#Being into woman somehow has a small downfall

[symphonyofsilence]

I am ready for the conversation about WWX crushing on JGY. Please elaborate 👉👈

I'M GLAD YOU ASKED!

Finally the day has come! Here we go!

First of all, this flirting here as JGY has a guqin string to WWX's throat! WWX My man may be discovering new kinks! The chemistry is off the charts! LWJ & LXC wished they could flirt like this!

"I think it's best if Young Master Wei stops right there. It's nothing if your flute's broken, but if your tongue or your fingers went missing, it'd be such a shame."

Wei WuXian immediately put his hand away, agreeing, "You make so much sense."

The person, "May I request your company?"

Wei WuXian nodded, "You're too polite,Sect Leader Jin."

Jin GuangYao smiled, "It's my pleasure."

Wei WuXian, "LianFang-Zun, you hid quite a big land deed in the secret chamber of Fragrant Palace, right beside my manuscripts. Don't you remember?"

Jin GuangYao, "Oh, that would be my fault. I should've put them separately."

Wei WuXian, "Right now, we won't be able to run from your grasp no matter what, so could you perhaps tell me just what a creature is being suppressed in this Guanyin Temple, LianFang-Zun, and quench my curiosity a bit?"

Jin GuangYao smiled, "Quenching your curiosity doesn't come at a low price. Young Master Wei, are you sure you'd like to try?"

Wei WuXian, "Oh. On second thought, then, nevermind."

(This whole interaction is even fruitier in the live-action)

He smiled, "Because that's what kind of a person you are. At best, you're the untamed hero; at worst, you offend people wherever you go. Unless all those whom you've offended lived their lives safely, as soon as something happened to them or someone did something to them, the first person they suspect would be you and the first person they seek revenge on would also you. And this is something you have no control over." Somehow, Wei WuXian smiled, "What should I do? For some reason, I think make a lot of sense."

Nothing like accepting and understanding your favorite homme Fatale's choice of bringing your downfall 'cause he just makes so much sense what you gonna do!😊 🤷🏻‍♀️

The way JGY is described:

Wei WuXian, on the other hand, carefully observed the chief cultivator of all sects.

Jin GuangYao was born with quite an advantageous face. His skin was fair, and he had a vermillion mark embellished on his forehead. His pupils were distinct against the whites of the eyes, appearing lively but not frivolous. His features appeared rather clean, attractive yet also ingenious. The shadow of a smile that always perched by the corners of his lips, and his brows, revealed at once his clever character. Such a face was enough to earn the love of women, but still wouldn't evoke the vigilance or aversion of men; the elderly would think of him as sweet, while the young would think of him as amicable. Even if one didn't like him, they definitely wouldn't hate him either, which was why his face was "advantageous". Although his figure was a bit small, his calm demeanor was more than enough to make up for it. Donning a cap made of black gauze, he wore the LanlingJin Sect's formal uniform, a blooming Sparks Amidst Snow crest over the front of his round-collared robe. With a nine-ringed belt at his waist, liuhe boots at his feet, and a right hand pressing down on the hilt of the sword hung by his side, he let out a powerful aura of inviolability.

Like LWJ is described in one paragraph ending with "mourning clothes" and JGY is described for a whole page with WWX going on and on about how you get some sort of feeling looking at him...EVERYONE! man and woman, young and old catch some sort of feeling basking in JGY's charm & beauty. (But he's being nonchalant about it...'cause ofc he doesn't have a crush...)

The unnecessary shade WWX throws at poor QS:

At this point, with a woman dressed in lavish robes by his arm, Jin GuangYao stepped into the room. Although the woman seemed rather dignified, a trace of innocence was blended into her expression. Even her graceful features appeared somewhat childlike. This was the official wife of Jin GuangYao, the mistress of Carp Tower-Qin Su.

descendents of prominent clans. Qin Su as the beloved daughter of Qin CangYe. Her personality was naive, but she had lived a comfortable life and was taught excellent manners.

Fortunately, although Qin Su had always seemed innocently ignorant since a young age, even to the point of being somewhat dense, she didn't trust Jin GuangYao anymore. She stared blankly at Jin GuangYao

I can't remember, and searched & couldn't find who it was that pointed out that the situation with NMJ had escalated so bad that the only way left for Jiggy was to murder him, and yet at the slightest, most desperate, most basic attempt at de-escalation that JGY shows WWX is BLOWN AWAY! Like: JGY: "Sry, Da-ge. My bad." WWX:

JGY is just trying to live another day without getting murdered by Da-ge and WWX is like Jin Guangyao is a master manipulator.

Jin GuangYao sighed, "HuaiSang is used to being spoiled, but he can't be Qinghe's idle Second Young Master for his whole life. One day he'll realize that you're doing this for him, Brother, just like how I realized that you're doing this for me."

Wei WuXian, Bravo, bravo. I wouldn't be able to say such words even if given two lifetimes, but Jin GuangYao can adjust his tone so that it doesn't sound strange at all. It even sounds a bit pleasing to the ears.

WWX taking a moment in the middle of QS's intense breakdown, crying, screaming, throwing up, pulling at her hair to remind us that Jin Guangyao is serving:

He was her husband. As of right now, under the candlelight, he looked as calm and as picturesque as ever.

Like...not now king .QS is having a moment here. Keep it in your pants for now. the last person who was horny for JGY is not yet done having her breakdown so you can walk in like that Theresa May meme and say that you'll take it from here!

What he most sees of Jin Guangyao is through Da-ge's eyes. Which are very horny eyes to look at JGY with. And it SHOWS.

The boy's figure was on the smaller side. He had fair skin and dark brows, precisely those favor-gaining features of Jin GuangYao.

When asshole Nie soldiers trash talk MY:

A flame of anger sprout within Nie MingJue's heart, burning all the way into Wei WuXian.

Wearing a gauze gap, he was almost beyond recognition. As handsome as ever, his cleverness was the same, yet his air was calmer that it had ever been.

The whole Wen Yao scene speaks for itself.

His chemistry with Xue Yang was unrivaled and JGY reminds WWX of Xue Yang:

recalling a certain someone as he watched how Jin GuangYao smiled and batted his eyes even as he fought. He whispered, "He really is the same as Xue Yang."

He admires JGY:

In these types of games, the head of all cultivators, LianFang-Zun, who was currently the most successful of all, was of course the most popular character. Although his family background was a bit disgraceful, the fact that he later climbed to such a rank was precisely why people respected him. During the Sunshot Campaign, he skillfully worked undercover for the QishanWen Sect, deceiving all of the Wen Sect's people to a point that a tremendous amount of information were disclosed, yet they knew nothing. After the Sunshot Campaign, with flattery, wit, and countless other methods, he finally became the Chief Cultivator, fully deserving of the title. Such a life could even be considered a legend. If he was playing, he'd also want to try being Jin GuangYao.

It wasn't difficult to understand why Lan XiChen defended this person. To be honest, even Wei WuXian himself didn't have a terrible opinion of the person they were suspicious of. Perhaps because of his background, he had always treated others with kindness and humility. He was the type of person who never offended anyone, the type who could make everyone around him feel comfortable talking to him, let alone ZeWu-Jun, who had been friends with him for years.

Jiang Cheng smirked, "Don't carry your sword, then. It doesn't matter. But don't provoke Jin ZiXuan from now on. He's Jin Guangshan's only son, after all. The future leader of the LanlingJin Sect will be him. If you beat him up, what should I, the sect leader, do? Beat him up with you? Or punish you?" Wei WuXian, "Isn't Jin GuangYao here now? Jin GuangYao seems so much better than him."

Jin Ling quickly tugged at the back hems of Jin GuangYao's robe. Jin GuangYao seemed as though he had been born to resolve conflicts,

Jin GuangYao could remember the name, title, age, and appearance of a person after just one encounter. Even after a few years, he'd be able to greet them without any fault, often carrying out solicitous conversations as well. If he had seen someone more than twice, he'd remember all of their likes and dislikes, therefore able to cater to their needs.

"With Jin Ling's temper, he offends other people whenever he opens his mouth, he pokes at the hornet's nest whenever he raises his hand. Your sect's JingYi calls him Young Mistress-well, he's right. The many times before this, if it weren't for how we protected him, he'd have no lives left. Jiang Cheng isn't at all someone who knows how to teach children. Jin GuangYao, on the other hand..."

(Now he's just going around attributing random capabilities such as the ability to raise a fully functional child to a man he's met only a handful of times 13 years ago as though he fully believes there's nothing he can't do.)

thinking, When Jin GuangYao saw the strange paperman and saw Suibian being unsheathed, he must've guessed who I was right there. And so he quickly made up a series of lies, causing Qin Su to take her own life, and then purposely force me to the cabinet with Suibian inside so that I could unsheath my sword and reveal my identity. Scary, scary. Who could've known that his reaction was so fast and his lies so flawless?

When Jin GuangYao lied, it really was unashamed and full of vigor! As others heard this, of course they'd think that Mo XuanYu had slandered LianFang-Zun and caused Madam Jin to take her own life since he held hatred toward him. Even Wei WuXian couldn't think of anything to say in refutation. What could he say? How he saw Nie MingJue's head? How he snuck into the secret room? The name of the person whom Qin Su saw before she died? The odd letter that could easily be argued as fictitious and fabricated? Such refutation would only make him look even more suspicious!

Under the shock and the terror, he spoke as though his words flew, fearing that Nie MingJue might start chopping before he could even finish his explanation. Despite this, his explanation still had clear logic. Every sentence was highlighting how horrible the others were, how poor he himself was.

Immediately after it were Jin ZiXuan's murals. Usually, in order to signify their absolute power, sect leaders would purposely lessen the number of murals for cultivators of their own generation or perhaps switch to an inferior artist, so that they wouldn't be outshone. To these acts, everyone gave silent approval, showing their understanding. However, Jin ZiXuan had four murals as well, unbelievably standing on equal footing as Jin GuangYao. The handsome man in the paintings displayed both pride and vigor.

Jin GuangYao didn't let her down either. Even though he held the important position of Chief Cultivator, his behavior was drastically different from his father's. He never took in any concubines, much less had a relationship with any other woman. This was indeed something that many wives of sect leaders envied.

He kins JGY:

And so, the waves of criticism began:

"Who knew this person could be so ungrateful and immoral!"

In the past few years, the words 'ungrateful' and 'immoral' were almost tied to Wei WuXian. At first, he even thought that they were criticizing him again. He only realized afterwards that even though it was the same people using the same words, the object of their criticism had already changed. He felt a bit not used to it.

Wei WuXian felt that things were rather comical, If they're rumors, why the hurry to believe them? If they're secrets, why would you come to know them?

These rumors didn't happen in just the one day. However, in the past, when Jin Guangyao was popular, they were suppressed quite well. Almost nobody took them seriously. Yet, tonight, all of the rumors seemed to have become absolute truths, forming the rocks and bricks of Jin GuangYao's supposedly-committed crimes, proving his lack of morality.

Wei WuXian immediately felt a bit speechless. The last time others praised him like this was during the Sunshot Campaign more than ten years ago. Although somebody finally inherited his position as being the enemy of the entire cultivation world, Wei WuXian didn't feel happiness at such an end, much less any warmth from finally being accepted by everyone.

He only doubted in silence, Back then, could it have been just like today? A group of people gathered up in a place, began a secret discussion, cursed everything, and finally decided to have a siege on Burial Mound?

But there was no use in saying all that. Nobody knew with more clarity than Wei WuXian that nobody would care and nobody would believe him. Anything related to Jin GuangYao would be given the most malicious conjectures and passed through the mouths of the crowd

They're narrative parallels, similar in every way, even in their relationship with twin jades and it's very sexy of them!

The crush thing aside, (I wasn't entirely serious about it. Just saying that if you wanna read it that way, the things are there. But he does admire JGY & the chemistry is certainly there) He barely even registers JGY as an antagonist in his story (he even resignedly admits that he would have sooner or later angered someone and got killed anyway even if JGY did nothing). He even confronts NHS, who brought him back to life about what he did to Meng Shi's body. We've seen how WWX treats the other antagonists of his story, the way he tortures Wen Chao & Wang Lingjiao, and other Wens to death, the way he raises dead Wens to kill their kin, the way he doesn't even remember Jin Zixun's name, or take SMS seriously. But what JGY gets is respect, both in general and in that he was a worthy player in their game (that wasn't even THEIR game), and understanding & sympathy.

[trufflemacandcheese]

The curse

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #6 #7 #8 #9 #10 #11 #12

#13

She noticed her eyes go black. First it was just a brief dizziness that she tried to ignore, now she couldn't help but realize that something was wrong. Her grip on the Bo lost strength. In the distance she heard a rumble or was that just a rushing in her ears...?

Donnie noticed at the same time how her body tension decreased. Both opened their eyes. And scared! Air bubbles rose. Their pulses shot up.

The water was red! The bandage!

Donnie reached down, and all caution was gone. He pressed his hand to her wound to somehow slow the bleeding. At the same time, he continued to hold her by the back of the neck to keep her close to him.

She will die! Here in my arms! Pure horror seized him. He saw how she couldn't focus her eyes anymore. He pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers. He wanted to give her all the remaining air, valuable air bubbles rose to the top. He was close to panicking. In the middle of the breath she pulled away, she saw through him and stuck to her plan.

“NO!” He shouted into the water and the bubbles break free.

The reddish water suddenly cleared. A pull arose and it was carried away. Fresh, clear water followed. 

Thoughts raced in the turtle's head. Everything in him was looking for a solution - he wanted to fix this, like he always fixed things. No problem was too complicated for him, no task unsolvable! But now he was reaching his limits. Panic began to take hold of him.

No! He got angry and everything in him tightened - focus! Stay calm! If she can keep calm, so can you!

He looked down and saw the blood escaping from between his fingers, being carried away by an invisible suction. Donnie quickly calculated - April and his brothers started to drain the water!

He began tearing at the fabric on her pant leg. He will apply a new pressure bandage! Rescue is near, they didn't have to hold out much longer

The young woman felt she had hardly any time left. Donnie's last breath had once again driven the blackness out of her thoughts. She pulled out the Bo, still glowing in her hand. She had to give it to him. He has to hold it now. Her strength was dwindling. 

She felt a tear in the fabric of her left leg and looked down. She could vaguely see the turtle's hand and realized what he was up to. He just doesn't give up, she thought to herself, smiling, and a warmth went through her.

She touched Donnie's face with her free hand, made him to meet his gaze to hers, then took the Bo with both hands and held it out to him, but he refused. She hugged the Bo to his chest, but instead of taking it, he raised his hands and brought them to her face, gently cupping it. An endless pleading lay in his touch, and she understood.

She also raised her hand again to his face, shook her head slightly and her last conscious thoughts formed in her mind

‘I'm so sorry. I just can't let you die… It’s okay…’

She couldn't think anymore. Darkness rose around her again. Her eyes closed.

A ton of emotions swirled inside Donnie. He never thought he could feel so many emotions at the same time. It was as if his body was too small to contain all of them.

He saw her eyes close. And fainting rose up in him, he was unwillingness to accept!

Under NO CIRCUMSTANCES will he let her die! He came up with an insane plan. He will reach around her hand, they will reproduce the shockwave one more time, and it will either be their salvation or their downfall! He was willing to live or die with her.

His hand grabbed - into emptiness! There was a strong suction and the water drained away and also pulled the two a bit to the side, so that the turtle grabbed next to it. He heard a loud rumble. The dome emptied quickly, and Donnie picked the young woman up for air first.

She breathed in weakly. The Bo slipped from her hand. The Dome's pattern of lines stopped. The light flickered.

Donnie lifted his head out of the water and took a deep breath. He held her in his arms. He had missed her breathing, and she felt fragile and lifeless.

It was too late! The realization shot into Donnie's head. Now the loss overwhelmed him. It was too late! Everything in him seemed to explode, and his barely maintained calm collapsed. 

The Bo was gone and he didn't care. He was almost mad with fear and cried out in anguish:

"NO! Stay here! STAY WITH ME!”

He didn't even know her name. He wanted to call her, but he didn't know her name! HOW CAN THAT BE?

Donnie fell to his knees with her. The water was still up to his chest. He held her up.

"No. Please stay with me…." he looked at her unconscious face. She looked like she was sleeping. So relaxed and peaceful. The pain inside him drowned out the faintly flickering flame.

The light from the dome dimmed and rocks broke loose and fell down. He did not care. 

"DONNIE?" far away, he heard Raph's voice. He didn't answer. Then, a strong tug and just as the dome gave way, the floor broke up. Instinctively he took her in his arms, held her head and slid down the newly created rescue slide with her and the rest of the water. 

Seconds later he was at the feet of his family, who were all very wet, cheering and wanting to rush towards him.

He hardly noticed them. They were far, far away. He was deaf and mute. He lost something he didn't know existed, and nothing in this world can make up for the loss he felt

The others froze at the sight of him. The euphoria suddenly changed to shock. They saw his face. The young woman in his arms. The blood. Shocked silence fell.

Leo looked at his brother and the young woman - he felt that twisted feeling inside him again that he had felt earlier on the roof when they had looked into each other's eyes. He heard her words like an echo in his head. "I'm not your enemy".

