#yang x reader

as yang sat down on your lap, pushing your chair a bit away from the desk, you finally had to stop writing and couldn't ignore her any longer.

“oh, yang!” you acted surprised that yang was here. “sorry, i was too focused on my studies! were you here this entire time~?”

“don't play dumb with me.” yang lovingly ruffled your hair. “exams are all over, so there's nothing to study for. and i know you've been ignoring me on purpose.”

“why would i do that~?” you hummed innocently, batting your eyes at your girlfriend.

“because you know what happens when you tease me like this~” yang hummed right back, before pressing her lips onto yours, for a sensual kiss.

you grinned against her lips, before pulling back and asking, just to clarify: “you mean that you get all needy~?”

“you know just what i mean.” yang replied, before glancing over at your desk, then back at you, with a big grin. “now, how about we use that desk for something more fun than studying~?”

“oh, whatever could that mean?” you tease. “maybe you should show me…”

B= Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Being Yang’s best friend means buckling up—because life with her feels like riding Bumblebee with no helmet. She’s loud, fearless, and endlessly loyal, the kind of friend who drags you into adventures before you’ve even agreed to go. From the start, she’d spot you across a room, notice something about your vibe maybe the way you carry yourself or make a witty comeback and decide you’re her kind of person. Your friendship would spark fast, built on laughter, teasing, and maybe a few near-death experiences if she ropes you into one of her stunts. Yang isn’t someone who eases into friendships; she crashes into them like she crashes into a fight with confidence, warmth, and absolutely no hesitation. She’s protective to the core, too; anyone who messes with you finds themselves facing her glowing red eyes and a fist ready to make a point.

Over time, you’d come to see the depth behind her energy. Yang’s the kind of friend who picks you up literally and emotionally when you’re down, even if it means ignoring her own pain for a while. Late-night talks on her porch, her laugh loud enough to shake the stars, and long rides with her hair whipping in the wind become your normal. She pushes you to be braver, to face the world with a smirk and a spark of defiance. And when life gets hard, she doesn’t give advice in words; she just stands beside you, shoulder to shoulder, making sure you never face anything alone. With Yang, friendship isn’t quiet it’s fiery, messy, loyal, and full of life.

C= Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Yang absolutely loves cuddling though she’d never admit it at first. She’d joke about it, tease you for needing “Yang snuggles,” and act like it’s no big deal… but once you’re actually curled up with her, she melts. She runs warm like a human space heater so her hugs are always enveloping and full-bodied, her arm (metal or not) wrapped tight around you. The best part is that she can’t sit still for long; half the time, she’ll pull you in with a laugh or tackle you onto the couch just so she can be the one holding you. You can feel the strength behind every touch, but it’s never too much Yang knows exactly how to make you feel safe, held, and completely secure.

When the mood softens, though, Yang’s cuddlier side gets quiet. You’ll catch her sigh as she tucks her face into your neck or drapes her hair over both of you like a golden curtain. If you trace patterns on her back or play with her hair, she practically purrs, too content to move. Pillow talk with Yang is warm and unguarded she tells stories, laughs into your shoulder, and sometimes falls asleep mid-sentence with a faint smile. To her, cuddling isn’t just comfort; it’s trust. It’s her way of saying, I’m safe here. You’re my home.

D= Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Yang might joke that she’s not the “settling down” type, but deep down, she absolutely wants that kind of peace just in her own way. After years of chaos and heartbreak, she imagines a life where she can still ride her bike, tease you about your morning hair, and come home to someone she can protect instead of fight beside. With you, she finds the idea of domestic life oddly comforting. It’s not about slowing down it’s about stability, warmth, and the chance to laugh without worrying about what comes next. You’d catch her staring at you sometimes, that fiery glint in her eyes softening into something quieter, like she’s realizing this, you, this home is what she’s been fighting for all along.

Yang’s domestic skills are… functional at best. Cooking? She tries, but she’s more of a “throw it in the pan and hope for the best” kind of chef. Think hearty breakfasts and too much spice edible, sometimes even good, but definitely chaotic. Cleaning, on the other hand, happens in bursts of energy. You’ll come home to her blasting music, hair tied up, half the apartment spotless while the other half looks like a tornado passed through. Still, she makes chores fun, playfully bumping you with her hip as she works and teasing you for not keeping up. Life with Yang isn’t perfect, but it’s full of noise, warmth, and love the kind that makes even mundane moments sparkle.

E= Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Yang would try to be brave about it, even though deep down, she’d hate every second of it. You’d probably see that usual confident spark in her eyes dim just a little as she tried to joke her way through the tension, saying something light like, “Guess the fire fizzled out, huh?” But her voice would falter, betraying the pain she didn’t want you to see. She’d want things to end clean, no anger, no screaming, just honesty. Maybe you’d be sitting on the hood of Bumblebee while she leaned against it, arms crossed, staring into the distance because looking at you too long would make her lose her nerve. Yang would admit she still cares, that breaking up isn’t about losing love, but about needing space to keep moving forward. And no matter how strong she pretends to be, the moment you finally walk away, she’d stay still for a long time, gripping her sleeve like she’s holding onto what’s left of you.

F= Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

For someone as wild-hearted and free as Yang, commitment might surprise you with how deeply she takes it. She’s the kind of woman who doesn’t say “I love you” unless she means it completely, fiercely, without hesitation. When she promises forever, it’s not lip service; it’s a shield she raises around you. Because of the scars she carries, physical and emotional, Yang doesn’t fall easily, but once she does, she holds on tight. You’d see it in how she looks at you when she thinks you’re not paying attention, or in how she reaches out for your hand whenever the world feels too heavy. The idea of settling down would scare her at first — not because she doubts the love, but because losing it would gut her. So she’d take her time learning to trust that what you have is solid, real, something that won’t just disappear one day.

When it comes to actually tying the knot, Yang wouldn’t rush into it. She wants to live the bond before making it official to face real storms, to laugh until you can’t breathe, to make mistakes and fix them together. Once she’s sure you’re her person, though, there’s no hesitation left. She wouldn’t need a huge event or a perfect ring; just an honest promise and maybe a motorcycle ride to wherever you’ll start that next part of your life together. If anything, she’d prefer the proposal to be mutual something spontaneous and fiery, like the two of you are. Once the decision’s made, she’d burn for it wholeheartedly.

G= Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionaly?)

Yang’s gentleness is the kind that surprises you — not because she seems incapable of it, but because she feels it so deeply beneath all that fire and swagger. Physically, she’s careful in ways she doesn’t talk about; her touch lingers but never presses, her hugs are tight but safe, and even when her mechanical arm wraps around you, she adjusts her strength to make sure she never hurts you. It’s her way of saying you matter more than my pride. Emotionally, her gentleness runs even deeper. Yang listens when you’re quiet, cracks warmth into heavy days with bad puns, and hides how much she worries so you don’t have to. She’s protective, but never possessive loving you like she’s guarding something breakable, because after everything she’s lost, she’s learned how fragile people’s hearts really are.

H= Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Yang absolutely loves hugs they’re practically one of her love languages. She’s the kind of person who doesn’t even need a reason; if you’re nearby, she’ll pull you into her arms just because it feels right. After a fight, after a joke, after breakfast doesn’t matter. Hugs are her way of wordlessly saying you’re safe, you’re mine, I’ve got you. And she gives them often, even more when she knows you’ve had a rough day or when she’s secretly feeling vulnerable and doesn’t want to admit it. Around others, she might play it off with a laugh or a wink, but when it’s just you, the way she wraps around you says everything she tries too hard not to say out loud.

Her hugs are strong enough to make you lose your breath, but never enough to hurt there’s always control behind that strength. When she squeezes you, you can feel the warmth radiating off her, the faint hum of her prosthetic arm careful against your back, and her chin resting heavy on your shoulder like she could stay that way forever. Sometimes she cracks a joke, calling you her “squeeze toy,” but sometimes she just holds on and breathes quietly into your neck. Yang’s hugs aren’t just physical; they’re grounding. They remind you that, no matter how chaotic the world gets, warmth and safety exist right there in the arms of someone who’s learned how to hold on without fear of losing again.

|= I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Yang doesn’t say I love you fast not because she’s afraid to feel it, but because love, to her, means permanence, and permanence still scares her a little. She’ll joke and flirt easily, toss out sweet nicknames and teasing remarks, but when it comes to those three words, she holds them close until she’s absolutely sure. You’d feel it long before she ever says it in how she defends you, how her gaze softens when you walk into the room, how she always makes sure you’re laughing again after a bad day. The first time it slips out, it’s probably unplanned whispered in the heat of the moment, or mumbled when she thinks you’re asleep. Once she realizes she’s said it, though, she doesn’t backtrack. Yang owns it fully, grinning with that wide, fiery smile of hers and repeating it like it’s the easiest thing in the world because now that it’s real, she’ll make sure you never doubt it again.

J= Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

Yang doesn’t get jealous easily she’s confident enough to know her worth, and she genuinely wants you to have freedom and connections outside of her. But when jealousy does hit, it hits hard. It’s not that she doesn’t trust you it’s that little, quiet fear in her chest whispering that she could lose you like she’s lost others before. You’d notice it in the way her jokes suddenly get sharper, or how she’s a little more physically protective than usual, pulling you closer with that casual smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Deep down, it’s not anger she feels it’s insecurity mixed with a stubborn refusal to admit she’s scared.

