lyinyao

[lyinyao]

continuation of one of my previous post on “what if the organizations in windbre are lowkey gods”

i’ve officially continued this au over on my wbk blog if you’re interested!

[lyinyao]

[lyinyao]

How it feels to post anything on this site Ever

[lyinyao]

just watched ep 1 and the animation was darn right amazing, you can tell they got budget

on the other hand the wonwoo e-word countdown edits have been such a treat to watch (；ω；)

as both a hardcore wind breaker fan and carat april 3rd gives me turbulent waves of emotion

[lyinyao]

this new "ravens" sakura outfit is such a treat omg

[lyinyao]

I know most people don't care about anything unless it has to do with the U.S. but can we please start talking about the Canadian election.

Please don't vote for Poilievre. He's basically the Canadian Trump and plans to put in place laws that harm trans youth, and lots of other shit.

Please vote istg this is the only way anything will get better. Poilievre has been kissing millionaires and billionaires asses. He'll make life even harder, and he loves Trump.

Reblogs are appreciated, especially if you aren't Canadian.

[lyinyao]

🌬️🏵️

[lyinyao]

the starlit streets of gotham

# pairing: yandere batfam x magical girl reader

# synopsis: after meeting a strange cat you suddenly gain magical powers. now gotham has a new hero.

# warnings: this will contain dark themes such as obsession and possessiveness. if you are uncomfortable, please block me. viewer discretion is advised. minors DNI.

# notes: reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated!

the rain came down hard, soaking the city in cold filth. it pooled in potholes, ran in oily rivers down the streets, and dripped from rusted fire escapes like the city itself was bleeding out. somewhere below, a scream cut through the night—sharp, desperate.

from the rooftop, a figure watched. a pink ruffle fluttered in the wind, its lining stitched with constellations that shimmered when the light hit just right. a silver staff rested in gloved hands, pulsing faintly, sensing the wrongness in the air.

magic wasn’t supposed to exist in Gotham. the city belonged to shadows and fists, to monsters that grinned too wide and men who broke their own bones to prove a point. but you had awakened anyway, flooding the senses with truths no one else could see—sickness festering beneath the pavement, the way darkness slithered between the cracks.

and tonight, that darkness had its hands around a woman’s throat.

in the alley below, three figures in clown masks had backed their prey against a brick wall. one had a knife. Another was laughing, a shrill, jittery sound that bounced between the buildings. the third just stood there, waiting, the way a wolf waits when it knows the fight is already over.

a breath. a shift in weight.

the silver staff raised, and a single whispered command slipped into the night. “moonlight bind”

the air crackled. silver chains of light erupted from nothing, coiling around the three like glowing roots. the laughter died. the knife clattered to the pavement. one of them tried to run, but the bindings yanked tight, pinning all three in place.

up on a distant rooftop, hidden behind the curtain of rain, nightwing watched.

his white eyes followed the way the figure landed lightly in the alley, boots touching down in the spreading neon puddles. the way they tilted their head, inspecting your work—not cruel, not hesitant. just making sure it held.

magic.

gotham had never been kind to the supernatural. It had its monsters, sure, but they bled when you hit them hard enough. magic was something else. something unpredictable. something dangerous.

And yet, here it was.

dick’s jaw slightly dropped in awe. he watched as the figure twirled the staff again, then leapt—up, out, into the storm—leaving only the dying glow of silver chains in the alley below.

for a long moment, he stood there, listening to the rain, watching the place where the light had been. his mind drifting your pink frilly outfit and one thought could only pop in his mind, “so cute.”

then he turned and disappeared into the night.

it was raining again.

not the dramatic kind of gotham rain that lashed against windows and turned the city into a blur of neon and shadow—just a slow, miserable drizzle that seeped into your bones and made everything smell like wet pavement.

you sat at your desk, tapping your pen against your notebook, only half-listening as the teacher droned on about something historical and probably tragic. the words blurred together. the clock above the whiteboard ticked too loud.

next to you, tim drake nudged my arm with his elbow.

“you look like you’re about to drop dead at any moment,” he whispered.

you sighed. “i wish.”

tim chuckled under his breath. “long night?”

he said it like he was joking, but with tim, you could never be sure. he had this way of looking at people—really looking, like he was piecing together a puzzle you didn’t even know you were part of.

“just tired,” you said. not a lie. not the whole truth, either.

tim nodded like he understood anyway. his foot tapped against the floor—he was always moving, always thinking. his notes were perfect—bullet points, underlined dates, little side comments in the margins. yours were a half-finished doodle of a cat and a blank space where information should have been. 

“you take notes like you’re writing a novel,” I muttered, eyeing the neat bullet points.

tim smirked, twirling his pen between his fingers. “some of us actually want to pass.”

you scoffed. “i do want to pass. I just think history should be more… optional.”

tim huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “yeah, that sounds like something you’d say.” He hesitated for half a second, then glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “i could help you study, y’know.”

you blinked.

for a moment, he looked like he wanted to take it back—ducking his head slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. his ears had gone a little pink.

you ignored the way my stomach twisted at that.

the teacher said something about an upcoming project. tim scribbled something down, and you let your gaze drift toward the window. the city stretched out past the glass, rain-slicked and endless, a dull orange glow swallowed by low-hanging clouds.

something felt off.

you didn’t know how to explain it.

like the air was heavier. like something in the city had shifted, just slightly, just enough that you could feel it in my teeth.

you shook the thought away and turned back toward tim. he was still writing, lost in whatever thought had taken hold of him.

you opened your mouth—maybe to ask if he felt it too, maybe just to say something stupid—but the bell rang before you could.

tim sighed, stuffing his notes into his bag. “you heading straight home?”

you hesitated. you should have said yes. should have made up an excuse. instead, you shifted in your seat.

“…dunno.”

tim’s gaze lingered, eyes deep and searching, like in this moment, i was the only thing in his world. his expression softened, the usual sharp focus melting into something quieter, something warmer.

then, barely above a whisper, like he wasn’t sure he wanted me to hear it—

“be careful, okay?”

the feeling in your stomach returned, but you forced a grin. “what, worried about me?”

he rolled his eyes but didn’t quite meet mine. “just—text me later, alright?”

“yeah, yeah.” you waved him off, grabbing my bag. “see you tomorrow, Drake.”

he huffed a laugh. “see you.”

you left before he could say anything else.

tim’s words stuck with you longer than they should have.

even as you left the school, even as you walked through the rain-slicked streets, you kept hearing them—soft, careful, like he was saying more than just be careful. like he knew something I didn’t.

you shook the thought away. gotham makes people paranoid. it gets under your skin, curls around your ribs, makes you see things in shadows that aren’t there. you weren't about to let it get to you.

but the feeling lingered.

the weight in the air, the way the city felt different, like something was shifting just beneath the surface. the streetlights buzzed too loud. the shadows stretched just a little too far. the drizzle had turned into a thin mist, blurring the edges of buildings, turning the world into something unreal.

you turned down the alley behind your apartment, pulling your hood up, ready to shake off the weirdness of the day—

and then you saw the cat.

small. black as the alley it sat in. watching you.

completely dry.

you stopped.

the feeling in your ribs tightened.

you should have ignored it. you really should have.

but the cat blinked—silver eyes, too bright in the dark, too big for its face—and suddenly, you couldn’t move.

you couldn’t look away.

And then—

it spoke.

not out loud, not like a cartoon. the voice was in my head, curling around your thoughts like smoke. "you can hear me."

you took a step back. the cat followed. its eyes were silver, too bright in the dark, too big for its face.

you wanted to run. every instinct in you screamed to leave, to pretend this never happened. but something in your chest burned, something you didn’t recognize, and your feet stayed planted where they were.

the cat took another step forward. the shadows stretched with it, bending wrong, twisting around its paws like they wanted to pull it back.

"gotham is sick," the cat said, and you felt the words more than heard them. "and you can fix it."

what the actual fuck—

you opened your mouth, but no sound came out.

the cat’s eyes widened, and suddenly your head was full of light. your vision blurred—flashes of the city, of darkness curling under its skin, of something old and rotten stirring beneath its streets. your chest tightened. your heart pounded too fast, too loud. the cat came closer, its fur brushing your leg, and the second it touched you—

everything exploded.

not fire. not heat. light.

silver, cold, endless. it rushed through you, into you, twisting itself around your bones, threading itself through your veins. your skin burned, but you didn’t scream. your head was full of knowing—of power, of purpose, of the city whispering secrets you had never wanted to hear.

you dropped to your knees in the alley, gasping, hands shaking.

the cat sat in front of me, tail curled neatly around its paws, watching.

"What… what did you do to me?"

the cat blinked. the rain didn’t touch it. "i gave you a choice."

you didn’t remember choosing.

but when you looked down at your hands, they weren’t empty anymore. a silver staff lay across your palms, glowing faintly in the dark. The rain turned to steam when it touched me. your breath came out in clouds.

and somehow, you knew—if you reached out, if you let it, you could pull the light into your hands and turn it into something real.

you could fight.

the cat stood, stretching lazily. "fix it," it said again, voice curling into the back of your skull. "or let it rot. the power is yours now."

then it turned and walked into the dark, swallowed by the city before you could ask anything else.

you sat there, rain pooling around me, heart still hammering.

the light inside me hadn’t faded.

and somehow, you knew it never would.

[lyinyao]

cherry (blossom) on top [250401] wc ~ 1.6k

tags ~ friends but not yet lovers, intentional lowercase, fem!reader implied, not proofread

notes ~ early series sakura who's still emotionally constipated to an extent, reader lives in the next town over so they don't hang out often, reader is friends with nirei, kind of ooc towards the end? i tried my best </3

‧˚₊⊹꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

it’s a normal day at Pothos when every store on the street are closed for the day and yet the faintest chatter could still be heard from inside the café. but today is a special occasion, the entire grade 1 Tamon team (plus umemiya and a few leaders) is gathered here to celebrate the birthday of their heroic grade captain!

a normal birthday procedure was set in place, good food (sponsored by kotoha), a delicious cake with a portion that wasn’t nearly enough, a toast to the birthday boy with sakura practically melting from the attention and most importantly, great company.

the atmosphere has significantly died down past sundown, however sakura’s main group of friends and a few others continued to stay behind, leisurely chatting and playfully pressuring sakura into another competitive game night, until a text notification rings from his phone – from you :

he raised his head from the phone screen, getting ready to leave but not before taking in the current situation, he just so happened to be sitting in the innermost corner of the seating booth, holding back from clicking his tongue in frustration fully expecting a myriad of teasing if anybody finds out his reason for leaving early.

his abrupt stand prompted a few heads to turn, mainly consisting of the first years he was initially part of a conversation with and kotoha who was mindlessly wiping a few plates and concluding her work shift. “ahh leaving already sakura-kun?”, taiga chips in as suo who was sitting next to him makes way for sakura to get out.

“yeah, got tired.”, he shrugs after a simple lie, taking a short glance down at the time shown on his phone lockscreen. “wow, sakura-kun’s got a bedtime curfew of a baby~”, suo chimes as he settles back down onto his seat, flashing a closed-eye smile at the refuting boy.

sakura mutters a few goodbyes on the way out, not bothering to elaborate more when anzai was pestering at him to stay as he rushed to the exit door. footsteps slowing once he was out of sight, wondering if it would be awkward for you if he had arrived earlier than you did and ended up ruining any potential surprises you had in mind (knowing you).

by the time sakura reaches the park you've both agreed to meet up at, he spots you from a distance hunched over in a sort of panicky state, when your entire figure comes into view, he realises you're fumbling with a lighter at hand.

his steps slow, unsure whether he should be catching you in such a predicament knowing you hadn't noticed him approaching. as he gets closer, his noise of his shoes scraping against the sandy ground of the park becomes clearer, effectively notifying you of sakura's presence.

in a flash you hide your hands behind your back, greeting sakura with a sheepish smile, "sakura-kun! you're here! shit.. um, could you close your eyes for a sec?", followed by an awkward chuckle, which was when sakura decided to comply.

with his eyes closed he could hear the desperate continuous clicks of the lighter, and your aggressive mumbling - something along the lines of 'did i grab the faulty one?.. but i replaced that like last week..!', sakura fights the curl of his lips when he hears your quiet celebratory 'yes!' after the candle (he assumes) is successfully lit.

once he feels a reassuring warmth being carefully raised up to his face and eventually hit the tip of his nose, he figures that's his cue to open his eyes.

you start singing a light "happy birthday" tune, and as sakura peeks his eyes open, he first notices the 'cake' you'd prepared, a cupcake, clearly store-bought because the liner doesn't match the icing, speaking of, it had a haphazardly drawn-on sakura blossom with pink icing on top of the flat cupcake top, but your expression says you were very proud of your own handiwork.

what really takes the cake is the singular sakura petal placed as a garnish and a matching pink candle stuck on the middle of the pastry. you urge him to make a wish and he does, blowing out the candle in turn, which earns him an excited cheer coming from you.

you thrust the cupcake into his hands, offering him a taste and speed off to the sea-saw behind, bending down to pick up something from the seats, while sakura peels back the cupcake liner and prepares to take a bite but not before admiring the effort you’d gone through, face warming at the fact that you went out of your way to prepare this, even if it wasn’t grand or fancy.

you come back swiftly with a polaroid camera, already holding it up at an angle for a shot, “and to commemorate..”, you mutter. *ka-chiik* “..a polaroid selfie! i couldn’t prepare a gift for you so take this in the meantime!”.

“h-hey! why’d you just take that?!”, he accepts the polaroid with skepticism when you reply, “because you’d swat me away before i could even press the shutter! and that’d ruin the photo, no?”, to which sakura grumbles under his breath in response.

“plus…”, you trail off, “i wouldn’t be able to capture this look on your face otherwise~”, the blushing boy rolls his eyes before taking a look of the photo, that captured you holding a peace sign with a cheeky grin on your face, and his own figure just slightly behind yours, staring at the cupcake in his hands with a sort of childlike innocence within his gaze.

you laugh at his little trance as he stares down the polaroid, “you don’t look too bad sakura-kun~ i’m sure i got your good angle!”, you joke, little did you know he was in fact admiring you – with that carefree smile, like you were glad to be here with him celebrating his birth, in pretty much complete darkness with just a lamp post illuminating your surroundings, like you didn’t run all the way from the neighbourhood town and put together all this just to meet him.

he used to think his existence on this world was one big sick joke, considering his birthday being on the April Fool’s day. he’s been treated like such for all his life, until he came to this town, with its sickeningly kind people and sickeningly welcoming atmosphere, and you – the most revolting of all, just being with you makes his stomach turn, and he wants to run everytime he’s with you, try his hardest to prevent you from thinking he’s the repulsive one instead.

but you don’t, you don’t run and you don’t pretend like you’re scared either, the rawness of your sincerity makes his skin crawl and his heart ache, and your voice starts sounding inside his head, no.. you’re speaking to him right now-

“sakura-kun? sakura-kuun? does the cake look weird? the bakery i bought it from has a good reputation for their cakes though.. or is it too ugly? i was in a rush ya’know~ it would’ve turnd out better if i didn’t know of your birthdate last minute..!”, you cease your ramblings when you find sakura staring back at you now, your mouth opens and closes as you fight the decision to continue talking, or maybe you’ve been talking too much and he got annoyed..?!

“this petal… was from that tree over there right?”, he lightly jerks his head to the side, along with a quick glance to the fully bloomed cherry blossom tree rooted at the corner of the park, its branches extending long enough to shelter the swings that kids have made a competition to see who could swing high enough to kick.

“n-nooo…?”, his gaze continues to look past your blatant lies, forcing you to nod your head in shame.

“i thought it was cute.. considering your name…”

“that’s unhygienic (name).”

“i picked it off the branch!”

“that’s against the law.”

“this isn’t a public park!!”, you huff, “that's not important.". you collect yourself before speaking up again with an earnest gaze, "happy birthday haruka.” there it is, that soft call of his name that cuts as sharp as a knife, he’s still trying to get used to his name being called intentionally, being spoken to as a human being, as Sakura Haruka.

“i hope your wish comes true! and next time, i’ll definitely put together something big! promise me you’ll enjoy it!”, he replies with a dismissive affirmation and you returned home with a giddy step.

meanwhile sakura is left unmoved, mind slowly processing the fact that his wish did come true and converted into a steady warmth climbing up his neck, because he had wished to spend his next birthday with you.

‧˚₊⊹꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

a bell chimed and the gentle closing of the door echoed in the room momentarily drawing everyone's attention, before continuing their own conversations.

suo’s teasing resulted in sakura zooming out the establishment without looking back, completely missing the knowing smirk on his face.

“he’s meeting somebody. that sakura-kun.. ditching us for somebody else..”, suo feigns disappointment, shaking his head lightly to further prove his point.

“really?! you spied on his phone? is it (name)??”, nirei exclaims, reminded of the text message he’d replied of you asking for his whereabouts just a few moments ago and the continuous messages from you frantically devising a birthday plan, he realizes upon checking your private chat log now. a playful hum of affirmation from suo has the entire table giggling and covering their mouths with mock offense.

“he even went as far as to lie, knowing he’s terrible at it..”, kiryu adds, with a light tone, “must be a special person.”

notes ~ first time stylizing a header and i kinda messed up but it still looks good (?), first time including a text scene too, hope it wasn't too awkward ><

[lyinyao]

Sakura Day Countdown D-3 🌸🌸🌸

[lyinyao]

w.c. ~6.5k me? GONGAGA | (assasin) blade x gn!reader | warning for mild yandere, vague descriptions of injuries, red string of fate, everyone ships you and blade (guardian angel? more like boyfriend), reader fights for their life, xianzhou cast and stellaron hunters being stupid, silly as usual, skott is your (ex)fiance LUL💔exploring blade's past (some character study), reader implied to be yingxing's past lover reincarnated, a sidedish (whole lot) of angst, implied memory loss from mara

footnotes are included at the end of the post, including Chinese myths and proverbs :)

a/n: ignore the fact that the hair and eye is flipped😀and me using proper grammer? insane. happy 100+ followers!!! congrats again to blade for winning the poll, still the man of our dreams huhu BLADE SMOOCHERS LESGOOOOOO!!!

inspired by [touch within the abyss] (ILOVETHISMANGA SOMCUH), listening to [heavens official's blessing's] soundtrack while writing and editing was AMAZING omgg, and blade using butter knives as weapons was def taken from [black butler] lol

https://redstringservices.xzhou/homepage/requests/999

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Leave your request below. Reviews are uneccessary as all jobs are guaranteed to be well within the responder's capabilities.

Scrooooooll.

User 'Lacking_in_everything_but_muscles_General' has requested: Oho? A potential challenger to test the results of my training? Come, fight me! ↳ User 'XxEradicator_Of_Dust360xX' replied: Please stop using Jiaoqiu as a barbell. User 'grandpa!stop_doting_on_me' has requested: Uncle, can you find a pink-haired girl for me? She's skipping her training again... (；⌣̀_⌣́) Oh, leave her alive too, please. ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶ User 'Mr.ColdFeet' has left a review: Dearest customer, thank you for ordering the '10x "Belobogian-sourced" strawberry milk drink!! Here, I'll leave you a good review as token of my appreciation~ [Deleted by moderator] User 'HealerLadyIsTheBest1': Hey, how is this website legal?😡Cease your business at once, I'm getting too many patients! User 'mostsanestbladefan' has requested: rerun when💔 ↳ Mod 'SW#GU2055#addme' replied: lmao

... Seems trustworthy enough. Although, why is everyone talking as if this was a hiring for a hitman? Wasn't this a fortune teller who can alter red string fates? Bah, whatever. This may be your last chance of escape, and you are desperate.

You press the request button and start typing:

Guest_User#1002 has requested: Hello, may I ask to book a session for me and my insufferable-loser-of-a-fiance?

Ping! A reply already? A private chat has been created. You click on it.

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆' replied: Your full name.

You type it out.

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆' is typing...

...

...

They completely stop. "Huh?"

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆' is typing...

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆' is typing...

...

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆' replied: Sorry.

“Haha! I like to bully my subordinates, haha! Oink, oink– o–oops, f–force of habit,” Skott, yes, Lyndon Skott, your “insufferable-loser-of-a-fiance” wipes his mouth as if hoping to erase his words. If only it was possible to erase his entire existence too. “Anyways, fetch me my dog feed."

Out of all people, Skott is the worst possible candidate known to man. Stomach and back pains, cramps, coughs, sneezing. Every side effect ailed you anytime he did anything, as if you were an illness and the universe was trying to cough you out of its immune system.

“Here,” you say detachedly, handing it over.

Skott does a double-take. “This is... a ray gun? Where did you even get this?”

Oops. That was supposed to your last resort. “I think we're out, Skott. Your eating habits cost too much, even a dog doesn't eat twenty packs everyday.”

Skott suddenly stands up, hands on hips. “Why, you seem so tired,” Duh. “Well, it's nothing that I, Skott, the best possible candidate known to man, can't solve,” he pushes his lips together, leaning towards you. “C'mere... kissy kiss–”

You pinch his cheek before he could do anything. Skott whimpers pathetically. “I'm gonna go out and buy some dinner,” you grumble, immediately walking off.