He had an intuitive feeling that it wasn't over yet and because he couldn't bear the pain of seeing his brother like this, he acted immediately.

"Oooh, come on! Who's going to die here?" he said and boldly grabbed the young woman's neck. Full of self-confidence, he noticed her pulse and nodded. Weak, but there it was.

"Donnie, get your shit together! She's still alive!" 

The purple one woke up as if from a trance and stared at Leo. His system rebooted, and then EVERYTHING in him jumped into action. He immediately tore off the piece of her pant leg and applied a new pressure bandage. As he did so, he spoke rapidly.

“She lost a lot of blood! We need to get her to a hospital immediately! Leo, quick, a portal!"

“Donnie, we can't just walk into a hospital. People will…”

“What do I care about people! A PORTAL, LEO! NOW!"

"I have an idea! Leo! To Queen's Hospital! I know someone there!" April interrupted the interaction of the two brothers.

“Ooookay, okay. Here we go!" Leo said with a dramatic sigh

“April, I'm going back to the Liar with Mikey. You go with Donnie and Leo, the fewer you are, the more low-key it is."

"Good plan, Raph! We'll meet there then."

Donnie picked the young woman up and held her tight. April and he walked through the portal, just as Leo was about to follow them, he noticed something on the ground. Donnie's Bo. He had forgotten it. The blue one picked it up and turned to his two brothers. Raph raised an eyebrow as he took it from Leo.

"I'm taking it home."

Leo nodded and frowned as he stepped through the portal as well, and it disappeared.

Mikey stood next to Raph and looked with him at the Bo in his hands.

"What happened there...?"

“I don't know, Mikey… I don't know….

-

- chapterlist

Find the full book on Wattpad and AO3

[bohdisharma]

looking in the mirror and not liking who you see, milling over piles of paperwork that never seem to get smaller, perfectly tailored suits, the sound of a bottle of red opening to be poured.

✦ DEV PATEL, CISMALE, HE/HIM ✦ BOHDI SHARMA the THIRTY-TWO year old has been in Hidehill for TWELVE YEARS and was a HOOKUP to Carter Thompson, one of the shadows. Whispers on the streets are that the LAWYER AT ATWOOD LEGAL  who lives in HIDE SQUARE are said to be WELL-MANNERED and OVER-ANALYTICAL but I guess we’ll find out for ourselves. 

TRIGGER WARNING: drug use, pornographic imagery

 ⸻  𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘

Bohdi Sharma was born in London, England into a family of academics. It made sense that he was to follow in their footsteps, become another member of the pack.

His parents were lovely, all things considered. Unlike the experience of some who bare the title as a child of an academic, he never felt pressured to follow a path he did not want to.

Not only did he seem heavily inclined to follow his own destiny for he never once questioned it, but the academic gifts he possessed were marveled at by teachers and peers. He loved to learn, constantly looking for even more information to nurture his mind.

Not only was he admired by his teachers, but he was well loved by his peers. He played soccer in high school, even going as far as to become the captain of the team his senior year.

Upon his graduation, he was off to the states with every intention to become a lawyer. First undergrad, then law school. It was here that he settled down in Hidehill, Tennesee.

When Bohdi falls in love, he falls deeply. That's what happened when he fell for Valencia Gomez. She wasn't just perfect in his eyes, but she was perfect for him.

When he met her, he was a scared law student who was so riddled with uncertainty -- that he believed he could never give her what she deserved. A life. And yet, he was so blinded by love that he fell headfirst. Even so far as to getting down on one knee.

Bohdi was a good student, especially thriving in law school. He had a beautiful fiancée, a roof above his head and something he was passionate about. However, he would soon go on to sabatoge himself, just as he had always had a tendency to do.

Part of him knew what he was getting into, knowing that the woman he loved had a career in porn. However, his own mind had prayed on his downfall. His insecurities, many that came from being engaged so young manifested into believing that he would never be enough for her, that the other men were somehow better than him. And so, he left. She became a chapter closed, and it was all his fault.

Finishing law school became harder. His body felt heavy, but he soon became conditioned when it came to turning everything off. Soon, things didn't become so heavy anymore.

He had never been the kind of person who needed much, valuing efficiency over luxury. And so, he moved into a small place in Hide Square and gradually made it all his own.

He's been at Atwood Legal since graduation, something that causes people to wonder if he's under the family's thumb. Even so, having consistency in his life continues to keep him grounded.

To his friends, Bohdi is very happy and bubbly. However, deep down there is more going on than actually meets the eye. He doesn't always reveal these emotions out of fear of burdening the people that he cares for.

⸻  𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

Doesn't really know how to do casual. Mainly wears button up shirts and suit jackets.

Bohdi has started to wonder if being a defense attorney is worth it for him anymore, especially knowing that if Carter hadn't pled guilty, it could very well have been him fighting to get him off.

Keeps a lot of journals, each with distinctly neat handwriting.

Maintaining control in his life at times is more important than it should be. Sometimes, it's too a point that he's not even aware of just how much it matters to him.

He is unaware of what happened with Valencia after he left. Like, completely. She's only recently reentered his life, as he's been more or less avoiding her as she is a manifestation of his guilt.

more to come.

⸻ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

Friends: Elena Bradshaw, Andi Powers, OPEN

Clients:

Exes ( any gender - 1/2 ): Valencia Gomez, OPEN

Hookups/FWB ( former or current ): Carter Thompson, OPEN

Love Interest: Elena Bradshaw ( neighbor/crush )

Coworkers: Adrian Parris, OPEN

These are just ideas, I'm here and ready for all the plots!

[archived-and-moving]

A while ago, I made the discovery that I have a Thing for horsegirls and it hasn't totally been relevant until now but I also recently learned that my unfortunately hot ex-friend is not just a horsegirl, but a really talented, semi-professional horsegirl. Dumb lesbian brain cannot function with this knowledge send help

Oh yeah a lot of the horse girls I know are queer, pretty, or both.

As my gal pal (or affection, she let me call her that now) would say:

Haha. Simp.

[the-tiniest-one]

Hello! I saw you asking for requests to be sent in. I was wondering if you could do headcanons for kakashi and gai (separately) with a plus size civilian s/o? Or one or the other? Thank you in advance ❤

MIGHT GUY

SO we all know Guy is ALL about 3 things. Youth. Passion. Protecting Precious People….and guess what? When you happen to cross paths with the Leaf Village’s Blue Beast, he trips over himself to let you know just how PRESH you are.

I don't see your status as a civilian as much of a road block for him. He needs someone grounded and with soft hands to hold.

Someone who will think he’s the strongest man in the world, a superhero.

He protects the ones he loves with his life and once you're in that circle there is no way out of this man’s giant heart.

You somehow enter Guy’s line of sight, maybe on a walk to class or work too early in the morning…. and from that moment you pass by and he catches sight of your pretty face, he is out for the count.

Now. Lets remember….Guy is CONFIDENT (sometimes more in spirit than in actual ability, he is the fake-it-till-you-make-it KING).

Also important to note: Guy is NOT the same as Rock Lee in his pursuit of women. He’s not about to blow every kiss at you from the jump or shamelessly confess everything out right. Don't get me wrong, he’s shameless….but Guy wants to be seen as someone cool, sexy, a real macho/mighty man... He wants to be slick Kakashi his eternal rival. He’s going to try to be velvety smooth….without success.

He would find any excuse to be in your eye line while flexing or saving a poor disguised student he employed for his contrived scheme, in this case... Neji or Lee in a dress from falling off a building LOL. (“They would be asking him to please explain again how this is training?”)------You might be a civilian. But Genjutsu of that level does NOT work on you LOL.

You are the one to finally introduce yourself to a slumped and defeated Guy after about a week of his adorable attempts at trying to bate you in with his goober acts.

“Hello, my name is (y/n). I was hoping maybe you would like to get a drink sometime?” you say with a half smile.

He would raise his head, teeth BEAMING….the power of youth always prevails!

Best. Decision. Ever. Guy charming and not to mention SHREDDED.

When he accepts your date offer, He would stand and grin, maybe saying something a little cocky like; “A handsome, war hardened devilish shinobi such as myself will always find time to satiate the voracious desires of such a heavenly woman so bursting with the essence springtime.”

He would be so so so respectful.

That being said, you're HIGH AF if you think you aren't making a B-line to walk by Kakashi on the way so Guy can tactfully walk by loudly so that his rival notices he’s with a cute girl.

He’s going to be the chivalrous type. The kind of man who makes sure your hands are around his giant bicep whenever he escorts you anywhere….which from this point on is almost anytime he is home from missions or not training.

Guy is perfect. He’s tall, JACKED, and such a sweet loving man.

He is obsessed with your shampoo. His nose is always in your hair.

Lets face it. Guy is 100% the most physical man that has ever walked the streets of Konoha. If you aren't big on touching, then his is not the man for you.

One hand will always be around your waist, holding your hand, arm around your neck, locked on your curves or anywhere else….respeeeectfully of course.

He will always be up on you and in your face so get ready for that LOL.

He will be proud of you. He will be boisterous to an exhausting level about your achievements.

He will be exhilarating in every way.

One of Guy’s greatest strengths is also one of his most unfortunate downfalls. He is wildly protective. Never underestimate his ferocity when it comes to you. You may have to communicate more than once where the line is when it comes to him watching over you. Even though you aren’t skilled in combat as he is, you also are not a child and he will take some time to learn what you require and what you don’t.

He always means well.

You have some faults and things to work on as well. Guy is tender as hell, an emotional, hot blooded, love sick fool who can and WILL take things you say to heart so be sure if you notice him freaking out or trying too hard to make you happy, to hold him and let me know often that he is perfect the way he his.

In the end all of the passions and butterflies that Guy provokes from your heart are entirely justified.

He will ask you to marry him after a date, probably at sunset, one knee, giant ring he spent way too much on.

He claims you deserve the world and you tell him that instead of the world “you would settle for just having his hands, his lips, and his heart.”

Do your best to return his love to the best of your ability because not everyone gets the chance to be loved by the Hidden Leafs Handsome Blue Beast.

KAKASHI

I’ve never seen Kakashi as someone who would end up with another shinobi bombshell.

Instead I think he would find himself interested in someone who is a total badass in another line of work.

Example; You first encounter him one day while advising Lady Tsunade on the information the Hidden Leaf Village (and a few others) pay’s your company large sums of money to collect, aggregate, and report.

Kakashi stands guard during the meeting, watching you speak with an eloquent grace and authority he finds captivating and maybe a little seductive.

By then end of the meeting he is curious about you...wondering what you thought of him, what you think about everything.... You never even look his way.

He falls in line with you as we escorts you out of the building, walking beside you in the otherwise empty stairwell.

You smirk and take the liberty of speaking first. “Did you enjoy the show Scarecrow?”

From that moment on he’s hooked.

Now I also don’t find the idea of him falling for someone with some FULL curves to be all that outlandish….He has never given .00000001% of a shit what other people think.

He also shares the famous Pervy Sage’s taste in “women he describes from research” and romantic books about women shaped like gourds so with that logic in mind….dude likes thicc, full, curvaceous women for sure. It's basically cannon at this point ;)

Kakashi is someone who has learned emotional detachment through pain. You are the first person who shows promise in tearing down those defenses.

Your relationship not necessarily a slow burn. Kashi isn’t a kid, just because he hasn’t fallen head over heals with anyone before, doesn’t mean he is a mystery to himself or oblivious to his feelings.

That being said, I do think he will protect you by keeping a relationship with you under wraps for the first year or so.

If anything EVER happened to you….he wont let that happen.

The secrecy could be hard on you at first.

Watching more than a few women flirt shamelessly with your Kashi is beyond ROUGH.

Especially considering most of them are tough as nails ninja women with perfect bodies. You aren't used to feeling threatened by other people men or women, so you have a hard time learning how to deal with it.

Kakashi is always quick to remind you that he is serious about your relationship though.

He looks at you with a ferocity only seen by people who are no longer alive. His voice is low and serious when he gets close and tells you, “(Y/N) You are my entire life. I will never leave you. I promise I am yours until the day I die.”

After a few times of him promising you that he really is in love with you, you believe him and can be secure in his word.

As his girlfriend, you take his breath away.

The way you speak, move, sleep….

Even the way you casually conduct yourself at home and in public makes him more than proud to know who you are. Let alone get to go home to you.

Guy is the first one to catch on believe it or not. He notices Kakashi peaking over the top of his book at you as you walk down the opposite side of the street. He’s known Kakashi since they were kids, he puts a reassuring hand on your boyfriends shoulder and vows without spoken words to protect you when Kakashi can’t be there….and Kakashi understands. It helps him sleep just a little better knowing he has help.

Stargazing on a rooftop one chilly autumn night, Kakashi grabs your hand and proposes to you with a small silver ring, slightly ashamed for it’s lack of a stone.

“I want you to be my wife.” is all he says and you wrap your arms around him whispering in his ear “You have had my heart since the first day I met you…. And you always will.”

His heart melts into a puddle at the sound of you telling him he will have a wife. Finally have family that loves him this much.

[animeyanderelover]

Hello again, I have a request from Yandere! Black Butler (Ciel, Sebastian, Alois, Claude, Ash and another character of his choice), as it would be if the boys fell in love with an already married reader?

[ And perhaps if you want, the reader has a son or children with her husband ]

Sad to say it, but Yandere is still Yandere. I only made the humans with children since I can imagine that the easiest.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessiveness, obsessiveness, paranoia, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, manipulation, threatening, killing, self-harm

s/o is already married

Ciel Phantomhive

☕️Ciel is rather ruthless and always lingers on the borderline to being a real criminal with what he does. He dirtied his hands already a lot of times with manipulation, killing and ruining someone in the name of her majesty. It’s nothing new for him to do this stuff. But I still feel like falling in love with a married woman would be rather inappropriate for him since his reputation is important to him. He didn’t expect to fall for someone who is clearly taken, even having a small boy as her child, abother rather setting mark. I can see him as embarrassed about this, not wanting anyone to find out and probably even trying to distance himself from you. He does have a problem with you being married, it makes him feel conflicted about this all at first.

☕️But it isn’t like this will affect him for very long, he only needs a bit time to sort his feelings out. And after that he would most likely start spying on you and your husband, wanting to know everything. He would want to know when you met, how long have you been together and if you are really happy with that man. You could say that Ciel searches for something, anything that will make him feel like his dislike for this man is justified and labeling him as scum. If he would for example find out that the engagement was forced or that this guy did something bad in the past, it would be in the end his downfall. Ciel just tells himself that in the end of the day, he would be much more suited to take care of you and your child since he can offer protection and a good education for your son.

☕️But Ciel doesn’t need to find any dirt in that man’s past, he can create something that will ruin everything all on his own, a few rumors here and certain meet-ups there are all it will take until one day the police takes your husband away from you and your son, stomach-churning rumors flying wildly around that even you will start doubting your own trust. And a single woman with a child without a man to earn money is dangerous, leading Ciel to suddenly step in and offer to help you and your son, offering you a job in his manor where you can in return move in together with your small son.

☕️Starting off as his personal assistant, Ciel will work his way into your heart by courting and wooing you properly like a noble woman. Your son is another way to your hand. Ciel is rather awkward with children, especially with small ones, but he knows that if he manages to wrap your son around your fingers, it will be easier for him to get closer to you. I feel like the human servants in this household would totally start shipping you and their master since it’s obvious to them that Ciel likes you.

☕️Being in a relationship with him afterwards would be different if the relationship is a good one and since a child is in the picture, for Ciel a lot would change. He has to somehow get used to the role of being a father which is harder than thought for him and he would often let the servants do the job of babysitting which they all love doing. Won’t let your former partner anywhere near you ever again because if he does, he’s dead. It isn’t like Ciel doesn’t plan on making you and your son forget all about him and take his role as father and husband completely.

Sebastian Michaelis

🐈‍⬛For Sebastian this all is a bit different since he’s a demon. He knows about the human way of bonding together for the rest of their life, but saw so often people having multiple partner whilst being in a marriage, making him not necessarily having the highest opinion about it. A demon’s way of bonding on the other way is eternal and once a demon chose a mate, they stay as theirs for eternity. So whilst he would definitely step back if finding out that your partner is a demon and already marked you as his, with a human that’s another story. Humans are corrupted, disloyal, tempted. He just doesn’t feel any sympathy for them and especially not if that man there is acting like you’re his. Sebastian is possessive, don’t forget that.

🐈‍⬛Whilst Sebastian will properly eliminate that guy later on, he would before that start forming a relationship with you, becoming at least a good acquaintance of yours with which you can talk openly over things you can’t say to each stranger. He needs to be your friend first so you can run crying to him the moment he starts getting to work and break this marriage apart. He has so many possibilities given his true nature and has to make that guy pay properly for acting like he owned you. It pissed Sebastian almost off whenever he heard him telling everyone proudly about his beautiful wife. That guy didn’t own you and never had. And Sebastian will teach him just how pathetic as a human he really is.

🐈‍⬛Paying that guy back and watching his helpless expression when everyone seems to leave and abandon him, including his wife is unbelievable amusing for Sebastian. How he is entertained by this face of despair is purely sadistic and he isn’t someone to deny that he enjoys pulling the strings behind the scenes just to squeeze every bit of willpower and life out of that man. And all that whilst acting as the caring and concerned friend of yours who heard all the rumors and wants to know whether you’re fine or not, pulling you like this closer to him. And as soon as he’s made sure that you don’t trust your husband anymore, he will give him a devilish death, counting on you still being sad and searching in him comfort.

