy the little things about you and the time we spend together, y’know? I enjoy the way your eyes light up at the sight of almond tofu, I enjoy your little declarations of how odd us mortals are, I enjoy hearing you open up about even the littlest of things. You’re special in my eyes, Xiao. You’re strong in so many different aspects, you’re wise in the words of advice you speak and last but not least, you’re gentle. Those are just a few of many aspects of yourself that make you so special to me.”

Xiao’s face contorted to one of bewilderment for a brief moment before morphing to one of disbelief, scoffing at the statement. ‘Gentle’ he thought. When you mentioned him being gentle, he thought to himself that it was a load of pure nonsense.

“Calling me gentle is simply blasphemous. I have told you countless times that I am far anything related to that of a tender nature. I leave nothing but a trail of anguish and regret. You’re foolish to see me in anything of a good kind of special, even more so if you see me as gentle.” He firmly stated as his arms crossed tightly across his torso.

Archon’s Xiao’s mind was a mess. He was in a stubborn state of denial as he refused to believe the words that slipped past your lips, writing them off as lies. He covered the creeping insecurity that arose in him with a stone cold demeanor like he always did. He couldn’t accept it, he couldn't even fathom to believe what makes you think he’s so special.

“Listen Xiao, you’re being awfully stubborn right now.” You said dejectedly. Despite his current manner, you wouldn’t back down, seeing this as one of the only opportunities where you could truly and openly speak about how you felt towards him. You turned so that you were fully facing him, standing your ground as you spoke to him.

“You think so lowly of yourself sometimes y’know? It saddens me to know that you only ever see yourself like that.” You stated.

“I am stating nothing but the tru--” Xiao spoke.

“Listen to me, Xiao.” You cut him off, him being surprised by your snapback.

“You’re far more than your own past. I’m aware of everything you’ve gone through from what you’ve told me. Forgive me for I’m unable to fully sympathize with you but I can’t let you continue to do this to yourself. I’ve only known you for mere months out of the thousands of years you’ve lived but I’ve been around you long enough to know that you’re not as bad as you claim yourself to be.” You paused for a moment to gather yourself before you continued on, looking that Xiao was very much paying attention, an unreadable look on his face.

“You’ve told me yourself that you’ve been around long enough to capture the knowledge of the world to an extent. You’ve told me that you’re aware of how barbaric and lethal your own strength is but you’ve never told me that you hold tenderness inside you, even after all you’ve been through. You hold such valuable knowledge in the field of strength but you’ve failed to notice that the gentleness in you is not completely gone.” Your own hands stretched out and firmly held onto his gloved ones as you continued speaking.

“You speak about yourself as if you’re not worthy of feeling anything but the anguish and pain as a price to pay for your actions. You’re allowed to feel vulnerable, you’re allowed to feel curious, you’re allowed to feel happiness. I want you to be more honest with yourself so that you can see that you’re worthy enough to feel good emotions. You can extend yourself out to others and the human world and allow yourself to be free. Still after all this time, I sense you feel that it’s necessary to keep me at an arm's length but that’s not true nor is it something that I want. Though this fact alone proves my statement. The fact you wish to keep me away is a sign that you hold that gentleness within but you can still learn to be gentle without having to lock everyone out. Your loneliness isn’t an inevitable conclusion, and I’ll prove to you that it isn't. I wish to stay with you not only because I enjoy your company but because I found something in you worth cherishing. I want to see you grow from whatever anguish you hold, even if it’s just a little bit. I know my life might be merely a second in yours but please, let me do what I can in my lifetime to make you feel worthy and feel loved, because I truly do love and care for you, Xiao.” Your grip tightened around his hands, fearing that he’d yank them away from you with every passing second. Although you firmly stand your ground, you were internally malfunctioning at the whole-hearted confession to the adeptus in front of you.

Xiao felt as if the wind was knocked out of his lungs, face contorted into that of even more disbelief as he found himself still trying to process this whole ordeal. He took the time in processing the words that came directly from your heart as it went straight into his, a warm feeling erupting inside of him, something that felt to foreign to him that it scared him a little. Though your words held a weight to them, it was much more pleasant compared to that of his past memories, but it wasn’t enough to distract him from the way you desperately held onto him.