“O–o-oink!”

Your phone blinks at you. You groan. Why did they ghost you? What's wrong with your name?

“Might as well buy more dog food too...” you mumble sourly, heading off to your usual supplier around the corner.

The store owner enthusiastically greets you, rubbing their hands together. “My, my, how lovely to see you again, my dear. Here to buy more food for your chihuahua? Haha, he sure does eat a lot for a small breed dog!”

You force a crooked smile, feeling crazy for having to lie about your fiance being a dog. “Yep... I'm here again... sadly.”

“Your chihuahua prefers wet food, right? Why don't you take a look at this new product? The texture of the loaf is incredibly soft—perfect for their jaws—which makes for easy consumption. High-quality lean meats mixed with fats, an ideal diet for a high-energy dog.”

Skott being as insane as he is would eat anything. “I'll try this one out.”

“Amazing!” The store owner beams, grinning. “Your boyfriend seems to agree too!”

“Boyfriend?” Did Skott follow you? No way. Skott doesn't walk; he marches to announce his presence with pride—there's no way you didn't hear his obnoxiously loud footsteps.

Ping! A chill runs down your back.

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆' replied: Behind you.

“AAAH!!” A sching! flies past your ears, a clear sound shot straight, streamlined, like a bullet. You dodge the sword aiming for your head, lodged in the wall against your back, dog food in hand. 

The pathway you escaped along reclined into the shadows the further you ran, a detached wing from the body of Aurum Alley. An abandoned passage. Yet, two pairs of footsteps treaded the ground—one too many.

“W-who are you? I’ve done nothing wrong! I make sure to eat all my veggies- OH!” you swivel in time to miss the sharp object that would’ve hit your ankle. You look down. “A butter knife?!”

“Why are you running from me?” the voice calls out.

“Why are you trying to kill me?!” you shout back. 

A pair of crimson eyes unravel behind the curtain of shadows. Highlighted with a target on your head, the spotlight shines on you, casted as the main character by this stranger.

They approach, way too close for your liking. A daunting waft of smoke and metal haunts the life out of the air, making it almost hard to breathe. Moonlight descends his hair, a silk ladder, ropes of dark strands rolling over his shoulders.

Stuck in a limbo with no escape. Great. “... Anything but the dog food... Skott throws a fit when he doesn't get his daily fix,” you mumble, pushing yourself onto the wall as far as you can, hoping to blend into it.

A smirk on his lips. A phone is suddenly shoved in your face. You groan at the brightness, cutting your vision into a thin strip of magnifying glass as you squint.

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆': Is this the target?

There's picture of you leaving the house.

Guest_User#1001 replied: Yes! Get'em already!!💥

“Me?” You cannot believe your eyes. “Someone requested a hit on me?”

Guest_User#1001: Teehee

You’ve tried everything to escape. Firstly, you ran around the neighbourhood like a headless chicken, yet his legs easily erased the distance, tormenting your back with his glare.

Attempted bribing with berrypheasant skewers? Failed. Songlotus cake? Nope. Steamed puffergoat milk? His eyes flicked to it for a moment. Almost. 

And throughout everything, all you heard was an onslaught of hmphs and grunts rolling boulders over you, crushing your dignity in mocking. Save for the one instance he muttered his name to you, Blade.

Qingque, your fellow co-slacker worker, points a finger behind you, her face puckered. “Who the hell is that?”

“Don’t mind him,” you groan. Surroundings swirl, doused in a liquor poured by the hand of your exhausted mind. “He’s just my assassin.”

“How are you saying that so casually??”

Blade is glued to your side even at your workplace, the Divination Commision. But you are more angry that nobody is mentioning why this very obvious outsider, who isn't even dressed in uniform and is holding a sword, is following you.

“Hey,” You walk up to a random colleague. “Does this guy not look crazy dangerous?” You point behind you.

“Hm?” They blink. “I thought he was your significant other?” ??? Everyone must be tricked by his beauty!

It's worse that Blade only scoffs, giving no closed answer to their question.

At your desk, Blade is judging you when you quickly switch your monitor off your Celestial Jade game when Fu Xuan enters. In the break room, where there's even less people around, he's shaving butter knives with his sword into weapons of mass destruction as you drink your tea.

Most ridiculously, anytime Qingque—or anyone—does as much as tap your shoulder, Blade brandishes his sword at them. Mumbling and grumbling something about, “they're mine, not yours(?)”

“Ohoho~ what a handsome boyfriend you have!"

“Jiaoqiu, you're facing the wrong way—we're behind you.”

Jiaoqiu, your local coriander supplier—and you, his coriander dumpster—slowly turns around, smiling, as if garbage sludged out of your mouth.

Sensing dread root in your guts, a cold sweat running its tap, you turn to Blade– “HOLY–” You dodge his sword in the nick of time. Blade clicks his tongue, drawing his eyebrows together. Tch. “Did you see that?! He tried to–”

“Ah, how kind of you.” You snap back to Jiaoqiu who is patting his chopping board.

Dumbfounded, you trace the sword that landed squarely on the chopping board, having sliced a once-large-pile of coriander finely. A precision awarded to well-trained chefs who specialise in food and not cutting people up.

“Wow, what a handsome and capable boyfriend. Just like a guardian angel. Ha. Ha.” Jiaoqiu nods in approval.

“You can't even see him.”

“Oh, right.”

You came home with twice the normal haul of coriander, gifted to Blade, who didn't need "such useless sentiments", and stuffed it into your bag. You threw some extra into Skott's dog food.

Moonlight uncovers two figures standing on the rooftops, watching.

“General, is that…” A voice trails off.

“Yes, there's no mistaking him.” Another voice.

“Join me, Yingxing. B◼◼◼◼n◼... she may still live this way. And you... you need to save them too, do you not?”

Yingxing, the name was spat, drawled, torn through teeth, pulverizing the skeletons of each letter, leaving its corpse that would not survive to become a living legend. 

Before his downfall, Yingxing was an exemplary but arrogant blacksmith under Huaiyan, and a member of the legendary High-Cloud Quintet. Drinking partners with D◼◼ ◼e◼◼, sparred with J◼◼◼l◼◼, smiled with B◼◼◼◼n◼, grew with Jing Yuan, who would bust his ears about there being one-thousand-three-hundred-and-fourteen gingko trees to ever live on the Xianzhou Luofu.

And finally, Yingxing was the lover of a free-spirit who walked the path of the Trailblaze. A love he was willing to risk for, because he could not afford to lose again after the devastation of his homeland.

Blade woke up, breathing away the vice around his neck, fingers opening and closing. Reaching for someone who was not there, a phantom. But they were his. They belonged to him. It's all he has, and he won't let go.

You decide to go to an actual fortune teller, explaining all the events until now.

Although they are masked with a hood, obscured in secretive shadows, the candle on the velvet-robed table carves out the frown on their face. “This sounds like a couple's bickering. And I do not want to be treated as a couple's therapist.”

“Why does everyone say that?! He's far removed from being my lover!” You could cough up blood.

“Then what's he doing here?”

“Who?”

Ping!

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆': Behind you.

Surely not– “AAAH!” you shout, almost having a heart attack. Sure enough, Blade is standing behind you, arms crossed.

“Stop running,” he demands.

“So you can kill me? Nu-uh,” you taunt.

The fortune teller clears their throat. "If you want me to trace your red string, I can do so," they direct the conversation. "Red strings of fate are divined by Yue Lao¹, and are hard to alter as it moulds one's fate."

“So, what does it look like?” You hold up your pinky.

The fortune teller is silent for a moment, rubbing their forefinger against their thumb, testing the unsteady fabric that weaves the air. The both of you are dressed under a skirt of silence until they stop entirely. Tension frays its string, ready to snap.

They share a glance between you and the person looming behind. A long sigh in front of you. A small chuckle behind you. “You really are sure he's not your boyfriend?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” You look at Blade. He looks back. You stare. He turns his face away.

Couples event! Lovebirds get a whopping 50% discount off our menu!

A brilliant idea pops in your head. “Blade, I know we're not on the best terms but– AH?!” You dodge a butter knife. The blade lands by the feet of a young woman, with orange hair tied into a ponytail, who almost collided into you with her tripod.

Blade already knows from the shine in your eyes. “Ridiculous.”

Bring your plus one to our story-telling theatre! Pay the price of one ticket for the value of two!

“How about this one?”

“Absurd.” Blade pulls you away, your feet dragging along. A short, green hair girl had barely missed setting you on fire with her tail.

Buy one-get-one-free steamed puffergoat milk for lovers! Come as two, and leave satisfied as two!

You hand the free cup of steamed puffergoat milk to Blade. "You're a fan of this, huh?"

Hmph. He takes it, face turned away. You think it's the trick of the lanterns, but a dust of red seems to colour Blade's ears.

This will be my breakthrough, Yanqing thought excitedly, General will certainly rely on me more if I catch this sneaky man!

“Boo!”

“AAAH! Y-Yunli?”

Yunli latches onto Yanqing's shoulders, who is hiding behind a wall, observing you and Blade who are sitting at a table outside a restaurant. Blade refills your teacup without you noticing. “Whatchu hiding?”

“Nothing,” Yanqing brushes Yunli off like dust. “Just on a mission.”

Yunli hums, stifling a smile. “Hmm... I'll watch your back then.”

Yanqing nods, straightening his back, and marching towards the table like a soldier. Yunli will be entertained by this for centuries, and will be rolling in her grave thinking about it.

A cough for attention. You slowly look up, meeting a blonde boy in blue clothes.

“Jing Yuan's kid…” A flash of recognition in Blade's eyes. “Did he order you? How bothersome.”

“Of my own accord, I came to arrest you”—Blade stuffs a piece of youtiao in Yanqing's mouth, a spoonful of congee to chase, and a bite of tofu pudding to finish—“Mm, good food.”

“You need to grow taller," Blade says. "Tch. What's Jing Yuan doing with you?”

“Excuse you,” Yanqing says, offended, taking a seat at the table.

“Should I order more?” you ask, confused. Was Blade always good with kids? It's kinda cute.

Behind the wall, Yunli rubs her temple. “Yanqing... were you that hungry to forget your mission?”

“I have to go, Yingxing. The Express is calling my name.”

“Ridiculous. Just stay here, you don't need them. Is there an imperative rule demanding you to board?”

A shake of their head. “Our lives are drastically different,” the voice choked out, “you have a past here with fond memories and companions. You belong in Xianzhou Luofu. But me, I have yet to lay my home.”

He scoffs. “You mean to say that you do not love me as much as you thought?”

“I love you most to search you out before anyone else. And I have loved you too much by entering your world when I shouldn't, knowing that this would happen.”

“Why are you leaving only now, when I have even fewer years to live? Will you not allow me to spend my last dregs of life with you?” Or does he have to force them himself?

“... I do not want to see you draw your last breath,” an inhale. “You would understand too, if you were also a long-lived species. Having to watch loved ones lose to time again and again, it never gets easier.”

How ridiculous, Blade thought, blinking away sleep as he stands guard outside your house, that he would end up in their exact situation.

Since the visit to the fortune teller, Blade's assassination attempts have been null. A change of heart? How charismatic you are. But then why is he still carrying your bags and listening to your rambles? And why is he swatting away people who get too close to you?

You can't bring yourself to ask him so you keep walking ahead, doing random things with your arms to distract yourself. Isn't this like... having a boyfriend? You slap your face.

Blade watches your back, tracing the flex of your body when you stretch, the snippet of your smile when you turn your head to the side, you looking back to check if he is still here.

Blade rarely demonstrates himself with his face. But if he were to release the tense muscles that he forces to stiffen, you'd realise that he's been holding back a smile all along.

He watches you for a bit longer, letting the script unwind past. The future is cast in stone, but dripping water can penetrate the rock with enough time.²

...

...

... Click, click.

Heels click down a corridor, purple hair tousled over her shoulder. She stops in front of double doors. Darkness throws its hunter's net, trapping, a natural selection in place to filter in only those who live to survive.

“Hmm, I see,” the woman echoes. “Yes, in Xianzhou currently.”

“Change of plans? Bladie would... Blade stays true to his name—there's no one he can't cut down.”

“I understand.” A small chuckle. “My regards, dearest Elio.”

“You again?” Blade grumbles, offering Yanqing no more than a short glance. He lends a levitating hand just behind your back as you walk up the hill. “What? Hungry?”

Yanqing points at Blade. “I'm here to arrest you!”

“For what?” you ask, looking back. You notice something quickly retracts, but everything looks pretty normal. Perhaps it was just a bug flying.

Yanqing throws his hands in the air. “He's an assassin!”

“Oh, I forgot about that.” You suddenly have a hard time looking at Blade. In your defense, he's been pretty nice lately. But catching him staring at you? You'll have to get used to that.

Just behind a tree, two people huddle together, cautiously sneaking glances.

“Firefly, why is he smiling like that behind their back? What's with that disgustingly sweet look??”

“I have no idea Silverwolf... isn't that what lovers do?”

Silverwolf tilts her head, tapping absentmindedly on her phone. “Blade... I haven't seen him like that.” She observes the smile peeking on Blade's face, hiding from sight as he stands behind you. As always. “We're supposed to help him with this mission as per Kafka's command, but…”

Firefly, with her gaze, draws along Silverwolf's line of vision, studying. “He must be happy here,” she says. “Oh, I'll miss his driving…”

“Who's a good boy~” you coo, scratching a stray puppy's head. The puppy closes its eyes, tongue wagging.

Blade crouches near you, watching you shower the puppy with affection, completely forgetting him. The dog looks at him, tilting its head. Hmph. “Annoying.”

“Why is that your first word of the day?!”

You see a sliver of a smile as Blade casts his gaze down.

Picking the puppy up, you hand it to Blade who awkwardly holds it in the air. You laugh. “Wouldn't it be so cute if this puppy stayed like this forever?” you say to no one in particular.

Blade pauses, hair slightly dancing in the wind, crested in golden gingko leaves. He finally says, “An eternity is of the same weave as an abyss, to never see an end. Yet, if all lived forever...”

Blade looks up at the gingko canopy, wistful, stern. But he looks at you with a soft crease in his eyes, lifted ever so slightly by the cheeks.

"I... would not mind it."

You hum, studying his face. Trying to distract the heat caressing your cheeks by thinking a million thoughts.

“But this puppy has so much to explore,” you say, taking the puppy into your lap. “Being stuck in one place for so long, the steps we take will always loop back.” You brush the gingko leaves off Blade's hair.

“If I stayed in the same spot with that insufferable-loser-of-a-fiance, and never messaged you, well, we wouldn't have met, right?”

A beat in his chest. Savoured as it ripples through his body. Alive. Blade closes his eyes, feeling the breeze run its hand through his hair, the pulse in your fingers. You were alive too. Opens his eyes.

“... Ridiculous,” he simply replies.

Shuhu's flesh. It writhed, beating its last breath in Yingxing's hand. His other hand drew along a cold arm. One he has touched many times when it was warmer. A mortal separated from their immortal lover, a retelling of Hou Yi and Chang'e.³

A love he was willing to risk for, because he could not afford to lose again, he renewed that vow. A burst of pain, a golden disease invading. A bloodlust riveted.

I hope that in your next life, you will never wish for freedom again.

May fate bind us with its thread and suffocate us until we have to share our breaths through parted mouths, mistake whose hands are whose, and dig our fingers into each other's backs, melting into flesh, draw blood to malnourish the body of weight, just to fit into each other's arms. Because even if I torment your dreams, crush your future, or tangle your tongue until you can't speak, at least, that way, you always have to think of me. 

Hate eventually bleeds into obsession, and obsession will consume your every thought until you can't move. In that case, detest with all your heart, blacken me in your mind, and bite my hand when I try to feed; it will only make me love you more.

Stay where I can see you, or be chained to me forcefully... I will not lose you again.

...

...

...

When he awoke again, his body was pierced many times over.

"Remember the feeling of death," Her hair skimmed the moon's surface, an arc of the sword that glimmered silver, as if cycling through the lunar phases in a swift strike, and bloodred eyes. "And bring it to them."

Wounds mended and healed, tightened and closed. His new body is a seamster that weaves the fabric of his skin to fit his flesh again, a blacksmith that hammers out the steel and reforges it into a blade once more.

He does not come back to life—the joy of creation long forgotten in the face of death that has strangled everything else—a dead man walking. Laid his body on a bed of red spider lilies, the petals weeping on his clothes—or, was it a pool of blood? Doesn't matter.

The mara worked strangely on him—memories seldom passed by in his mind. Yet, this person crossed that boundary, weaved inside his head.

A face drifted along the tides of his mind, drowning and resurfacing every few seconds as he tried to fish the fragments. The scales shine, a bright smile, the tails flap, his hand weaved into another, the fins slither, laughter. Like carps, persevering past the strong waves of his mara.

He must've loved them so strongly to the point that it brewed hatred. A desire to blind them with his affection, and then mangle their limbs, so that the last thing they would ever feel was his selfish love.

Blade took you home as you sleeped in his carry, eyeing Skott intensely and scaring the man to make way. He draped you on your bed. It was too long since he's seen you so peaceful and... Blade stopped his fingers from feathering the rim of your lips.

Why couldn't he keep you here? Be chained to him, just stay here, you don't need anyone else. Crush you until you rely on him. This is where you're meant to be, right next to him.

His head lowered for a moment before he got up.

His words to Skott: "You're dead the moment you disturb them," Blade warned as he approached the cowering man. "Or, should I dispose of you here after what you put them through?"

Skott never returned home since, presumably ran away.

Blade went out and walked along Central Starskiff Haven. A simple thing caught his eye—a bobbin of blue string. And then—

"May I have a word with you?" Blade recognised that voice: Jing Yuan

...

...

...

“It was the same then, and the same now; you are fixated on the past.”

Blade studies Jing Yuan. Studies the carp swimming in the water, looking down. “Just skip to what you want to say.” Blade had little patience for the man who knew about the price of sin, yet said nothing.

Jing Yuan shakes his head, leaning on the railing of the bridge, looking up. He will savour every second of this meeting, one he had waited too long for. “Life is finite, grains of sand that slip through fingers. Fragile—for a reason—we are not meant to last forever. Even for us long–lived species, the mara is a cap screwed tightly to stop us, poised to spiral our memories into oblivion.”

Blade could almost laugh. This person before him, who used to reach only his shoulders, now was teaching him.

“Do you think it was only you who suffered all this time?” Jing Yuan frowns, frustrated. His shoulders shake. “We were separated. But the bonds we created last beyond a meeting. And I have have kept our companions in my heart. This way, they are always with me.”

“Fate may be predestined, but when the heart is moved, it becomes unforgettable.⁴”

Fate does not pity. Cruel yet kind at times, it does not know of its own recklessness, which must be why fate executes its job so easily. It feels no empathy.

But, it's exactly this reason why fate can never touch human connections. It does not understand the heart, therefore, what humans use it for are ultimately decisions that they make themselves. Fate is all-seeing, but not all-knowing.

“Hah…” Blade exhales. Words he didn't want from Jing Yuan, but needed to hear.

“And—” Jing Yuan winces, clutching his forehead. His eyes are watery, having recalled something yet lost it at the same time. A small silence. “Apologies, they say... that you are nearing the brink of death when memories start flashing at you, for the last time. Must be true... haha.”

Blade is wordless, fingers digging into palm. “Don't spout nonsense. Save your breath.”

Jing Yuan laughs, knowing that this is Blade's way of caring, the same as he used to, before saying, “I see all five of us. Underneath the gingko trees, where we met…”

Gingko trees... those words stood out. Jing Yuan would always... “Gingko trees... how many are there?” Blade asks, looking at Jing Yuan.

Jing Yuan's eyes are open in surprise, unexpecting the question. His mouth moves but does not mutter, on the edge of words, before saying with that lazy grin of his, “How would I know the answer to that?”

Blade walks along the rainy path to your home. Along the gingko trees, past the river flowing carps along, to a door that is open, ready to welcome. But before he could, he felt a presence. “Kafka.”

“Bladie, Elio's a tad bit disappointed,” Kafka steps out of the shadows, holding a black umbrella. “You were talking to General Jing Yuan. But what does he know?”

Blade lets the rain devour her voice. Kafka walks towards him, still wearing her smile. It is often that Blade cannot read her concealed expression. She fondles with something behind her back.

Blade's limbs are speared in place. Spirit Whisper. He steps back—

“Listen to me. I will say the words you truly want to hear.”

“Your desires, why have you been suppressing their demands? Who are you trying to protect them from? They won't live long this time, so make the most of it. Take it all. This is your part of the script.”

Crush. Chain. Claim. The words inject its needle into Blade, piercing skin. Relieving. It feels like a cure, a medicine, his treatment. This is what he needs. The mara suddenly blooms its branches, ripping into his head, splintering it with an agonising pain. Clouds gather its dark feathers, pluming over Xianzhou with its wing-like embrace.