🐈‍⬛He will offer you a place to stay, to calm down and refresh your own mind from everything that has happened recently. It’s just a friendly offer from a friend of yours, that’s at least what you will probably think. But for Sebastian it’s just the next step from a bigger plan to make sure that you will become his. His love, his mate.

🐈‍⬛He will slowly isolate you from everyone else, making you stay in the house he offered you to live and to take care off. Sebastian wouldn’t feel ashamed in the least bit about falling in love with an already married s/o, he has no real respect of such rather pathetic way of bonding with your mate, the love will just never be that strong like between a demon and their mate. Not only that, but Sebastian clearly sees himself above such weak and greedy creatures and just knows that he can love and treat you better like some random man who just happened to call himself your, now dead, husband. And whilst never showing it, Sebastian will manipulate you into forgetting all about your husband or other humans. You should only think about him since you’re the only person on his mind too.

Alois Trancy

👅Alois is a rather childish boy and doesn’t possess the respect required to properly show respect and appreciate such a thing like marriage, especially when it comes to his princess. He is paranoid about many things and the last thing that a possessive and unstable freak like he needs is finding out that you’re already married to a good-for-nothing piece of trash. He would just start throwing a tantrum then and there, not being able to understand why you would ever marry someone else when it’s obvious to him that you are his. Will start blaming your husband for everything, giving him all the fault for this.

👅And different from many others, Alois doesn’t show that much patience to wait and manipulate that guy. He will just go straight into completely draining that guy from his life, ordering one of his demons to murder that man for even daring to get that close to you. In his eyes it’s nothing, but disgraceful and insulting for you, someone who deserves so much more. And of course your lovely daughter as well, constantly being with you. Alois tends to like to forget the fact that this isn’t his child biologically which is a good thing. It means he won’t hate that child for being that of another man.

👅Alois will almost instantly after getting rid of the obstacle approach you and your little daughter, already thinking about a happy and small family. He’s rather obvlious to your and your daughter’s sorrow over the loss of your husband, even being confused about it. He just sees you and him as meant to be together and thought that you would be glad about hearing that this scum is bad. He won’t be able to understand that you really loved that man, instead thinking that you were perhaps manipulated or are just confused about your feelings. Same counts for your daughter.

👅He will have you two kidnapped rather quickly, seeing as more as bringing his family into their new home. He can’t stand the thought of you two out there completely alone and defenseless. What kind of father and husband would he be if he won’t go to extreme measurements to protect his family? And from that point on, you and your daughter wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore because Alois will do absolutely anything for you and your child.

👅It’s a ‘bird in a golden cage’ situation for you and your kid because Alois won’t let you leave the manor, he’s too terrified of something happening to the two of you. And he will definitely spoil the child beyond rotten just to be a good papa. And if your child is smaller and not able to grasp the full impact of this situation, she might just start viewing Alois as her real and new father, giving Alois the advantage because you for sure wouldn’t leave your little daughter behind.

Claude Faustus

🕷Similar to Sebastian he doesn’t have the best opinion about humans, they are just greedy and selfish creatures, only there to give him a nice meal from time to time. And it’s similar to their way of claiming each another, marrying. What a ridiculous thing to do, really. He saw so many people cheating on their partner, so many people not happy with their connection anymore. He never had a mate before, but in this case he sees his species as the more honorable one since demons mate for their entire life and stay faithful, at least the demons who found their mate.

🕷Claude has a rather arrogant opinion about himself, viewing himself as quite the gentleman and perfect partner to have. He’s confident in loving and pampering his mate better than anyone else can which is exactly the reason why he has to kill that guy, make him disappear to reach you. Your partner is tryuly disgusting in his eyes, undeserving of such a adorable woman like you. Insects have to be crushed and that’s exactly what Claude will do, crushing that guy’s life in the most humiliating ways possible and manipulating you into losing all faith in him, ending with everyone leaving him. And in the end Claude will finish his pathetic and lonely life with the snap of his fingers.

🕷And whilst cruelly breaking that loser apart, Claude will also start forming a bond with you, starting off as someone you happen to bump into very often, leading to some conversations in which you will start feeling more and more comfortable since he comes over as a very charming and nice young man. And from there on Claude will start manipulating you, telling you rumors about friends and your husband he happened to hear somewhere and start gossiping about everyone you’re close to about, making you feel more warily and leading to you slowly starting to isolate yourself, feeling suspicious of everyone.

🕷Claude will be always there to comfort you, no matter what it is. Be it you crying because you feel like you can’t trust anyone besides him anymore or be that abother heavy argument between you and your husband. It’s all just too much for you and Claude will soothe you with sweet lies, help you to calm down and to not get overwhelmed with all the stress. And after he eliminated really everyone, after they all lost their worth for him, you will be completely on your knees, having lost everyone, including your husband. And from there on he will start building you up again in his own way, offering you to help you with financial problems and to help you forgetting all about your deceased ex husband.

🕷Claude is poisoned honey, sweet and adoring yet also very mischievous and manipulative. He can and will use all sorts of lies and manipulations on you, keeping you in your now new home where you will live from now on. And he will work from there on to make you dependent on only him, make sure that you rely on only him. He will do anything for you, being the perfect gentleman as long as you don’t act up or try to leave him.

Ash Landers

▫️Your husband should honestly shovel himself a grave when you have this fanatic lunatic after you. This would be horror in it's purest form for Ash, who sees everyone as rotten and danger for you. Being married with such filth is even worse, knowing that he touched you already several times with those undeserving hands of his, that he took you away from your true pure way of living. I feel like marrying would hold some worth, a lot if I'm being honest, for Ash. It's a honorable ritual what is misused from the humans these days. But with your clean soul it has it's old glory again which makes Ash even more furious, knowing that you didn't get to experience the full beauty of this way of bonding because of that scum there.

▫️He obviously failed in protecting you, didn't find you soon enough to save you from the filthy ams of that man. It throws him into an angry and grieving loop, ending with him losing his calm and cool attitude and just letting it all go. He is not worthy of calling himself your angel if he can't even protect the person he has to keep safe under all means necessary, even if it costs him his own life. It will end with him hurting himself whilst hysterically crying, not thinking that he deserves to be blessed to even see you.

▫️But he can't just let that guy continue to have you either. Ash is extremely violent and messy when it comes to this topic, he has to serve and to protect after all, meaning erasing everyone who even breathes in the same direction as you. That guy will die a horrific death, the last thing he will see on this earth will be Ash's completely crazed expression. And it is guaranteed that Ash will kidnap you after that, swearing to you that he will never let it happen again that someone will come near you. He will cut out his eyes if it happens again since he wouldn't be able to look at you again if it should happen again.

▫️Ash is extremely hard to deal with, he's a fanatic and crazed person through and through and his twisted way of seeing things is fearsome, how he keeps saying that he will protect you with his life, make sure that nothing will touch you and that hew will create a London worthy for you living in. His manipulation works mainly in one wa, even though it isn't even intended from him to use it against you. It's his self-destructive nature. Ash sees the need to punish and hurt himself whenever you cry because of him or seem not satisfied. It's his job to ensure that you're always happy and healthy and by neglecting or ignoring him, you will give him the impression that he disappointed you which he won't be able to handle well. It just meant he failed as your guardian angel and that's a disgrace for him.

▫️Ash will not hurt you in any way possible, never. He would honestly stab his heart rather than ever touching you in a wrong way. I feel like his paranoia would significantly increase due to you being already once in a marriage with someone before. For Ash it just means that he already didn't fulfill his purpose in here once and he will be damned if it should happen a second time. He will be also so much more stricter one himself and even more dependent on your reaction and way of acing around him. He honestly wouldn't blame you for hating him, he screwed up as your guardian angel and you were forced to be next to someone tainted because of it. Be honestly careful with your way of being around him or else his body will be covered with marks.

Madam Red

🩺It's been a while since I wrote about this fine lady here, you know? Reason is that I wanted to have one less intense Yandere in here which is why I chose her. Because I feel like she would be a more selfless Yandere in here. I feel like Angelina would be totally devastated, especially at the beginning when finding out that her darling was already married and had together with her husband a absolutely gorgeous little daughter. Angelina sacrificed her first love already for her sister's happiness and lost her husband and her unborn child in a terrible accident. So whilst being certainly especially at the beginning disapproving of your husband, if you're happy with him and he treats you and your child well, she will be ready to sacrifice her own happiness for yours and the girl's one.

🩺I think she will just stay in the closest friendzone of yours, being for you like a caring and best friend and for your small girl like a aunt or second mother. She has a rather hard and difficult time when she sees you, your daughter and your husband happy together, it makes her feel like a fist is squeezing her heart painfully tight. It gives her another reminder that she will never have this kind of happiness. And yet at the same time she would also be glad that at least you found happiness. It's honestly a bittersweet sight for her. She's extremely overprotective over you and your child and whenever one of you is sick, she will rush over and check on you two, nursing you back to health. Also orders Grell to watch over you two and get ready to become a bit messy if someone tries to hurt you and your daughter.

🩺The only time she will step in and do something against this marriage is when she notices that you and your daughter aren't comfortable with him or your husband doesn't take proper care of you, even treating you badly. That's the situation where she will snap and won't be tolerating with this bastard. She was ready to give up on you because she thought you and your small daughter were safe withz that man. But if that isn't the case, she sees no reason why she should show mercy either. With her position and a grim reaper as a butler, she should have little to no problem to punish that guy for treating the two persons most important to her.

🩺Angelina is most likely already a close friend of yours at that time and will let you in her own house, preparing rooms for you and your daughter to stay in. She would instantly check on both of you, scared that your former partner might have left permanent damage, be that physically or mentally. And she will be there to listen to your and your hild's every story, comforting both of you and reassuring that she won't let something like this happen again, promising to take good care of you. She would feel terrible for not doing anything sooner to save you and your girl.

🩺Madam Red is rather iffy about letting you and your child leave the safe and sound mansion of hers, scared that something might happen to you two. She really can't risk losing her family all over again. She already did twice.Would totally smother and pamper the small girl, she's in total love with her just as much as she is with you. She is also rather reluctant to let you out because many people at that time just weren't that openminded when it came to two people of the same gender loving each other. It makes her feel a bit uneasy even though she won't be that vulnerable due to her noble position. But still, she just feels safest with her small family in her own four walls.

[heresyourramen]

Firebird - Choi Yeonjun x (Fem) Reader

Part of the Hamratia Collaboration by @delicatewerewolfsoul and @sleepylixie.

The artist is Choi Yeonjun, Greek god is Apollo and the deadly sin, pride.

Genre: Greek mythology/ ballet school AU, Angst, villain YN.

Word Count: 11 305

Warnings: Mentions of injury, swearing, the word boobs once, backstabbing (because that's showbizz babyyy), Villain YN, the tiktok audio "gatekeep, gaslight, girlboss" comes to mind, and the crippling pressure of never being perfect that is often found in any sport.

Description: Cupid might never be a victor when apposing Apollo in archery but he had still managed to bring the Sun God to his knees with a single of his arrows.

and he will continue to torment him for his prideful claims, for Daphne's heart will forever be pierced by Cupids led arrow.

Yeonjun, a principle dancer at the Laurier School of Ballet, had a lot going for him, he was from a well respected family within the performing arts community and had been granted a scholarship many in the school would envy him for. Sadly he did have one thing that was not going in his favour a rather tragic and unsuccessful love life, riddled with beautiful woman and men, even the lovers of his closest friends.

Until he one day finds himself Infatuated with a prize he could not attain.

A Firebird.

Honestly you could never tell if Yeonjun was actually naïve or just played dumb.

Girls and boys flocked to him and he seemed to fawn over whom ever piqued his interest most but it never lasted longer than a month, or someone cheated on someone or the relationship ended out being a fiery crash of hatred and venomous bouts in hallways with wide eyed audiences. Somehow he always acted as if he had gotten the short end of the stick, for a week forlorn before another beauty of sorts would be the centre of his attention. Sweet melodies would once again come from where ever he worked, a soft tenor promising spring and love and hope.

You steered clear.

If it wasn't an emotional roller-coaster enough being a double major, his affections would seem to be. No, you'd much rather work on your stubborn unsupple hips and relevés you always get scolded for than listen to whatever hot mess he had going on.

And god was it a loud hot mess. Your headphones blasting Dua Lipa wasn't even drowning out the heated argument between Yeonjun and his dance partner, seated in the corner of the massive practice room by the only corner without mirrors and filled with shelves for bags you keep your eyes on anything but the pair. You turn to face Jungkook who stood stretching as well but with none of the concerns of being caught as he watches curiously a humoured smirk on his lips. You had been lucky enough to be paired with the groups teaching assistant, just as well you were sure half the boys in your class couldn't even lift you. He senses your stare and looks down at where your sat opening up your hips his smirk stretching to a full blown smile, great at least someone was enjoying this spectacle. A shame really that the two strongest dancers in the class were paired up together for the showcase that would double as evaluations, it meant none of the other junior dancers would stand a chance at impressing anyone but also it was a shame that they also happened to be exes. You huff a small sigh through your nose as you get up from the floor and remove the headphones to put in your bag and to pull out the black training tutu. Jungkook had suggested it considering the challenge of the chosen dance itself that from the start you get used to how it would affect your movements, when he'd announced that the firebird pas de deux you'd nearly spilt more than half your coffee on him. It was insane, you'd thought, you were much better suited for contemporary styles and the Modern Jazz ensemble but Jungkook was patient and understanding most of the time as well as stern when necessary and since the performance would also affect his station in the school you didn't argue. Your fingers guide it over your stockings and over your leotard before fiddling where it had bent funny or folded. You turn towards the door a scowl set on your face at who ever barged in, you had booked the studio for the next three hours no one was supposed to come watch you clumsily stumble into Jungkook's arms.

A boy stood in the door way, eyes wide as it landed on you, you recognised him from around campus a friend of Yeonjuns and a classmate Seo Changbin. He wasn't all that tall but his black t-shirt was stretched taught over a broad chest and big arms, gaze sharp even hidden under his long dark fringe that swept over his forehead and eyes. His gaze matched yours and the unimpressed frown he wore disappeared for only a moment as it fell on you softening slightly as he held up a hand in a small wave to you and your partner respectfully. You dip your head in a nod as greeting before another angry curse draws his attention and yours to the bickering couple.

"Yeonjun-ah!" his voice was loud and sharp enough to make the two dancers stop.

"We will be late for class AGAIN, if you don't move your annoyingly firm ass NOW!" Yeonjun's eyes flickered to the clock above the doorway his friend had just burst through and cursed under his breath before running towards you and Jungkook to grab his bags leaving his dance partner to angrily stomp her way after him. You sweep past them in a wide arc and into the centre of the room as you test out the silky pointes arching up onto your toes and back down as you wait for Jungkook to plug in his phone to the sound system and start the music. He turns and nods at you and you take a step towards the edge of the room aware of the curious gazes on your figures. You stand ready and as soon as the whirring clarinet starts you start your leaping entrance before a twirling arabesque. One thing you cursed Jungkook for was that he managed to choose a dance that had you constantly moving. The door shut and announced they'd left leaving you to fight your way through the next three hours of strenuous technicalities.

Yeonjun would've applauded himself for his dress of choice the baggy grey sweatpants he wore over his tights and tight black t shirt he'd been training in had made it possible to switch out his own ballet shoes for some Jordan's easily enough before Changbin could pull him out of the studio by his hair. They managed to slide into the back seats of the lecture hall for music theory just on time.

"What's the dancer that was waiting with Jungkook Sunbae for you two to stop squabbling's name again?" Changbin murmured his gaze transfixed to the page of his notebook as he doodled away trying to force himself into a state of calm.

"Who?" Yeonjun frowned he hadn't cared much for the pair that waited, he was fully distracted by the small mistakes that his partner was making and would cost him his place as top student and his scholarship no doubt. Changbin looked up at him, any ounce of sympathy for his crappy partner and whatever patience he had left dissipated into the stuffy air of the dark lecture hall, how could he have so little care for the people around him daily? He'd seen you in the hallways with either a massive canvas bag or a baggy sweater over a leotard and skirt and always with a tight slicked back bun that emphasized a deadly serious gaze that often rolled back at the sight of them or rather Yeounjun and whomever he had hanging onto him that day.

"Oh you mean Y/N ?" Yeonjun eyes widened innocently, with the realization. Changbin nodded and Yeonjun shrugged his gaze lowering along with his posture as he slid down to slump his tired body into his chair.

"What about her?"

"Well... aren't they in our class? What do you think their presentation will look like? " Changbin inquired curiously as he watched his friend shrug again his eyes still trained at the slideshow the teacher was babbling over.