When she’s jealous, she won’t start a fight or make a scene, but she’ll absolutely try to remind the world who you belong with wrapping an arm around your waist, kissing the top of your head, or teasing whoever’s making her uneasy with playful but pointed banter. Later, when you’re alone, she’ll go quiet for a bit before blurting out something like, “I know I’m being dumb, but I just… didn’t like seeing them that close to you.” Once you reassure her, she melts instantly, laughing it off and pulling you into one of those bruising hugs that say more than words ever could. After that, the jealousy fades replaced with warmth, and maybe just a hint of smug pride knowing you’re still hers.

K= Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Yang’s kisses are bold, warm, and absolutely alive the kind that make your pulse race before you realize you’ve even leaned in. She kisses like she fights: with confidence, energy, and that hint of recklessness that makes it impossible not to melt into her. Her lips are always soft but eager, tasting faintly of something sweet, like the wild energy that follows her everywhere. Whether it’s a playful peck stolen mid-conversation or a deep, grounding kiss after a close call, she puts her whole heart into it every single time. You can feel her smile against your lips when she knows she’s flustering you, because teasing you while loving you is one of her favorite hobbies.

When she’s the one giving the affection, Yang loves kissing your forehead and temples first those quiet, steady places that let her show her softer side. But when she wants to make sure you know exactly how much she wants you, it shifts to jawline kisses, neck grazes, and slow, deliberate brushes at the corner of your mouth before the real thing. As for where she loves being kissed? That’s easy, her cheek, right near her scar. It’s where she’s most self-conscious, most human, and when you press your lips there, she pretends to make a joke about it but her eyes soften every time. It reminds her she’s loved for more than her spark and strength it’s for all of her.

L= Little ones (How are they around children?)

When Yang’s around kids especially ones that remind her of Ruby when she was younger you see a softer, almost goofy side that few others get to witness. She’s the type to crouch down to their level, ruffle their hair, and let them try on her shades, pretending they’re “cool Huntresses-in-training.” She’s fiercely protective but playful, turning every moment into an adventure or a game, though her version of “playtime” often involves races, piggyback rides, or mock sparring sessions that always end in laughter. You can tell she genuinely enjoys the energy and curiosity kids bring maybe because it reminds her of the bond she has with Ruby. Around little ones, Yang's warmth shines the brightest; her teasing turns gentle, her jokes soften, and even her legendary hotheadedness mellows into a steady, comforting flame that makes everyone feel safe and seen.

M= Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Yang are wild, warm, and a little chaotic in the best way. You usually wake to the sound of her stretching with an exaggerated groan, her hair a golden explosion that somehow makes her look even more effortlessly beautiful. She’s always the first to toss out some cheesy pun or half-conscious joke just to get you to laugh before you’re even fully awake. The smell of coffee hits next strong enough to wake the dead, because she swears caffeine is the real MVP of mornings. If she catches you still in bed, she’ll either flop down beside you, tangling you up in her arms until you give up, or she’ll scoop you right out of the blankets with a grin and a teasing “Rise and shine, sunshine!” She’s the type to hum off-key while cooking breakfast, wearing your favorite shirt like it’s hers, and the whole routine somehow feels like firelight bright, warm, and impossible not to love.

N= Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Yang are the perfect mix of warmth, comfort, and playful mischief. You usually find her sprawled on the couch, hair loose and wild, one arm draped lazily over you while some movie or old combat match hums quietly in the background. She always insists she’s not tired, even though her eyelids droop and her metal fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin, the faint whirr of her prosthetic blending with her soft laughs. Once she finally drags herself to bed, she’s a total cuddle magnet wrapping around you like a personal heater and refusing to let go, calling herself your “human furnace.” If you can’t sleep, she’ll stay up too, whispering stories about Beacon days or silly puns that make you groan until you’re laughing quietly in the dark. With her, nights aren’t silent they’re safe. The world fades out, replaced by the steady rhythm of her breathing, the steady thump of her heart, and the feeling that no nightmare could ever reach you while she’s there.

O= Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Yang doesn’t open up easily not because she doesn’t trust you, but because she’s used to being the strong one, the one who cracks jokes to hide the cracks. In the beginning, she keeps things lighthearted and surface-level, filling the silence with her usual banter. You’ll get the fun stories first—the ones that make her laugh or show off her wild side, but the deeper things, the real pieces of her, come out slowly and unexpectedly. It might slip when her guard’s down after a long day, or when you ask something simple that brushes against an old scar. Her voice softens, the energy fades, and for a moment she’s not the unstoppable Yang Xiao Long she’s just a girl who’s lost more than she lets on, trying not to show how much it still hurts.