“Sorry, Bladie. I must do this. They were supposed to be dead long ago,” she says these final words, passing him with a smile, sad eyes, before turning into nothing more than another percussive instrument in the orchestra of rain.

...

...

...

Ping! ...

User 'Blade' is typing...

User 'Blade' is typing...

...

User 'Blade': You are mine.

You woke up to darkness placing its blindfold over you, sat on cold ground. Sweat trickles down your neck that bobs up and down, trying to breathe—to live. A musk repeating smoke and metal.

Taking another deep breath, you try to stand up but are immediately dissuaded by the nagging on your wrist, chained. The blindfold slips from the jolt.

“You're trying to escape me again.”

Suddenly, you are pulled into an embrace from behind, your back pressed on a chest. He is cold against your engulfed body—ice against fire. Designed by nature to sabotage one another, destined never to find each other. Caused by a sinner's karmic debt. “Blade, y-your arms...”

Small gingko branches perforate through his skin, the leaves thrumming to his slow breath. Red pearls roll down his arms, as if unhitched from a broken necklace. You notice the deep lacerations that dig past even further than where the branches grew from, as if someone has been trying to gouge them out.

Blade watches you, muttering as little words as possible to save breath, “It'll heal.”

You trace his arm with your finger. The wounds are caught in ebb and flow, between the stricken trauma and the regenerative tissues. Gradually, the bloody gap bridges his flesh together, an infrastructure built and painted over with his skin. “What...?” Your hand retracts but Blade catches it.

“Leaving me again?”

You search for his face, aching. Dark eye circles hung low, Blade is exhausted and just as afraid of what he's become. His hands glides along your arms, landing just above the back of your hands, before lacing his fingers into the crooks. He didn't want to hurt you, and you feel that fragility through the press of his lips on your neck.

“I won't,” you reassure, letting his weight stamp onto you.

His shoulders squeeze in, appearing smaller. As if trying to merge with you so that he may live inside. Know you inside out. Claim. His hand tighten around yours, subduing his desires.

Blade shakes his head, lips dragged down by the weight of the torrent he is trying to suppress inside him. He traces Kafka's words. “I abhor you…”

“You're lying... because eventually you will.”

“What makes you say that?”

“This is the price I pay,” he mutters, “I have willed life into an impossible existence, and I must witness how that very life ends.”

The law of equivalent exchange; to obtain what you so desire, an equal value must be given in return. And life and death always follow each other as equals.

Words disintegrate, melting on the tongue, as fragile as snow falling on skin. You replay the frown on Blade's face, his twitching eyebrows. An animation, flicking its pages in your mind, and your heart leaves it to loop over, and over. You lower your head, hesitant. You didn't understand what he was saying. But it feels like he's talking to you.

He is stood at the edge of the cliff, and you are the last push. But you didn't want him to let go yet.

“Then, it's our fault for choosing each other. Bound not by fate, but by choice, and by heart. And if we don't have much time, then let's use every second of it.”

Blade hears Jing Yuan's words in them. He also hears someone else's words. A final flash of another memory. And then, he repeats your voice that said the words. It comforts him, resting the pain to sleep. The gingko leaves fall, ripened. Maybe it were these words he was waiting for all along—to let him know that he can belong next to you after his sin.

There is no use dwelling on the past. He who blames others has a long way to go on his journey; he who blames himself is halfway there; he who blames no one has arrived.⁵ When moments can be spent with you now, the present becomes hopeful.

Kafka's shackles fade. Spring will come again.

Blade unchains the cuff on your wrist, soothing the red marks with his kisses. He fetches something from his pockets—a bobbin of blue string. Softly takes your pinky, intertwined with his, and he begins wrapping the thread around them. You watch him quietly, heart pounding. The knot is tied.

“Let me keep you for a little longer,” Blade whispers, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I'll let you go after this, I promise.” To sever the string.

You mould into him, and the seamster sewed your stitch into the embroidery, the blacksmith modelled the sword in your shape.

Guest_User#1001: I am expecting good results.

Blade sighed, throwing his phone on the bed. That name they gave, it looked familiar. Nevertheless, he had a job to do.

Guest_User#1002 has requested: Hello, may I ask to book a session for me and my insufferable-loser-of-a-fiance?

... What a coincidence. Blade scoffed.

Tracing your location, he found your home. The first time he saw you, he recognised instantly, and memories began flashing.

“Why are you running from me?”

“Why do you have a sword?!”

“Jiaoqiu, you're facing the wrong way—we're behind you.”

“You really are sure he's not your boyfriend?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Tch. What's Jing Yuan doing with you?”

“Excuse you,”

“If I stayed in the same spot with that insufferable-loser-of-a-fiance, and never messaged you, well, we wouldn't have met, right?”

“Life is finite, grains of sand that slip through fingers. Fragile - for a reason—we are not meant to last forever.”

“Your desires, why have you been suppressing their demands? Who are you trying to protect them from?”

“I will lock you here for eternity. I will never let you go.”

No, these weren't memories. This was a slither of the future that Elio granted him. The original ending that was supposed to fit Blade.

But Blade had changed the end. He had changed fate with you, by his own choice.

...

Ping!

User 'Blade': In front of you.

You look up from your phone, grinning. Blade smiles at you, walking over. You trace the bandage around his arms, where the mara sprouted. "How is it?"

"I'm fine," he replies, "this will not dull my mastery with a sword. Come." He links his pinky with yours. There is no time to waste.

Aurum Alley blossoms with gingko leaves, vessels for auspicious happiness. Qingque waves at you, having reserved a large table by a restaurant. The signature aroma of Jiaoqiu's spices whet the appetite, Moze swiping the dishes away from Feixiao, Jing Yuan leaning his chin on his palm, dozing, and Yanqing and Yunli playing around Blade. Silverwolf and Firefly said their goodbyes.

“Good thing Master Fu Xuan is in a meeting,” Qingque fills your teacup. “And if she questions me, I can just use General Jing Yua–”

"Qingque," Anyone can recognise that voice. “Jing Yuan, you too... and,” She looks at you. You gulp. “You level one-hundred slacker-offs!”

“Lady Fu~ come join us.” Jing Yuan pats a seat.

However, Fu Xuan, with scrunched eyebrows, suddenly grabs your wrist, scruntinising the pinky. As if it's missing something. She looks at Blade, unsettled. “Your string... it's been…” Blade looks at her, quiet. Fu Xuan then shakes her head, giving a sad smile. “So that's your choice. I'm not a couple's therapist, but... I wish good luck to the both of you.”

You are left confused, but Fu Xuan would glare at you if you pushed it further. “He'll tell you one day,” she said.

After the chaotic meal, you all parted ways. A sea of stars reflect the fishes worming under the translucent skin of the river bank, a mirror. Thoughts race in your head, thinking of everything that happened. You rub your pinky.

The red string of fate, a myth that weaves couples together. But you never needed it anyways. Not a red one, at least.

“Blade,” you begin, turning around.

“You were protecting me all along, weren't you?”

Blade looks at you, lending his ears.

“That time when you dragged me away from the orange-haired lady who was about to collide into me, same with the girl with the fiery tail that could've killed me.

When we were climbing that hill with Yanqing, I swear you had your hand behind me. It was to catch my fall, wasn't it?

And that time where you were injured—the mara, it's called—it felt like you were holding yourself back.”

Blade smirks. “You've been watching me?”

You smile. “You're like my guardian angel.”

In those few words, Blade witnesses the last flash of memories.

He remembered. And Blade knew then, that Yingxing was trying to move on. Traces of him were left—Yingxing's intense desires—but ultimately, everything was Blade's choice.

The past would stop haunting him. He is Blade, just as you are you. Not photographed to a fleeting memory, but living in a present time. Left with a body to fill with new memories, he now looks to the future.

A dull ache tugs in his chest, a pain so suffocating. His arms wrap around you.

Watching you laugh, cry, be angry, to keep you safe so that you can grow old, and he will love every second of you. Until you draw that last breath, and then preserved in his mind, so you may live on forever this way—immortal in his memories, until the mara grants him finality.

https://redstringservices.xzhou/homepage/requests/999

This site is closed for an indefinite period. Go away.

User 'Lacking_in_everything_but_muscles_General' has requested: Does anyone know where the person managing the website went? They haven't offered me a duel yet :( ↳ User 'HealerLadyIsTheBest1' replied: Good riddance! ↳ User 'Spice-and-Rice-is-Life!xox' replied: Feixiao, if you don't stop adding coriander to my broth, you will end up in the next meal I cook!!! User 'v1ral_m4ster_of_lif3-stre@ms': Oooh, a haunted website!! Let's make a video about this at Fyxestroll Garden, stat! @UserHuohuo @UserSushang @UserHanya @UserXueyi @UserYukong @UserLingsha @UserFugue @UserSunday @GalacticBaseballer111 @UserDanHeng ↳ UserDanHeng#1003 replied: Why am I here? ↳ UserLingsha#1004 replied: Why am I here? ↳ UserYukong#1005 replied: Why am I here? ↳ UserHanya#1007 replied: Why am I here...? (also asking on Xueyi's behalf) ↳ UserFugue#1008 replied: Haha, why not~ ↳ User 'GalacticBaseballer111' replied: Thanks for the invite! Still dead tho^^ ↳ UserSunday#1009 replied: ...? User 'grandpa!stop_doting_on_me' has requested: Uncle Blaaade, let's plaaaay huhu (╯︵╰,) ↳ User 'My_life_is_for_wielding_swords' replied: General Jing Yuan invited you to play starchess with us, wanna join? Invite March 7th too, we need to keep up her training! Guest_User#1001 left a review: WORST HITMAN EVEEEEER!!! YOU THREATENED ME AND TOOK MY PARTNEEER!!! User 'celstialjademylove10': Wait, that guy really was an assassin??? [Deleted by commenter] ↳ UserFuXuan#1010 replied: Qingque, slacking off are we? ↳ User 'celstialjademylove10' replied: ohshizzles [Deleted by commenter] Mod 'Let'sSetOurHeartsAblaze!': Farewell Blade, until we meet again~ Kafka (and me- and SW here😎) gives you two her regards! Mod 'SW#GU2055#addme': welp the story ends here ig. gg guys lets meet in the next story🤫

“Yingxing, do you know the myth of Yue Lao?”

“An old man who sits under the moon, tying the red string of fate for couples who are meant to find each other,” A melodic laugh, intertwining their pinky with his, wrapped in string. “But... even if Yue Lao did not destine for us to be together, as different as we are... a mortal and... a long-lived.” The knot tightened. A sad but knowing look. They continue,

“I believe it is much more powerful that we have loved each other of our own will, without the gods, deities, or aeons. A freedom and choice, entirely derived from our hearts. We love each other for who we are, not because it was meant to be. A love as natural as the carps along the river flow.”

“And with all the autonomy we had, untouched by divine power, I am so happy that you came back to me every time. As if tied by our very own red string—or, perhaps, our blue string.”

“Bound not by fate, but by choice, and by heart.”

footnotes

Yue Lao - god of marriage and love in Chinese mythology, who appears to people as a old man under the moon. Carries the "red string of fate" to tie the destinies of couples who are meant to be together.

“Dripping water can penetrate the stone.” - proverb about how perseverance can help overcome obstacles.

Chang'e and Huo Yi - in Chinese mythology, Chang'e drank the immortality elixir, taken from her husband, the legendary archer Hou Yi. As a result, Chang'e was separated from her mortal lover, residing on the moon for eternity with her Jade Rabbit.

“Fate is predestined, but when the heart is moved, it’s unforgettable.” - proverb about how true connections that last beyond a fated meeting are what make the encounter unforgettable.

“He who blames others has a long way to go on his journey. He who blames himself is halfway there. He who blames no one has arrived.” - proverb about accepting the situation and moving past.

a/n: what if i wrote a time-skip epilogue so everyone can cry. what then. since blade is an older character, he has a lot of development. i tried my best to incorporate most of his story ^^ i teared up thinking abt the high cloud quintet, they were such a cute family before tragedy striked :( they were raising jing yuan, but jing yuan being the only one to have made it out made me even sadder :(( ALSO i apologise to any skott fans huhu. husband!skott but you're having an affair w blade forbidden love WATCH ME IM IM IMGON DO ITT!!!!1! im out of words now. i will now attempt to type the alphabet with my eyes closed. abcdefhjidkl,mnpqweribcxyd (i suck) thanks for reading!!🎀

[lyinyao]

it's always a good time for ice cream! 🍡🍧🍨🍦

[lyinyao]

i'm so stacked up on exams right now but TRUST i WILL pump out something for sakura's birthday 🤞

[lyinyao]

ON MY KNEES FOR YOU

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ height difference makes your feet hurt. too bad for you, your boyfriend is toma hiragi. fluff, fluff, and fluff! hiragi’s kind of an asshole in this one. fem reader, uses of pet names (princess), soft hiragi agenda. not proofread i wrote this in an airport.

to love someone is to accept them wholly, in physicality, mind, and soul. yet, as much as you loved the vaisravana unit’s commander and one of the four heavenly kings… there was something about his body that tremendously pissed you off.

your boyfriend toma hiragi was tall. way too damn tall.

and as much as you prayed to every god and deity out there that your one and only be tall, you now scream internally as the stabbing pain in your feet and the growing cramps on your calves made you realize that height differences aren’t what you imagined.

your complaints fell on deaf ears.

because to toma hiragi, leaning down a tad is a ‘total hassle’. not that he’d ever admit it, but he found joy in seeing you struggle, squirming as you attempt to climb up his body as if it were a tree, as you had given up trying to bring his head down towards you.

to give hiragi some credit, he did help. once he felt a single ounce of guilt, his hands moved towards your thighs, easily lifting you up so that his lips can meet yours in a rough, passionate kiss.

the routine was getting tiring. you swore you would inherit your boyfriend’s stomach issues from how stressed you had become.

it was then when your boyfriend asked you on a date at the park. the setting was beautiful; a warm sunset, freshly cut grass and set of swings practically inviting you to rest easy and relax.

and to some extent, you did.

at a first glance, a park might not seem like the type of place to go and open up, but hiragi did not think of it like that. it was the place where he felt he could spill every word that surged in his mind, every feeling that came with every thump of his heart, and every goal and worry that he has for the future.

it seemed inappropriate to put a stop to this in order to complain, especially when your boyfriend unveiled his heart and soul to you. when your boyfriend stood up from his swing, you knew confessionals were over, and it was time to go home.

you stood up after him, seeing his hand open towards you and waiting for yours to intertwine itself with his. hiragi was not surprised when you pulled him towards you, your face tilted upwards to look up at him. he could bet a million yen that he could accurately guess your next words.

“ragi, give me a kiss.”

hiragi could have been a millionaire by now.

“sorry, princess” he teased, lifting his heels off the floor as he stood on the tips of his toes. “you know it ain’t that easy, you hafta work for it.”

“toma, please.”

“ooh, first name? it’s that serious?”

you didn’t answer, instead walking towards him and grabbing his shoulders. with one swift movement, your hand was now on his upper back, pushing him forward, your right leg kicking his kneepit.

hiragi was on his knees, eyes widened in shock as he processed the wet feeling the grass provided him.

“toma, you’re too tall and it hurts a lot to be on my tippy toes to do anything with you. if you don’t lean down i will literally kick you. i don’t care how many times you scrape your knees, i will patch them up for you. i don’t care if your ass gets flat and hurts from sitting down all the time to even look at me, i love you for who you are and not for how you look and your hot looks are a bonus—just—for the love of god, lean down.”

toma hiragi was speechless. utterly, and completely speechless.

for the first time, he leaned his face upwards to meet your gaze. a small smile dared to spread across his face as he raised his hand to cup your cheek.

“m’sorry princess, i didn’t mean ta make my girl feel like that” he apologized, “i’ll make it up to ya, i swear.”

his gaze softened as he raised his hands towards his neck, unclasping his necklace and guiding it towards your neck, letting go once he clasped it shut. you felt your cheeks grow hot as your boyfriend’s smile grew bigger.

“don’t think yanking me by the collar’s gonna work now” he grinned, “i want you to keep that, okay?”

you looked down at your neck, fingers carefully holding the silver medallion that now hung on your neck. it looked different than before, though…

a little ‘h’ was carved into it.

“i’ll lean down for ya more often, alright?” he assured, “if it means i get to show ya that i love ya, i’ll do it. don’t have a ring with me yet, but this’ll do for now. got it carved for ya a few weeks ago.”

the one who was speechless was now you, as your boyfriend’s index and middle fingers got ahold of your necklace, pulling you down into a sweet kiss.

[lyinyao]

My Girlfriend Faked Her Amnesia (Wen Junhui)

Reverse Trope Series Installment 4

It wasn’t always that life gave one the chance to hit reset, but now that Jun had gotten it, he didn’t have long before time ran out - 10 days to valentine's day which meant 10 chances to make his amnesiac girlfriend remember him again. But it wasn’t going to be a cakewalk - after all, how could one be reminded of the past if they were only pretending to forget?

Pairing - Wen Junhui x afab! Reader

Word Count- 29k

Genre - Heavy angst, romance, hurt comfort, mild humor and as usual, yes, smut - This piece is lowkey inspired by the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind!

Warnings - Car accident, mentions of blood, memory loss, hospital setting

A/n - Hello my loves! This is my bit for the Lonely Hearts Cafe Collab hosted by the wonderful @camandemstudios, my first ever collab! Please do also check out the stories by all the other writers - everyone has been working super hard on this! I hope you enjoy this piece and leave your thoughtsss :) To be added to the reverse tropes taglist, please comment under this post :)

Smut warnings - This is only the first half (12k) of the story and there is no smut in it yet. Warnings will be added for the second half!

The End: 27th December 2024 

"Careful!" 

You quickly swerved to the side of the road, the car screeching to a stop as the honking truck zoomed past you.

Fuck. Gripping the steering wheel tight, you let out a sigh of relief, your wandering thoughts returning to the present. That was close. 

The man beside you mumbled something under his breath as he unbuckled his seatbelt before alighting the car and opened your door, wordlessly asking you to get out.

You complied, allowing him to take over your role as the driver and quietly slid in the passenger seat.

Adjusting the mirror he glanced up and down the snow clad road before driving off into the darkness. Again, without saying a word. 

That's how things had been between the two of you for a while now. Silent. 

Some might say that after nearly 10 years of being together, the two of you didn't need words to communicate anymore, you just understood each other so well. But only you knew the reality - there was nothing left to say. Everything was at the edge of falling apart. 

You glanced down at your hands, fingers fidgeting. Yes it was cold but it was the emptiness that bothered you. 

Your boyfriend shot you a look before his hand hovered over the controls of the car. 

"Are you feeling cold?" 

See, he didn't understand. He never seemed to understand. And you were tired of explaining but a tiny voice in your head said to try just once more. 

"My mum was asking why there's no ring yet?" Caressing the fingers of your left hand, you looked up, far off at the skies where the morning sun still hadn't made its way up. 

“And what did you say?” 

You turned to him, not hiding the incredulous expression donning your face, “What am I supposed to say Jun?” He looked straight ahead, eyes more focused on the road than required. “How does one answer a question like this?” 

His Adam's apple bobbed with his gulp. “That....we’re not ready?” 

“And looking at us, who will buy that?” 

Jun kept quiet again, perhaps because he knew you were right.

The two of you had been together for the majority of your lives which meant your families, friends, colleagues all were a consistent witness of your relationship. Even over the last week, when you were spending Christmas with your family at the ski cabin, your sister wouldn’t stop talking about how you two were perfect for one another. She didn’t know that behind closed doors, in the privacy of your room, the two of you slept with your backs facing each other.

Jun sighed, noticing you were getting lost in your thoughts again. “Why do we have to justify ourselves to anyone anyways Y/n? This is our life-” 

“You’re right, there’s no need to justify anything to anyone. But you can tell me why, right?” You half turned towards him, leaning against the car door. “You and I can talk about why we’re nearing our thirties and still haven’t made any decision about getting married?” 

“Jesus, twenty five is not considered thirties Y/n." He rolled his eyes exasperated. "Besides, what does age have to do with marriage? Getting married should be something that we decide because we want to spend our lives with each other.”

You blinked at him. “Then do you not want to spend your life with-”

“I did not say that.” He glanced at you before quickly looking back at the road. “Of course, I do. Baby, you and I live together, we do everything together, we are as good as married-”

“So then a wedding would just be a formality right-”

“No, it would be a show!” You flinched a little as he raised his voice, annoyed. “It would be to show the world something, to prove to others that we are committed and will last through it all, as though signing a few documents is a guarantee of that.”

“Marriage isn’t just about that Jun. Do you have any idea how many things will become easier - buying a house, getting loans, so many logistics-”

He scoffed, shaking his head slowly. “That’s what marriage is to you? A practical, logical, legal binding?” 