He was well aware that he could pull away from you at any moment, knowing that your strength could in no way match his but he couldn’t do it. The moment your hands touched his, even through his gloves he felt the firm gentleness of your grasp. You were no hydro user but in that very moment, he felt as if you washed away the bloody sins that stained his hands for years on end. For once he felt clean; for once he felt pure, rid of all the unpleasantries of the world for these very moments that he spent with you.

You noticed how Xiao stood still. You feared that you might’ve severely angered him from the way you snapped at him, but the look on his face told you otherwise.

The usually serious and stern face of the adeptus held such a soft, perhaps vulnerable look. His eyes were wide and in the moonlight, you could tell that they were glossed over from the way they shone with emotion, mouth slightly ajar, possibly trying to find the right words to respond to you. He didn’t need to say anything though because from that look alone, you got all the answers that you needed.

You slowly let go of his hands as one arm moved to wrap around his waist and the other going towards the back of his head, reeling him in closely for a foreign yet mellow embrace. His hands awkwardly stayed at his sides before they slowly and hesitantly moved to hug you back, leaning in gently to your touch as your hand led his head to the crook of your neck, allowing him to bask in the warmth you so generously offered him. For the first time in archons knows how long, Xiao felt a warm liquid spill from his eyes, staining your shirt. Your hands ruffled through his hair in an attempt to soothe him in his time of vulnerability. His hold on you was still so light, almost as if he was afraid he’d break you if he held on even tighter. The hand that ghosted over his back made its way to one of his arms and tugged at it, encouraging him to hold on as much as he needed.

“It’s okay Xiao, you can hold on tighter. I’m not as fragile as you may think. You don’t have to be scared of breaking me.” You chuckled lightheartedly.

His grip did tighten, as he began to mumble words with his face still buried at your side. Something along the lines of apologizing for snapping at you earlier. Your smile widened as you held onto him even tighter if that was possible.

Xiao knew he wasn’t perfect, he was far from it in fact. He had so many flaws and rough edges but that was okay--that’s what made him Xiao. He never understood until now why you thought he was so special and to be quite frank, he still didn’t understand, but he was determined to understand it one day. He wasn’t good like you but he wanted to start believing that he was good in his own way, wishing to truly do something that he felt was right by you in the future. Though it wouldn’t be the easiest of journeys, he was determined to do something that feared him to no end--for you. He wanted to learn how to love, how to love you even more and openly express it to you but also, learn how to love himself, just as you loved him.

“Thank you, (Y/n).”

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact x reader #genshin xiao #xiao #xiao x reader #love like you #fanfic #fanfiction

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leahseclipse · 3 years

Text

Battle of knowledge

Pairing: Spencer Reid x male!reader

Summary: When a battle of knowledge abruptly occurs as the two known doctors meet at a case, everyone is partially amused by their hate towards the other, as they both differ their problems in quite a unusual way afterwards.

Warnings: Mentions of case, usual cm stuff…, slight sex allusions (rated T just in case the mentions happen to be something that’d be rated like that)

Word count: 1.7 k

A/N: Hey everyone!! I hope you guys are well!! I took this request from @imagining-in-the-margins as she didn’t want it, so here I am :) that fic is kind of dedicated to @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff , I thought a lot about you as I wrote this fic :)! Hope everyone enjoys. (yeah the dialogue is ehhh in the first half to me, sorry for that)

When Spencer had gone all the way from Virginia to Arizona for a case that had yet to upset the rest of his team, he didn't actually expect another person to upset him as much as the authors of the crime themselves.

The other person was known as the genius of the team, another "version" of him, except that he was in Arizona, with a slightly different rank.

He didn't think badly of him at first, he appreciated the fact of having another person similar to him, which meant that he didn't have to explain the terms he'd use to someone else, he could talk without complications.

He’d usually have to pause in his lecture to explain some stuff, but he didn’t feel like he’d need to do it with him.

"Arizona's genius, y/n y/l/n. It's nice to meet you all. I heard there's another genius here. As much as I'd like to have a nice chat, killers are on the loose, so, eventually, at the end of the case."

The way he had talked was completely fascinating to him, even if he wanted to, he couldn't draw his eyes off him as he talked.

The first words had completely convinced them, and he really felt like he could have a correct interaction with him.

It wasn't everyday that he'd had the occasion to meet another mind similar to his.