Once she starts trusting you fully, the walls come down piece by piece. She won’t dump everything on you all at once Yang’s too thoughtful for that—but over time you’ll notice she’s giving you little glimpses: a story about her mom, a mention of how she really felt when she lost her arm, the way she still worries she’s not enough. Each reveal feels intentional, like she’s letting you into a part of her no one else gets. And when she finally does tell you everything when she’s sitting close enough that her hand brushes yours and her voice barely rises above a whisper it feels less like confession and more like connection. Because for Yang, being open isn’t about weakness; it’s about trust deep enough to finally stop pretending she’s unbreakable.

P= Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Yang has come a long way from the girl who used to throw punches the second her temper flared, but that fire still burns bright beneath the surface. You see it in the twitch of her jaw, the way her lilac eyes start to smolder when someone crosses a line especially if it’s about her hair, her family, or you. She’s patient most of the time now, channeling her energy into witty comebacks or deep breaths instead of fists. Still, when she’s pushed too far, the shift is unmistakable her tone drops, her gaze sharpens, and that storm she fights to keep contained starts to crackle just beneath the surface. You’re one of the few who can reach her when that happens, grounding her before her emotions spiral. Yang doesn’t explode like she used to, but her anger’s still fierce less wildfire, more controlled blaze, dangerous only when someone’s dumb enough to feed it.

Q= Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

What surprises you most, though, is how she uses those memories. Yang doesn’t keep them tucked away just for nostalgia she weaves them into how she loves you. Every gift, every joke, every bit of physical affection carries some callback to something you once shared or said. And when you tease her about remembering so much, she just grins that cocky grin and says, “Guess I’ve got a good reason to keep you on my mind.” Under the humor, though, you can tell it’s her way of holding on, because for someone who’s lost people before, every memory of you is proof that this time, she doesn’t have to.

Yang’s memory for you is sharper than she lets on. She might act breezy and distracted, but she remembers the things that matter the weird way you take your coffee, the offhand comment you made about loving thunderstorm nights, even the song you hummed once when you thought she wasn’t listening. She notices the little patterns, connects them quietly, and brings them up at just the right moments like showing up with your favorite snack after a rough day, or cracking a pun about something you mentioned weeks ago. Her memory isn’t flawless she’ll space out on random details, like movie names or the date you first met but the emotional stuff, the pieces that define who you are, she never forgets.

R= Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Yang’s favorite moment with you isn’t one of the wild, high-energy ones she’s known for it’s quiet, almost painfully so. It’s that night after a mission, when you sat with her on the porch, her head resting against your shoulder, the two of you wrapped in the sound of crickets and the faint hum of Bumblebee cooling down. You didn’t talk much, and she didn’t make a joke for once; instead, she just breathed in the calm and realized she finally felt safe again. For someone who’s always fought to stay strong, that peace meant everything. The world could disappear around her, but in that stillness with your hand in hers and your warmth pressed close, she remembered what being whole really felt like. That’s the memory she replays when she can’t sleep, the one that reminds her she’s not fighting alone anymore.

S= Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Yang’s protectiveness runs deeper than instinct—it’s part of her heartbeat. When it comes to you, she’s alert in an almost feral way, eyes tracking every potential threat before you even notice it. She’ll wrap herself around you in fights, take the hit before it ever reaches your side, and laugh it off afterward just to keep you from worrying. Her protective streak isn’t only physical, either she defends you in conversation, shields you from gossip, and never lets anyone belittle you in her presence. The moment someone hurts you, even emotionally, her fire flares in a way that’s hard to calm. And yet, it isn’t just about keeping you safe it’s about making you feel safe. She wants you to know that if the world turns against you, she’s always in your corner, knuckles cracked and ready.

For Yang, being protected is trickier. She’s used to being the shield, not the one behind it. She might scoff when you try to look out for her, claiming she’s fine even when she’s visibly exhausted or burnt out. But deep down, your care hits her right where she hides it in the quiet, lonely part of her that still remembers what it felt like to be left behind. She melts when you check on her after a nightmare, touch her prosthetic arm gently instead of trying to ignore it, or hold her when words fail her temper. Protecting her isn’t about guarding her body it’s about steadying her spirit, showing her that her strength doesn’t have to carry everything alone. And when she realizes that, she lets her fire rest next to yours.

T= Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Yang puts a surprising amount of effort into the things and people she cares about, but not always in the way you’d expect. Dates and anniversaries with her aren’t perfectly planned candlelight dinners; they’re adrenaline-fueled rides on Bumblebee to a sunset lookout or homemade burgers shared while teasing you for being “mushy.” She remembers the details that matter, your favorite snacks, the song that makes you smile, the kind of jokes that can snap you out of a bad mood, and she builds moments around them. Her gifts aren’t extravagant, but they’re deeply personal: a bracelet made from a broken piece of her old gauntlet, a patch she stitched herself. When it comes to everyday tasks, though, she’s a little chaotic laundry piles up, cooking experiments go wrong, and she’ll laugh it off every time. Still, underneath the mess and spontaneity, every bit of effort comes from love and you always feel it.

U= Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Yang’s bad habits come from the same fire that makes her shine. She’s impulsive you’ve seen her charge headfirst into fights or arguments just because her pride flared before her logic kicked in. When she’s irritated, she masks it with sarcasm, tossing out jokes to keep from cracking open what’s really bothering her. She deflects blame when she’s hurting, preferring to punch a wall or rev Bumblebee’s engine at midnight rather than admit she’s scared or wrong. Sometimes, she bottles things up for so long that when she finally snaps, it’s explosive words, fists, or tears, take your pick. And though she’s fiercely independent, that same stubbornness keeps her from asking for help, even from you, until the moment she’s already burned herself out.

V= Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Yang definitely cares about how she looks probably more than she’d ever admit outright, but it’s not out of vanity so much as identity. Her hair, especially, is her pride and signature; it’s not just part of her beauty, it’s a declaration of who she is. You’ve seen how she lights up when you compliment her style or how she checks herself in reflective surfaces not in a self-absorbed way, but like she’s making sure the person staring back still looks unbreakable. She knows her confidence is tied to her appearance, and after losing her arm, it took her time to see herself as whole again. So when she bothers with makeup, outfits, or her hair’s perfect bounce, it isn’t shallow it’s her way of proving to herself, and maybe to you, that she’s still strong, radiant, and completely Yang.

W= Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yang would never admit it out loud, but yeah—without you, she’d feel incomplete. You’ve become part of the balance she fought so hard to regain after everything she lost. You help ground her when her temper sparks, give her space when her pride flares, and remind her that strength isn’t always about throwing punches sometimes it’s about letting someone in. Around you, her teasing grin softens, and that unbreakable confidence she wears like armor turns into something warmer, more human. You’re her calm after the fight, her anchor when her past tries to drag her under. If you were gone, Yang would still keep moving, still crack a joke and rev Bumblebee’s engine, but those lilac eyes would never shine quite the same way again.

X= Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

When Yang can’t sleep, she sneaks out to her garage, sits on Bumblebee with a mug of hot chocolate, and listens to old rock ballads while tinkering half to clear her head, half to feel close to her mom in some small, wordless way.

Y= Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

Yang isn’t picky about most things, but certain traits and habits rub her the wrong way fast. She can’t stand dishonesty or people who hide behind half-truths it hits too close to the pain of being abandoned and lied to before. She also doesn’t vibe well with overly negative or apathetic types; life’s thrown her enough darkness that she craves people who can meet her fire with warmth or humor, not constant gloom. Controlling or possessive behavior is a huge red flag for her, too she values freedom and trust above all else, and anyone who tries to box her in or question her loyalty won’t last long. In general, she dislikes cruelty, arrogance, and people who take themselves too seriously. Bad puns? Fine. Bad attitudes? Not a chance.

Z= Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

You expected many things upon arriving home.

Kyoko, walking out and into the hall while stretching her arms above her head and wearing a sleeveless shirt that was more than a few sizes too large on her, giving you a generous view of her sideboob while not revealing too much. Not to mention, the way she was stretching made the shirt ride up far enough for you to be able to see what she was wearing underneath.

Or lack thereof.

Kyoko finished her stretch and turned to you with a smirk as she saw your reaction to what was written on her shirt.

“I Want My Boyfriend To Pin Me Down”

“I… am going to need a lot of water, aren’t I?” you asked, your mouth dry.

“Yes you are. Luckily, I bought a new case of it today. Now, are you going to keep asking stupid questions or are you going to get to the main event?” Kyoko asked you with a taunting grin.

After that, you had no other option but to give her exactly what she wanted.

You were not prepared when Elphelt came into the bedroom wearing a pair of very short pajama shorts and a shirt that seemed to be strategically a few sizes too small around the waist and chest, tightly hugging her every curve and contour and just barely obscuring her toned abs from your view.

And if that sight alone didn’t pop your eyes out, the words written on the shirt would.

“I Want My Boyfriend To Pin Me Down BREED ME!”

The last part had seemingly been added on by Elphelt herself if the lettering being her frenzied handwriting was anything to go by.

Her eyes were glossed over, her breath was ragged, she was blushing heavily, and she was strutting over to you with an obvious sway in her hips.

Before you, there were two options.

The first one was to give Elphelt exactly what she wanted.

Pinning her to the bed, and going down on her until she ran out of steam.

The second option was to run.

The second option was extremely hazardous to your health seeing as, one Elphelt could fly, two she had more stamina than the average human, and three, you have seen her crush melons between her thighs.

Either way, your pelvis was in for a beating.