Biting your lower lip you let out a deep breath. “If you think it should mean much more or that it should be made purely on emotions then what’s stopping you? Or do you not love me anymore-”

“Why would you say that?” He groaned, like he was tired of this conversation. “I do love you, more than anything. Which is why I want you to be able to focus on yourself without taking the burden of a marriage. I want you to fulfill all the dreams you have for your career, for your professional growth-”

“Jun, I can do all of that while being married too-”

“Marriage changes people! It changes priorities, it changes expectations-”

“So that’s what you’re afraid of? Expectations? Because I expect you to be a bit more responsible? To get your act together-”

“It won’t stop at that will it?” He sighed. “This is all our life is going to be - First it’ll be about dividing household chores, who’ll do dishes, who’ll take out the trash. Next it’ll be about finding the perfect house and having children-” 

“We’ve talked about this and you said you didn’t have a problem with having children Jun.” You snapped at him, triggered at his words. “I’m not getting any younger here-”

“And I’ve not grown up!” He slammed the wheel with his hand. “I do want to have kids someday but not now, not any time soon. I… I can barely look after myself, how am I going to look after a child? And if I’m incapable it will mean that you will have to carry the burden of it all - of raising the child, of me and of yourself and I don’t want that for you.”

You fell silent again, realising that the conversation was going just like it always did.

You would go on to insist that you were ready for whatever was to come and the time was right now, Jun would insist that he isn’t willing to let you take on so much and that marriage shouldn’t be about timing, it should be about wanting to be with each other. You would then claim he’s being too emotionally driven about this and he would claim that you were being too practical and the conversation would just be about the two of you justifying your point of views, reaching no conclusion. 

This is what happened every single time. This was what was going to happen again now. And frankly, you were tired of it. 

“When did we start wanting such different things?” You glanced at the road that disappeared into the darkness. The early morning light was not enough to illuminate the path ahead. “I thought…. we were perfect for each other, that we were meant to be. After nearly ten years, where did it all go wrong?”

You didn’t mean for it to sound hurtful, but Jun had always been the sensitive one.  

“Just because we’re not in the same frame of mind right now, doesn’t mean all the years we shared mean nothing.”

“But what does it mean?” You smiled sadly. “We aren’t growing, we aren’t able to help each other grow, what was the point of it all? Ten years and…. we achieved nothing.” 

It was like you were leaving arrow after arrow to pierce his heart - he knew you were the reasonable kind - always planning, always making lists, always marking milestones. Whatever you were saying now, had to be the result of a moment of frustration, not because you were questioning the love that you had for each other…. right? 

You weren’t regretting this, were you? 

He let out the breath he was holding. “Then maybe it would have been better if the last ten years didn’t happen at all.” 

Please say I’m wrong Y/n. Please say prove me wrong, please say we’re worth it. 

Although you were never really one to be driven by emotions, Jun always was. The one who never forgot anniversaries, the one who always tried to make every moment special, the one who always reminded you that you were not each other’s habits but each other’s love. Had things gone so far that the man who savoured every moment of being in love with you, thought it was better that you never met? 

“Is that what you really think?” You whispered, ignoring the feeling of something pricking the back of your eyes. 

Jun turned to you surprised. How could you even think that? Of course not-

“Careful!” 

Headlights beamed from right across, but this time, Jun’s quick swerve was not enough. 

As the car skidded wildly, with a sickening crunch it slammed into the side of the oncoming truck, the momentum sending it toppling over, rolling violently onto its roof with a screech of metal. As it came to a stop, the sun rose from above the clouds far away and steam rose from what was remaining of the crumpled vehicle. In the heavy stillness that followed, alongside the eerie whisper of the wind, streams of red mixed with the white of the snow. 

Your boyfriend’s hand extending towards you was the last thing you saw before everything went black. 

The Afterlife: 31st December 2024 

Pain. 

Unbearable pain. 

That's what was searing through his body, over and over again. Everywhere, in every inch…. Just pain. 

Perhaps because he hadn’t stopped running. 

Jun had been running in the forest for what seemed like forever. Where to? He had no idea. Where from? He didn’t know that either. 

All he knew was he was looking for something he had lost. Something clearly precious to him. Something he couldn’t live without. 

Yet ignorantly, he kept running. Until....

Jun.

Your voice echoed around him like a soft whisper. Finally stopping by the lake, he looked around, frantically trying to find you. 

It was then, across the frozen crystal clear waters he saw you - beautiful as ever, the only bright thing in the dark, daunting woods. 

He wanted to go to you, he wanted to be with you but the slippery ice didn’t let him take a step forward. 

Instead, you took a step back. 

Then another one. 

Then another. 

Jun continued to call out your name, trying to stop you from receding into the shadows but in vain. Slowly you disappeared into the darkness, the black of the woods engulfing you as Jun fell to his knees, the ice cracking under him. 

Shutting his eyes, he attempted to stop the pain but it only got worse. It was just pain, pain, pain. 

When he opened them, white flickering lights were strangely swaying above him. 

Blinking, Jun tried to see clearly but just then, the ice finally gave away, submerging him into the cold waters. 

As the icy waters of the lake dragged him down, Jun felt his eyes slowly shut again and your name was the last thing he remembered.

The Awakening: 27th January 2025 

The blur flickering light of the ceiling became clear as the rhythmic beeping of machines slowly pulled him from the depths of unconsciousness.

Head throbbing and body aching, an unsettling sense of disorientation washed over him, like he had been asleep for too long. Slowly raising himself on his elbows, Jun looked around, eyes finding the strange setting of a hospital room, the overwhelming smell of antiseptic finally hitting him. 

Shutting his eyes again, he tried to recollect what happened, how he ended up here……

“Y/n…” 

The argument. 

The crash.

The sight of your eyes fluttering shut as blood trickled down your face. 

“Fuck.” He mumbled, looking at all the tubes and wires attached to him, holding him back. Without an ounce of care, he tugged them off, triggering the loud alarms of the machines but before his feet even touched the cold tile of the floor, the doors flung open and a handful of people donning impeccably white coats spilled in, looking worried.

“Sir, please don’t-”

“Where’s Y/n?”

“You need to calm down, you’re not ok-”

He grabbed the collar of the man before him. “Don’t tell me to calm down. Where is Y/n?”

“We…” The doctor looked terrified. “Who is Y/n?”

Annoyed, Jun tugged on his shirt harder. “The car crash, there was a woman with me in the car, in the passenger seat, where is she?” 

“What woman?” The man stuttered, looking at his team confused. “You were brought to our hospital alone.” 

Shocked, Jun loosened his grip, allowing the doctor to quickly move back, putting himself at an arm’s distance. 

Alone?

“That’s not possible….” He muttered. “She was with me, she should be here…” 

“The accident happened in the countryside so you were taken to the nearest emergency care but your injuries were too severe so they shifted you here, to the city hospital.” The doctor looked at him slightly hesitating. “Maybe there was a woman with you, but she wasn’t brought here. Either her condition wasn’t serious enough or she didn’t….”

Eyes narrowing, Jun looked at the shivering man before him. “She didn’t, what?”

“S-she didn’t make it-”

“How dare you?” He spoke between gritted teeth, charging towards the doctor, only to be quickly held back by the nurses around him. “How dare you even suggest something like that-”

“Mr. Junhui, I was only stating the possibility-”

“What you’re saying is not possible-”

“Sir please, your heart rate is getting erratic-”

“I don’t care, I need to find her-”

“You can’t leave.”

“Stop me if you can.” Jun pulled himself free from the grip of those around him, leaving for the door, glaring at the crowd challengingly. 

Only one of them dared to step forward - a woman, one not wearing a doctor’s coat, looking at him with sympathy rather than fear. 

“Sir please….” She whispered softly, slowly approaching him, ignoring the worried looks of those around her. “I understand your worry and I’m so sorry for this but you need to calm down…. I have no other choice.” 

Jun frowned as she neared, maintaining a strong, unavoidable eye contact, the contents of her hands completely missing his vision. Before he could understand what was happening, there was a prick in his arm, hands reaching out to him and the flickering light blurred again as his eyes shut. 

28th January 2025

“Let me go.” 

The events from about 24 hours ago had repeated again. 

The fluttering lights, the machines, the wires, the tubes, the doctors - everything happened in the same sequence except there was one difference this time. When Jun tried to pull on the wires and swing his legs off the bed, he found all four of his limbs restrained. 

“Please.” He whispered. “I need to find Y/n.”

“Sir, there really was no woman brought along with you.” The woman’s eyes reflected the same sympathy they had since the day he had been wheeled in. “We got your records from the emergency center you were taken to.” 

Pulling out a bunch of papers from a file, she placed it on his lap. “There was a woman with you but she was discharged from there within a week.”

“A-a week?” Jun stuttered, looking around. “How long has it been since the accident?” 

“Almost…” She looked at the papers thoughtfully. “Almost a month. You’ve been unconscious all this while, you sustained a traumatic injury to your-”

“What about Y/n?” 

Stepping up and reading through the papers, the doctor from earlier spoke with his expertise. “She had a severe injury on her head too but she gained consciousness about a week after the accident and she…. just left.” 

“Just left?” It felt as though something cold was just dumped on his head. “Just left me?” 

“Mr. Jun, we’re not sure what exactly happened but….” The woman looked at him uncertainly. “The last few weeks that you were here, no woman has come to visit you. Y/n hasn’t been around.” 

Jun let out a shaky breath, “She probably didn’t know I was here. She… she must be looking for me, she must be so worried. I should go to her-” 

“You’re not well enough to leave.” The doctor spoke from behind the woman, worried even though Jun’s movements were restrained. “I wouldn’t suggest-” 

“I don’t want your suggestion. I want you to open these-” He tugged on the belts. “-so I can go.” 

Everyone exchanged looks, shifting in their places.

“Open them!” 

“Again, I’m sorry Mr. Jun.” The woman approached him slowly, an injection clearly visible in her hand this time. “This is for your good.” 

Once again, everything became blur before it all went dark. 

31st January 2025

“She didn’t pick the call.” The woman without a coat, who’s name Jun learnt was Mira, walked up to him. “Again.” 

Sighing, Jun looked outside the window. The streets were busy - cars were going up and down, people were walking about, some laughing, some stressed. But everything was moving, everyone was moving. Only his life had come to a standstill. 

“Do you remember anyone else’s number?” 

Jun shook his head. “Who even memorises numbers these days? Everything is stored on my phone-”

“-which broke in the accident.” She finished for him. 

“I only remember my girlfriend’s number because she forced me to remember it in case of emergencies like these.” He chuckled softly, walking up to the wall with the pictures of the two of you stuck all over. He ran his fingers over the picture of you hugging him from behind, head resting on his shoulder. “She was always so well prepared, always a step ahead….. except now.”

When Jun woke up 3 days ago, Mira had been there to tell him you were nowhere to be found. She had looked for you at home, which had been abandoned for over a month, at the library where you often worked on your projects, at the stores where you preferred to shop, at the park where you jogged every morning. You were nowhere. 

Your family was nowhere to be seen either - the house was locked and the neighbours claimed they had gone somewhere overseas. There was no trace of you at all - it was like you had vanished into thin air, like you were just a mirage, a dream. 

“I wish I could help Jun.” Mira walked up to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, looking around his apartment. “I’m sorry the only thing I could assist you with is getting you back home. But I had someone clean up the place so it should be more habitable now.” 

“Thank you Mira, for everything.” He muttered, slowly moving her arm away, tearing his eyes away from the photographs. “I’m sorry, I… I think I should….. shower, I smell like the hospital.” 

She nodded as Jun disappeared into the washroom, wordlessly asking her to leave. Grabbing her bag, she shot him one last sad look as she hesitatingly made her way out. 

Standing before the mirror, Jun sighed at his reflection - he had never seen himself look this lifeless. Wincing in pain, he removed his shirt slowly, pulling it over his head - almost healed gashes and wounds were littered all over his torso. 

The memory of an injured you flashed behind his shut eyes.

“Where are you Y/n?” He whispered, trying not to let his voice shake. “Come back to me.” 

Jun glanced at the small coffee shop across the road, one he had never seen before, the hanging sign board slowly swaying in the cold wind - Lonely Hearts Cafe. 

So many things had changed over the last month. He, who was the biggest homebody known to mankind, could not bear to stay in his house for another minute. Not where every inch of it was filled with the essence of you, where everything was a reminder of you. A part of him was relieved that there were pictures and traces of you were everywhere - that meant you were real, not a figment of his imagination…. but that also made your absence hurt more. 

He had spent the last few hours wandering the streets mindlessly, trying not to let everything outside the haven the two of you built together remind him of you too. 

But there you were, in your favourite pizza shop on the corner of the street, munching on a slice. Just as he approached, shocked and frantic, you disappeared, like you were never there. And then he saw you again, at the hairdressers this time, getting just the ends trimmed, like always. And then you were by the butchers, petting that little dog you adored. And then by the lake, glancing at the frozen waters, vanishing as usual when he approached to stand by you. Even though you weren’t really around, his eyes found the memories of you everywhere - it was like he didn’t know a life without you. 

There was no life without you.  

The cafe he was currently staring at was perhaps the only place that Jun knew he wouldn’t see you. It looked new, like a business that had just freshly found itself in this vicinity but something about it was also whimsical and fairytale-like, as though it was someone’s old dream came true. Jun had never been a coffee kinda guy - Chinese tea was usually his go-to beverage so it didn’t make sense why he felt this strange urge to go in. Maybe because he knew he wouldn’t be haunted by your absence there.

At first, he took a step ahead, attempting to go towards it but he was unable to take another - he didn’t want to not see you. Even though it hurt, he’d rather see the memories of you everywhere than familiarise himself with a life without you. 

So shaking his head, he turned away, heading back home, going back to everything that reminded him of you when…… something caught his eye. 

At first, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him again because there was no way…. 

Inching closer, ignoring the oncoming traffic and the screaming drivers, he crossed the road, standing right before the large glass windows of the shop. Slowly raising his hand, he wiped the condensation off the frosted glass, catching a clear sight of what was inside. 

You. 

There you were, walking about in a little checkered apron, placing cups of coffee on the table as you flashed your bright smile at those who were seated. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jun turned around, fists tightened painfully. You’ll disappear again, just like all those times before, you’ll disappear again, he was just imagining this, projecting his innermost desire. You weren’t really here….right? 

But the sound of your laughter told him he was wrong. Quickly turning back, he caught sight of you again, making your way to the counter, putting cash into a large glass jar on the wooden shelf. 

As though in a trance, Jun walked over to the door and pushed it open, eyes not leaving you as you laughed and scribbled something down on a notepad before walking to the tables with a bounce in your strut he had never seen before. 

Just as your name found itself on the tip of his tongue, you stopped your tracks and turned around, eyes finding him walking in, lips curling with a wide smile. 

“Hi sir, welcome to Lonely Hearts Cafe.” Clutching the notepad to your chest, you beamed at him. “Do you want to take a seat or get a drink to go?” 

“Y/n…” He whispered, barely able to hear himself, taking a small step ahead.

“Oh I almost forgot,” You softly smacked your head. “If you’re interested, we’re having a small valentines special event, for singles. Any two people who get the exact same drink will be paired to sit at the same table. It’s kind of a ‘if your tastes match, maybe you guys will too’ sort of concept?” 

Given he was staring at you with a vacant expression, you blinked at him like you weren’t quite sure if he understood. 

Jun didn’t understand. Why were you behaving like he was a stranger? Like you didn’t know him. 

Maybe…. this wasn’t you.

“So…” Tucking your loose fringes behind your ear, you tried searching his face for an answer. “What would you like?” 

Jun’s eyes flickered to the healing gash on your forehead, the night of the accident, flashing in his mind again. 

It was you. There was no doubt it was you. 

And so without a second thought, Jun took two big strides, pulling you towards him, wrapping his arms around you tightly, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Excuse me?! Sir-”

“Where have you been?” He muttered, not realising you were struggling to break free from his grip. “I’ve been looking for you-”

“Get off me!” Using all your strength, you pushed him off you, causing the man to take a few staggering steps back, shocked. 

All heads in the cafe turned towards the two of you, a strange silence descending upon the room before hushed whispers broke out. Flashing a fake smile at everyone, you quickly grabbed Jun by his wrist, leading him out of the cafe, shutting the door behind you. 

“What the hell was that?” You glared at him. “Sir, I don’t know who you think you are, but that was unacceptable.” 

Jun blinked at you confused. “I thought….I thought-” 

“I don’t care what you thought.” You crossed your arms looking stern, all the warmth from earlier having left your being. “If I ever see you in my cafe again, I swear to god I will call the cops.”

“You…” Jun looked at you incredulously. “You’ll call the cops on me?” 

“Most definitely.” 

It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense. Why would you call the cops on him? Were you mad at him about something?

Jun’s racked his mind, trying to think of the last conversation the two of you had. The night of the accident. He couldn’t remember all too well, but the image of you glancing at your empty ring finger flashed in his mind. 

“Is this about….getting married?” You frowned as Jun ran his hands through his hair. “If it really means this much to you then, fine, let’s get married. I just wanted it to be-”

“Married?” You looked at him like you couldn’t believe what he was saying. “Why on Earth would I marry you? I don’t even know you-”

“Jun!” 

At the sound of his name, Jun turned around, only to find himself being slammed into the familiar chest of a tall, lanky man. The fragrance of expensive perfume immediately told him who it was - His best friend Minghao. As Jun tried to break free from his friend’s untimely interruption, Minghao held him tight, whispering in his ear. 

“Don’t say a word.” 

“Mr. Xu.” You glanced at the intertwined figures of both men, eyebrows furrowed. “You know this man?” 

“Y/n.” Breaking free, Minghao threw his arm around Jun, flashing a hard smile. “This is Jun, he’s a dear friend. Sorry if he said anything or got out of line - he was just discharged from the hospital after a big accident, he’s a bit disoriented.” 

“Oh.” You looked at him up and down as though it all made sense and you were unable to decide whether to feel sympathetic or stand your ground. “Mr. Jun, I’m sorry you went through all that but whatever you did, that was not appropriate at all.” 

“Y/n what-”

“Yes of course.” Minghao squeezed Jun’s shoulder, shutting him up. “He won’t be troubling you again.” 

“If you really do need a cup of coffee, there are a lot more shops down the street that I’m sure will suit your taste.” You took a step back, reaching for the door again, expression unreadable. “Please don’t come back to me.” 

With that you pushed the door open and disappeared into the cafe allowing Minghao to finally let go of his friend who turned to him, beyond confused. 

“What…. What was that?” He pointed at you, waiting the tables again inside, like nothing happened. Like he didn’t exist. 

“Jun…” Minghao let out a shaky breath, looking carefully at his friend. “Let’s go home, I’ll explain everything.”

“No.” Shaking his head frantically, he reached for the door again. “I’m not going anywhere without Y/n.” 

Moving quickly, Minghao put himself in between, blocking the way. 

“Please.” He held his hand out. “Y/n, she…. she won’t come with you.”

Jun looked at him incredulously. “Why not?” 

“Because she doesn’t remember….” Minghao spoke slowly, watching his friend’s face carefully. “She doesn’t remember you.” 

The throbbing pain was back. 

Actually, it never left. The pain was always there, it was him who had suppressed it under everything else. But with the revelation of things, it became unhinged, freely coursing in his being, hurting everywhere. 

Minghao poured Jun another cup of tea as the two men sat at the dining table, the latter still clutching a photo of you, trying to make sense of all that he was told. 

“She….she doesn’t remember me at all?” He frowned, still confused. “Because of…. you?” 

“Because she doesn’t want to.” Minghao corrected his friend, yet again. “Jun, it was her choice to do the procedure.”

The procedure. 

Minghao had spoken all about it in great detail for the last half an hour. It all went over his head though, Jun didn’t register a single piece of the information thrown at him except one thing - the procedure was to remove memories. 

Yes apparently that was a thing. A new initiative by Minghao’s company - a simple medical procedure in which one could choose to erase their memories of a certain period of time. A process straight out of the sci-fi books - one so ridiculous, Jun would have never believed it if it weren’t coming out of his best friend's mouth. 

That his girlfriend had gotten all her memories of him wiped from her mind. 

“It makes no sense.” Jun shook his head. “Why would she want to forget me? Why would she choose to…”

Minghao looked at his friend staring at your photo sadly. He had always known Jun to be someone full of life - he was ambitious, passionate and always bursting with energy. But now he looked like the whole world had come crashing around him. 

“I’m sorry Jun.” Minghao could feel the guilt eating him on the inside. “All of it happened in my company, right under my nose but I had no idea Y/n had gotten it done till it was all over. Maybe if I had reached the clinic just a little earlier, I could have stopped them from injecting the serum-”

“No Hao, whether you could stop her or not, it won’t change the fact that Y/n wanted to….” Jun swallowed the bile rising in his throat. “She didn’t want to just leave me or walk away from this relationship, she wanted to erase its entire existence from her life. To pretend like it never happened. But why…”

“I wish I knew Jun.” Minghao shook his head softly. “All I know is that this choice mustn't have been easy for her - to forget you she had to have the last 10 years of her life removed. That’s how far she was willing to go to…”

Minghao's words rang in his ears. 