This happened to be quite relieving considering the complicity of the case, and it would be much faster for everything to be answered as they'll be two.

"No, he's not that type of guy! Look at what he did, especially at the third victim!" He yelled.

"We have all reasons to think he could be like that, I didn't say it definitely is, but it could be." Spencer argued, pissed off by his words.

"The M.O you just described doesn't really fit, something is missing, and none of what you said makes it right."

"It's the closest thing we have, it's that or we completely start from scratch, as if it's "wrong" to you."

"I don't think it's only to me, and it's better to try to start again than continue with what we have and possibly launch into a wall because that wasn't right. Okay, that's going to take time, but might as well get it right."

"When I expected for the case to go smoothly, I didn't come all the way for this, since when are you so annoying?"

"Oh, now I'm annoying? I'm just doing my job, and you're the one acting offended. So," He paused, as he gathered papers before walking away. "If you excuse me, I have to catch the ones doing this, instead of wasting time. Come back to me when you're in a better mood to work correctly." Y/N said, as another coworker of his approached Spencer not long after he had left.

"Um...I doubt that'll make the situation better, but he acts like that, sometimes. It may seem that he's not going to work, but don't worry, it's mainly so he can...get himself back in the right head space." He explained. "Don't try...get pissed off at each other too often, none of our unit chiefs will be happy with that."

"He could have been less...like that."

"It's just y/l/n being himself, 'can't do much about it. Anyway, let's get back to work, and try to get better you two, at least till we wrap the case."

"Trouble's around." Derek chirped to JJ.

"This case is going to be...fun. Let's hope we at least get to have a distraction."

"Oh, don't worry JJ, we'll have one. They're not done fighting. Definitely not."

"Do you think they're gonna make up and become friends, or yell at each other until the end?" Emily asked.

"A mix of the two. They'll kinda hate each other, but not enough to resist having a conversation between geniuses." Garcia answered.

"True. It's not every day that the both of them get to talk with someone that understands their stuff." Derek pointed out.

"Let's hope that we'll get to see some animation in between work."

"Are you here to yell again or try to have a calm conversation?" Y/N asked, as soon as Spencer entered.

"I don't get why you're directly attacking before I get to say anything." Spencer protested.

"Just in case."

"Okay, do you have something against me or what? Because I can't work if you keep being angry all of the time."

"I'm not angry." He answered.

"Then I'm a clown if I can't even read your face. It's written on your forehead that you are, you're literally an open book." Spencer closed the door, having a slight feeling that the conversation would possibly get louder.

"I thought you weren't supposed to profile the people you work with, no? I'm not your coworker, but we're working on this case together, so don't profile me unless I ask, which will never happen."

"I don't get you."

"What is there even to understand? You're the one I don't get."

"It's you that I can't figure out. I just can't stand you right now."

"Unfortunately, I'm afraid you'll have to calm your nerves till we finish that case. Because I'm not wasting twenty minutes explaining what is there to "understand" about me." He spit back, glancing at Spencer.

"I can't keep talking with you if you act like that."

"I'm not a cute puppy in case you haven't figured that out. I'm not going to be nice just for you, especially when you point out that I'm not how you like to be talked."

"I didn't specify anything."

"Didn't you, doctor?" He focused on the last word, raising his eyebrows.

"Damn it." Spencer walked up to him in a snap, glancing at him for a split second before suddenly taking in his face in his hands as he roughly kissed him.

Not even one of them expected that it'd just take a single argument to let the pressure out.

They were just kissing each other, like that. Spencer was the one who started it, not even wondering if he'd return it or walk away, but turns out that y/n had been the one to take the lead after that, as he gripped his hair, slamming him against the wall.

Nothing really mattered in that moment, they didn't even think about the others possibly walking in, all they both needed to do was to let out of all the frustration contained since this morning.

It wasn't quite only anger, but also because they had both wanted each other, in their own way.

As much as Y/N was afraid to admit it, he did imagine it, slamming him against the wall, even if he wouldn't be strong or even courageous enough to do that.

Spencer did imagine gripping his jaw, especially after he walked out in fury, he was so upset about him that all he wanted was to kiss him to let him know what he felt.

He didn't want to admit it, but he hated it whenever someone raised his voice at him, he needed to do that to calm himself, in some way.