The first option, however, was the only one that didn’t have a guarantee of breaking your pelvis, only a very high chance.

And so, you decided to see what was behind Door Number One.

Very few things in the world could’ve prepared you for what you were seeing right now.

Yang Xiao Long, wearing a VERY short tank top that just barely hid her breasts from view while also proudly showing off every inch of her powerful muscles and with the natural framing her hair gave her and the loose shorts she was wearing… she looked ethereal in the most sinful of ways.

The writing on the tank top that said “I Want My Boyfriend To Try And Pin Me Down” only added to that.

You gawked at her for several minutes, your mind completely failing at the sight before you.

Yang, did little to hide the ego boost that your staring gave her.

“See something you like?” Yang teased with a smile as she put her hand on her hip.

In response, you answered her with a very intelligent “Uh huh.”

Yang’s smirk grew at this.

Yang knows he is powerful, compare to those fools who only knew how to wield a gun without the qualities of what makes a good fight. Anyone can use a gun but who can truly use a Shuang Gou the way he can, not many. Despite the worrying looks and silence you’ve been offering, Yang couldn't help but to offer a sigh in return. "Stop giving me those eyes, you're goin' make me want to have my ways with you." He can see the way your cheeks glow from just simple comments, a reaction that he is quite fond of no doubt.

Whilst there are other times where Yang choose to smoke a combination which gives him a high much like this one, it's not often that he takes a long draft of those intoxicating smoke, let alone in front of you. The combination from his homeland is quite expensive after all, especially if it is high quality. Why would Yang risk ruining his own body with the drugs he provides when he can have something risk free for double the price?

With a leg over the other and an arm tugged neatly underneath, your curious gaze falls onto Yang who has a pipe sitting between his fingers elegantly but it doesn't go unnoticed. "Curious?" He asked in his usual sing song tone, eyes thinning as they observes your reaction. "It smells... different to the usual tobacco you have..." That much you know but there's something different about this, something stronger and heavier. "That's because it is different!" Lan chimes in with a knowing chuckle, "A special kind that gives you a high without... y'know the crazy side effects like Red Camellia." Fei added with a slight shrug, "They're very expensive too, I'm surprised Yang even took it out of the box." The small girl added with her brows frowning slightly, that along was enough for you wanting to question Yang further.

“Enough, leave us.” Disappointment was clear as day as the twins turned in their heels, letting out a union sigh as they grumbled whilst making their way outside. You promised you’d visit the market with Lan and Fei today after all, that’s why you are here, to ask Yang for permission. “I—“

As soon as those golden eyes met yours, a shiver instinctively creeped its way towards your core. Cheeks flushed, it was too late to look away. “Come, don’t make me repeat myself.” Yang’s voice sounded as alluring as the first time you met him, on that very roof top. You know better by now than to push his buttons unprovoked, every steps towards him felt heavier than the last until you were finally close enough to feel his warmth and for him to pull you into his lap without warning as per usual.

“Open” It was only natural for you to look as confused as you feel, leaning subtly against his touch whilst you wonder what Yang meant and so far there’s only one thing you can think of. As your open lips parted slowly, the smile that slowly spread across his lips whilst he leans back into the chair was enough to make your heart pound, “Good girl.” The way Yang’s voice rumbled through his chest was unforgettable. Suddenly, you begin to doubt if this was another one of his tricks or test your loyalty to him as your jaw begins to ache. “Yang I—“

Before you knew it, those familiar soft lips had locked themselves onto yours. The bitter taste of whatever herbs within his pipe lingered as he toyed with you, tip of Yang’s tongue brushed ever so forcefully and then soften against your tongue. Forcing you to inhale the smoke he had taken purposefully just before kissing you, Yang could never get enough of the way you struggle helplessly against his hold as your mouth moulding into his own.

A string of silver attached between the two of you when the crimson haired finally drew back, coughs from that body of yours echoed across the room. It was only natural, it takes time to get used to intoxicating things like this. “What you think?” There’s a hint of mockery in his tone, matching the smirk that lingers across those delicate features. Of course Yang wasn’t expecting you to take enjoyment in this, he expected you to kick and shove him away whilst calling him every name under the sun, explaining how you were only here for something else. Yet none of it happened, that’s when Yang heart squeezed slightly.

Did he go too far?

“Oi you—“ That’s when he spotted your expression, blissful but dizzy. Perhaps this was way too strong for someone as inexperienced as you, the way you wiggles between his lap and clawing at Yang’s chest was enough for him to indulge in this. The panic melts into amusement as those golden eyes observes your actions, “What is it? I can’t hear you.”

“I want more.”