10 years….

Maybe it would have been better if the last ten years didn’t happen at all.

The night of the accident…. that's what he had said. 

Oh god, was that why you….

What had he done? 

“Jun?” Minghao snapped his fingers before his friend's face. “Where are you lost-”

“This was a mistake.” Jun shook his head. “This was all a horrible misunderstanding. I didn’t mean…”

“Mean what?” 

Jun couldn’t even recall why he had said that. It was like his brain was suppressing the stupidity from recurring. 

“I need to talk to her. I need to fix this.”

“How exactly-”

“I’ll marry her, right this instant if that’s what it takes-”

“Jun no-”

“Hao, yes.” He turned to his friend, determined. “I can fix it. I can talk to her and sort this out. Just help me put her memories back again-”

“That’s not-”

“-and I’ll make her see how much I love her-” 

“Jun, that's not possible.” Minghao raised his voice, interrupting his friend’s rant. “Dealing with memories isn’t child’s play. It's one thing to remove them, but to restore them? That’s impossible.”

It felt like everything around was shattering. “You mean she won't ever….”

Minghao shook his head, delivering the final blow. “She won't… ever.” 

Jun stared at the photo in his hand. 

Minghao, who had insisted on staying the night, had hit the shower, his tea sitting cold in its cup. 

Cold draft was blowing in through the open kitchen window. The tips of his fingers were frozen but they were not colder than the thing wrapping around his heart, eating it away.  

Minghao’s last words as he was lingering by the door rang in his ears. 

“Y/n chose to forget you Jun, she chose to restart her life. Maybe it’s best that you do too.” 

Restart his life? Pretend like you didn’t exist and move on? How on Earth was he supposed to do that? 

He glanced at the room around him - at the pictures of you on the walls, at the vase you brought back from your trip to spain, at the coasters you always made sure to use, at the rug you specifically had made to match the couch, at every single thing in his life that was a testament of you. How was he supposed to forget all of it? 

But the truth was, you had forgotten it all. You had walked out of his life, your home and everything the two of you had built together over the last 10 years. None of this around him meant anything to you anymore. 

You had built a new world for yourself, one which Jun had reached, lost in his thoughts. The cafe, the coffee, the customers, the infectious smile on your face, the little bounce in strut, the way your hair fell over your shoulder as you’d turn - you had built something that had no trace of him but more importantly, you looked so happy. Jun couldn’t remember the last time he saw you smile this wide, or even laugh at something stupid. The winter was harsh on the city outside but everything around you seemed so warm. 

Maybe Minghao was right. Maybe it was best that he forgot it all too. 

1st February 2025 

“Where do I put this?” 

Jun turned to Mira who was holding up a bunch of books in her arms. 

“They're all cookbooks, but I'm not sure whether to put it in the box with her law books or in the one with magazines.”

“We can just leave these out.” Taking them from here, Jun walked into the kitchen. “We don't have to put away everything.” 

Sighing Mira followed him. “Jun, boss said everything. Everything that belongs to her, everything that reminds you of her.” 

Jun stared at the books in his hands. Two hours ago, he was sprawled on the couch half asleep, your scarf wrapped around his hand, a frame with your photo in his arms. Much to his annoyance, the consistent ringing of the bell forced him to drag himself to the door and standing on the other side was Mira. 

Jun didn't think he would ever have any reason to see her again but apparently, Mira wasn't just a random hospital staff who helped him - she was in fact Minghao's employee, a psychiatrist who worked in his Memory Wipe project and was asked by him to look after Jun till he came around, as a favour. That day when she left the apartment, she had immediately told Minghao about all that happened - that's how he found his friend declaring he was ready to marry you in front of the coffee shop. Mira though, had no idea about you or that you had your memories wiped - she only found out when Minghao, who left early in the morning for a meeting, sent her over to Jun’s house with a new phone and a contract. A contract to obliterate the last 10 years of his memories. 

“You want me to erase her existence?” Jun furiously muttered into the phone. “How did you even think-” 

“Will you be able to survive with her memories?” Even though he couldn't see his face, Jun knew Minghao was donning a sorry expression. “It'll kill slowly you, Jun. Not being able to be with her, not being able to forget her, not being able to move on. If I had to name something worse than hell, this is it.”

For long after the call ended, Jun stared at the contact papers on the coffee table, his mind disturbed. As much as he didn't want to distance himself from you, could he really live with the fact that you'll never be his again? It had been barely 2 days since he was awake and he was already at the verge of losing his mind. Maybe it was better he too forgot it all. 

But it also pained him to think that if both of you forgot everything, then there was no one who truly knew the kind of pure and unwavering love the two of you shared over the last ten years. At least for the sake of those, he had to stay strong, he had to live with this. But could he really? 

And it was thoughts like this that had him rooted to his chair for over an hour. 

“You don't have to decide now.” Mira interrupted his cycle of thought, tired of watching his unmoving figure. “The procedure is simple. I already have the 10 year formula ready in your name. All you have to do is just come by the centre when you're ready - one injection and it'll be done.” 

As much as Jun was grateful for the time, there was one thing Minghao wanted him to do immediately - clear the apartment of anything and everything that belonged to you. That's what the two of them were in the middle of right now as Mira glanced at the cookbooks in his hands. 

“Jun, whether or not you want to get the Memory Wipe, you need to get rid of all these things. You won't ever move on otherwise-” 

“They're cookbooks.” Jun rolled his eyes, placing them on the shelf of the kitchen. “Has it not occurred to you that I might use these myself?”

Mira stared at him like she didn't believe him but Jun ignored her. There was no way he was going to get rid of every last bit of you. What would be left of him then? 

All your clothes were packed and stashed in the store room, all the pictures of the two of you were taken down, your books, your things, everything was sealed and locked away. Except a few that Jun refused to let go - the lavender cream you used every night, the harmonica you loved to play, the cookbooks you swore would make you a better chef than him. Jun didn't have the heart to walk away from all of it just yet. 

Giving up, Mira began walking away. “I'm going to put her shoes away.” 

“Wait.” Aligning the books hurriedly, Jun quickly ran over to the closet. “Maybe just leave those heels.” 

Mira looked exasperated. “What use could you possibly have of women's footwear?”

Nothing. Jun just loved those black stilettos you wore to work - the sound of them against the wooden flooring was what told him you were home everyday. 

“Jun, this whole thing isn't just about you getting over Y/n. If you plan to do the Memory Wipe, you especially need to do this” Mira stood up sighing. “Imagine losing 10 years of your life and coming home and finding a woman's things all over. You won't remember her, you won't know what happened, you won't have any answers, it'll drive you mad. Please, listen to me, you need to get rid of it all.”

Jun turned away, peeling his eyes from the closet as Mira put the last of your footwear in the boxes, looking at him sadly. 

“How did Minghao even design this procedure?” Jun glanced at the contact papers fluttering on the table. “I knew he was indulging in some biomedical R&D, I had no idea it was this intense.” 

Mira chuckled. “Biomedical R&D barely covers the scope of what he does. Let's just say the Xu enterprises dabble in a lot of things and the Memory Wipe is their latest project. Actually its just undergoing it's last clinical trial - it’s not even advertised or available for the public.” 

“How did Y/n get to know about it then?” Jun frowned like it didn't make sense. “Minghao never talks business with me and I'm sure he's never mentioned it to her either. Then…”

“There were a bunch of lawyers involved in the legal aspects of the clinical trials.” Mira confessed, shrugging. “Maybe she heard from someone in the fraternity.” 

“Funny.” Jun smiled sadly. “Y/n has never been one for office gossip. She just liked to get her work done and head straight back home. It was always about efficiency and not wasting time.”

Mira smiled. “That's an admirable work ethic.” 

“Right? I wish I had that.” Jun glanced out of the window at the snow tumbling out of the sky. “Maybe she wouldn't have had to work so hard if I did.”

“What do you mean?” 

Jun glanced at Mira who had joined him, before continuing to stare out. 

“Y/n always believed in working hard. For her, a job was simply a means to make money. She didn't associate it with dreams or passion, it was just… survival? Me on the other hand, ever since I was a child, all I wanted to do was be an actor. I spent the last, god knows how many years, chasing that dream, picturing myself before the cameras, walking down red carpets. If I look back at my life, all I see are auditions and rejections and more rejections.” 

“It's not wrong to want to live your dream.” 

“No it's not but I don't know how right it is to live with your head in the clouds. Y/n always had her feet on the ground - that was the only reason we survived through it all.” 

“So your story is the ‘opposites attract’ kind?” 

“I guess.” Jun laughed softly. “We were polar opposites actually. She hates talking, I'm always chatting away. She's a mess, I'm neat. She hates doing household chores, I love doing them. Even in food, she loves sweet things, I like them spicy. Our preferences in anything, be it music or movies or where to go or what to wear, they were always so different but I guess….that's what made things fun. Sometimes she'd adjust for me, sometimes me for her, and though things weren't going our way, we were happy because we were making each other happy.” 

“Wow.” Mira let out a breath. “I always thought being in love with someone entirely from me would be difficult to handle.”

“If I'm being honest, there were times it did get difficult.” Jun wiped the condensation off the window with his hand, catching sight of your cafe across the street. “Y/n lived life like it was a checklist. Graduating high school at 18, then law school at 23, first job at 24, marriage at 25, three kids by the time she's 30, retired by 55, starting an organic farm business at 57 and then dying whenever - she had her whole life planned. Me on the other hand, I… live in the moment, go where life takes me. Everything around us is so uncertain, think about the accident”

Jun’s voice shook as fragments of it flashed in his head.

“We could have died, life as we know could have ended, so what's the point in deciding everything so prematurely? I take life by the day, I enjoy every moment - one day I'm doing martial arts classes for kids, one day I'm teaching old women some Chinese dishes, one day I'm doing a modelling contract. End of the day, I still make money to feed myself and pay my bills, I just don't go to bed having the next 10 years of my life planned and somehow….. I think that's what drove us apart. That's why she…” Jun let out a deep breath. “That's why she decided to start afresh. Her practicality and my emotional disposition just… didn't find any middle ground.” 

Mira softly placed her hand on Jun's shoulder, caressing it with her thumb. Clearing his throat, he took a step back, tearing his eyes away from the coffee house. 

“We should probably continue with the packing.” 

Mira nodded as she followed him, the two of them sorting things silently this time. Normally Jun wouldn't ever let go of a chance to talk about you, but now, given he had to speak about you in past tense, Jun couldn't bring himself to talk about you over and over again. Minghao was right, it was all just getting harder and harder.

And so, the next few hours were navigated in mostly silence and occasional questions. By the time the sun had begun to set, the two of them were done - all of your things had been neatly packed and put in the store room, the door locked, keys stashed in Mira's pocket for safe keeping. A couple of things had been piled by the door to be thrown out, Jun's take out dinner had arrived and Mira was lingering by the door, ready to leave. Yet the contract papers were sitting on the table, like an elephant in the room. Unable to hold herself back anymore, Mira sighed. 

“Jun, I know Minghao left the choice to you but as a professional and as someone who cares about you, I think it's best you…. " She gulped. "sign the contract. I've seen some couples after the clinical trials, trust me, you don't want to live this weight-” 

“Mira,” Jun’s voice left him between gritted teeth. “It's been barely 2 days since I got to know about what Y/n did. I haven't even decided if I am to be sad or angry or stay or move on.” He shut his eyes, running his hands through his hair. “The only reason I agreed to keep her things away or allowed someone else to even touch them was because one, I trust Minghao more than anything and two, if I really want to, I know I'm strong enough to break the door of that storeroom and get everything back. But what you're asking of me, is a permanent change. Please just…. Let me think things through at my pace.” 

Mira blinked at him, her hand on the handle of the door, unmoving. 

“Thank you for your help yet again Mira, but I think it's time you go.” 

And before the apology even left her mouth as she stepped out, Jun shut the door behind her, leaning against it.  

He just needed some time. That’s all.

Or at least that's what he thought but in just a few hours, he realised he didn't. 

Yesterday was perhaps bearable because Minghao, although he didn't speak much, was there in the house. Today though, heating up his food all alone, sitting at the table by himself, walking around his house in the dimness of the night lights, staring at the empty walls and empty shelves - it was all too much. Jun couldn't bring himself to go another day like this, forget the rest of his life. 

Taking a deep breath he sat on the couch, pulling the papers towards himself, then pen in his hand shaking. 

He wasn't strong enough for this - he couldn't go on without you. 

Finally making up his mind, he gripped the pen tight and signed the contract. There was no other way. 

But the universe said otherwise. 

If Jun had just turned around and gone to his room, things would've gone down very differently. Maybe if he decided to sleep instead of clearing the dishes and throwing the trash, he would've never thought about clearing all the boxes that Mira left by the door. Maybe then he wouldn't have come across that box. 

At first glance when he opened it, it seemed like odd bits of trash - there were pieces of paper, little trinkets, bills and what not. He was just about to throw it when his eye caught the familiar logo on one of the bills - the Lovers Cavern. The first Michelin star restaurant that Jun had taken you to on a date. Frowning, he ran his fingers through the contents of the box, recognising them one by one. Carnival and movie tickets, the crinkled wrapper of the ice cream he loves, the magnets from your first road trip together, the dried corsage from your first dance together…. everything was a thoughtful piece of the time the two of you spent together. 

You had been carefully saving them over the last 10 years. 

Jun stared at it wordlessly, lost in thought. He had never taken you as one for sentimentality. Hell you didn't even like taking photos or recording videos of your time together, he was always the one who had to pull you in, forcing you to smile. He had always assumed those small moments meant nothing to you but this box told him a different story - you had been treasuring them all these years in your own way. This relationship wasn’t just part of a checklist, you had been emotionally invested in it since the beginning, since 10 years. 

Jun could only imagine how much his words must have hurt you that day…. Clearly enough to make you take such a big step. You didn't walk away because you wanted to. You walked away because of him. His words made you…. it was his fault. 

Walking over to the window, Jun glanced at your cafe, watching as you stepped out with a couple of bags in your hands, turning off the lights and locking the door. As you balanced your things in your hands, waving for a cab, Jun slowly realised….. Minghao was wrong. 

His only options weren't to either live with your memories alone or forget you and move on. There was a third one. One that Jun was about to choose. 

He was going to get you back. He had done it once and he could do it again. 

Jun was going to make you fall in love with him all over again. 

2nd February 2025 

Rubbing the back of your sore neck, you sat down at the benches outside the cafe, enjoying the cold. 

One might think you were stupid for sitting in the snow clad street in just a small dress and an apron but the heat of the coffee was getting unbearable. Sipping on your own coffee, you glanced at the hustle and bustle down the street. Everyone looked so busy, like they were navigating life with a purpose. This coffee shop had always been your purpose, the dream you had been living for almost a month now yet something felt unfulfilled. Something was missing. Before you could figure out what, a voice broke you out of your reverie. 

“Is the same drink, same table offer still going on?” 

Raising your head, you let your eyes find the man who interrupted the few minutes of your me-time.

“Mr. Wen Junhui.” You cleared your throat, letting the annoyance show on your face. “I believe I had asked you not to enter my shop?”

“You did.” Jun nodded, sitting down beside you, a few feet away. “And I did not enter your shop - technically I'm outside.” 

You glared at him, eyes narrowed. 

“Well since you're such an ardent follower of what I say, you shouldn't be sitting with me either because-”

“Because I need to have the same drink as you, right?” Jun cocked his head at you, raising his cup. “And I do.” 

“There's no way.” You chuckled, taking a sip. “I can assure you, you don't.” 

“Correct me if I'm wrong,” Jun took a sip, smiling to himself because he knew he was not wrong. No one knew you better than him. “But I think that's a caramel macchiato with hazelnut cream.”

Lips slightly parted in surprise, you stared at him. 

“M-maybe.” You muttered, taking a sip yourself. “But I still don’t think it’s the exact same-”

“Yeah, it might not be exact.” Jun shrugged nonchalantly. “Not like I’m lactose intolerant or anything but I felt like taking it with oat milk today.” 

The cup nearly slipped from your hand. You were lactose intolerant. You always took your coffee with oat milk. 

Choosing not to tell him that, you simply continued to stare at the busy crowd. Jun let out an inward sigh of relief knowing he had earned the place to sit next to you. 

“Y/n…” Clearing his throat, he corrected himself. Baby steps Jun. “Ms. Y/n I uh actually wanted to apologise about that day.”

You turned to him, eyebrows slightly furrowed. 

“I had actually just gotten out of the hospital that day and I don’t think the anesthesia wore off completely so I was apparently just going around and…. proposing marriage to various women.” 

You raised your eyebrows like you didn’t believe him. 

“It’s true, I spent the whole day today saying sorry to every business owner on this street…. And drinking the same coffee order as them. I think I’m going to have a tough time in the bathroom tomorrow….” 

Scoffing, you turned away from him and if Jun didn’t know you better, he wouldn’t have known you were hiding a tiny smile. 

“Again I’m really Ms. Y/n, I wish that didn’t happen and that we could have a fresh start. I was really looking forward to having coffee here.” 

Letting out a deep resigned breath, you stood up, chugging the last of your drink. Tossing the cup in the bin, you turned to him, clasping your hands before you politely, giving him a small smile. 

“Mr. Wen Junhui, welcome to Lonely Hearts cafe. We’re a small business that opened just a month ago so we’ve got some really good deals on coffee and cake. We even have a Valentine’s day event - you get to share a table with the person who has the same drink as you. I hope we see you around.” 

Returning your smile, Jun got up, giving a small shrug. “That Valentine’s day event is interesting - I would love to… be seen around.” He chuckled, holding his hand out. “It’s nice knowing you Ms. Y/n.” 

Glancing at his outstretched hand, you slowly took it, wrapping your fingers around it. Somehow on the cold winter day, there was a strange warmth radiating between the two of you. 

“It’s nice getting to know you too Mr. Jun.” 

3rd February 2025 

“You know, you don’t look like someone who enjoys coffee.” 

Jun turned at the sound of your voice, finding you right beside the door he just walked in. You had a tray in your hands and an amused smile on your face. 

“What makes you say that?” 

“The face you made yesterday?” You laughed as you walked in, Jun following behind you. “I’ve never seen someone look so disgusted while drinking coffee.” 

Jun suppressed a smile as he leaned against the counter. “Oh so you were watching me.” 

Rolling your eyes, you walked towards the machines. “I happened to see.” 

“The one yesterday was just too sweet.” He shuddered, recalling the taste. “My taste buds were dying.” 

“Well obviously it was sweet, it’s caramel.” You pulled out a piece of cake, putting it on the counter as a waitress walked over, taking it. “Did you expect it to taste like Malatang?” 

Oh Jun would love some Malatang right now. 

“No, but something told me your coffee would taste much better than that one.” 

You chuckled, pulling up a cup. “Is that going to be your order for today?’ 

“Nope.” Jun shook his head. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.” 

“What I’m having?” You frowned, confused. 

“How else will I be able to share a table with you?” 

Jun could tell you were holding back a smile. “And why would you want to do that?” 

“I thought coffee with a side of conversation would be nice.” 

“I’m working.” 

“I’ll wait.”

“I only get off at 5.” 

“I’ll wait.” 

“And then I need to head straight home.” 

“I just need 10 minutes.” 

You raised your eyebrows like you were trying to figure out what his intentions were. Meanwhile, he looked at you determined, like he’ll wait for a lifetime, if that’s what it took. Sighing you pulled out a piece of cake and set it before him. Then changing your mind, you quickly swapped it for a couple of lemon biscuits and slid it to him. 

“They’re on the house.” 

And with that you tightened your apron and walked away, leaving Jun staring at his favourite biscuits on the counter. 

“Do you need any help?” 

You looked up from the table you were cleaning at Jun who was still here, his coat discarded, cheeks flushed red and eyes tired. 

“I have staff Mr. Jun.”

“She left.” He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Told me to inform you.” 

“Huh.” You frowned. “She always stays till I close for the extra ten I hand her every day.” 

Jun remained silent, looking away.

“You paid her.” 

“I was just helping her go home fast.”

Sighing, you straightened yourself, crossing your arms. “Okay what is it, what do you want?” 

“I told you, a conversation.”

“Well that’s what we’re having right?” 

“Right…” Jun cleared his throat, unsure how to frame his sentences while you continued to look at him expectantly. When he didn’t say anything, you rolled your eyes and continued cleaning up. 

“I was thinking…” You held out the tray, making him quickly free his hands to hold it as you began stacking plates and cutlery on it. “You’re a woman.”

“Are you doubting it?” Frowning, you walked over to the trash can, Jun right behind, struggling to balance everything. 

“No! I mean I wasn’t thinking if you were a woman, more like I was thinking since you’re a woman and I’m a man….” 

Jun trailed off completely lost about where he was going with this till you relieved him of the weight in his arms, placing the tray in the sink. 

“Mr. Jun,” You untied your apron, tucking it on the rod of the drawer. “You only have 10 minutes.” 