If they weren't in some police station, their shirts would have already been on the floor, the layers of clothes between them were more than infuriating as they tugged at the other's shirt.

And even when they stopped for a moment to breathe again, it didn't take much for their lips to link again after a short glance.

Spencer quickly flipped y/n the other way so he'd be the one against the wall, and to his surprise, his face quickly gained another tint.

He caged him in with one arm against the wall, gripping his chin with the other, as y/n tugged at his hair again, not knowing where else to put them.

Things went fast so quickly, they didn't even think about what they'd do, they just went with the flow.

What they forgot to think and pay attention about, was that they weren't alone in the place.

Literally all of the people working at the station were there, and could possibly start to look for them.

They really didn't care about it, none of them broke the kiss to point it out, it was just four walls, them, and their mixed feelings.

"I still can't stand you." Spencer said in between when they briefly broke the kiss.

"Me neither." He blurted out.

As one of them probably guessed at some point, their inattention cost them when they didn't even hear the lock of the door over their breaths.

"Hey, we found…" JJ walked in, stopping in the middle of the sentence.

The door kept itself open, as the noise of the outside drew in, causing them to break away as both of their eyes were wide open.

Spencer's hair was a mess, strands going everywhere, which would need to be at least fixed with his hand for him to be presentable.

Only the back of y/n's hair was messed up as he was against the wall most of the time.

Both of their shirts had a few buttons out, although, y/n's was the closest to being on the floor if someone hadn't come.

By the time they had begun slowly walking away from the other, she had definitely just seen them making out.

"...something." She ended the sentence, not quite knowing what to say after witnessing the event.

"Oh, uh...we'll uh...meet you in just a sec." Spencer said.

"Right. Okay." JJ responded, closing the door in a hurry.

"I hate to say this to you, but I think we're screwed." Y/N pointed out once she was gone.

"They'll definitely be able to tell from the look on her face and ours when we'll get out."

"Yeah, we should have…done it elsewhere."

"It's a bit late for that."

"You're the one who started, you should have at least chosen another place genius."

"I have to admit it but, true."

"They'll definitely figure out you're the one who started, you basically entered after me."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't. You just don't like me." He corrected Spencer, as he opened the door to walk out, walking out of the room.

It didn't take much for some of their coworkers's eyes to lay on them as they entered their vision.

Spencer discreetly approached y/n after Hotch began talking, making sure the attention was elsewhere.

"I'm going to show you how much I 'just don't like you' when we're out of here, you're gonna see."

"Deal."

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Spencer Reid #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #cm fic #cm spencer reid #spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid fic #matthew gray gubler fic #cm male reader #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #male reader

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dixonsmonroe · 3 years

Text

Pieces of History

Summary: Bucky’s hesitant about going on a date to the Smithsonian, but being with you makes it a lot easier.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

word count: 1,200

author’s note: thank you to @cherry-season for this request! it was nice to write a cute date fic again <3 hope this is what you had in mind!

warnings: none, just a nostalgic bucky and some fluff!

The museum was bustling with people, more so now that school was back in session. A large group of middle school kids being led by an enthusiastic tour guide, a frustrated teacher, and two very bored looking chaperones passed by you. You always loved coming here on days like today.

Bucky tried to hide it, but you could tell he was a little taken aback when you brought up a museum date to the Smithsonian at breakfast this morning. You both had the day off and you wanted to do something you didn’t normally do together. You really hadn’t thought about it, just brought it up as a casual suggestion, then realized that maybe he didn’t want to go to a museum with a whole exhibit about the man he used to be and his best friend that he used to do everything with. You scrambled and said you could go to any museum, it didn’t have to be that one, but when he saw the excitement on your face at the first mention of it, he insisted it was fine.

As you walked up the stairs to the door, you held his hand and squeezed it. If he was being honest, it wasn’t as nerve racking since he was here with you. You loved history, and watching you get excited about it was one of his favorite things.

You both bought tickets and walked through the museum, past families with children, admiring the history. You marveled at the air and space exhibit, and spent a good deal of time in the Amelia Earhart section.

You ended up in front of the entrance to the Captain America exhibit. It was full of excited kids enamored with their favorite superheroes.

You looked up at him as he scanned the crowd of people. “Good?”

He looked at you and nodded. “Good.”

You walked up to the Howling Commandos display, all of their suits lined up with their portraits on the wall. You grinned as you looked up at his picture.