DANTE FALZONE

he resigns himself to immutable culpability, unable to be eroded by the shifting sands of time. his thoughts are consumed by all his missteps, how he should've proceeded when reconciling his feelings for you. dante assumes full responsibility for his inaction, though he's unwilling to explore the nuance of your feelings for someone else— was it truly a matter of words unsaid or was he never a contender altogether? this must be fate, and he believes in its permanence. just as you can never love him, he will never love again. he did this to himself, and so, he must accept the consequences. dante walks a tightrope of detachment... or so he would like to believe. in actuality, the only rope between the two of you is the one you've unknowingly fashioned into a marionette string. he's a helpless puppet, still manipulated by you. while dante denies his interest in you, he's still swayed by each and every of your decisions, miraculously and devotedly showing up whenever you need him. dedicated to you even as you pledge yourself to another. it's sinful for a man of god to idolize another, yet dante worships you as he always has, words of dissent empty.

the scant hours of sleep that he's allotted are spent committing you to memory. he's fearful of your commitment to another, how it could cause a rift between you and him, and that you will be fated to the hollow existence of a memory. dante tosses beneath sheets, each woven fabric burdening his mind, the stitching scratching at him as if the ask the grating question: were his tracks covered?

it was dante's personal mission to ensure that there was no confusion about his feelings towards you, that he had never once thought of the union of the two of you. he would politely soak up whatever information you cared to share about the object of your affection, only to wring it out with despair in private, oscillating between a never ending cycle of why isn't that me? and it's my fault it ended up this way. the only place things are as they once were are in his dreams, but his reality was far too soul crushing to inspire any fantasies.

GILBERT REDFORD

there's no honor in suffering in silence. he resists allowing this development to spiral the three of you into melodrama, refusing to sensationalize his descent into despondency. instead, gil embodies a chivalrous mindsent, asserting that this is certainly a matter of the best man winning. he's not a man to adopt a fatalistic approach to the relationship between the two of you. rather, gil demonstrates his attributes fairly, broadcasts his affections valiantly. never once does he make it about the person you're interested, as all gil's efforts are reserved to build the two of you up rather than tear down whomever has captured your heart. there is somewhat of a high to indulge in during this battle, though gil would resent to have it reduced to some game. he takes the two of you seriously, and if in the end he cannot measure to your standards, gil loses with grace. that's not to say it wouldn't tear him up, but your happiness takes precedent. what kind of man would he be otherwise?

"i'll tell you every chance you give me," gil purred. his lithe fingers encircled your wrist as you turned from him, and he exacted the perfect amount of grace in twirling you back into his chest. your eyesight became an onslaught of pinstripes, mind eased by that warm carmalized scent. "there's nothing i want more than you." slowly, gil's hands found their way to your waist, and when they found no resistence, they continued to traverse. "how shall i prove it today?" it was then that his fingers kneaded the back of your thighs, sinking in and hoisting you into his arms. with your legs secure around his midsection, a cheeky grin blossomed across gil's face. "like i said, i'll tell you how much i want for you at every turn... but what does it really mean if i don't back it up with actions?"

NICOLA FRANCESCA

his yearning for you is suspended in the frozen lake in the cavernous final depth of hell. never would nicola francesca betray such a sentiment before your very eyes. of course, he's liable to tease you when you begin to stray too far outside his reach. nicola has watched you fawn over another for quite some time, and as the days become weeks and the weeks become months, he percolates over the thought of pulling the rug out from beneath the object of your affection. the musing drips through the cracks of his better judgement like some form of torture, and he ultimately capitulates to the need to actualize his attachment to you in the form of sinking his fangs into the one that caught your eye. whatever deeper feelings nicola allows to remain unsaid between the two of you, he allows himself to take out on others, all the while causing whiplash to you. it's an intense game of hot and cold until he intimidates your darling into abandoning whatever was coming to fruition between you. with the satisfaction of your liberation set before him, nicola finally raises his glass to toast his feast: you.

"where's that little bird that used to hang around you?" his voice remained even, unassuming as the two of you fell into simultaneous step. with practiced fluidity, nicola eased the bag you were carrying to his own arms, playing up the angle of nobility he was perceived to harbor. "that's a shame." nicola whistled upon hearing that things were left unresolved between you and them. just for a moment, he allowed his veneer to evanesce and the ghost of malice manifested on his face in the shape of a smile. nicola had made short work of your darling, subtly bullying them into giving you the cold shoulder. never would he so flagrantly threaten the life of an innocent party, but he would not take responsibility for their fears coming to such a conclusion. "what do you say to a cafe au lait to make up for it? it'll be my treat." nicola sank into the shared routine you two shared. he had felt a progressive sense of urgency to rid the obstacle between the two of you, though now that it was eliminated, why not resume that teasing speed until his resolve was finally broken?