“Okay okay.” Jun recomposed himself, watching you pack up your things for the night.  Looks like he just had to get straight to the point. “Yes I have 10 minutes right now, but my worry is, we only have 10 days.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“It's Valentine's in 10 days….” Jun muttered below his breath trying to gauge your reaction. 

“Are you…” You narrowed your eyes at him unsure. “Is this your way of asking me out?” 

“No god,” Jun groaned, running his hands through his hair. “I swear I planned it so much better in my head-”

“Don’t.” 

And with that one word, you crushed everything. All the hope, the longing, the yearning.  

“Look Mr. Jun, normally I wouldn't go into the details but I don't want you to think I'm blowing you off but about a month ago, I got a Memory Wipe. I lost the last ten years of my life and I’m still trying to come to terms with how much things have changed.... I’m just not ready for any kind of commitment.”

“But….” Jun blinked at you confused. “You smiled…”

“Sorry?” 

“Yesterday and today…. I thought, you might also…” 

“Mr. Jun.” You sighed, donning your jacket, zipping up. “You’re a good looking man, you’re sweet and I can tell you’d be a good conversation but I didn’t mean for it to be more than that. I just assumed it would be some harmless flirting.” 

“I don’t want it to just be harmless flirting.” Jun shook his head. “I want something more. I like you and I want to-” 

“Like me, why?” You looked at him confused, grabbing your bags. “We’ve barely spoken more than 5 sentences to each other.”

We’ve been in love for more than 10 years Y/n. 

“I can’t explain it, it just…. feels right.” 

“Well I can’t function based on your whims and feelings, can I?” 

Jun stood frozen as you turned off the lights and opened the door, stepping out. Grabbing his jacket he followed you, watching you lost in thought as you locked the door before you turned to him. 

“Look, you seem like a nice guy and I’m sure you’ll find someone. It just can’t be me, I’m not in the space for it.” Adjusting the bags in your hands, you shot him an apologetic look.  “I’m sorry Mr. Jun.”

And with that you walked away, your figure moving further and getting smaller as cold winds returned to the city. For some stupid reason, Jun hadn’t anticipated this - he didn’t think about the possibility of you rejecting his advances. He just assumed the two of you would fall into the comfortable pattern of dating each other and everything would slowly return to normal. Your disappearing self was telling him otherwise….

No. 

Jun couldn’t allow this to happen. He couldn’t lose this chance.

“Wait!” Pulling his jacket over his shivering body, he ran to you, half tripping on the way. “Wait, please.” 

And you did, looking at his panting, coughing self standing in your way, trying to catch his breath. Searching your bags, you handed him a bottle of water but Jun ignored it, looking at you questioningly. 

“If whatever happened to you a month ago, didn’t happen, would you agree to go out on a date with a guy like me?” 

“I….” You looked around confused. “I don’t know.” 

“Do you have any other reason not to give us… to give me a shot?” Crossing his fingers, Jun tucked his hands in his pocket. “Any other reason to say no?” 

“Not really, no.” 

Bingo. 

“I’m sure the aftermath of the Memory Wipe hasn't been easy but life won’t stop just because you want things to pause.” Gulping he looked at you expectantly. “Look Y/n I too am in a space where things are difficult where I want to hit rewind, but I realised maybe it’s better to hit restart and I want to try that with you.” 

“Jun I…” 

“Here’s my suggestion, just hear me out.” He clasped his hands, ignoring the cold drafts. “Give me 10 days, just 10 days to change your mind about us. I know I can do it, I know I can make you see I’m worth it, that we’re worth it.” 

“You’re really not going to take no for an answer are you?” 

Jun shook his head, his face falling. “No I…. I don’t want to force you. I was just suggesting-”

“What if I’m not convinced in 10 days?” You sighed, looking at him unsure. “Will you leave the idea of ‘us’ behind and not pursue me anymore?" 

“It won’t come to that-” 

“If it does.” 

“If it does,” Jun took a deep breath. “Then you’ll never see me again. I promise.” 

And with that you went silent, like you were considering it. Jun prayed to all possible forces in the universe - please say yes, please say yes, please say yes. 

“Okay.” You agreed, slowly nodding your head. “You have 10 days. If I’m not convinced, then on the 10th day,  we’re done and we’re never seeing each other again, deal?” 

Smiling on the inside, Jun ignored the little victory lap his head was doing. “Deal.” 

“And you’re sure this will work?” 

Phone against his ear, Jun nodded confidently.

“Positive.”

“What if you’re just setting yourself up for heartbreak again?”

“I’m not.” Jun rolled his eyes. “I know I can get her back. This time I’ll be better-” 

“Haven’t you noticed?” Minghao voice was filled with caution. “She’s somehow not the same. The Y/n you knew was a hard core, cut throat lawyer. This Y/n is a barista who sells coffee and the idea of love.” 

Jun hummed in thought. “Maybe. But deep down, she’s still my Y/n and I’m her Jun. I know her better than anyone else, I can do this-”

“And if you can’t?” 

“Then I’ll live with it. But I can’t let her go without trying.” 

“And what if it still doesn’t work?” 

“I don’t want to consider that possibility.” 

“Jun be realistic. How on Earth do you plan on convincing a woman who thinks you’re a complete stranger, is struggling with her amnesia, and more importantly doesn’t want any commitment, to date you?” 

Jun sank into his couch, staring at the ceiling.  

“I have no idea.” He confessed.

“Exactly, what if things get worse for you-”

“Can you just for once be a tad bit more positive?” Jun sighed. “Look at the bright side of things. Like for example, Y/n knew I didn’t like coffee-”

“-you make the most disgusting face known to mankind when you drink it, anyone would know-”

“-and she knew I like malatang-”

“-you’re Chinese Jun. I think that was a safe guess-”

“-and she knew lemon biscuits were my favourite dessert.” 

This time Minghao went silent. 

“Nothing snarky to say?” 

When Minghao continued to keep quiet, Jun frowned, sitting up. 

“Hao do you think she… remembered?” 

“That’s not possible....” 

"You don't sound as sure as last time." Jun noted.

Minghao let out a deep breath, like he was frustrated. “Theoretically, a memory restoration is not possible but hearing you I.... I can't tell for sure - we're also still not done with the clinical trials so I cannot exactly negate the possibility."

"So,,," Jun's eyes widened. "You're saying there is a chance she might remember everything?"

"A really really small chance.....” Minghao emphasised. "Or it could just be that since Y/n has known you for ten odd years, some her actions are just reflexive - ingrained in her subconscious after years of habit." 

"But you're saying there's a small chance she might remember me again?"

Minghao sighed. Clearly, his friend wanted to just hear one thing.

"Yes. Perhaps if she's repeatedly exposed to you or to something of her past, she might remember certain things again-"

"Enough to make her want to come back to me?"

"I cannot promise that-"

"But I can try." Jun whispered, the cogwheels in his mind turning. "I have to try and Hao, I think I know exactly how."

"How-"

Cutting the call Jun tossed his phone aside and quickly grabbed the box he had stashed below the tea table, opening it. He ran his fingers again through all the memories you had saved, a small smile forming on his face.

Jun had 10 days to win you back - that meant he had 10 chances to remind you of all the good days the two of you shared. 10 memories he could recreate, ones that you yourself had stored in this very box. 10 ways he could prove 'us'..... was truly worth it.

And just like that, Wen Junhui knew exactly how to make you fall in love with him all over again. 

You stared at the photo hanging on your wall, arms crossed, eyes slightly damp.

You look so happy,....he looks so happy. 

Just like he did when you agreed to give him 10 days to woo you. 

Sighing you tore your eyes away and stared at the ground, blinking the tears away. 

“Just 10 days," You whispered, voice shaking. "….. and all of this will be over.” 

A/n - This fic is tbh very long and overwhelming so I thought its best to have it out in parts? I hope you enjoyed this part and stay tuned for the next too! Thoughts in comments and reblogs are very much appreciated my loves <3

[lyinyao]

Yandere Wild West Gang - Noncon

Your life is all planned out for you. Marriage. Children. Settling down in your little town and growing old. But a gang of outlaws and their wicked desires change everything.

Tags: (6) yandere males x fem reader, noncon, loss of virginity, choking, spitroast (hell yeah), oral fixation, 12.3k words

I blame the ridiculously talented @fangdokja and The Red Ledger for inspiring this btw.

They came for you in the middle of the day.

Shameless. Better men would at least wait for nightfall, would at least try and hide their intentions behind the cloak of darkness. Not them though.

They kicked the door in when your family was just about ready to eat lunch, the food still steaming and your ma still in her apron.

You didn't even have time to scream.

One outlaw smashed his rifle butt into your pa's temple and the old man was out like a light, still clutching the knife he'd grabbed to defend you. Two others grabbed your mother and shoved her into the pantry, blocked the door with a tipped over cupboard.

You ran. Or tried to at least. They were crowded into your kitchen, laughing as you turned from one to the other.

"No way out, beauty."

"Too late to run now, darlin'. Shoulda started before we even got here if you wanted to get away."

"Look at her all scared. Ain't it just adorable?"

With near identical duster coats and bandanas tied across their faces, you couldn't tell them apart.

They were closing in on you, a little at a time. You tried to fight, to pull away when one of them grabbed you. But they were dust bitten outlaws and you were just a rancher's daughter. It wasn't even a struggle.

The tallest one slammed you down on the kitchen table, his fingers digging into your shoulders and his belt buckle grinding against your ass.

Your mama's good milk jug tumbled off and shattered on the floor. That was what you focused on as they tied your hands behind your back and gagged you. The shards of blue and white ceramic in the puddle of milk.

Not their hands running over your hips, not their laughter. Just the milk and your ma's favourite jug all in pieces.

You could still hear your mother screaming for you when they pulled you outside. That was what hurt the most about that entire awful day. Your mama, pleading and begging and panicking and unable to save you.

Their horses were waiting, another outlaw standing guard with his rifle out.

"Boss, let her ride with me."

"With you? Ain't no way in hell my girl is riding with you."

"Your girl? She ain't yours. Boss, tell 'em she ain't his."

"Runnin' to the boss again? Yellow belly."

It was the tall one who settled the argument. His voice wasn't as rough as the others, but that didn't put you at ease in the slightest.

"She's riding with me."

He still had one hand curled around your upper arm and he pulled you towards his mustang. You dug your heels in as hard as you could, pulled back with all your weight. It just made him sigh.

"Ain't even started yet, and she's already being difficult?"

The outlaw that spoke was already on his stallion. All you could see of his face above the bandana was a pair of blue eyes, lined at the corners. The boss maybe?

"Just some...growing pains. She'll settle down soon enough."

The tall one leaned down and hoisted you over his shoulder. You squirmed and tried to kick your way free, but he kept one arm tight around your knees.

You thought all your panicking would frighten the horses, but no such luck. He tossed you across his saddle and climbed up behind you. The saddle horn dug into your belly until he pulled you into a proper seat, one arm curling around your waist. You could feel his chest against your back, every inch of it firm, hard earned muscle.

He dropped his head and spoke directly into your ear.

"No trying to jump off the horse. No trying to run away. I'm in charge of you until we get back and I won't have you hurt on my watch."

Your only response was to try and smash your head back into his nose. He straightened up just in time and all you managed to do was hurt your own neck.

He sighed again, and spurred his horse forward.

"Well, I suppose it this was easy, it wouldn't be nearly as fun."

The outlaws formed a loose ring around you as you rode. You tried to twist and look back, but your captor was holding you too tight. You didn't even get to see your home shrink into the horizon. Didn't even get that one small goodbye.

They rode for at least two hours, the sun climbing down from its zenith as they took you across rivers and down secret little paths. You knew your ranch and the area around it like the back of your hand, but even you were well and truly lost when you finally arrived.

It was a ranch, but there weren't any cows in the fields or corn growing in neat rows. The house was a big, whitewashed thing. Pretty once, but fallen into disrepair. Just a hideout. Not a place they stayed at for more than a few months.

The blue eyed one pulled you off the horse without breaking a sweat.

You could feel their eyes on you again. God, how many were there? Five? Six?

"You goin' first boss?"

The man looked down at you. He had a hand around your upper arm, but his grip was more firm than rough.

"I reckon I should. Can't trust you lot to be gentle or slow enough."

That made some of them jeer and complain.

"I'll be real sweet, boss. I promise!"

"We can be nice too. Really."

The man snorted. "Nice? I ain't never seen you dogs be nice 'bout nothing. I'll break our filly in. You lot just be patient and don't bother us none."

What were they talking about? You didn't have time to puzzle it out before the boss started pulling you toward the house. Seeing that building looming closer made you start fighting all over again, biting down on your gag and pulling back as much as you could. Like a mustang digging it's feet in.

It didn't last long. The boss leveled a look at you, met your eyes straight on.

"You really gonna be difficult with me, girl?"

Oh, what frightening eyes he had. Bright and clever, a blue so striking you could feel it right through your soul. A mountain lion would have eyes softer than his.

You stopped resisting him. Let him pull you along besides him. What else could you do? He had a gun on his back and a knife in his boot and years of experience wrangling stubborn animals. And you were just a girl out of her depth and far from home.

You didn't see it, but the outlaws looked at each other, impressed. Only the boss could tame a filly with a single look.

The house was much cooler than outside, but the boss didn't give you any time to examine it. Just guided you up the stairs and into a large bedroom. White curtains stirred in the breeze, the bedding neat and clean.

He locked the door behind you. A quiet click that made your heart race.

You jumped when his hands came to rest on your shoulders. You could hear the other outlaws outside, the clink of harnesses and buckles as they let the horses out to pasture.

His hands moved from your shoulders to your upper arms, squeezed.

"Do you know why we took you?"

You shook your head. Ransom, maybe? But your pa was just a run of the mill rancher. Surely there were better targets for quick cash than you.

The outlaw laughed quietly, just a soft breath of amusement.

"Not the faintest clue, huh?"

He let go of you and you heard the soft rustle of material as he shrugged out of his duster.

He turned you around and you finally got to see his face. He'd taken off his Stetson and bandana too, and the man looking back at you was a hardened outlaw in every way. He was a lot older than you, with thick blonde hair going to grey at the edges. Handsome, with a strong jaw covered in light stubble. Grizzled, but muscular and lean for his age.

There was a small, amused smile on his lips.

He kept his hands on your arms and guided you backwards, until your back hit the wall.

"You wanna take a guess? Why'd we ride all the way out to town to steal you?"

Whatever you said was muffled by your gag. He clicked his tongue.

"You're gonna have to use your worlds, darlin'."

He ran his thumb across your cheek, across the gag. "Or maybe not. I like you just like this too."

He was close. Closer than any man had ever been. It was terrifying. Tears spilled down your cheeks, running across your gag and soaking in.

He sighed, caught one on his thumb.

"None of that now girl. I ain't gonna be rough with you. And in time, I reckon you'll come to like it."

Your dress was buttoned at the front, all the way to your neck. He grabbed both sides of your collar and ripped.

You tried to jerk away from him, but he was too close and the only way out was blocked by the wall. Buttons scattered across the room with little plinks.

The only thing keeping your dress on was the fact that your hands were tied behind your back. But the outlaw didn't let that stop him for long.

He leaned down and pulled a knife from his boot.

"Don't squirm 'round and I won't cut you, alright?"

Sound advice, but not something you were about to listen to. You thrashed in his grip, twisting as much as you could. You didn't want that thing anywhere near you.

He grabbed your hair, and yanked your head backwards. You screamed into your gag, your whole scalp aching.

You might have continued fighting, but that's when you felt the cool metal of his knife at your throat. Not the sharp edge, but still enough of a reminder to keep you still.

"Good. Not so hard, is it?"

The knife moved away from your neck and to your sleeve. He slipped the blade between your skin and the fabric and yanked upwards.

Your sleeve tore with an ugly ripping sound, all the way down to the wrist. You whined into your gag, but he ignored you and repeated it on the other side.

He was breathing heavier now, even though the work of keeping you still couldn't have been much of a challenge for a man as strong as him. He put the handle of his knife in his mouth and used both hands to pull your dress off you. It pooled at your ankles, ruined.

You still had your chemise, but the thin white fabric was almost as bad as being naked. Your nipples poked through and he narrowed in on them, one hand coming up to cup your breast. His teeth were biting into the handle of his knife, hard enough to leave indents in the wood. Like a man struggling to control himself. He breathed out slowly, just feeling the weight of your tits in his palms.

You were crying so hard you almost couldn't see his face. A mixture of pity and want.

He kneeled down to put his knife away and stayed on his knees, hands coming to your hips. He looked up at you, blue eyes bright with something you didn't yet know how to recognise. Lust. Want.

His thumbs stroked circles into your skin, your chemise the only barrier between you and him.

"If I was a better man, I'd almost be sorry about this."

He grabbed your leg and hooked your thigh over his shoulder. You almost stumbled, forced to keep your back against the wall if you didn't want to loose your balance.

His fingers gathered your chemise from the hem up, pinning it at your waist with his palms. You were wearing stockings, simple white ones that reached your mid thigh, and plain lace garters.

All in all, it was a damn nice framing for your bare cunt.

God, he could practically feel his mouth watering.

He didn't give you any warning. Just slipped his tongue between your lips. Hot, wet, like nothing you'd ever felt. You tried to squirm away, practically tried to climb up the wall to get away from him. But he had you trapped, one massive palm on your hip and the other on your thigh.

He found your hole real easy. Slipped his tongue all the way in, the bridge of his nose grinding into your clit. You whined at him to stop it, to please just let you go, but with the gag, all he heard was a pretty little sound that made him keep going.

He sucked on your clit, his jawline standing out in sharp relief. His stubble scraped your thighs. So masculine, so unbearably, overwhelmingly manly.

With the way he held you still, you couldn't do anything except take it. Feel even inch of his tongue, feel his hot breath on your skin, feel his nails scraping your thigh. You wanted to hate it. You wanted to be disgusted by it.

But oh, it felt good.

Sometimes, when the neighbour's handsome son came over, you'd feel a little throbbing ache between your legs. This was exactly like that, cranked up to a thousand.

You whined again, and he must have been the Devil's own son, because he just doubled down. Swirled the flat of his tongue across your whole clit and then ran it down all the way to you ass.

You thighs were shaking, and the pit of your stomach felt tight with something your couldn't explain.

"That's my girl." He sounded pleased, smug. Practically cooing at you in his rough baritone. "Feels real good, don't it?"

If he didn't break soon, you felt like your whole body would. Something inside you was building, getting closer to the edge. And you were terrified of it. You breath was coming hard and fast.

Mercifully, he pulled away. Kissed the triangle of your pussy and then your inner thigh. You could feel his teeth against your skin when he smiled.

"Not yet. I ain't nearly close to done with you."

He stood and you weren't sure whether to be thankful or upset. You felt woozy, hot. Like heat stroke, or like getting drunk.

His mouth and chin glistened. He rubbed it dry on his palm, smirking all the while.

"I bet you feel real empty inside, huh sweetheart?"

You nodded your head, not sure where he was going with this. You did feel empty. There was a hot, throbbing itch in your stomach that you had no idea how to scratch.

"Aww, poor thing. I can take care of that for you."

His hands moved to his belt, blue eyes pinning you to the wall. When he smiled, there were lines around his eyes. They should have been comforting, a mark of someone who laughed often and laughed easy. They weren't.

You shook your head, pleading with your eyes. The tears were starting to come again, thick and fast. For a second or two, with his tongue deep in your core, you'd forgotten that he'd want something in exchange.

His eyes hardened, his smile not moving an inch.

"I will take care of it, girl. You can cry if you want, but we've come too far to stop now."

He grabbed your thigh and pulled your leg up, forced you back against the wall. Your whole cunt was wet and glistening with his spit.

Something hot and hard rubbed between your pussy lips. You shuddered, tried to move away. His other arm came around your waist and he pulled you against his chest. The smell of him was overwhelming - gunpowder and leather and whiskey. He smelled like a man. He smelled like your ruin.

Your forehead fell against his collarbone, and his chin came to rest on the crown of your head. The same way a father might hold his daughter after a nightmare.

But there was nothing fatherly about the cock nudging at your entrance.

"Shhh, you're okay. It ain't gonna hurt."

Liar. Terrible, heartless liar.

He pushed in and it felt like your whole body was splitting apart. It burned.

You sobbed into his chest, not entirely sure what was happening to you. This was the sort of thing that was only whispered about. The sort of thing that was kept vague for good, obedient girls until their wedding nights. The only thing you knew for a fact was that it hurt and you wanted it to stop.

He groaned, pressed a kiss against your hair.

"Sweet little thing, ain't ya? Gonna be good 'fer me? Gonna take it nice and deep?"

You couldn't answer. There was only the stretch of his cock inside you and the oppressive tightness of his arms.

He set a slow, drawn out pace. Cock pulling all the way out to the tip and then sliding right back in. You could feel every inch.

Not gentle, but not needlessly mean either. You were shivering in his arms, pussy fluttering like a heartbeat around him.

No one but him knew how fucking difficult it was to keep so slow. Tight, tiny little thing bleeding and crying all over him. Any red blooded man would want to rut into you like a stallion. See just how many tears he could wring out of you.