“You’ve always been so handsome,” you said, knowing he was blushing beside you.

“I don’t know, I was kind of a nerd back then,” he chuckled, though you could hear a sadness in his voice. An aching for the younger version of himself, void of the horrors he experienced for decades.

You scoffed playfully. “You’re still a nerd. And I would have fallen in love with that guy in a heartbeat.”

“Yeah?” he smirked at you.

“Don’t think Steve hasn’t told me about what a ladies man you were,” you nudged him. You walked through the exhibit, both of you taking it all in.

You’d read about Captain America and his brave band of soldiers as a kid growing up in school, and you always found it fascinating. The stories of heroics, of patriotism, of tragedy. Reading through your textbooks in school, you may have even had a small crush on Sergeant James Barnes before you ever met him.

You got to the videos of Bucky and Steve and the rest of the Commandos in their camp. There was one of Bucky and Steve laughing together, like they didn’t have a care in the world. Bucky looked so young, so carefree.

You looked at your Bucky beside you, who was watching the video with a small curve of his lips. He didn’t notice you looking at him; you knew this was him genuinely remembering this moment, and holding it to himself as if the years of misery he went through never happened. This was a man happily reminiscing on memories of him and his best friend. It was the most content you’d seen him in a while. There was a certain calm that came over him, you could see it on his face.

You heard a small voice behind you then, whispering, “Mom, it’s Bucky!”

You both turned and looked at the kid, whose mother had an apologetic look on her face.

“Sorry, he’s just a really big fan,” she said.

“No worries,” Bucky smiled.

“Can I have your autograph?” the kid asked Bucky confidently.

“Spencer--” his mother warned.

“Of course,” Bucky nodded, kneeling down and signing the poster of the Commandos that he handed to Bucky.

“Thanks!” the kid said excitedly, and his mother mouthed a ‘thank you,’ with an appreciative smile before walking away.

You smiled up at Bucky, watching how he beamed after them. You knew even after all this time of freedom, he still wasn’t used to being looked at as a hero. You made your way through the rest of the exhibit, coming across another picture of him with a blurb detailing his younger years, further solidifying him as the hero he was.

You nudged him. “Y’know, the army’s lucky I didn’t know you back then.”

“Yeah?” he asked. “Why’s that?”

“I would’ve stolen you away, wouldn’t have let ‘em have you,” you shrugged.

He laughed and put his arm around your shoulders. “If I had to put money on you or the US military, I’d put it on you.”

You smiled. “Damn right.”

You stopped into the gift shop afterwards, looking at knick knacks that were far too expensive, when you saw a small banner with the Howling Commandos logo on it. You looked at him and smiled brightly.

“Come on, I’m a history buff, this is perfect for my apartment,” you said.

“That the only reason you want it?”

You shrugged. “Maybe.”

He kissed you and smiled. “Let me get it for you.”

“Babe, you don’t have to—“

He waved it off and headed toward the counter. After he paid, and the teenager at the cash register tried to hide the excitement at the fact that he was selling the Bucky Barnes a piece of memorabilia, you stepped outside into the crisp autumn air.

“You hungry?” he asked, interlacing metal fingers with yours.

“I am,” you replied, and you decided to get food from the cafe next door to the museum. You took your lunch to go and sat in a park nearby while you ate.

“Thank you for coming here with me,” you said, taking a sip of your iced tea.

“Thank you for taking me,” he replied. “I haven’t been here since…”

He took a deep breath and sighed. You lifted his left hand to your lips and nodded at him to go on.

“Since I was in hiding,” he said. “After I pulled Steve out of the Potomac. I hid out for a while in DC, and I came here, just trying to remember as much as I could.”

“Did it help?”

He nodded. “I started keeping a journal, and things slowly started coming back to me. Coming here with you now, though—it’s different. I feel like I can breathe.”

You smiled wide at that, leaning forward to capture his lips in a kiss. He smiled against your lips, and placed a small kiss on your forehead when you went to pull away.

“I love you,” you said.

“I love you too, doll,” he replied.

Later on, back at your place, you didn’t miss the proud grin on his face when you hung your new banner over the couch in the living room, visible to anyone who came into the apartment.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #my fic #cherry-season #request

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retrievablememories · 3 years

Text

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.”

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