"Jungkook is the teaching assistant but he'd managed to pair up with a sub-par ballet dancer, poor guy. Her ankles are weak and she's too contemporary, her theatricality is commendable but mostly just makes her routines seem sloppy, why?" Yeonjun said with a small tug at the corner of his lips as he swept the dark black tresses from his eyes that never left their pacing lecturer. Because of this he missed the way Changbins irritated smirk dropped away, his lips pulling into an ugly straight line, an expression that had started showing more recently. He would agree there was room for an improvement, but there was for everyone in their class even the principle beside him. His temper was on a very short leash with his friend as he watched his arrogance grow after every break up. Yeonjun's love life was tragic, truly, and he'd feel bad for his friends pitiful attempts at relationships if he wasn't such a goddamn prick about it. Yeonjun had managed to date many a girl or boy that even his friends had some sort of interest in, always managing it in a way that made it seem he couldn't help himself and Changbin was tired of it, exhausted not even getting a chance. That small little proud smirk was still stuck on his friends face when he inquired once more.

"Are you not in the slightest bit worried that they might manage to out stage you?" Yeonjun had to muffle his loud 'Ha' with a cough as he snickered to himself his friends gaze growing darker as his frown deepened.

"Of course not but its cute that you worry for me 'Bin." Yeonjun answered with a sweet smile and a pat on the shoulder before focusing back on the class.

That would be it, Changbin thought, Yeonjuns own pride would be his downfall.

He'd make sure of it.

"Hi! Y/N, right?" the strange voice announced its presence loudly from beside the studio door, you're startled enough to drop the empty water bottle and your history book. To tired to even worry about it, you simply raise your hands over your eyes and sigh deeply, brushing the few loose strands that had managed to escape from the the gel and hairpins during the the gruelling three hour training session out of your face. One would imagine after two weeks your body would be used to it but alas. Every part of you ached, actually it was a relief not holding that 10 ton excuse of a book and you knew if you didn't open your eyes right away you'd fall asleep right there standing. You let your arms fall to your sides and raise your eyes to the culprit who stood holding your bottle and book a soft concern gracing his dark features.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mind to startle you like that." He apologizes but doesn't make a move to hand you back your belongings.

"It's okay I'm pretty jumpy by nature." You wave him off not even attempting to muster the frustration you probably should have felt.

"Have you been training for the last couple of hours?" Changbins brow furrows and his eyes trail over your figure clad in some sweatpants and your training jumper. You nod slowly and pulling your phone out of your bag to check the time you'd ran over time, since no one had booked the slot for the studio after. Jungkook stepped out of the studio dark hair swept back as he pulled on his own black hoodie.

"Oh Jungkook, just who I'm looking for." Changbin says and he rests a soft hand on your elbow as he gently guides you out of the doorway his other still holding your stuff before falling away as he stands beside you

"Changbin Madame Jeong spoke to me earlier. Are you sure about swapping places?" Jungkook gets straight to the point, his brow furrowing. Changbin couldn't blame him, being evaluated on your dance ability and your ability to choreograph a piece from scratch was completely different.

"It's not like I have much choice, Tzuyu won't be back anytime soon with a torn ACL." Changbin hears your shocked gasp, and turns his head to observe your hand over your mouth and eyes wide at the shocking news. With classes being suspended for the rest of the semester and such a large group few people had known of her injury.

"What's going to happen now?" You ask eyes wide with concern as you look between the older man and your classmate.

"Jeong had suggested Changbin take my place in your performance and I participate in my own years evaluation." Jungkook said with an apologetic expression down at you, your tired features barely even managed a proper frown.

"What?"

"It's still a month and Changbin is one of the best dancers in the group, you'll be fine." Jungkook wore a guilty expression as he scratched the back of his head as he watched your shoulders hunch over, folding in on yourself as you start to slowly loose hope.

"Hey! Don't do that, you know I'll even come help out if you need me!" he grabs you by your shoulders and force you to look at him, he doesn't break the stare down until you nod. You were furious, not only was this inconvenient but it would effect the outcome of the rest of your studies at this school. But you couldn't even muster any of the energy you needed to be upset about it after a gruelling session.

"Whatever," You shake Jungkooks hands off your shoulders and take your stuff from Changbin who'd been watching the exchange with a nervous nibble at his plump bottom lip.

"We're doing Firebird, I'm sure Jungkook will inform you of how atrocious I am." You turn on your heal and walk away because honestly, fuck that shit.

"Hey I think we got off on the wrong foot I'm Cha-" Changbin stood leaning behind the studio door waiting for you to show up. You had contemplated not showing, because who cares at this point? Not Jungkook, not Changbin and certainly  not that piece of work director Jeong.

"I know who you are, don't worry." You interrupt him as you fiddle with a hair pin that was practically indented into your skull with the way you had furiously stabbed it into the bun. Changbin to his credit musters the decency to look guilty.

"This isn't ideal for either of us but I have faith in us." Changbin says softly and you nearly bark a laugh in his face, you instead settle for a scoff. Yeah, sure he'd be fine he was a top student, technically near perfect almost better than Yeonjun only lacking the physical stature that would be needed to accommodate taller partners, where you're bottom tier at least in ballet, a charity case and no doubt a relief to be rid off, Jungkook was probably ecstatic knowing you weren't his responsibility anymore.

"Yeah, we'll see how you feel after the next three hours buddy." You pat him on his shoulder before brushing past him into the studio at 12 sharp. Changbin with a frustrated glower follow you, you weren't going to make this easy.

He steps in to the sound of Yeonjun's ex yelling at his friend and he can't help but feel a little better about this mess, he doubted you'd snap at him like that.

Your judgement was obvious, your face like an open book as you observed the pair going at each other. But it wasn't just disapproval, it was a corner of a lip tilted in a smile laced with pity. Changbin just wasn't sure if it was for Yeonjun or his partner.

He guessed it was the latter rather, by his past experience of being pinned with a scrutinious stare every time he was with his friend.  You weren't part of the plan in anyway, in fact he really was praying to what ever immortal beings existed in the realms of the heavens the two of you would perform a passable performance at least, but there was always another way to throw Yeonjun of his game.

Love.

His ex was playing a big role in her reluctance to cooperate and he didn't even have to do much about it, in fact Changbin didn't have to do anything about it but that wouldn't be enough. It wasn't Yeonjuns first challenging partner, he'd manage, highly stressed but he'd still  do his best.

"Changbin?" Your voice breaks his stare from the pair as they train through their rendition of Apollo and one of the muses dance and he notes that you're already in the black tutu over your not so traditional leotard. It wouldn't be a problem if the zip that ran down it's front was done up like most other students wore it. He swallowed hard, he didn't blame you, he'd heard that leotards were constricting, he just didn't realize it would do a better job than a push up bra.

"If you're done could we possibly get them out of here?" He doesn't miss the small smile that graces your features before turning around to face the mirrors and finish your stretching. Changbin clears his throat as he quickly changes out of his sneakers.

"Yeonjun, times up!" His voice booms over the music and shocks you enough to come up from the back bend you'd been stretching in, unwinding a supple arch until you're stood straight again, only to be met with a different sharp gaze from under black strands. Yeonjuns dark eyes are trailing over your torso as he makes his way over towards his bag, you keep your face straight as your fingers find the zip on your front, you taunt him a small drag down, his tongue sliding over his full bottom lip, before zipping it all the way up.  You keep yourself from laughing at the way the softest pink dusts his cheeks and his eyes divert as you pass him, you'd think they'd never seen a pair of boobs before the way these boys were acting.

"You ready?" Changbin calls over, his brow raised. He hadn't missed the brief exchange and you meet his gaze.

"I am, but do you know the choreography?" Your brows raise and Changbin gives you a smug little smirk as  answer and starts the music.

"ohmygod you're worse than Jungkook!" You babble. You swear you can hear your hips breaking as Changbin pushes down through his arms keeping your knees on the worn hardwood floor. Solid, warm muscle is pressing into your back as he leans over you.

"Stop complaining it's only a few more seconds." He huffs out, but when you tilt your head up you're met with a grin through your watery eyes. The timer goes off and you suck in a deep breath as Changbin lets you relax out of the pose. The session had been hard, he'd managed to point out technicalities that Jungkook had managed to miss or rather chose to ignore when he suggested cooldown your legs nearly gave out, it was outrageous the best modern dance program at a fucking ballet school. You weren't built for this. You lie back with a huff and watch as Changbin sets another timer.

"More?" This was crazy and he shakes his head with playful grin.

"It's only helping you." He points out and takes your now sweatpants clad legs and straighten them out for you before taking one ankle and pushing it up and towards your chest. This isn't nearly as difficult but it was uncomfortable. His arm that wasn't holding your leg was pushing your hips down to assure it from lifting and although he was sat kneeling between your legs he was still half hanging over your face. Sharp cologne, mixed with sweat was filling your airways and a thin silver chain dangled from around his neck as his he watched you. You clear your throat and head of all of your inappropriate thoughts.

"How'd you know the choreography?" You ask softly but jot your chin out just a little to assert yourself more.

Changbin smiles down at you.  The last three hours had been the most time he'd spent with you, in the last two years and he couldn't help himself, he enjoyed your company. Your confidence, your focus and drive. Your being aware of yourself, wo you are and your bold assertion of it had made him more comfortable than intimidated.

"Jungkook and I ran through it last night after you threw a temper tantrum and ran off." He watches your eyes roll dramatically ready to snap back at him with something sarcastic or mean but he doesn't give you the chance too.

"I'm also pretty familiar with it, I've done parts of it before." Your mouth closes and brows knit in a frown at the interruption and he chuckles at the expression. His fingers trail along your calve softly as he sits back and releases his grip on your ankle to do the same with the other one. But when he leans back over you his face is serious, brows drawn pensively together and lips in an angry line.  You leave it, to tired to pry.

"Y/n... I- what would you do if I made a proposition?" His sharp stare flicks from where it was staring at the floor and to your face and you squirm slightly.

"Depends, what's in it for me?" Your voice is low as each of you regard the other with hesitancy.

"An A+." Changbin answered and you laughed.

"You're funny."

"Y/N. I'm serious." You settle down and he pins you with a determined stir.

"I want to beat Yeoujun. I want his scholarship, and I want principle."  Your eyes widen at that. You didn't have much against Yeonjun besides the fact that he was annoying and reeked of talent but did nothing with it.

"That's a little harsh isn't it? I get principle but the scholarship? Aren't you guys friends?" You inquire curiously and Changbin lowers his head to avoid your gaze. When he looks back up his tongue is stuck in his cheek as he grins.

"You'd think? Either way he sure as hell doesn't fucking act like it." He says it with a little bitter chuckle. The two of you sit in that loaded silence, filled with secrets, and revenge and jealousy for a moment just staring at the other.

"What do you say?" He's leaning closer and his words just above a whisper as he continues to regard you a moment longer, eyes flickering over your face trying to read your expression the tension was palpable if you stuck out the tip of your tongue you'd taste it and Changbins lips.

The glass doors click open.

"Am I interrupting something?" A familiar voice calls and dripping with smugness. Changbin watches as you roll you eyes and sits back with a little smile as he lets go of your leg and ankle. Yup, definitely the right candidate.

You sit up from the floor and look over at the door where Yeonjun is leaning a little grin on his face as he takes in the sight of the two of you, Changbin idly resting in between your thighs.

"It's called stretching, I'm sure you've heard of it before. You know, being a ballet dancer and all?" Changbin retorts and helps you to stand. His hand rests softly in the small of your back and gives it a soft pat  to nudge you towards your bags. You zip the leotard down again, so you can breathe and fiddle your phone out of your bag to check the time and slip your feet into your sneakers. You still had 20 minutes of your session left, how rude.

"She joining us?"

"I can hear you." You voice is sharp as you basically rip your bag off the ground and walk towards them. You pause beside Changbin shifting your weight to one side as you cross your arms over your chest and let your eyes wander over Yeonjun's figure,  tall and strong and delicate features, gender envy if you've ever seen it. God he was perfect, so hopelessly beautiful and and torturously seductive, strong figure dressed in a white shirt taught across his chest and sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips.

"I'll do it." You turn your head and face Changbin who tries his best to hide his panic.

"What? Join us for dinner?" Yeonjun scoffed.

"Oh, how lovely I've been upgraded from object to person worth addressing directly. No, I would rather not join. " You retort and turn to face Changbin and soften your features in a smile as you let your hand rest on the tan skin of his bicep. The same one that had effortlessly lifted you into the hair for two hours as if you were air.

"I'll text you."

Yeonjun watches you with an aghast smile as you push past and waltz out of the doors.

"Quite the partner you got there." Changbin had been watching your figure through the glass doors and smiled to himself.

"Sure is."

The door clicked shut behind them and Changbin tossed the hood of his black hoodie over his still slightly damp hair as they made their way out of the building.

"How's your training going?" Changbin inquired out of courtesy. Yeonjun had been breezing through the almost abandoned school hallways beside him almost without a worry.

"I think she'll claw my eyes out, maybe it'll be a good thing, then I can't see all the mistakes she's making." Yeonjun huffed his arms that he'd stretched up and above over his head flopping to his sides on frustration and Changbin laughed a little at that.

"How about you?"

"It's only been a day, but she's really not as bad as you make her seem. I've never met someone who works so hard in something she won't need." Changbin shoved his hands into his pockets as they make their way across the parking lot.

It was true. Despite your complaints about stretching, you'd let him run you through every part of the routine without any reluctance. Everytime he stopped and restarted, picking at a millisecond misstep, a finger a touch out of place, or an arm not soft enough, you'd let him do so without even so much as slight glimpse of reluctance. You'd take the critisism and focus on improving every single time, Jungkook had also managed to pick a character that suited your theatricality Yeonjun had previously criticised you for. You had even managed a lack of reaction at his fumbling in the different lifts, patiently letting him get used to it.

"That doesn't always make you good." Yeonjin pointed out as Changbin unlocked his car. Changbin had to keep himself from trying to rip his driver side door off at the sudden comment. Instead he takes a moment to pause as he leans against the car roof.

"What? Was that a little harsh?" Yeonjun said in a rather insincere tone from across the car roof.

"Get in the car." Changbin grumbles in answer.

"Forget about the evaluation for a second." Changbin mumbles through a mouthful of burger. It wasn't the best dietary choice but it had been a while he'd worked so hard for such a long duration of time, not because he had to make up for what you lacked but because your determination to do well fuelled him to do the same. Yeonjin was eating away at a plate of fries and looked up at his friend curiously.

"What do you think of YN?" Yeonjun pauses slightly.

There was no denying it, there wasn't many dancer's like you at Laurier, there was actually no other dancers like you. You were an enigma. Few would suffer through years of dance programs that weren't related to their focus, or even suffer through entrance exams in forms that weren't trained just to follow their dreams. Besides that, you held a seductive air, it was part of your muscular, curvier build that many of the female ballet dancer's lacked. You were stronger, your leaps and jumps far higher than most of the female student body and closely matching some of the boys in the classes best even. Your eyes were definitely what had caught Yeonjun's attention but not because they were a particular colour. Rather it was the firey emotion that constantly burned in them. You were passionate. Whenever his eyes met your sharp gaze he saw flames burn, gold and warm.  And he'd be lying if he didn't say he envied it, just a little.

"She's pretty."

Changbins brow raises as if implying, that's all?He knew Yeonjun to well and there was clearly more to the loaded statement.

"Fine, she's more than pretty, but does that really matter? Let's be honest neither of us have been big on locker room talk 'bin." Yeonjun says pointedly and Changbin nods pensively gazing up at the ugly florescent lighting in the dingy diner. He guessed that's maybe why Yeonjun had swiped Felix out of his grasp in an instant. Because Yeonjun never cared much to discuss whom his friends might be interested in. Either way, Changbin doesn't see Felix around anymore unless he passes by a room scheduled for the younger groups ballet sessions.

"I guess you're right. I'm just asking, because I like her shitty attitude and I know most of the girls are stuck up but her words have a bite to it that I think makes her different." Changbin says out loud and steals a fry from his friend who looks him on affronted. But the words are heavy on his ears. Yes the bite, fire. Yeonjun thought, fire that burns red and angry.

"You have the weirdest taste."

"Yah, we have the same taste so don't go around insulting me just yet." Changbin said and tossed a piece of lettuce at Yeonjun but it fell short next to his plate instead.

"Yeah well, you're on your own this time." Yeonjun scoffed and wore half smirk as he picked up the glass of ice water.

"Are you sure?" Changbin said softly his sharp chin resting on his hands as he stared at his friend, eyes narrowed. Yeonjun didn't like it. Like he knew that it was a desperate dismissal of obvious attraction. His critique of your horrible technique and inexperience was something he's used to brush off his crush in his first year at the school because how could you ever be what he wanted ? You sucked and had no friends, in all honesty you were extremely bad then and he couldn't help but wonder how the fuck you made it all the way to third year evaluation.

"I think you're lying." Changbin said with a tiny smirk one that most definitely had the devil hiding behind it.

"I don't think you just happened to remember her name Yeonjun." Changbin said and chuckled as he pulled his wallet out and dug out some cash that he put on the table to cover their dinner.

"You're delusional." Yeonjun hissed and shot him a glare as he collected his bag and hoodie. Changbin was halfway to the door when he turned to face his friend again.

"And you're a terrible liar."

The atelier was empty except for the three of you. The blonde was tall and lanky, built like a dancer himself but here you were, at a fashion school. When Changbin said  he knew someone who could help with costumes you hadn't expected this.  You hadn't expected him to drag you halfway across the city in a really nice car on a Saturday morning, picking you up with a bag  filled with a white tutu in your size and some craft items to take you out to a completely different art school.