It was only experience and determination that held him back. If he was a younger man...

It was the right decision to have you first. Not even his second in command - that tall bastard with all the self control in the world - could have managed this.

He huffed out a laugh.

"You're little too young for me, doll. Reckon I could be your father."

He slid back inside you, grinding against your clit in a way that made you whimper.

"Shitty fucking father though. To be doing this to my little girl."

He let go of waist and cupped your jaw in his palm. Tilted your head back, his nose and lips skimming up your neck. You smelled so fucking good. Nothing in this world was as sweet as a needy, crying girl.

"You gonna call me daddy, little girl? Gonna beg me to be nice and let you go?"

You whimpered, a pathetic little sound through the gag. It only made him smile against your neck.

"Thaaat's it. Just take it. Let me break you in. Gonna be all stretched out and sweet when I'm done with you, yeah?"

He sucked at your neck, at the delicate spot where your shoulder started to slope away. A little immature maybe, to want to mark you up like an animal, but wasn't he being plenty mature already? Wasn't he being just saintly in his patience?

"Fuck, you're getting close, ain'tcha? Can feel you gettin' all tight."

He pulled back to look into your eyes, overflowing with tears and just so damn scared.

"You ain't got no idea what's 'bout to happen, do ya?"

He pulled almost all the way out, and then slammed back in, hard. Your tits jumped and your eyes fluttered shut.

"Just relax and let it happen. It's gonna feel reeaal good."

You tilted your head back and he followed you, lips right back at your throat.

He picked up the pace, trying not to be too rough and slowly failing. The closer he got to his own end, the less important kindness seemed. It wasn't long 'fore he was slamming into you so hard he could feel your tits bouncing. His breath was coming fast, each exhale almost a growl.

"Take it, just like that. C'mon doll, just let me fuck you. Just let me make you mine."

You bit down on your gag and came. Your whole body shook, your nails digging into your palms. You didn't now what he'd done to you, but you couldn't stop it. Your pussy was a clenching, sensitive mess. You felt light headed enough to faint. And the only sound and thought in your head was his voice, right in your ear and rough with barely held back want.

"That's my girl. My good fucking girl."

A good man might have slowed down then. Might have realised just how sensitive you were. He didn't. He kept pistoning his cock into you, fucked you through your orgasm.

You writhed on his dick, in pain and overwhelmed and more scared than you'd ever been. And all of it just served to make him harder, to bring him closer. Even he had to admit he was a bastard for enjoying it so much. He didn't deserve something so sweet. All he deserved in life was a short dance with a noose. But who gave a fuck about that? He'd taken you, he'd stolen you, and like any good thief, he was going to enjoy you.

You felt it when he came. His cock pulsed and twitched inside you, and something hot dripped down your thigh.

He pressed his forehead against yours, hands so tight on you that you felt bruised.

He came down slowly. Kept you plugged up with his cock while he softened. The only sound in the room was his harsh breathing. You couldn't even cry anymore. All you wanted was to close your eyes and sleep and make the pain disappear.

He pulled back and tilted your chin up.

"Look at me."

You opened your eyes, tears still caught in your lashes.

"There she is. Ain't so bad, is it?"

All you could do was sniffle and hope he was bored of you.

He let you down carefully. You weren't steady on your feet at all.

"I've had a lot of blood on my cock over the years, darlin', but I reckon yours is the finest."

He kissed you. You were still gagged, so it was less a kiss and more so his lips pressing against yours.

When he finally stepped away from you, you almost wanted him back. You sank down to your knees, too dizzy to stand.

"Poor thing. Too much to handle, doll?"

He ran his fingers through your hair.

"You did so good, princess. Now just stay so sweet, and the rest of this day will go a hell of a lot easier for you."

You were too out of it to figure out what he meant. You closed your eyes and heard his spurs jingling as he walked away. The door creaked open and then he was gone.

You might have tried to run for it, but you ached so bad that even the thought of it was painful. Your hands were still tied as tight as they were before.

You didn't notice the footsteps or the voices until they were right outside the door.

"So much for bein' nice. Boss left her a right mess."

"Better than you woulda done. Least she's still in one piece."

They came to stand in front of you, two men with their bandanas pulled down around their throats.

You recognised their voices. These two were the most quarrelsome of the bunch. They still had their gun belts on, both of them carrying revolvers. Gunslingers then. Every gang had them.

"Look at her already on her knees 'fer us."

"Why you cryin' pretty girl? Was the boss too mean with ya?"

You looked up slowly. Boots first - silver spurs, well worn leather. Then their belts. And finally, their faces.

One was dark skinned, a crescent scar on his cheek and his hair cropped short. He rubbed his jaw as he looked at you, a half smile showing pearly white teeth.

"Oh, would ya look at those eyes? A man could drown in 'em."

The other was tanned golden with the sun, his eyes a pale green. He was still wearing his Stetson, and his dark hair was long enough to brush his shoulders.

"Boss must be getting old. He left some of her clothes on."

That made the dark one laugh. "Nah, I reckon it's meant to be a treat just 'fer us. Like unwrapping a present on Christmas mornin'."

The green eyed one squated down in front on you and grabbed your jaw. His hands were rough from labour, and his callouses scraped your skin. Whatever he saw in your eyes made him smile, but it didn't have a lick of kindness in it.

"Look at that...Boss really did break you in, didn't he filly?"

He stood and pulled you up with him, hand still clutching your jaw.

"I reckon she's gonna be real sweet to us. Gonna be all nice and obedient."

The other one came to stand behind you, his fingertips brushing the nape of your neck as he moved your hair out of the way.

"That right, filly? You gonna be all sweet?"

The green eyed one nodded your head for you. His eyes had a certain cruelty to them that made you want to step away. He seemed the type to use spurs and whips both, and to use them often.

He let go of your jaw and focused on the rest of you. And oh, what a lovely sight you were. All tied up and crying, your tits just visible through your chemise. A little virgin about to loose the rest of your innocence to his teeth. A fucking vision, a fucking dream.

He pinched one of your nipples and rolled it between his fingers. Your thin chemise wasn't any protection at all.

"Sensitive, ain'tcha?"

You whined. Not sure whether to pull away or step closer.

The gunslinger behind you wasn't in the mood to be left out. As his partner tugged and played with your nipples, his hands came to rest on your waist. And what huge hands they were. You could feel the heat of him even through your clothes.

He dropped his head to the nape of your neck and inhaled, his nose buried in your hair.

When he spoke, his voice was a low rumble.

"What do you want?"

The green eyed one looked you up and down, weighing his options. Finally, he smiled.

"I'll take her mouth."

Your whole body went cold. He couldn't mean...

"Hmm. That's fine with me." His hands dropped from your waist to your ass, squeezing. "I want to have her from the back anyway."

They must have been in perfect sync with each other. The one in front of you stood aside and the one behind you pushed you towards the bed. You stumbled, landed on the duvet chin first, your teeth slamming together despite the gag.

You didn't have time to push yourself up before they were tearing your chemise off. The thin straps ripped and your last bit of modesty floated to the floor in a tattered white heap. You were left in just your stockings.

The dark one pulled you up by your hips, one hand grabbing the rope around your wrists to keep you steady.

Smack.

Your whole body jerked forward, your ass cheek stinging.

One of them laughed, mocking. "Bet that'll leave a mark."

The dark one ran his palm over the welt, smiling though you couldn't see it.

"We promised the boss we would be nice, remember?"

The green eyed one circled the bed. You could feel his eyes on you, drinking in your naked skin, your stockings, the tears soaking your gag.

His hands were on his belt. Not undoing it yet, just watching you.

"Y'know, I give that tall bastard a lot of shit, but even I gotta say he was right this time. She's a real cute thing."

The man behind you was still stroking your ass, squeezing and watching your flesh give under his fingers. So soft, so fucking pliable.

He hummed quietly, more concerned with you than with his partner. He slipped his thumb down between your cheeks, catching on your asshole for a second. That sent a jolt of panic through you. They wouldn't...

He must have felt you moving, because he sighed and let his fingers continue downwards. Smearing cum and blood across your pussy lips.

"Not today," he said, soft enough for just you to hear. "Boss wouldn't like that."

That wasn't reassuring to hear. It meant that he still wanted it. Wanted to fuck your virgin ass without any care for the pain, for the hurt. The thing stopping him wasn't empathy, but obedience.

He rubbed tight, harsh circles into your clit. You were still sensitive and you pleaded into your gag, asking him to be just a bit more gentle. Either he couldn't understand you or didn't bother to even hear you, because he carried on, fingerpads rough as sandpaper.

The green eyed one noticed though. He seemed to notice just about everything.

"Want me to take that gag off sweetheart?"

You nodded your head frantically. The sides of your lips felt raw and you couldn't stand the taste of it.

He kneeled with one leg on the bed and undid the material. When he pulled it away, thin lines of spit followed.

You sucked in a lungful of air, coughing. He gathered your hair out of your face, held it all in a loose fist at the back of your head.

"All better?"

Maybe you were wrong about him. Maybe he wasn't so bad.

"...yes." You swallowed, your voice still hoarse. "Thank you."

He tilted his head, smirking.

"So polite. Boss really did a number on ya, huh? Or are ya just a well bred little lady?"

You didn't get a chance to answer, because the other gunslinger ground his palm against your cunt. You yelped and jerked forward on instinct.

The green eyed one tightened his hold on your hair.

"None of that. You can take it."

"I can't! It hurts."

His free hand tugged at his belt, pulling it free of the belt loops. You blanched. What the hell did he need that for?

"Ain't even been a minute and you're already whining? C'mon pretty, there's better things to do with your mouth than that."

He let go of your hair long enough to loop the belt around your neck, the leather wrapped around his fist. He tugged and it tightened, metal buckle pressing icy cold against your skin.

He pulled upwards, forced you to look at him. His cat eyes were mean, amused at seeing you leashed.

"You even think 'bout usin' your teeth and I'll pull this so tight you won't even be able to think 'bout breathing. Got it?"

What was he talking about? Your teeth?

Your answer came soon enough. With his belt off, it was real easy for him to take his cock out. He sighed, relieved to have it free.

The only thing keeping you in place was the belt around your neck. Even still, you pulled backwards until you couldn't go any further.

It was huge.

Thick, with veins running all the way to the tip. That was supposed to fit inside of you? You'd never seen a man's cock before. Even when the boss fucked you, you'd only felt it. No fucking wonder it hurt so bad, if they were all this size.

It was horrifying, and still you couldn't look away.

"Ain't it a sight?"

He grabbed it with his free hand and yanked your head down with the belt, until the tip brushed your lips.

"Come have a closer look."

Maybe if your hands were free, you'd be able to pull away. But as it was, you were staying balanced only because of his grip on the belt and his partner's grip on your arms.

He rubbed the tip across your lips, leaving behind a sticky coating of precum.

"Don't be shy," he purred, "Give it a little kiss."

The belt tightened until you listened. You pecked the side of it, where it wasn't so gross and sticky.

"Atta girl. Now open wide."

You desperately didn't want to. He tasted of salt, and his cock was so hard that you couldn't even imagine how it would fit.

You didn't want to, but what choice did you have?

You opened your mouth and he pushed himself past your lips with a groan. The tip scraped against your tongue, soft as velvet and tasting like the sea.

He let go of his dick and tangled his hand in your hair, pushing your head lower. Until the tip brushed the back of your throat. You gagged, shivering all around him.

"God, your mouth is fucking heaven sent."

He pulled out slowly, until it was just the tip sitting in your mouth.

"Are you gonna join me or what?"

The other gunslinger snorted.

"Fucking impatient. You gotta treat a lady gentle on her first time."

You heard the rustle of clothing behind you, and the hand that was playing with your cunt came to rest on your hip, fingers digging into the flesh for a good grip.

Your cunt felt cold without his touch, but his fingers were quickly replaced with his cock. The head nudged at your entrance, hot enough that you could practically feel it radiating. The leaking pre mixed with the sticky come already on your lips, thin strands of white pulling and breaking as he settled himself against you.

You wanted to say something, anything, to make them stop, but the gunslinger still had his dick in your mouth.

"Hmmm. Nice and warm and I ain't even pushed inside yet."

"Ain't she? Like she was made for us."

His hand slid from your hair to you jaw, thumb tracing your cheek. He could see the bulge of his cock against your cheek - it made you look a little chipmunk getting all cozy and ready for winter. Your tears were caught on your lashes, silver dew drops like you just took a swim.

"You heard me, baby? You're made for us. Made to fuck us and keep us happy. Our little lady."

They both pushed into you at the same time.

Thick cock bullying into you, trapping you between them with nowhere to go. You wanted to scream, but you couldn't. You couldn't even think. Couldn't even breathe.

The green eyed cowboy pulled on your leash and forced you to tilt your head back, bare your throat to him. He pushed deeper into you, until his dick was down your throat and your nose was brushing the hard muscles of his stomach.

He held you there, cock down your throat and tears collecting in your eyes, while his partner started thrusting.

You couldn't breathe.

You couldn't pull away, couldn't fight him. You could just look up at him, eyes all wide and scared. Your panic was thick in your blood and he drank it in.

Smirking, keeping you at his mercy. He knew you couldn't breathe, and he still held you on his cock.

Your heart was racing and you felt light headed before he finally pulled out. You gasped, thick strings of spit connecting you. He only gave you enough time to catch a few deep breaths before he was back in your mouth, thrusting. Going just as deep but thankfully pulling out.

You gagged and choked and felt like you were drowning on his cock. And all the while, his partner yanked you back and slammed balls deep into you.

It was too much. You couldn't focus on anything. You were limp in their hands, letting them fuck you and just trying to survive it.

You weren't sure how long it took. Your whole world was narrowed down to just them - their hands on you, getting tighter and meaner the closer they got to coming.

The one fucking you from the back let go of your hip and curled his whole arm around your waist, leaning over you until his lips were on your neck. Fucking you hunched over like a dog in heat.

He bit your shoulder, sunk his teeth in with a snarl.

They didn't talk much anymore. There weren't any words left. Just the need to fuck and claim and come.

The sounds were the worst. The slick squelching of a cock in your cunt, the slap of skin on skin, the heavy snarls for you to take it like a good girl. And their raspy breathing, like stallions after a gallop.

The gunslinger pulled harder on your leash, keeping you still while he fucked your face. He's teeth were gritted tight, his eyes narrowed and focused entirely on you.

The dark one must have hit something deep inside you, because you made a whining, moaning sort of noise that vibrated all through his cock.

That was what did it. He forced his cock all the way down your throat, held you in place while he came.

When he pulled out, you were coughing so hard your whole chest ached.

That's when you felt it - hot spunk splattering all over your asshole. Your whole body shuddered at the feeling.

The man behind you kissed your back between your shoulder blades and slowly moved down. When he came to your ass cheeks, he sunk his teeth in with a playful growl.

He flipped you onto your back, and you sunk bonelessly down onto the covers. Your nipples were tender and your neck was a patchwork of marks.

The dark skinned one flopped down next to you and threw a possessive arm around your waist. He hummed, pleased as a bear before winter.

"Best fuck I've had in ages."

His partner was silent, his fingers toying with the belt still around your neck. You tilted your head back to look at him.

He was smiling, not soft exactly but about as close as a cruel bastard like him could get. He was so handsome, when he wasn't trying to choke you.

He sighed and let his fingers drift up your cheeks.

"I wish we could stay, pretty. But the day ain't done just yet."

The other one grumbled. "Can't we just lay here for a bit? I've got my girl all nice and snug. Why should I let her go?"

"Boss's orders, that's why. We gotta play nice and share."

"Why? Those bastards don't deserve her."

"And we do?"

He didn't bother to answer, just pushed himself to his elbows and looked down at you. His eyes were a deep brown. Sweet, almost.

"No," he said quietly, "We don't."

He leaned down and kissed your cheek. Soft, like a husband would. He stood and only looked back at you when he was at the door. Hard man, killer and gunslinger that he was, you thought you saw just a little guilt in his eyes.

When he was gone, the green eyed gunslinger ran his hands through your hair.

"He's right, y'know. We don't deserve a girl like you."

There wasn't any guilt in his voice, just a deep sense of satisfaction.

"But we've got you anyway. If the world gave folk what they deserved, you'd never have been so unlucky to catch our eye in the first place."

He leaned down and pressed a kiss against your other cheek, and then nipped at your jaw. A coyote savouring a bone.

"You'll learn to take it, sweetheart. And when I'm done, you'll learn to like it."

He left his belt around your neck and let the door slam shut behind him.

You could hear when they joined the others out in the yard. Their laughter drifted up to you, sharp as a wild dog's bark.

You closed your eyes. On your back in nothing but your stockings and a leash. It wasn't the sort of thing you'd ever imagined as a possibility. Hell, a lot of today was filled with things you'd never even thought about.

You hurt in just about every place. But parts of you throbbed with a pain that wasn't entirely unwanted.

Traitorous body, traitorous mind.

You couldn't possibly like this. You were being used by criminals, killers. Your virginity was just another prize for them to steal. You were a good girl, raised in a good home with upright, moral parents. You weren't some lady of the night, some harlot, to enjoy their roughness.

Right?

When the door sighed open, you didn't even bother to open your eyes.

"These young ones don't know any gentleness, eh beauty?"

His voice was calm. The sort of soft tone you'd use with a filly still nervous 'bout the bit.

You could hear his footsteps. Heavy boots but no spurs.

You flinched when he touched the belt around your neck, but he didn't do much more than run his fingers across the leather.

"Let's get this off you. Idiots. You don't harness a creature so fine."

He pulled it off your neck carefully and then touched the bruises it left behind.

"Open your eyes for me, beauty. Let me see you."

You almost didn't. What more was there to see? Another man with too tight hands and a hunger that wouldn't end?

It was his voice that did it. So kind. No growl behind the words, no clenched teeth snarl.

The first thing you saw were his eyes. A dark hazel, like an eagle's.

"Ah, just as pretty as I thought. Do you want to sit up for me? Those ropes must be hurting something awful by now."

He was older than you, but not by too much. Older than the gunslingers, but not nearly as old as the boss. His hair was tied in braid that fell almost all the way down his back. Lakota, if you had to guess, or maybe Crow.

There was a pair of workman's gloves shoved in the pocket of his jeans, but he didn't carry a pistol. The wrangler most likely.

You sat up slowly, wary. He didn't seem awfully worked up about a naked woman sprawled on the bed in front of him. Maybe he wasn't so bad...

He untied your hands without letting his own wander.

You flexed your fingers and carefully brought your hands to your lap. Your shoulders ached from being stuck in one position for so long.

"Will you let me go?"

"Oh, beauty." He touched his knuckles to your cheek. "That's what you want, isn't it? To go back home?"

"Yes." Your throat felt tight with tears. "More than anything."

He closed his eyes.

"It hurts to see you cry, beauty. It hurts to see these marks on you. But even if I was the only one holding you back, even if it was entirely up to me... I wouldn't."

"Are you going to do the same thing as the rest of them?"

He held your face in his palms, thumbs tracing your cheekbones. He smiled, but it was awfully sad.

"It's been real long time since I've had a woman, beauty. And never one so fine. I'm still just a man."

You were crying again, though you didn't realise it. Tears washing hot over his fingers.

"Shhh." He leaned down and kissed your forehead. "I'll be gentle. I won't hurt you."

He undid his belt slowly, eyes on you the entire time. You were on your knees again, your stockings making you look oh so innocent and oh so filthy all at once.

He grabbed your hand before he took his cock out. You pulled away, but his grip was too strong. Not rough, not hurting you. Just too firm to escape.

He brought you hand to his crotch, pressed your palm against his cock. Even through the thick denim of his jeans, you could feel how hard it was.

"All your doing, beauty. That's all your fault."

He undid the last button and his dick pushed it's way free. Big and no less intimidating for being the second one today. His fingers were knotted between yours and he dragged your hand up his shaft. He sighed, a man finally getting release.

"Here, this will go faster if you use your mouth."

His other hand came to rest on the nape of your neck. Not forcing you down exactly, but heavy, inexorable. Trying to refuse him was like fighting the pull of the moon.

He didn't force himself into you like the gunslinger did. Just kept using your hand - still dry - to stroke himself.

"Come now beauty. Just a little lick and it will all be over. You want that, don't you?"

You did. You wanted this day to end.

You cautiously licked the head of his cock, your tongue almost blistering hot. He groaned and for just a second, the hand on your nape tightened. Like he really did just want to pull you onto him and have his own way.

"There you go. Not so terrible, is it?"

It wasn't. He tasted salty, but not in an unpleasant way. And hearing him groan like that made some part of your gut flutter.

You felt just a little braver. When he pulled you closer, you let him. He rubbed the tip against your lips, smearing pre-cum all over them.

You didn't want his cock down your throat. Didn't want to feel like you were choking. But everything he'd done to you so far had been miles different to the gunslingers. Maybe he'd be different in this too.

Slowly, you opened your mouth. You expected him to shove himself inside you, betray the tiny bit of trust he'd built.