ORLOK

he's hyperaware of you, yet lacks the literacy to read your feelings on that person you're always eyeing. orlok just knows it's different. he knows that he's not reflected in your eyes in such a tender manner. what begins with a hunch actualizes before his very eyes. much like dante, orlok is met with the proclamation of your love; however, it's not for him. he's not equipped to process this unrelenting sensation of loss, as he had failed to discern the bleeding gradations of his feelings for you. it stunts his ability to articulate his confusion, and orlok's days are tainted by apprehension. never once does his presence waver, but he finds himself second guessing what it means to do all these things for you when you defer to someone else first now. you rely on him less. is this him fading into irrelevancy? in desperation, orlok seeks the guidance of gil. clarity. that's all he needs. even if it meant his worst fears were unraveling before him.

he observes your hand clasped into another's, mulling over gil's words. it was an unintentional bout of a day late and a dollar short, which he was told implies that there is a lack of time and care put into something. apparently it was no fault of his own, mostly whatever knowledge he lacked. the corner of orlok's lips twitched in latent frustration. he was beginning to feel less of your equal and far more inferior as he obsessed over gil's words. this was inadequacy. and now you knew. you also understood orlok as inadequate. he was too young, too unsocialized, too unaware. the insecurity festered within him like some disease to which he was helpless in finding a cure for. whatever experience orlok required, he only desired to acquired from your active tutelage. instead, he would have to assume the rather passive teachings of gil, gradually learning to sort out the deeper feelings he had for you. orlok was willing to see this through, from a spark to a blaze and, if it so happened, to a snuffed flame. even if it weighed heavy on the two of you, orlok couldn't withstand the unknown. when the two of you were alone, he childishly questioned you: "what do you see me as? a younger brother?" fearing that he would never be a man in your eyes.

YANG

you were just as temporary as all things in life. nothing other than a fleeting pleasure, an ephemeral euphoria. while he mostly regards you with his usual disinterest, there are seemingly random, unprompted outbursts of his chagrin for being left in the dust. yang was possessive. to him, every union was a flag of fealty swaying in the wind, and he expected you to yield to his calling, declaring loyalties when he demanded them. now there were no longer any rendezvous to speak of between the two of you, and he was beginning to resent that perhaps it wasn't you that was a temporary fixture in his life but rather himself a temporary fixture in yours. what complex feelings for someone who wanted to entertain none of it. the thought of you was beginning to metastasize like a cancer. he blames you when he's angry, he disregards you when he can rely on someone else to fill the void in the shape of desire. he knows the mere sight of him lingering around you will scare away your new toy, and so he seeks to spoil all your fun.

"watch them run with their tail between legs." tendrils of smoke unfurled behind your head, distorting the retreating back of your darling. a haze of yang's smoke clouded your vision, though it was whisked away by him emerging into your direct line of sight. "what feeble provocation..." yang drawled, jaw tightening. "you're going to have a lot of making up to do for all this running around you've been doing." yang's hand grasped at the back of your neck, roughly canting your head so you could both make uninhibited eye contact. "it's rather annoying when my possessions grow legs that run with their thoughts. you're not just anyone, you're mine." his face was fearsome, twisted cruelly, before it conjured up images of bloodlust. "don't mistake this for some petty competition... i'll thoroughly dispose of anyone that thinks it is."

SECRET ROUTE

he's much older, and often the adage is with age comes wisdom... though the latter half and often unfinished sentiment is that "sometimes age comes alone." was he a wise man... henri wasn't quite sure anymore. wise men didn't foolishly concoct banal, asinine fantasies that hinged on the flighty young things, ones with brighter futures that expanded far outside his scope of possibility. henri was a man wasted, a man with one purpose, and he usually knew better than to let himself get so distracted. he went weeks without popping back into your life, and he was beginning to question if this lunacy was layered. henri was punishing himself to getting enamored, and he was punishing himself for noticing that in the lapse between being in your life that you had found stability elsewhere. he was tormented by this— whatever this was. henri finds himself keeping tabs on your darling, and he makes his disdain known when he digs up the rather unsavory parts of their life. while he agonizes over dedicating himself to you, he disapproves of whatever you have without so much as offering any solutions. henri is passively driving a wedge between you and them, inciting fear in your mind in hopes that you will decide the choice he's implying is the right one: him.

"you have to make the choice," henri urges. his voice is that usual melancholy drone despite his words phrased as a plea. never mind that he often thought ill of his fascination with you, and never mind that that one virtuous part of him couldn't demand that you picked him. he was contradicting himself at every turn, driven to his wit's end, and yet, you were there at every bend in his meandering thoughts. "i..." henri sighed, running his hand through your hair. he wasn't sure what to say. he'd given you all the details. he just hoped you made the right choice in the end in spite of himself. "it's all about what you want." the way he phrased it was like you wanted something bad, though henri wasn't sure if he was the bad thing or your darling was, even as he campaigned against them.