"Changbin, I hate you."

"Come on! Hyunjin you have a costume design practical next semester and all you have to do is decorate a to and spray paint a white tutu red." Changbin tried to reason but the tall, handsome man remained unimpressed.

"I hate you." Hyunjin seems to stand his ground as he stares down his shorter friend, you bite down on your lip at the exchange and your eyes widen slightly as his glare lands on you.

"But I'll do it. Only since I'm poor and you're paying rich boy." Hyunjin held up a finger before dramatically sweeping long blonde hair out of his face. You feel a sigh of relief pass through your lips for some reason.

"Also your partner is stunning." Hyunjin said with a vapid flap of his one hand in the direction where you sat. You raise your brows and smile as Changbin shoots you a quick pained glare, "You'll have to give me her number so I can use her as a model in the future for a few projects."

You sit up a little straighter at the sound of that, Chin tilting up proudly.  It wasn't that you were insecure, that wasn't the case at all. It was just that you were constantly in an environment were the bone thin and light ballet dancer was the beauty ideal and you didn't match it. It was nice, getting out and being reminded that you're most definetly an enviable beauty for some.

"We'll do fittings at your school next week." Hyunjin huffed as he pulled out the things Changbin had brought along.

"Really?" Hyunjin holds up a black t shirt and Changbin shrugs.

"You're supposed to be a prince, I can't just make you un upgraded t-shirt!"

"I would like to state for the record, that I said that too." You raise your hand and Hyunjin slaps Changbin over the back of the head and you snicker that you hide behind a cough.

"Why won't you listen to her? You're a real piece of work."  Hyunjin shakes his head and lets out a frustrated huff before pulling the measuring tape around his neck and using a finger to tell Changbin to turn.

"It won't do, I'll make you a proper coat." Hyunjin started taking Changbins measurements, wen he said a number out loud you jumped realizing he was expecting you to write it down for him. You scramble and make your way over to the book on the table beside them writing down the numbers for him.

"Thank you for being such a wonderful assistant." Hyunjin says and his warm smile has your own lips tugging upwards.

"Anytime." you assure him and he surprises you as he takes your hand and plants a soft kiss on your knuckles before turning to face his friend.

"You. If you ever try to bring me a t-shirt and think you're overthrowing a prince with it again, I will choke you." Hyunjin scolds and you raise a brow at the title curiously.

"Prince?"

"Yes, its a nickname we gave Yeonjun since he has everything." Hyunjin explained.

"Everything?" You push and Hyunjin looks over at Changbin who gives a nod of encouragement.

"Yeonjuns always been a talented dancer and well, his family is pretty well off being some of the largest investors in the art community but he also has that wonderful scholarship that his dads company has at the school."

"It's his fathers company?" That was news to you, probably because you didn't have any friends to gossip with at the school.

"And everyone's okay with it?" You ask, your face unable to hide your obvious disgust.

"Well whats anyone going to do about it? Talk to Jeong? He's her prodigy." Hyunjin reasoned.

"But the students...", You try to reason and Changbins shake of his head shuts you up.

"Don't care, everyone wants to be his friend, fuck him or already has."

"On that solemn note, please leave so I can offer up my free time to this nightmare of a project." Hyunjin shoo's the two of you out.

Once you're buckled in the seat of the passenger side of Changbins car you wait patiently as he fiddles with the buttons on the stereo.

"What's your plans for today?" Changbin asks and you shrug.

"I don't have any, unless you want to train. In which case I'm fully booked." You can't help your smile as he cackles brightly.

"Wanna do something? I mean we haven't really had time to discuss any of our uh, approaches?" Changbin struggles to fine a subtle way to say revenge plot and this time its your turn to laugh.

"What did you have in mind?" Changbin grins and starts his car as an answer.

"Changbin I can't afford anything on this menu." You hiss with wide eyes and he waves you off, as if you weren't struggling to do the maths that would keep you from compromising your already strictly ramen noodle diet.

"It's my treat then." You can't help the grimace, what was it with these super rich art school kids. You sit back in the to nice chair and stare at his eyes wandering the menu.

"Why me?" His brows dip in question. "Why did you ask me to help you with the Yeonjun issue?"

An acknowledging nod signals his understanding but he's still quiet for a moment to long.

"Your a bit of an odd case. You seem to severely dislike him and well you are something he can't have."

"Please continue." He puts his menu down on the white table cloth gently before resting his chin on his intertwined fingers.

"The Choi's, as lovely and charitable as they are, expect  perfection perhaps not from everyone but definitely from their son." You sit upright in your seat, curiosity piqued.

"You aren't exactly what is considered to be daughter-in-law material and that's not because you aren't pretty enough because lets be honest you're gorgeous. It's simply because you aren't part of the family's close friends, specifically one of the shining stars." You can't help the blush tinting your cheeks at the compliment mid explanation and Changbin notices despite the extremely soft lighting casting a glow on everything, enough to give you a small smile and a coy head tilt.

"Yeonjun doesn't have a lot of options but his romantic escapades," Changbin breathes out a humourless chuckle, "Let's just say, that's how he rebels."

"That still doesn't explain my unattainability?" You raise a brow and sit back in your seat again.

Changbin reaches over the table, careful of the vase filled with bright orange flowers and takes one of your hands softly in his own, the action was odd but not enough to alarm you.

Yet.

"Yeonjun always wants to be the best and for a while, actually, too long he has been." Changbins eyes are trained on your hand, having turned it over so he could trace the folds and lines of your palm with his fingers.

"Y/N, it takes one simple challenge. A suggestion that he might not be the best and his pride would rule him. He'd be so focused on proving everyone that his station is deserved, that he is in fact the best,  that he'd be to blind to see his own downfall coming."

"He assumes that everyone has placed him on the same pedestal that he had placed himself on his entire life, so that the idea of someone not doing so doesn't exist to him."

Changbin looks up from your hand dark glare trained on your face.

"You don't like him, and he can't believe it."

"You like me more, would rather be partnered with anyone but him?"

You nod slowly to confirm that Changbins observation is correct.

"He can't have that. He'll become obsessed with proving that you're wrong in doing so." Changbins gaze is back on your palm, his soft tracing sending a ghost of shivers down your spine.

"So not only aren't you what his parents expect but you also seem to have a solid dislike for him. It wasn't the plan, honestly." Changbin looks up at you hand squeezing yours now as if it would convey his promise as truthful.

"But it sure is convenient." You say lowly and he nods, suddenly not so sure about how good of an idea it was asking for help. He wasn't sure if the blank mask you wore could because of inner turmoil, for all he knew his explanation could have completely changed your mind in helping him out. He lets go of your hand, sliding his own back slowly his eyes fixed on your face waiting for your next reaction.  What it would be, what he was waiting for he didn't know but it certainly wasn't what he had expected.

The soft chuckle wasn't unwelcome but it was definitely confusing.

"Wow, how does that saying go? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Yeonjun took that pretty seriously, huh?" Changbin doesn't fail to see the irony.

"Don't get me wrong,  we were friends and in some twisted way I'm sure we still are."

"But?"

"But I'm tired of losing to him." Changbin slinks back into his seat hands off the table and falling helplessly to his lap.

You encourage him to continue by pouring water from the jug on the table into his glass as if its a stiff drink, like the one he seems to need.

"There was this one guy. Fuck, was it bad. He's sweet and his cheeks would squish up and make it impossible to count the freckles that was all over his cheeks and nose. I wasn't even crushing, I practically skipped that whole step and boy did I make it obvious." He was sitting back up and he wore a half assed grin one that held more than its fair share of sadness.

"No one missed it, so either Yeonjun was impossibly blind or clearly was trying to make a point." Changbin resorted to finally reaching for his glass of water but simply opted for staring at the droplets running down the side of the glass.

"So he swooped in, charmed the living daylights out of him before I could blink, promptly broke his heart and now Felix doesn't speak to any of us anymore."

"Felix? As in Felix Lee?"  The description Changbin had given wasn't terribly subtle, but it was still somewhat of a surprise.

"Yeah and unfortunately my friend didn't just betray me he broke my heart without even thinking about it twice or having the decency of  asking if my puppy dog eyes meant something."

The revenge plot was starting to make sense and as much as you didn't like Yeonjun, Changbin might've let it slip that his opinion of your ballet abilities wasn't the highest. Of course sticks and stones, but you couldn't help growing fond of Changbin a bit of a Dark cloud that hid a bundle of charm and softness that had seeped past your cold exterior. Dammit you'd even consider him a friend, your first at Laurier.

He was still clearly worried that whatever it was he was planning you'd say no too, weary glances from his hands on his glass to you. You offer him a small grin to soothe his worries.

"Oh don't worry, you still have me in your corner Binnie."  You say gently before sitting forward. "Now, what's the plan exactly?"

Yeonjun watched as your hair followed with your twirls, the red and gold feathers bouncing along with the tutu as you playfully one two stepped into a pirouette with a big smile, your eyes alight with joy as you giggled. The pretty glimmering costume sparkled brightly and he couldn't help but think that your smile seemed blinding in comparison. He'd never seen it before, such happiness coming from you while doing ballet. Granted, you were doing a terrible job at practicing proper technique or steps but the freely stepping to releve and the flowing of your arms  with the glittering feather arm bands made you truly seem like a firebird, free and joyous and beautiful.

Changbin was right the character suited you and perhaps he had maybe judged your talents as a dancer too harshly.

Your playful twirls excited grins and entertained light hearted chuckles from your audience, Hyunjin even going so far as to give you applause for your impromptu show.

"Okay, okay. Come here pretty girl so we can check that the feathers don't come off or it gets in the way." Changbin stood up his coat  black coat with the golden embellishments and lapels open over his white t shirt and he held out his hand for you to except. With a playful tug he pulled you into his chest where you giggled softly. Changbin held you in a couple of releve twirls before the two of you got serious as the two of you turned serious and he manoeuvred around the costume you to lift you as previously practiced.

Jealousy, it bubbled up inside of Yeonjun like a black sticky tar at the sight of you and one of his closest friends so comfortable with each other, in synchronization as if you two had known each other for years and not only two or three weeks.

This crush, or at least the acknowledgement was becoming dangerous. He was starting to fall back into his regular patterns, the ones he knew all to well. Looking for a specific head of hair in a crowd, a black zipped down leotard, eyes that burned with hellfire, without even thinking about it, second nature almost. He was on a downhill drop to being absolutely infatuated and this new version of you, free and happy it was only stoking the hearth in his heart. It wasn't helping his cause.

For once he felt like he'd lost to Changbin.

Be it because he knew you so well, or because he had the burden of being your partner or perhaps because he was the one to witness your joy or perhaps instigate it.

He'd never really been sure what incited your icy exterior and furious glares in his direction. He'd avoided you for most years  but now he was wondering if rather it was the other way around and why it was bothering him that you would.

He'd never considered himself to be narcissistic and yet, what would force you of all people to stay so far away from him? Few who weren't exes and even then few of those actively tried to avoid Yeonjun in the way he was quickly piecing together that you had. Finally it would seem you were in arms reach, not so far away. Changbin was his link to you now, he might just have a shot at pulling you closer, pulling you towards him, the same way you had started pulling him towards you.

The night had started off wild,with too many  beers and too many soju bottles littering the countertop of Wooyoungs apartment when the three of them left. That it was crazy getting more when they met up with a few other s but he didn't realize it would result in this.

"Yeonjun whats your deal man?" Wooyoung said bright smile and cheerful giggle following after as he slung an arm over his much taller friends shoulders and pulled him into a hug, never scared of affection but it was too much. It was a lot with the buzz and the loud music and the smoke filled air.

"I don't have a deal." Yeonjun grumbled but didn't even try to shove his friend off of him.

"He's just mad that my dance partner doesn't like him." Changbin said with a teasing lilt but that obnoxious little smirk was rubbing him wrong. This time he did shove Wooyoungs arm off of him as he stepped closer and peered down at Changbin, bare of the grin he'd previously worn. He wasn't tilting his head back to meet Yeonjuns stare no instead e simply looked up through his lashes his dark glare daring Yeonjun to  do what he so desperately wanted too, knowingly.

"Admit it, you're jealous." Changbin said softly the same smirk growing as he knew his words hit true to their mark. He could tell by the way Yeonjun stiffened.

"You can't have her, she doesn't want you." His words were barely a whisper but the way Yeonjuns anger was zeroing in on his friend, blocked out all other sounds, "And nothing you do will change her mind."

"Because she doesn't care and guess what? You aren't as fucking great as you think you are." Yeonjun shoved Changbin back and was ready to swing when someone pulled him back to no avail as he stepped closer to Changbin who promptly stopped him from landing any hits as he took a hold of his wrists before both of them were promptly ripped apart.

"Go cool off!" Wooyoung practically pushed Yeonjun into one of their other friends who was standing behind him as he pulled him away from Changbin who was steadied with a firm hand on Wooyoungs chest .

"Go!" Wooyoung voiced again, louder and Yeonjun ripped himself away as he shoved his way through the thick crowd.

This place had been playing tricks on his mind since he got here, what had brought Changbin to suggesting this place from their usual spots?

The energy was strange here, it was something other from just dancing in the air. No here, the thickness of lust and sex seemed to hang in the air. It was starting to make him act up in ways he never would've dreamed of.

Yeonjun swept the cold water over his face. This was outrageous he'd never even thought of picking a fight with Changbin at least not physically.  He breathed out sigh before sweeping the damp black tresses and back out of his face he straightened only to be met by the sight of you. He must be really drunk to be hallucinating now. He blinked hard and realized that it wasn't a hallucination. A bright yellow fish darted across his vision and his brain caught up with his vision. The men's room was separated from the women's by a bright fish tank, one that stretched its length glowing bright and filled with an array of both large and small colourful fish.

You haven't noticed him, eyes trained on the small compact in your hand as you reapplied the lipstick shade you had selected to wear for the evening.

It wasn't love at first sight. No, he'd seen you before, on numerous different occasions but now...

The sight of you sobered him up more than the cool water ever could, hair that was usually pulled back now framing your face, figure graced in a short white dress , with a generous neckline much like that leotard you favoured, the golden lighting above the individual sinks lighting up your skin made you glow.

It definitely wasn't love but something had changed, maybe it was him finally admitting his pining for you.

Your eyes caught his as soon as you snapped the compact shut, not a hint of surprise dawning on your features.

Instead you hold his stare as you put everything back into your small clutch a ghost of a smile on your face as you step back from the glass and walk away, only breaking the silent battle when the door hides your figure.

Yeonjun darts out of the bathroom and immediately seeks the figment of his imagination his head must of conjured because it was impossible, that you'd appear here, in the midst of all his way to high strung out emotions. He caught a glance of your figure sashaying through the crowds that seemed to move aside at the meer sense of your presence, everyone making space for you as you pass, to afraid to even graze themselves against you. Yeonjun squeezes through the gyrating figures,  tall long body squeezed out and pushed out of the way, his idea to follow in your wake becoming exceptionally difficult with each surge of the bass and bright flare of  light. White strobes creating stop motion images of the people dancing around him.

As he finally escapes the dancefloor he spots your figure leaning up against the bar, Changbin leaning over it as he whispers something in your ear that tempts a beautiful grin to your lips. Yeonjun immediately pushes away the ugly head of anger that threatened to instigate another fight and plastered on a smirk before sliding in beside the pair of you.

It was strange seeing him through the fish tank damp black strands hanging over his heavy lidded eyes and pouty lips parted aghast. You'd never seen him in anything other than sweats or dance clothes, you would be lying if you didn't say the white muscle tank didn't look good on him, long lean arms, toned enough that as he leaned against the sink you could see the way the muscles in his shoulders moved and now you could see he had paired it with some black jeans that came up high enough to accentuate  his enviably tiny waist.

"Changbin, sorry for interrupting but I'd like to invite Y/N to the dancefloor?" His eyes stayed glued to your face and you dared a glance towards Changbins whos dark analytical gaze encouraged you to play the game.

"And why would I dance with you?" You tease, acting coy as you fiddle a strand of hair around your index finger he bites as he leans closer with his hands tucked into his pockets.

"Well I don't believe we've ever had the pleasure of being partners and well it might be best in a space you'd be comfortable." He leans back with a grin one that so obviously says he's proud of his little insult.

"Is that so?" You barely keep the snappiness out of your tone as you glare him down. Yeonjun tries to suppress the chills the look is giving him. You hand your purse over to Changbin and walk past him a shove at his shoulder, your heels making you tall enough to dare the push without it seeming pathetic. Yeonjun chuckles incredulous before turning on his heels to catch up with your long strides, by the time he's close enough to reach you he realizes you've managed to find people that seem to be your own friends judging by their friendly smiles and the way they made space for you the song the DJ was currently playing resembled dance hall and all though he was aware that his mind severely undersold your dancing abilities he wasn't expecting the sight in front of him. With not a single care for the shortness of the dress or the vulgarity of the moves your hips seemed to lead your body in a seductive rhythm that had Yeonjun staring even if he was sure it was inappropriately. Every time you caught his eyes, your grin told him he'd lost. He didn't even stand a chance to start with. He would've had better luck in the dance studio.