He didn't. Instead, he stood perfectly still. He even stopped using your hand, though he kept it wrapped around the base. Just letting you get comfortable. Letting you explore.

It was what your daddy did when he was working to tame a colt. He'd let them get used to him a little at a time, until they didn't mind his touch at all.

You were too nervous to take him in much deeper than the tip. But he didn't complain at all, just watched you with those golden eyes.

You sucked on him. Just the tip, but you wrapped your lips around him and treated it like it was candy. You flicked your tongue across the underside of his head, eyes locked on his to see if he liked it.

And from the way his breathing was picking up, you reckoned he liked it plenty.

Hadn't the gunslinger wanted you to kiss his? Maybe that's what men wanted. You pulled off his cock with a wet little pop and turned your attention to his shaft. You kissed him - small, shy little pecks all the way down to his hand and then back up again.

He was smiling, head tilted. He almost seemed amused.

"So that's how you like it, huh?"

You hummed, not sure how to respond. Both the gunslingers and the boss kept getting faster the closer they were to finishing. Maybe if you used your hand...

He seemed surprised when you moved your palm, but it didn't last long. When he was sure of what you were doing, he let go of your hand and let you do it all by yourself.

There was a lot of friction and you couldn't go as fast as you wanted without yanking on him. You needed some kind of lube, something to make him all slick...

Oh.

Of course.

You licked him, all the way from balls to tip, trying to drool on his cock as much as possible. He shivered, voice getting just a bit tighter.

"Careful girl. You're playing with fire."

You didn't know what he meant. All you wanted was to finish this. Be able to rest and dream sweet dreams, dreams without men's hands on your body.

His cock was wet with your spit and when you started using your hand, it squelched lewdly.

He groaned, his hand coming to your jaw and his thumb tracing your lips.

"Open your mouth for me, beauty."

You did. You couldn't look away from his eyes. That burnished gold like dead man's treasure.

He pressed his thumb against your tongue, ran it over your teeth. He seemed just as captivated by you as you were by him. The men outside were laughing again, voices raised and vulgar. But he didn't for a second look away from you.

He smiled and said something to you in a language you didn't understand.

Your hand was moving a lot faster now that you'd found your stride, your thumb brushing over his slit on every third stroke. The only sign that he was getting closer was his breathing.

At the last second, he pulled his thumb out of your mouth and rested his tip against your lips.

Hot spunk shot at you, some of it dribbling down your chin and some of it coating your tongue. He groaned, jaw clenched tight. He was panting like a dog on a hot day, still looking at you like you were the finest thing he'd ever seen.

He pulled his cock away and replaced it with his thumb, smearing his load between your lips and across your teeth. He spoke in his language again, words just a little more forceful than before.

You thought he was done with you. Thought he'd be satisfied with leaving.

Instead, he leaned down and kissed you. One hand was still on your nape and you had no room to pull away.

It was your first proper kiss. He was hungry, his tongue scraping across your teeth. One hand came to rest behind you on the bed, and he slowly forced you down, still caught between his lips and his hand.

He ended up between your legs, still not letting you go even though you were both almost out of breath.

"Beauty," he muttered, lips pressing against on yours.

When he finally broke away, he didn't go far. He rested his forehead to yours, breathing hard. You were sharing the same air, in that tight little space. And somehow that felt more intimate than anything else the outlaws had done to you.

He was practically lying on top of you, the hand that held your neck now tangled in your hair, and his other at your waist. He held you like a lover would.

A lover. Would you ever have one, if they let you go? Who would want you after your virgin's blood was spilled?

He kissed your cheek, slow and lingering.

"Oh beauty, how can I be so lucky?"

He didn't let you go. Just held you underneath him and laid his head on the side of your neck.

You were tense, muscles all coiled and ready to be hurt. But in his arms, you relaxed a little at a time without even realising it. This man wouldn't hurt you, whatever his reasons were.

His dark hair had come loose from it's braid and you absentmindedly brushed it off his brow. That made him smile just a little.

It had grown quiet outside and the only sound was of the breeze rustling the curtains and his soft breathing.

"How did such a kind man become an outlaw?"

You didn't really mean to ask that. And kind couldn't be applied to him without qualifiers. But in the face of everything that had happened to you, his softness was saintly.

He hummed against your neck.

"Bad luck. Bad people. Having nowhere to go back to. It changes you."

You swallowed, sad though you weren't sure why.

"I'm sorry."

He pushed himself up and looked into your eyes.

"Don't be. You're my reward, my reparation."

He brushed his knuckles across your cheek again. "I've waited my whole life for you."

You wanted to ask why. What made you so special? Why did he want to keep you?

The door opened with a bang.

"Are ya really still busy? That ain't fuckin' fair."

The gunslingers were standing in the door, both of them looking irritated. Your whole body tensed. They couldn't be back so soon, could they?

The wrangler pushed himself to his knees. The way he was sitting, your hips ended up on his lap with your legs on either side of him. He put a hand on your thigh absent-mindedly.

When he looked back at them, any softness in him drained away. He was just another outlaw with hard eyes.

"Is it the boy? Boss is really letting you go through with it?"

"It's 'bout time he became a man. And you're the one who was goin' on 'bout playing nice."

The wrangler sighed and looked back at you. When he spoke, it was just for you to hear. 

"I don't want to leave you, beauty. But boss's orders."

He leaned down and kissed you, ignoring the gunslingers' cat calls.

When he stood up, you had half a mind to ask him to stay. You almost reached for him. But the gunslingers were watching you and something in you whispered that showing him favour was a terrible idea. You kept your hands knotted in the sheets. For both your sakes.

When he was gone, you sat up and pushed yourself all the way back to the headboard. Hugged your knees to your chest. You hadn't noticed him earlier, but the gunslingers had a boy with them.

They were half dragging him into the room, one with his hand on the boy's nape and the other with a fist in his shirt.

He was young, barely past eighteen. Slightly built, with pale eyes and bronze curls. He wasn't looking at you. Or more accurately, he was doing everything possible to avoid looking at you.

The gunslingers gave him a rough shove and he landed on the bed, bouncing a little before he pushed himself up.

"Gonna get your first taste of a woman boy, and she's a real fine one."

The green eyed gunslinger leaned over and grabbed your ankle. With one brutal yank, he dragged you away from the headboard and all the way to the foot of the bed.

"Missed me, sweetheart? 'Cause I sure missed you."

He caught one of your wrists and tutted.

"Just like him to let you loose. Fuckin' hell, don't he realise how much easier you are when you're all tied up?"

He knelt with one boot on the mattress and pulled you up, twisting your arm behind your back so you ended up with your head tucked under his chin.

"We was feelin' real bad 'bout hurting you, pretty. So we thought we'd make it up to you. Brought you somethin' you'll really enjoy."

You were skeptical of anything he did. He wasn't the charitable kind.

The boy finally looked at you. His eyes were round, nervous.

"Do... do you want this?"

The gunslinger slapped a palm over your mouth before you could answer him, dragging you closer to him at the same time.

" 'Course she wants it. She'd be fighting a whole lot harder if she didn't. Ain't that right?"

"Would be clawing our eyes out if she really didn't want it," the other gunslinger agreed.

The boy looked rightly skeptical. You were crying an awful lot for someone who "wanted it."

"But..."

The dark skinned gunslinger sighed and grabbed the boy's neck.

"Look at her. You're tellin' me you ain't getting just a little hard seeing her like that?"

"Yes but -"

"But what? You want her. And she's right there for the taking. It ain't complicated."

The man holding you was obviously getting impatient.

"You wanna be a man? Wanna come on jobs with us? Than fucking earn it."

That seemed to decide him. He crawled towards you, just as scared to touch you as you were to be touched.

"What do I do?"

"Open her legs and start eating."

He touched your knee. He gulped, focused entirely on the feel of you. He slowly let his hands drift up your thighs.

When he reached your mid thighs, he tried to pull them apart just a little. You kept your legs as tightly closed as you could. Whatever you tried to say was muffled by the gunslinger's hand, but it was enough to make the boy look up at your face.

You could see it in his eyes. The desire to have you and the horror at knowing this was all forced. In the end, guilt won.

"I can't."

He pulled away from you, his fingers shaking.

"She doesn't want this. How can you hold her down and make her take it?"

The dark skinned gunslinger clicked his teeth in annoyance.

"God, could you be any more pathetic? It don't matter what she wants. All that matters is that you're strong enough to take what you want."

The boy was almost off the bed when the gunslinger grabbed his hair and yanked him back.

"It's a lesson you gotta learn boy. Or you ain't gonna live long in this business."

The boy yelped, hands coming up to try and pull himself loose. You could have told him it was useless - you couldn't escape their hold no matter how hard you fought.

He dragged the boy across the bed and back to you.

The gunslinger holding you could see where this was going and he laughed, mean and mocking.

"Gonna be the hard way, eh?"

His hand dropped from your mouth and curled around your throat. He squeezed, just hard enough to remind you of his strength.

"Be a good little pet and open your legs."

You didn't. Hadn't they done enough already? They'd ruined you. Why not just leave the boy alone?

The gunslinger growled. "Ain't listening so well without my belt around your throat, is that it?"

He twisted your arm further up your back, until your whole shoulder was throbbing. You squirmed, arching against him to get the pressure off. 

"Do I gotta teach you a whole new lesson in obedience? I promise I'm a much harder master than the boss."

He let go of you throat and grabbed your thigh, his fingers digging into the meat. His partner was quick to do the same on your other leg. It wasn't any good fighting them. They weren't scared of hurting you and they didn't care if they left bruises.

They wrenched your thighs apart and the gunslinger shoved the boys head between your legs.

"You ain't scared of a lil' blood, are ya? Clean her up nice and good."

The boy looked up at you with tears brimming in his waterline.

"I'm sorry."

He didn't have the boss's skill. His tongue was soft, hesitant. Probing, but totally unsure what to do.

You shivered at the feeling of his lips on your clit, his warm breath tickling your thighs.

The gunslinger growled and pushed him further down, until his nose was grinding into your folds.

"She ain't gonna get away. Use your whole tongue, suck on her, bite. Fuck's sake, do we gotta do everything for you?"

The one at your back laughed and nipped your cheek.

"She wants it though. Just look at those pretty tears."

The boy whimpered but did as he was told, dragging his tongue all the way up. His hands came to rest on your thighs, skin so much softer than the other men's.

His teeth brushed your clit and you gasped. The boy froze.

And then, he did it again.

You shuddered, thighs shaking just a little. He didn't seem to notice it, but his grip on your legs was getting tighter. He focused on the sensitive spot he'd found, raking his tongue across it.

You made another small, involuntary sound.

The man at your back purred. "There. Ain't that sweet to hear?"

The boy started to suck on your clit, tongue hot and wet. He pushed himself deeper, his nose and chin both buried in your cunt. He didn't even notice when the gunslinger let go of his hair.

He curled his arm around your lower back and pulled you closer to him, almost lifting you off the bed. The wet sounds of his sucking filled the room.

The gunslinger let go of you thigh, satisfied that the boy had a good grip on you. He kissed the corner of your lips, his hand coming up to play with your tits.

"Y'know, we never did get to make you come. Can't help wonderin' what you sound like."

You kept your jaw clenched tight. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction.

He must have read your mind, because he chuckled. Pinched your nipple hard enough that you bucked in his grip.

"Oh, you're going to come for us. Ain't that right boy?"

The boy muttered something and went right back to eating you out. You could feel the same heat in your belly as when the boss had you. Like a band about to snap. Every little move was too much, every flick of his tongue on your clit was somehow more intense.

You squirmed, trying everything you could to get him off. The boy ignored you. Just held on a little tighter and pinned you thigh to the bed.

"Please," you whined. "It's too much."

The gunslingers snickered at that.

"Poor darlin'. Does it hurt real good?"

"Don't fight it. Just let it happen. No one will know except us."

"And we're real good at keeping secrets."

The extra mean gunslinger pressed his cheek against yours and looked down at the boy between your legs.

"Don't tell me you're shy. We're real well acquainted by now, ain't we?"

You hated when he spoke to you like that. All sweetly condescending.

The boy wasn't letting up. Just kept sucking your clit and dipping his flexed tongue into your hole, switching from one to the other like he couldn't get enough. Like you were water in the desert and he'd drop dead without you in his mouth.

You fisted the duvet in your free hand, trying to distract yourself. No good. Your body had wants and needs of its own.

You could feel it building and there wasn't anything you could do to stop it.

You threw your head back and bit your lip, but it still wasn't enough. Small whines and gasps slipped through.

Your cunt was clenching, your whole belly a warm knot finally coming undone. It felt better than good.

It felt fucking incredible.

The boy didn't seem to notice. He just kept at it, even though your clit was swollen and aching and bright with blood.

The gunslinger noticed though. You could feel him smiling against your neck.

He tugged at your earlobe with his teeth and then kissed all the way down to your shoulder.

"Maybe we ought to be nicer, if that's what you sound like."

"Like a fox in a trap. Whinin' so nice 'fer us."

Your whole body felt like you touched lightening. And the boy's tongue was the worst if it.

"Please, enough. I...can't..."

The dark skinned gunslinger leaned closer to you, smiling in a way that wasn't nice at all.

"You're so sweet when you beg, filly. Ask politely and I'll get him off you."

You swallowed your pride. What was left of it after today anyway? They'd seen far too much of you for you to hold onto false modesty.

"Please. It's too much. Just make it stop."

Maybe it was your voice or maybe it was your tears or maybe he was just feeling merciful after emptying his balls inside you. He grabbed the boy's hair and hauled him up.

The kid's lips were red and swollen, his whole jaw slick with spit and spunk. He looked dazed, eyes still on the spot between your thighs.

"I'm not done yet. Can't I just..."

"Ain't complaining now, are ya? You see why we went through all that trouble for her?"

He was still holding onto you and he made a half hearted tug to get you closer to him.

"Five more minutes. Please."

The gunslinger scoffed. "You think just 'cause you had a taste you can make demands?"

He pulled the boy's hair and dragged him off the bed. His jeans were bulging at the crotch and his eyes never left you.

"But you said -"

"We said that you'd get a taste. Nothin' more."

The gunslinger holding you spoke up, his lips still pressed against your shoulder.

"You gotta earn it boy. Our girl ain't gonna be wasted on some greenhorn."

"Gonna have to make do with your fist, like the rest of us had to."

When the boy was off the bed, the gunslinger let go of your arm and shoved you forward. You landed on your forearms, your body sprawled in front of him.

He planted a hard smack on your ass and leaned over you, lips brushing your hair.

"You'd better dream about me sweetheart. Better feel me in your mouth when you close your eyes."

His fingers swiped across your cunt, rough and probing. You winced at the feel of him.

"Or else I'll just have to fuck you so hard the memory is burned into your mind."

You looked over your shoulder, eyes catching his for just a second. Long enough to realise he meant every word of his threat. He smirked, satisfied.

He stood and grabbed the boy by his upper arm. Together with his partner, they bundled him out the door. Business all finished, eh?

You sagged into the bed and watched them leave, your cunt still pulsing when you moved. You were exhausted and you looked it, too tired to push yourself up.

A hand caught the door before it closed.

Another one? How much more were you supposed to take?

The newcomer nudged the door back open and stood there for a minute, watching you. He had a bowl of water in his hand, a wash rag thrown over the side.

You hadn't seen his face before, but you recognised him. The tall, well spoken one who made you ride on his horse.

He was dressed better than most of the others. A black, silk waist coat and a crisp white shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. A silver cross dangled on a chain around his neck.

It made you want to laugh. What God could he worship, when he was a sinner so black?

"Hello dove."

You didn't answer. Just watched him with your cunt fluttering and your lips bruised. 

He was the palest out of them all, skin more like a scholar's than a cowboy's. He had black hair, as long as the gunslinger's, but tied back. He was probably Chinese, but born on this side of the Pacific. His accent was almost the same as yours.

He walked towards you slowly. Not nervous, but more like he was worried about spooking you.

He put the bowl of water down on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed, half facing you.

"It must hurt."

You stayed quiet. What did he know of hurt? He wasn't the one being held down and fucked.

He nodded at the bowl. You hadn't noticed it, but the water was a milky white.

"That's to clean you up. I reckon they left a few more cuts and scrapes than they intended."

You found your voice. Smaller, meeker than you remembered.

"Why do you care?"

"You think we don't care?"

You blinked. Of course you thought that. What else was there to think? They were outlaws who took you to satisfy themselves for an afternoon or two. What more could there be?

He laughed, but it was a bitter thing.

"Oh, qīn’ài de. If we didn't care, you'd still be a free woman."

You didn't understand what he was getting at. He sighed and reached for your ankle.

You jerked away. You didn't want to be touched ever again. Not by a man, not by anyone.

He sighed again.

"Don't be difficult. I want to help you."

"Why?"

He was quiet. Just watching you with his dark eyes. There was something familiar about him, though you couldn't tell what.

Finally, "You don't remember me."

You were in no frame of mind to care about his feelings.

"No."

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his forehead resting on his knuckles. Like a man at prayer. He turned his head a little to speak to you.

"It's been a long time, but you saved my life once."

You frowned, totally blank.

"You were still just a girl. Thirteen or fourteen maybe. I'd just turned twenty, part of a gang for the first time and too damn cocky."

He rubbed the skin just above his thumb. There was an ugly scar there, the skin still raised and puckered after all these years.

"Our heist went wrong. Sherrif and his deputies were waiting for us. I got shot. Not so bad that it would kill me, but bad enough that I couldn't make it home."

You couldn't see where this was going.

"Ended up in a barn, bleeding everywhere. I heard footsteps and I thought for sure I was done for. That the rancher was going to blow my brains all over the wall. But it wasn't him that found me."

You sat up slowly and ended up on your knees, your back to him. You thought you understood now, but you let him keep speaking.

"Wasn't him, but his daughter. Dropped the milk when she saw me but she didn't scream. Just came over and asked how she could help me. Me. A wanted man who'd just killed six deputies."

You didn't know that part of the story. All you remembered was the hot summer sun slanting through the cracks in the barn, and the young man bleeding out in the hay. You remembered him digging the bullet out and asking you to stitch him up, his face going all pale.

You closed you eyes and it was like you were right back there, hiding him in the hayloft and telling your pa the blood on your dress was from killing a chicken.

"Why did you do it?" he asked.

"Because you looked scared. And because I was a little in love with you."

That probably wasn't the answer he was expecting. You pulled in a shuddering breath.

"You were older than me, but still so young. The most handsome man I'd ever met. You told me you got shot by mistake, and not to tell anyone because it would get your little brother in trouble."

You could hear a smile in his voice.

"And you believed me?"

"Yes. Why would you lie to me? Outlaws were just a thing from stories. And I suppose I wanted to believe you. You told me I was going to be really pretty someday, that you'd have to come back and marry me. No one had ever said anything like that to me."

He hummed. "You really thought I was handsome?"

"Yes."

He still was, but he had none of the sweet, boyish softness you remembered. He was handsome in a hard, dangerous way. Diamond rough. You could cut your skin on the sharpness of him.

"But what does that have to do with anything? Why...why do this to me, if you owe me your life?"

He sighed and reached for you. He hooked his arm around your waist and dragged you onto his lap.

"I kept checking in on you over the years, do you know that? Every time I was near your ranch I'd ride out and look for you. Always watching."

"Why?"

"I felt like I owed you. I wanted to make sure you were fine. And when you got older...well, I just liked looking at you."

You shivered. There was something in his voice, a longing far deeper than anyone of the other cowboys'.

"Will you let me go when you're done?"

He sighed and tucked your hair behind your ear.

"Maybe that would be the merciful option. But we aren't merciful men."

He pulled your head onto his shoulder when you started crying.

"You're going to stay with us, qīn’ài de. For a very, very long time."

"Why now? Why..."

His hand was soft in your hair, his voice even softer.

"You're young, lovely, a rancher's only child. How much longer 'til your pa started to consider marriage? And who would come knocking on his door? No, I couldn't loose you to them."

"You're the one..." you tried pulling away but he kept you still, head against his shoulder.

"Me," he agreed, "I'm the one to blame for this. And even knowing that, I wouldn't take it back."

"The others..."

"Brutes, aren't they? But they're my brothers. And once they saw you, they wanted you too."

He said he couldn't loose you to another man, but that didn't make any sense.

"If that's true, why did you let the others..." You swallowed, not sure how to go on.

"Why did I let the others have you first?"

You nodded. He played with the cross on his necklace. Finally, he spoke.

"Because I want the most time with you."

He pulled away to look at you and you realised how wrong you were. It wasn't that he didn't feel any lust for you, it was just that he hid it far better than the rest of them.

But now... oh, his was the worst you'd seen. Boiling hot, on the end of its tether. This was a man who wanted you. Who'd spent years wanting you.

He laid a palm on your thigh.

"They got you for an hour each maybe. But I'm going to have you all night."

[lyinyao]

as both a hardcore wind breaker fan and carat april 3rd gives me turbulent waves of emotion