It felt good, a different kind of thrill. Shutting him up even if it was for just a little while, especially after you heard what his opinion was of your dancing ability.

He trailed you back to the bar and with a defeated smile watched you order a drink.

"I have severely underestimated you, I apologize." Yeonjun says with that same small grin and a shake of his head and you beam.

"Apology accepted." You chuckle and brush your hair out of your face as you watch him.

"I really messed up." Yeonjun bites down on his bottom lip and you force your eyes away from his plump pouty lips to his eyes.

"Yes you did." You agree and he chuckles brightly and loudly.

"I meant," He steps closer, leaning down lips brushing up against your ear as he lowers his voice,"If I had just been honest with myself, you might have been doing those moves on me." He pulls back and your head is a whirlwind of thoughts. Honest with himself?  What was that supposed to mean? Either way it didn't matter, your stomach and well other parts of your body were fluttering dangerously at the implications of his words. Your drink arrives and so does Changbin who saddles up to your side comfortably, his arm wrapping around your waist and you let him so you can lean into his strong body and take some pressure of your feet in their heels. Yeonjuns gaze darkens.

"I'm happy we came, this place is way cooler than the uptight clubs we always go to." Changbin announces and Yeonjuns brow dips, he didn't think this place was all that great but judging by the sweat that was dotting his friends forehead, the music and his chosen partners were the reasons behind his high praise.

Your butterflies still hadn't calmed and the alcohol made you dare the chance.

"You finally ready to be my dance partner properly?" You shoot a grin in Yeonjuns direction, one he missed because he was busy staring at Changbins arm around your waist.

"Yeonjun?" You call and it finally seems to click you were talking to him.

"Of course." He dares a grin and bows slightly as he offers his hand formally, you scoff and with a roll of your eyes take the hand offered. He laces his fingers through yours and pulls you away from Changbin's grip only letting go to hold your hands up so you could spin.

One thing you realized,  Yeonjun was a sore loser. He'd stepped into your space as the songs continued to switch through the mix list, this only resulted in him proving his own ability to follow a beat in time with your movements. Pressed closer together the air only got stickier, and you could feel the cold drops of sweat running down your spine as time was lost to you and apparently all form of  rational thought too. It was only when a tender but heavy kiss found the back of your neck that you realized, you were dancing with the enemy in a way that could possibly have you arrested for public indecency. You took a step away and turned steeling your gaze so you didn't look like the deer in headlights you had suddenly become.

Because as much as shutting Yeonjun up was fun this was making you want to find out if there was other ways to have fun with him, you couldn't promise yourself you wouldn't end up in a more compromising position with him and that was definitely not the plan. You eye him for a moment his surprised expression, hair hangning in his eyes or matted against his forehead, in a similar manner to how the white tank was sticking to his chest hand reaching out to grab your hand again. You press past a couple and dissapear back to the bathroom.

So this was how people got swept up in the hurricane Yeonjun was. Distracted by the pretty lashes, sharp eyes that devoured you whole and those terribly soft lips. Ghosts of his fingers ran over your body, everywhere he had dared to touch so surely, the spot on the back of your neck burning at the memory of  the kisses weight. You dared a look into the floor length mirror parallel to the door you'd rushed through. He'd left you a mess, sticky with sweat and smudged mascara around your eyes, breathless and hair messy. You couldn't help but wonder what power it is he possessed to so easily dishevel your appearance.  You purposefully rub at the dark circles under your eyes and dare to pat some cold water to your neck to collect yourself before entering the fray again. It wasn't hard to find him, your body now drawing towards him like a magnet as if he was the sun, tugging you into his atmosphere, but the body plastered to him quickly stops you. Life had a lovely way of reminding you why you'd avoided the beauty, his gravitational pull always seemed to have room for more. With a scoff and a reality check you press your way towards the man that still had your bag. Changbin was stuck in a booth with some other friends your purse on the table in front, whomever he'd been dancing with earlier nowhere to be seen.

"I'm leaving." Changbin shoots up as you grab your purse.

"I'll come with you." He insists and just as you're ready to politely decline a voice interrupts.

"Y/N?" Yeonjun is beside you a hand on your shoulder, brows furrowed as if concerned but a quick peak over his shoulder makes you aware the guy he'd found wasn't hanging to far off . You shrug of his hand and fix your eyes on Changbin.

"That'd be great." Changbin follows after you, hand on the small of your back as the pair of you trail towards the exit leaving Yeonjun to watch after with an empty pang in his chest. He tried to will his feet to move after you but it didn't instead, he stood glued eyes following over the crowd as Changbin accompanied you out the door with his arm around your shoulder and you tucked into his side.

Yeonjun had been left to observe you from far away for the final week before the showcase, in passing when you came in to the studio with Changbin after his own practice slot. You didn't acknowledge his presence, instead focusing on the music or your practice tutu or your pointes instead of him.

But he chalked it down to you simply trying to focus on what was to come.

When he finally did get to see you it was minutes before your peformance, dressed in gold and red. Hair slicked back and a headband of red and gold feathers over it, even with the light from the stage you glowed, shimmered with beauty and charm as you warmed up, smiling at the stage hands that passed you. He came up beside you and for the first time in a week your eyes fell on him.

"YN, I just wanted to say goodluck and well I was wondering if when we could go dancing together again?" Yeonjun was leaning up against the bar you were busy stretching on.

You laugh soft enough to not bother the other performance but still full and hearty, Yeonjun raises a brow he hadn't said anything funny.

"Sorry its just, well you must be blind." Yeonjun takes a step back as he watches her lips quirk upwards. It was just the two of them and the stage hands, Changbin was in the other wing waiting for the curtains for the rendition of the dance of the snowflakes to end. No one to witness the mask that seemed to fall away from the beautifully painted face.

"You know at first I was jealous of you. Perfect, you. With the perfect scholarship, not that you need it because of your daddy. Then I was angry because how could you waste time like that and still be so good. Well now...", Firey eyes ringed with read eyeshadow and golden flakes, disdainfully drags over his figure from head to toe.

"Now I'm just disappointed."

"Yeonjun I hate you, but not because you ever even had the chance to break my heart because lets be honest I'm not half as dumb as you think." You stop stretching as you step closer towards him where he was now frozen in place.

"No, I hate you because you have everything,  all that you'd need to be the best but you're to distracted to ever reach your full potential."

"I don't need this, I'm a modern dancer, to contemporary for the genre anyway. I don't give a fuck about Jeong." Yeonjun sucks in a breath not at the crass words but rather the quotation of his own critique of your abilities, "... but you, you're her little prodigy and you have to do well, you have a scholarship and a family name that you need to maintain. My inability to be perfect means nothing. " You brush an invisible dust particle off his exposed shoulder before continuing.

"Your imperfections though, every single little mistake, every little misstep everyone out there will be looking for exactly that, they're waiting for your downfall and me?" You look up at him blazing eyes staring at him from behind bright red eyeshadow, "well, I'm praying for it."

Even if Yeonjun wasn't speechless he wouldn't have been able to actually retaliate because a 30 second call was made for your stage. Your grin didn't falter in fact it grew to the big stage smile every dancer wore while performing as you turned away from his figure as the pair on stage passed by you at the entrance of the wing you were waiting in.  The lights on the stage lit up as Changbin entered the stage, the black velveten coat and golden decorations glimmered under the light bright and bold, but it casted a bright glow around your figure, lighting up the red and gold feathers of your tutu in a warm light only growing brighter as you started your dance onto the stage. Yeonjun eyes were glued to you, the performance that of which was visible from where he stood taking his breath away. It might've been the lack of oxygen or perhaps it was shock, the fogginess that clouded the edges of his vision as his eyes followed the soft movements of your arms, the bounce of the tutu as you leaped through the air, even the arch of your spine as Changbin hoisted you up and over his head, held you in his arms time and time again as the battle of freedom between the firebird an he prince commenced. He saw the pretty picture of sorrow and torment as the Firebird fought to break free and the prince with his own battle of caging the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in and ultimately be the cause of its death.  The longing on the prince's face as she disappears and leaves him with only a single mark of her, a red feather.

It's only then he feels the insistent tug of his partner at his arm, trying to pull him closer towards the exit of the wing for his own performance. Yeonjun tried to force himself to focus but his eyes landed on the pair a moment before walking onto the stage. Your body was being squeezed in a joyous hug, Changbin cheering silently as he spun you around, your own smile was bright, big and effervescent. Blinding just like the stage lights that obscured the audience, even the front row he knew was reserved for lecturers and special guests. He could only hear the blood rushing in his ears that's probably why he missed the first few counts. He was  behind now, muscle memory kicking in but never being enough to chase the fog far enough to catch up but only to make him more aware of the battle he was fighting to get back on beat. His body wouldn't let him, it was like there was a really strange weight keeping his legs and arms from moving right, but his head seemed to be floating, miles away from here.  Off in the wings where you had been smiling, happy in someone else's arms. Smiling as your lips move, your eyes on fire as his world falls apart a little, by little as you utter those words, those prayers , those hopes of imperfections  coming true with every note and every misstep and every delayed catch of his partners hand, he can feel it. The stuffy auditorium, how it was starting to suffocate him, the bitter taste of disappointment, of failure on the tip of his tongue as the shallow breaths passed over his dry lips and he inhaled the small particles of dust that everyone could see in the bright lights that was shining on every mistake he made.

As those curtains closed and the lack luster applause was still fuzzy to his ears, blood still rushing through it. He realized you'd wished his worse fears upon him, that they'd come true .

That those velveteen curtains blocking out the stage lights, was like the sun disappearing, that you'd burned so bright for the brief moment he'd set his sights on you. So bright he didn't realize how dark it would be when his downfall came.

[mandoalorian]

Don’t Let Me Go  [Maxwell Lord x Reader] SMUT

Summary: Spiralling in a circle of guilt and blame, Maxwell Lord reflects on the night he let you slip through his fingers. He just wishes he had seen the warning signs sooner. Then maybe he wouldn't have lost you.

Word count: 8k 

Author's note: This is my longest one shot so far oh my gosh. Please note that everything that is in bold italics are flashbacks. I hope you enjoy! Xx

MASTERLIST 

 ~ gif by: pajamasecrets

••••••••

There was simply no way to put into words how Maxwell Lord was feeling. Without you, his suburban-manor home was empty. Completely empty. Nothing but the drip of a leaky faucet echoing through the oversized kitchen, and the padding of his shuffled footsteps as he made his way to the bar to pour himself a drink. He didn't cook anymore, but he wasn't feeling the pain of going hungry. His bed wasn't made, but it didn't matter because he couldn't sleep in it anymore knowing that your scent still haunted the blankets. He would slumber around his house in a shirt that had been unevenly buttoned up and probably hadn't been washed in a week. His eyes were tired, cheeks were tear stained and he hadn't taken absence from work this long in his whole life. His job was what lost you. How could he ever want to go back?

 Maxwell was unravelling back into the mean spirited man he was before he met you— but somehow, worse. He didn't have friends, he had business associates. And he had chosen to cut himself off from his mother due the awful way she had treated him his whole life. If his own mother could see the broken shell of a man that Maxwell had become, she would laugh in his face. She would reprimand him, and tell him how she had warned him not to fall in love. Business first, always. But it was that same advice that she had ingrained into him from such a young age, which would inevitably be his downfall.  All he ever had, was you. And that was enough. That was all he needed.

 Maxwell hardly remembered life before you but he was certain it didn't hurt this bad. He had experienced loss before; with his father when he was only sixteen— but this was a different kind of loss. You were still out there. You were living your life, and you had chosen to do it without him. How could you? How could Maxwell possibly survive without you? He opened up to you like he had with no other. He softened around you and the level headed businessman had become completely dependent on you.

 When you were with him, you changed him into a better man. You encouraged him to tidy for himself, taught him how to cook meals and insisted that he even did his own dishes afterwards. You would scold him gently for not making his side of the bed until eventually, he was making both sides of the bed, and even doing laundry.

 You both shared a schedule— waking up at the same time every dawn. Sharing cuddles and kisses and intimate touches in bed under the morning sunlight. Eventually getting up and taking your turns to cook breakfast. Whether it be blueberry pancakes or eggs, or sometimes Maxwell would surprise you with an array of exciting different foods from all around the world. Then, you would head back to your bedroom and dance in your shared walk-in closet, laughing together as you picked out your outfit of the day. You’d tie his tie and straighten his suspenders before helping him into his suit jacket. He loved the way you'd style his hair on a morning. Maxwell was a perfectionist but you knew just the way he liked things and he really admired that about you. You'd brush your teeth together and he'd paint your face with your favourite face cream. When you applied your lipstick, you'd always give him a surprise kiss and make your mark on him. He'd reluctantly scrub the lipstick stain off his cheek, or jaw, or chin, or wherever you had planted it that day, but now he wished he still had every mark you had ever made on him.

 You were so understanding too. This was the longest relationship either of you had ever committed to before. You fell in love with each other hard and fast— but the honeymoon phase seemingly never ended. Everyday was a new and exciting ride with Maxwell. He knew how much you wanted children, and a family. You'd bring it up now and again. One day, Maxwell felt as though he should open up to you.

 He explained how he had never considered having children because of his own personal relationship with his family. He informed you about how absent his parents were, and he imagined himself to be like his late father; too consumed in his own work and business to give any attention to his son. Max knew that pain all too well due to experiencing it firsthand. He would never want that for his children. It was nothing to do with you— he has no doubt in his mind how excellent of a mother you would be. But to Max, being a CEO and father just didn't go hand in hand. Of course, this shattered you, but it wasn't a deal breaker because Maxwell was the complete love of your life. With kids or without kids, as long as you had Max, you believed you would live a lifetime of satisfaction and genuine happiness.

 Maxwell Lord hadn't known love until he met you, and the truth is, from the moment he laid his eyes on you, he was infatuated. He knew he just had to have you. And so he spent weeks trying to woo you and win you over. He started with all he ever known, buying you jewellery from Tiffany’s, Louis Vuitton heels and the most gorgeous crimson red shade of Dior lipstick that he dreamed of you wearing on multiple occasions. But it didn't faze you.

 "I don't need all of this," you sighed, placing the large white box on the table and re-wrapping it with the silver silk ribbon. Maxwell furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "There are people out there who walk around the streets of DC in winter with holes in their shoes, mothers who can't afford ChapStick nevermind Dior Lipstick."

 Maxwell hesitated. No woman had ever rejected the material items he had purchased for them. They'd always sweep them away with a familiar glint in their eye and, to show their appreciation, would go down on him later that night. He lulled his head to the side. "Not even the necklace?" Maxwell questioned, rubbing his thumb over his lower lip.

 You breathed an elongated sigh, taking the Tiffany’s box and opening it once more with a small click. You adored the necklace. A small silver chain with a crystal heart in the centre. You could only guess that it was Swarovski. In the sunlight, the crystal gleamed a prism of rainbow colours— like a kaleidoscope. It was simply magnificent and unlike any other necklace you had seen before.

 “It is beautiful.” you hummed, admiring the way it sparkled before your eyes. Maxwell took the box from your hands and removed the necklace. He stood up and gently moved your hair to one side, his soft fingers brushing against your skin making your heart flutter. He clipped the necklace in place and adjusted it so the small crystal heart fell over your chest.

 "It brings out your eyes." Maxwell smiled and you felt your cheeks heat up at his comment. "Please, keep the necklace. I see how much you like it. And it suits you so well."

 You looked at yourself in the mirror. Still standing behind you, Maxwell swung his arms around your hips and pulled you into his chest. He gently pressed a kiss into the crook of your neck. "Thank you Max," your voice was barely above a whisper. "But please, no more gifts. All I need is you."

 Your words took Maxwell by surprise because he had never heard no such thing from any of his partners before. It was true, you meant your sentiment completely, all you needed was his attention, his care, his love, and most importantly him. That is where he went wrong and what would ultimately be the downfall to your relationship.

 "I will wear this everyday!" you beamed proudly with a grin so wide. Maxwell felt chuffed with your love for the necklace. "I won't ever take it off." You promised him. "Let it be a symbol of our first date."

 "The start of our relationship?" Maxwell proposed and you let out a small squeal as your arms tightened around him and you buried your head into the softness of his chest. The buttons of his shirt poked into your cheek but you didn't care, and you felt your eyes close as he brushed his fingers softly through your hair.

 "The start of our relationship." you confirmed with a smile.

 Maxwell threw the crystalled whiskey glass to the wall at the memory, his already broken heart shattering into even smaller pieces. He didn't think it was possible, and yet. The amber liquid dripped against the white walls and the glass deflected back at him, cutting his hand. A thin stripe of blood leaked down his arm and he done nothing but simply swallow a curse. It didn't even hurt. He was completely numb.

 He hated what he had become, and there was no one to blame other than himself. Sometimes he would try to hate you. He would take a look at himself in the mirror and feel nauseated at the sight of him. He was a mess, and he couldn't stand to feel any more self hatred. He couldn't take it. He couldn't live like this. He remembered when his schedule at work became a lot more hectic and he was away on business trips a lot. He'd call you, every night without fail from his hotel room. You'd be spread out on his bed, sporting his favourite button down work shirt and pair of shorts. The sight alone would be enough to make Maxwell hurry home quicker than The Flash. But he had work commitments that he simply could not leave behind.

 "How many more business trips?" You tried to keep composed for him, but just hearing his voice and knowing he was hundreds of miles away from you felt like a knife in your heart.

 "It could be like this up until the end of the year. Canada isn't easy to do dealings with. Not even my charm can succumb the president." Maxwell chuckled lightheartedly, and you allowed a small yet pained smile to creep upon your lips. He truly had no idea how much you were hurting without him, but, it sounded like he was doing just fine without you.

 "Max, time for dinner!" You heard an unfamiliar feminine voice call in the background. You froze up, a shiver racing down your spin and goosebumps rising on your arms. 

 Silence.

 "Who was that?" you asked your boyfriend cautiously, your fingers anxiously twiddling on the crystal necklace he had gifted you months prior.

 "Oh, that was my assistant, Barbara," Maxwell explained non-chalantely. "You remember? I had to get a new assistant. Veronica couldn't come to Canada so…"

 "Oh." you replied, voice cold. "She called you Max." you stated matter of factly. You couldn't just let that slide.

 "Well yeah," he chuckled. "That's my name."

 "Everyone at work calls you Mr Lord." you deadpanned. "Or sir."

 "I mean, yeah, that's true I suppose. But Barbara's new and I never specified otherwise. Besides, I'm growing to like the informality. No doubt that's your doing." He laughed. But you weren't sharing the same energy.

 "You're having dinner with her?" You hoped you weren't sounding pushy, or clingy, but you had to know.

 "Yeah, she got us reservations at this fantastic Italian restaurant. We went last night too." Maxwell was smiling on the other end of the line but you felt like screaming at this revelation. "Actually, I think you'd love it there. I hear Canada is beautiful at Christmas time. Maybe I can clear some time off in December and I'll take you?" he suggested. Usually you'd be so excited at this proposal of his, telling him you'd be packing your bags immediately. But not this time.

 You trusted your boyfriend. You really did. But you couldn't stand the fact that he was in a different country with another woman who you'd never even met before. Jealousy riled in your stomach and you wondered what she was like. Not only that, but Maxwell had a long winded history of sleeping with his assistants and you were completely aware of how desperate his sex drive could be. The more you thought about it, the more your stomach churned. But you just couldn't escape the thoughts.

 You wondered what Barbara was like. Maxwell's assistants were always young and beautiful. They wore the nicest clothes to impress him and made such an effort every single day. Of course, this was before you. He'd select his assistants based on looks rather than qualifications. If they couldn't pour him a good cup of coffee, that was okay because they'd be gone after a week anyway. You wondered if he had employed Barbara based on her looks.

 He called your name. "Are you there?" He asked.

 "Uhm, yeah, I should go." You told him hastily, suddenly feeling the urge to hurry to run to the bathroom. You felt like you had to throw up.

 "Oh, okay," Maxwell replied. He often struggled picking up on the little prompts you would make that illustrated you weren't okay. It was no fault of his own, but unless you explicitly stated that something was wrong, the chances were, he would just assume that everything is okay. "Well, can I call you the same time tomorrow?"

 "Okay." you shakily exhaled, praying he didn't notice your growing anxiety. If he noticed, he would confront you about it. That was just his nature.

 "Okay. I love you sweetheart." You could practically hear his grin. A single tear slipped down your cheek.

 "I love you too." You told him before slamming the phone down on the hook.

 Maxwell was taken aback by your abrupt end to the phone call. He sat on the edge of his bed, processing your words. He went to dial your number again because he felt in his heart that there was a chance that something could be wrong.

 "Maaaaaax," Barbara called again, snapping the businessman out of his thoughts. "We're going to be late." Barbara sauntered over to Maxwell, his tie in her hand and placed it around his neck. She went to cross it over when he gently put his hand out to stop her.

 "That's okay," he said. "I can tie it myself."

 Barbara stiffened at his rejection but after a few seconds of awkward silence, she shuffled away.

 That was the very first time Max being away had bothered you to unmeasurable amounts. You struggled to sleep without him anyway, but that night, you were completely restless. Tossing and turning— imagining him with his assistant doing unspeakable things together. You couldn't count the amount of journeys you made to your en-suite bathroom. Not only that, but you were ridden with guilt. If Maxwell found out you were doubting his faithfulness, he would be devastated.

 And it only got worse.

 He spent more time away. Longer business trips. He had to cancel the December trip to Canada that he promised. It felt like he was slipping through your fingers.

 Maxwell fell to his knees when the memory of your break-up hit him like a ton of bricks.

 Maxwell put the phone down with a smile. “Albert has invited Edward and I over for drinks tonight." he announced. You adjusted the red roses he had brought home for you and put the glass vase in different locations around the dining room, trying to gauge where they would look nicest.

 "You said no, right?" You asked, manouvering a rose to one side, being careful not to prick your finger on the stem.

 "Why would I say no?" Maxwell asked.

 You pricked your finger.

 "Shit." you hissed, your blood dripping down your hand. Maxwell grabbed a flannel and wet it under the kitchen tap. He walked over to you and carefully wrapped it around the cut. You winced at his contact.

 "Does it hurt?" Maxwell asked, dabbing at the cut being as careful as he could.

 "That you forgot we had plans tonight and agreed to see Albert and Edward?" you asked, bitterness dripping from your tongue. Maxwell pulled away, knotting his eyebrows together in confusion. "Yeah Max, it hurts."

 "We didn't have plans." Maxwell said, folding his arms over his chest.

 "This is your only night home!" You cried out. All your emotions while he had been gone were pent up inside of you and this was the final straw. "I rented a movie, I got the popcorn maker out!" 

 Maxwell took a peek at his gold wrist watch. "We could watch half the movie and you know, I don't really like popcorn that much anyway." He was actually serious about ditching you on his only night home. You were so angry. "Listen baby, I won't be gone all night. And when I get home, we can have a little fun ourselves. I won't be too late, I promise. Besides, I've missed you-" He suggested, voice low. You let Maxwell's fingers trace your skin, and he meant it in nothing but a comforting way, and yet you had the urge to smack his hand away from you.

 "No!" You folded your arms across your chest and shook your head.

 "No?" Maxwell quizzed, confused. "But baby-"

 "Max how can you be so… so…." you struggled to even find words but you hoped he had picked up on the frustration in your tone of voice.

 "What?" He beckoned you but all you could do was hide your face in your hands. You were so close to tears. You wanted to beg him to stay with you, but the point is, you knew that you shouldn't have to beg. Maxwell awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "You know I was suggesting sex, right?"

 You narrowed your eyes in his direction. "Oblivious." you said. "You're so oblivious." 

 "You're keeping something from me." Maxwell deadpanned.

 "You're keeping something from me." You repeated.

 "No I'm not."

 "Yes you are."

 "No I'm not."

 "And so what if I ask Barbara?" you asked, but regretting the words instantly as they left your mouth.

 Maxwell blinked, completely dumbfounded. "Ask Barbara what?"

 "Ohhh what went on in Canada? What you both get up to on these business trips. You're with her more than you're with me." You accused. But it was the truth.

 "I'm not following." Maxwell said. "Are you trying to accuse me of something?" You couldn't even look at him. Then it dawned on him. "You think I'm cheating on you." His blood ran cold.

 You didn't know what to say. It was true. You had suspected. But gauging by his reaction, and the way his voice cracked, you knew right then and there you had been wrong. And that you had hurt him. Maxwell loosened his tie and leaned against the kitchen counter.

 "Tell me." He urged.

 "Yes," you whispered, looking at your feet in shame. "I thought that… I thought…"

 "Tell me," he repeated. "I want to hear you say it."

 "I thought you were cheating on me with Barbara." you admitted with a sigh, and looked up at your boyfriend with hazy, tear filled eyes. "Max…" you let your voice trail off and put your hand against your raising heart.

 "How could you?" he asked in disbelief.

 "You always slept with your assistants… before me. And you were so secretive about Barbara. You went out to Italian restaurants together. And I just thought-"

 "That I was sleeping with her?!" He raised his voice at you and oh boy, you hated when he shouted at people. He never shouted at you, that's one thing for sure, but when you had first met, he shouted a lot. He shouted at the people he worked with, he shouted at his colleagues, his secretary, his assistants. He definitely had grown out of the habit since he entered his relationship with you but Maxwell was so angry right now...

 "Well can you blame me?!" You yelled at him back feeling defensive.

 "I can't believe you don't trust me." Maxwell shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know Barbara did make advances on me." You felt your fingers curl into a fist. "But I rejected her, obviously. I warned her if she keeps at it she'll have to find another job."

 You laughed and rolled your eyes. "Because you can't resist the temptation of her."

 "What the fuck, no?!" Maxwell bellowed and his voice was so loud your heart dropped. You completely froze up. "Because I didn't want to disrespect you. I'm not going to stand for other women trying to make their move on me when I'm faithful to you!" 

 "Can you please stop yelling." Your voice was quiet— begging, almost.

 But he didn't stop. "I have never ever given you a reason not to trust me." Maxwell felt so hurt. He felt heartbroken. He would've never have second guessed you like this.

 "Will you stop fucking yelling at me?!" You shouted, tears streaming down your face in anger.

 Maxwell stood there in silence, watching you bubble up and cry. Truthfully, he was finding it difficult to keep it together himself. He'd normally come to you, pull you in a hug and wipe your tears away, nursing you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. But he just stood there, frozen and staring. You wiped your tears away yourself and took a deep breath before grabbing your jacket and purse from the coat rack.

 "Where are you going?" Maxwell sighed.

 "I'm leaving." you stated. You knew this was it. And you couldn't even bring yourself to look back at him. If you looked at him one more time, it might be enough to stay. And you couldn't stay. Nothing had ever hurt this much.

 "What? Well when will you be back?" Maxwell questioned.

 "I'm not coming back." You swung your purse over your shoulder and Maxwell followed you to the front door.

 "What the hell do you mean?" he called after you.

 "I'm leaving you." your own words felt like daggers in your heart.

 "What?" Maxwell asked.

 "Please don't come find me." You told him, your fingers tracing the door handle. You opened the door and set foot on the patio, looking up at the setting sun. It reminded you of all the moments you spent with Maxwell, lounging outside waiting for the stars to come out, or the evenings where you'd be tidying up the garden after a barbecue. "You know, I really did love you Max." You whispered, a tear slipping from your eye.

 "Just. Come back inside and we can talk about this. I'm, I'm sorry for yelling. Please." Maxwell begged, his voice cracking. He held his arm out for you and wished so desperately that you would turn around and take his hand. But you didn't.

 "It's not just the yelling Max, you're prioritising your work over our relationship."

 "Baby, you knew it would be this way when you got with me. I told you."

 "I just don't think I can handle it." You sniffed.

 "Come back inside and we can talk about it." Maxwell said but you shook your head.

 "Goodbye Maxwell." 

 Maxwell's grip on the bathroom sink was so tight, his knuckles went white. His own reflection made him sick. This wasn't him. This wasn't Maxwell Lord.

 Maxwell Lord didn't lose. He didn't lose anything. He didn't lose business negotiations, he didn't lose business deals and he certainly wouldn't lose the love of his life. He had to stop moping, he had to make this right.

 He ran to the dining room and swung the phone of the hook, dialing the home number of his driver, Jeeves. "Come on, come onnnn." he mumbled to himself, tapping his foot impatiently. It was the dead of night and Maxwell was aware that Jeeves would be at home with his family, asleep. But this was important and Maxwell paid Jeeves enough to be able to answer the phone at 1:30am, that's for sure.

 "Hello?" A tired Jeeves greeted Maxwell.

 "Where is Y/N staying?" Maxwell asked abruptly. Straight to the point.

 "Mr Lord… with all due respect…"

 "Jeeves I need to know and I need to know now," Maxwell cut him off. "Don't make me come down there."

 "Sir, you should be asleep."

 "Jeeves." Maxwell raised his voice sternly. "I don't have time for games. Where is she?"

 Jeeves sighed. "Last I heard, she was at the Waterfront Hotel." Maxwell scribbled the name down on a torn piece of paper and hurriedly crumpled it into the pocket of his light grey sweatpants.

 "Thank you Jeeves."

 "Will you be needing me to take you there?" Jeeves yawned.

 "No," Maxwell said. "Go back to sleep. I'll take the Porsche. Drive myself."

 "Ah, excellent choice. Okay, goodnight Mr Lord." Jeeves yawned again.

 "Send Elizabeth and the children my love. I'm sorry for bothering you." Maxwell apologised and slammed the phone down on the hook.

 Jeeves’ wife, Elizabeth, rubbed her eyes and shuffled upwards. "Who was calling at this ungodly hour?"

 Her husband hesitated, confusion evident in his face. "It was Maxwell Lord. I think he's going after Y/N."

 Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Oh thank goodness for that."

 "I know… he's really lost it without her," Jeeves admitted, shaking his head. "He told me that he sends you and the kids his love." 

 Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "Maxwell Lord said that?" she asked in disbelief and Jeeves shrugged his shoulders.

 "It’s Y/N," He replied. "She just has that effect on him."

 You'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't miss him. You thought about him every second of every day— and you weren't doing too well yourself. You hadn't left the hotel room once. You couldn't bring yourself to eat. You found it difficult to sleep. Your final words to him haunted you.

 "I really did love you."

 Why did you say that? Why would you make him believe that you no longer loved him? You wondered if he had moved on yet, perhaps initiated a relationship with Barbara. You wondered if he had resorted to his old ways and had been fucking and dumping his assistants. You wondered if he still thought about you.

 You were so worried about him because you knew how self destructive Maxwell could become. You knew about his dependency on alcohol and his tendency to lash out and yell at people when you weren't there to call him down. If he was suffering at least half as much as you were, you felt extreme guilt. You hoped he hadn't gotten himself hurt. You weren't happy, but if you had some kind of closure— if you just knew that he was doing okay without you, then maybe you would feel better.

 And yet you couldn't bring yourself to go back home. You had Maxwell's driver bring over your toiletries and clothes and tipped him enough to not tell Maxwell which hotel you were staying at. You didn't know if it was really worth it. He was Maxwell's driver, and if Maxwell asked, you figured the driver would reveal your location anyway. Your mind was racing. What if he did ask? What if Maxwell knew where you were but didn't care enough to come see you. You didn't tell him to not come and find you…

 A sudden loud knock on your hotel room door interrupted your thoughts. You sat frozen in your bed and checked the wall clock. It was almost two in the morning. The knock came again, even harder this time and you clutched your bed sheets tight around you. You took a deep breath and shuffled out of bed, padding to the door. You scoped your hotel room for something blunt that could be used as a weapon if this post-midnight mystery stranger happened to be an intruder. Slowly, you opened the door.

 Your heart sunk when you saw him.

 Dark circles under his eyes, his dark blonde hair messy and sticking up in places. He was literally wearing one of his button down work shirts (the one you used to sleep in), and light grey sweatpants. He looked helpless, and it was like time had frozen. You felt your eyes begin to sting from the brimming tears and you could only bring yourself to whisper his name. "Max…"

 Maxwell took a step forward and pressed a heated kiss into your lips. It took you by surprise, but you soon sank into his chest. This was it. This was everything you had missed. His lips tasted like a mix of whiskey and spirits. His large, ring clad hands gripped your back and pressed you tight into his broad chest. He was finally holding you again, and kissing you— and you were letting him. He couldn't believe it. He pulled away for breath but didn't let go of you for one second. He nudged his nose against yours. "I am so sorry…" Maxwell whispered, a tear falling down his cheek. You cupped your hand around his face and wiped his tear away with your thumb before pressing your forehead against his. "I was so stupid, for everything. I shouldn't have let you go." His voice was sore and it broke your heart. He was taking full accountability and blaming himself.

 "No Max," you sniffed and shook your head. "No. I wasn't thinking straight. I was so mad." 

 "I gave you a reason to be mad." Maxwell soothed you, rubbing circles into your back.

 "No no no," You curled up into his chest again, holding him tight. "I acted irrationally. Please don't blame yourself." You begged him. "This was on me. You were right. You never gave me a reason not to trust you."

 "I was so foolish, planning to go and see Albert and Edward on our only night together." His words brought back a familiar pain and you broke down into a sobbing mess in Maxwell's arms. He continued to rub your back, feeling your tears dampen in his lazily buttoned shirt. He kissed your head gently, the familiar scent of your hair making his knees weak. "I'm really struggling," Maxwell gulped. "I don't think I can live without you. I need you. I need you and your good heart helping me decide between what's right and what's wrong. I need you scolding me for my bad manners and confronting me when I'm in the wrong…" you let out a small chuckle and his heart bloomed. "It's true!" he smiled for the first time into your hair. "You're the only one who can get away with telling me what to do. I miss the way you play with my hair," you dragged your hands up to his hair and Maxwell let out a muffled groan. "Missed your touch," he said, stiffening up as you let your hands roam down his body, touching every bit of skin he had visible. "Missed your kisses," you pressed another kiss against his lips and let your arms rest comfortably around his waist. "Missed you so fucking much."

 "Maaaax," you whimpered out his name as he placed sloppy kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

 "I don't think I can be alone anymore," he said in between kisses. "You don't have to forgive me. I wouldn't forgive me. But please come home with me. And I will spend every day for the rest of my life proving to you how much I love you. You first. You before Edward and Albert and Barbara, you before all work commitments." he promised and you hummed in contentment.

 "I would want nothing more." You told him and he smiled. "No more fights. I'm going to communicate better, I can do better. And Maxwell?"

 "Hm?" Maxwell's voice was soft like velvet.

 "I forgive you. And I never stopped loving you."

 Maxwell sighed and squeezed you tight. "I never want to let go of you." he admitted. "I never want to leave you ever again. Wherever I go, you're coming with me. This has been the worst couple of weeks."

 "You have looked better." you joked with a small smile. You grabbed him by his shirt collar and dragged him into your hotel room, before locking the door behind you.

 "You…" he smiled, his eyes sparkling. "You always look so beautiful." 

 "You're lying," you shook your head feeling your cheeks heat up at his smooth choice of words. "I haven't slept in days."

 Maxwell cupped your cheeks with both hands, taking in the features he had missed so dearly. "Me neither, but I'll sleep well tonight, I'm sure of it." He said and you grinned, playfully pushing him into the plush hotel bed. He yelped as you clambered on top of him and straddled him.

 "Fuck Max," you whimpered, softly rubbing your hips over his crotch.

 "Shit baby," he mewled, his hands dropping to your hips and grabbing your ass. His eyes were locked on to your body as you lounged on top of him. "Missed this." he admitted with a sheepish smile.

 "It's been so long," you said quietly, popping open the buttons on his shirt and helping him shuffle out of it. There was a real temptation to just curl into his warm naked chest and fall asleep in his arms but you needed more. It had been months without any kind of sexual gratification and now you finally had him. You had been yearning for so long. "Couldn't stop thinking about you," you admitted and Maxwell's heart fluttered in his chest. "Every night I… I could never sleep. So I'd lay here in this bed and just think about you. Think about you holding me… kissing me… touching me…"

 "Where?" He quizzed you, his voice low at the thought of you laying exactly where he was now lying, restless because you were imagining his touch.

 "Everywhere," you breathed shakily.

 "Show me."

 He steadied you as you removed your hands from his chest and pulled off your shirt. Maxwell gasped slightly when he saw you weren't wearing a bra and you began to touch yourself in front of him. You let your fingers grace over your arms, your stomach, and then brought them up to your breasts. You let your thumb graze over your nipples and cupped them, squeezing a few times as you closed your eyes at the blissful sensation. Maxwell watched you touch yourself intently and you began to feel him harden beneath you. Unable to hide the smirk playing on your lips, you continued to softly grind over his length, gaining a gentle moan from him. "Touch me." you begged him. He ran his big hand up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts and to your chest, twirling the crystal necklace he had gotten for you way back when you had your first date.

 "You never took the necklace off?" he asked, his chocolate brown eyes looking deep into yours.

 "Never," you told him and he returned your smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

 "Lean into me," his voice was rough but gentle. You obeyed him, slowly sinking forward into his body and he took one of your breasts in his mouth, sucking on your nipple and eliciting a moan from you. With his free hand, he opted to mirror your previous actions and squeezed your other breast. Your knees weakened everytime his teeth grazed your skin and you missed the way he would gently bite at you. All your senses were completely heightened and he felt amazing. You hummed in delight before leaning back, your breast leaving Maxwell's mouth with a pop.

 You climbed off him and took to your knees by his side when you began to palm his length through his grey sweatpants. "You're so cute," you giggled as you stroked him through the soft material.

 Maxwell turned his head slightly and furrowed his eyebrows together. "Cute?" he asked.

 "Mhm," you replied, dipping your hand into his sweats and pulling out his throbbing hard cock. You smiled to yourself— he wasn't wearing underwear either. You slowly began to pump at it and a delicious moan fell from his lips. "You come here in a work shirt and sweatpants," you conceded. "Not your best fashion decision. But I do love these sweats. I love to see you get hard in them, it's so hot. I can really see how big you are," you admired him and let your thumb sweep across the tip of his cock, collecting the precum that had beaded there. You brought your thumb to your mouth and began sucking on it, letting his warm, salty seed settle on your tongue.

 "F-fuck," Maxwell drawled out. "Keep talking like that. You're so- you're so fucking pretty, sucking on your thumb like that. Wish- wish you were suck-"

 "Be patient my love," you whispered, pressing a kiss into his v line and wrapping your hand around his cock once more, repeating the movements. You knew what he wanted, and you wanted it too. "We have all the time in the world."

 "Keep talking like that." he reminded you, watching as your hands graced his length. 

 "I'd lay here," your voice was barely above a whisper. "Just like you are. And I'd imagine you fucking me. Been too long. Missed- missed you so much. I missed your big hands and the way you'd caress me. I missed how good you were at going down on me… best- best I've ever had," you hummed in delight, feeling your cunt begin dampen your shorts. "Most of all, I missed this. I missed your big cock, and the way it fills me perfectly. Feels so amazing. While you were away on those fucking business trips… I’d…I’d..." you took a deep breath.

 "What?" Maxwell prompted you to continue. 

 You took one hand and began to cradle his balls as you kept rubbing up and down the length. "I'd finger myself, rub myself, do everything I could just thinking about you. Usually I-," you exhaled shakily before shooting him an innocent smile. "I'd have to use a dildo because my fingers can't ever compare to your cock. Nothing can, Max." You promised him and he emitted an earthy groan. "Your turn." you smiled at him before licking his tip.

 "Fuuuck. That- that feels so good," Maxwell gritted out, throwing his head back into the pillow. You opened your mouth slightly and started by taking the tip in your mouth, sucking softly. "More, please,"

 "Keep talking." You quoted him cheekily before reattaching your mouth to his hard cock.

 "I took those Polaroids with me," Maxwell admitted bashfully. "The- the ones you took for me on Valentine's day. You wore that lacy red lingerie set I got you and fuck, you looked so stunning that night. Found it so hard to sleep without you by my side so I'd get out the photos and jerk off to them. I- I could never really last long looking at you, you're just so fucking pretty," Maxwell praised and you hollowed your cheeks, sinking your mouth further down on him. "I'd dream about this. Baby, you know how much I love getting blown," You felt his cock twitch in your mouth just as he said that and you tried to suppress a giggle. "Dreamt about this. Your mouth on me. I- I'd cum in your mouth."

 You lifted off him with a pop. "Cum in my mouth then," you urged with a sheepish grin and continued sucking on him, bobbing your head up and down.

 "N-no." Maxwell said, lowering his hands to tug off your head. "Fuck, no. Baby. I have to fuck you." You almost came from his words alone and you could feel the electricity spark in your stomach as excitement filled your core. "I have to feel you. Feel you around me. You always- you always feel like home."

 Your heart blossomed at his words. "Can I ride you?" you asked him, popping off him again. He grabbed your chin and forced you to look into his eyes. They were so dark with lust, you could've mistaked the usual honeyed shade for black.

 "No. I want to fuck you." he growled in your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

 He kicked off his sweats that were pooled around his ankles and you pulled down your silk shorts, discarding them on the floor with the rest of his and your clothes. "Please please please can I ride you." you whimpered, letting your hand fall down to your cunt and you started rubbing your clit as you drunk in the image of Maxwell spread out on the hotel bed, his cock hard and pressed against his stomach.

 "No." he reprimanded you as he got to his knees. He pushed you down onto the bed and you lay there on your tummy, your butt perked in the air.

 "Maaaax," you drew out his name, waiting for him to do something. Max was stroking his length and this time it was his turn to get a good look of your naked body that he had missed so much.

 "Patience." he scolded, giving your ass a spank. You let out a yelp as the coolness of his rings slapped against your warm skin. That was sure to leave a bruise.

 "Fuckkk Max, I need you inside me now," You begged and started to rub yourself against the blankets on the bed, desperate for some kind of friction to ease the overwhelming sensation you were feeling.

 He spanked you again and you let out another yelp. "You will be patient," he warned again. "Are you a good girl?"

 "Yes Max," you sung, sweetness dripping from your tongue.

 "Good girls don't talk back. Now get on all fours." You listened to his instruction, scrambling to your knees and resting on your elbows. "Spread your legs. I want to look at you." You obeyed him, knowing that if you dared to speak up again he'd issue another spanking.

 Maxwell stroked himself while drinking in the sight of you. Your folds glistened under the light and Maxwell couldn't rid himself of the pride he was feeling. "All for me?" He mumbled, and aligned his cock against your entrance. You tossed your head back at the feeling of his tip nudging against you.

 "All for you." you confirmed in a whisper. Maxwell wrapped his arms underneath you and started fondling with your breasts before suddenly, and in one swift movement, thrusting inside of you.

 Your breathing hitched at the sensation of his long thick cock stretching your walls. "Oh shit Max," you moaned in pleasure. "Shit shit shit," you panted as he kept thrusting deep inside you with consistent movements. Tears pricked your eyes as he hit your g-spot with every thrust, not hilting once. He knew exactly how to make you feel good. You begged for him to go harder and he brought his hands up to your head, grabbing your hair and roughly pulling your back into his chest. You let your head fall into his shoulder as he continued fucking you, his arms holding you tight around your stomach.

 You loved hearing the noises Max made. There was something so satisfying about listening to the CEO of one of the biggest and reputable companies in the whole world, fall apart because of you. Because of your body. "Are you- fuck, you're close aren't you? I can feel it." Maxwell groaned and you whimpered back in agreement, letting your head lilt into the crook of his neck. "Baby girl, fuck you feel so good. So tight around me. Fuck."

 "G-gonna cum," you gasped, trying to catch your breath.

 "Me- me too," Maxwell replied through gritted teeth. "Can I, can I cum inside of you?"

 "Fuck Max, you don't need to ask. Please. Please fill me up." You begged.

 With only a few more thrusts, Maxwell came inside you, filling you with warmth and leaving you shuddering as you came down from your own climax. He stayed there for a moment, holding still inside you, wanting to make sure every last drop resided deep within you before he softened and slipped out of you. You moaned at the loss of his length. He turned you over on the bed and positioned his face in between your legs.

 "What are you- what are you doing?" you asked him. Before you could say anything else, you felt him bury his thick index finger inside of you. "Fuck," you gasped. "Maaaaaax."

 Max was watching your pussy intently, and as his cum began to drip out of you, he pushed it back in. "You're so perfect," Max said in admiration, still staring at your glistening wet folds. "You know that?"

 "I can't wait to go home with you." you sighed as relief and contentment washed over you for the first time in forever.

 "Can't wait to start a new life with you," Maxwell smiled and your mind buzzed with confusion. "You're all I need. This. This right here is what I need. My- my job has given me enough wealth to live more than comfortably for the rest of my life. I know that, no matter what, I will be able to provide for you. And for our children, and grandchildren, and great grandchildren…" Maxwell trailed off and you couldn't wipe the elated smile from your face.

 "Children?" you asked him, eyes lighting up.

 "Look at you," he grinned, a dimple appearing in his cheek. He pressed a soft, sweet kiss to the inside of your thigh. "I think you'd be the greatest mother in the world. You take care of me well enough, that's for sure. So kind. So gentle. Such a good heart. You make me into a better person. Our kids would be so lucky to have a mother like you. I want a family."

 You sniffed, sitting up and shuffling toward him. "Oh Max, I love you so much." you gave him a teary smile before falling into his chest and curling up on top of him.

 "I love you too, darling."

[alternateafterthought]

Arcane - Part 11

Ø  Meaning: Secret, Mysterious, Understood only by few. MAGIC

Ø  Pairing: Panther Hybrid Min Yoongi x Reader

Ø  Summary: Some secrets are kept for the good of people. Some secrets are kept for abuse or power. Yoongi had been a victim of abuse and power, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else use secrets for that purpose. So, when Y/N comes into his life with secrets, he doesn’t want to fall into that rabbit hole again. He doesn’t want to give all his trust to someone who will abuse their power over him. But maybe Y/N’s secrets are a good thing.

Ø  Genre: Hybrid!au, fluff, angst, eventual smut

Ø  Warnings: I know in the last part I warned that it was more intense this part but I somehow left that out and wrote it in a way that it isn’t bad, Of course dealing with this subject there is a small trigger warning... What the character did is not right, and no one should ever have to be put through something like this!! Stay safe out there!

Ø  Word Count: 1625

Ø  A/N: Hey guys… here is the next part of my Min Yoongi fic!! I am back with another part of Arcane!! It has been so long since I posted anything or written anything so I really hope you all like this part and understand that sometimes I just don’t have inspiration to keep writing!! So, I really hope you guys love and support this fic like you did with GOLDEN TIME!! If you want to be added to a tag list, message me or leave a comment or ask!! I would love and appreciate your feedback!! Thank you so much

PREV / NEXT

Y/N couldn’t concentrate.

She wouldn’t lie to anyone and say that she was interested in the paperwork in front of her. In actuality, she couldn’t tell anyone who asked what it was she was supposed to be concentrating on. Her mind was completely preoccupied with the events of her tragic and questionable weekend.

Monday mornings were always hard, coming off a good weekend. Try a Monday morning coming off a horrible weekend. It was currently 11:02 on Thursday after the horrible weekend and no amount of coffee, even the 8 cups Y/N had been through since 5am when she woke up, or distractions would take her mind off of her Hybrid at home.

Said hybrid had been hiding, completely avoiding the outside world, more importantly avoiding Y/N, for days now. Saturday, Sunday, Monday, all the way until today being Thursday and Yoongi still hadn’t come out of hiding.

Every morning Y/N would knock three times on Yoongi’s door, letting him know she was there. She’d leave him a tray of food outside his door before leaving for work, texting him routinely through the day at 11am, 1pm, 4pm just before she would return home to what was pretty much an empty house. It was always so cold, all the lights were always off, no heat, no Yoongi at the door to greet her home.

Every afternoon Y/N would hang her coat and bag, walk to the hall, and see that the tray off food she’d left in the morning had been completely untouched. It was concerning, Y/N didn’t know if Yoongi was eating or not, and from the looks of the cold, untouched food, it didn’t look like he was.

After taking the food back to the kitchen and throwing it out, Y/N would start to fix dinner for the both of them. Leaving a tray at Yoongi’s door before going back and sitting by herself at the table, hoping that maybe Yoongi would join her.

He never did.

And she could blame no one except herself.

Y/N was supposed to help him, protect him. She had promised that no harm would ever come to him. And yet, she was the reason that he completely hid from her, from the world.

She could see it as if it were happening in the moment. Pushing open the door, seeing Yoongi laying on the bed, arms up, eyes wide, begging for help. She could see Hye-Jin looking annoyed as Y/N stood in the door, straddling Yoongi’s waist.

Y/N would never forget the panic that flashed through Yoongi’s eyes, even as Y/N acted. Y/N didn’t waste any time in pulling Hye-Jin off of Yoongi, not saying anything as she threw the girl out of her house, slamming the door in her surprised face as she raced back to Yoongi’s room. She wanted to check on him, make sure he was okay, reach out to him.

But when she finally got back to his door, it was shut, closed off from the world.

Y/N was pulled out of her constant worrying by the ringing of her phone. Shaking her head, she looked at the caller ID, not recognizing the number.

“Hello?” Y/N spoke into her phone, thanking the fact that her office door was closed.

“Hello? Miss Y/N?” A familiar voice asked, though Y/N couldn’t place it.

“This is her? May I ask who this is?”

“Miss Y/N, it’s Jung Hoseok, from HOPE Sanctuary.” The voice cheerfully answered.

“Oh, J-Hope, right?” Y/N smiled widely at the memory of the man who helped her to adopt the hybrid currently hiding from her

“Yes. How are you? How’s Yoongi?”

The question was a dangerous one. How could Y/N explain to the man that had entrusted one of his friends to her, that she had completely and totally fucked up? She didn’t like the thought of lying to him, didn’t like the position she was already in, but how could she tell him what had happened? How could she tell him she was probably the worst thing that could happen to Yoongi?

“Y/N? Are you still there?” J-Hope asked.

“Oh yes, I’m still here.” Y/N forced a laughed. “Sorry just a lot on my mind with work. But I’m good, Yoongi is good.”

“Well that’s good to hear.”

Y/N could hear movement in the back of the phone call, J-hope wasn’t alone, and she could guess just how many were there. 5 hybrids missing their panther and a human who was so much better equip to this job then she was.

“Hyung, ask her…” Y/N heard a small, muffled voice.

“It would seem I have some impatient hybrids with me.” J-Hope’s cheerful voice came through with a laugh. “But they were wondering if that offer still stood? If they were able to come and visit their Yoongi Hyung?”

“Hey, I’m his Hyung!” Y/N heard a protest coming from behind J-Hope.

“Of course, you can.” Y/N heard herself saying without missing a beat. “I’m sure Yoongi would love a visit from you all.”

“Really?” Someone else spoke, seeming to have taken the phone off J-Hope. “We can come visit?”

“Of course, you can visit.” Y/N really just couldn’t stop herself, anything that will ease Yoongi would be welcomed. “I know Yoongi has been thinking about you guys. I was actually going to offer Yoongi if he would like a trip back to the city to see you all.”

“Oh perfect. It seems I have good timing.” J-Hope’s voice was a little distant from the phone, meaning the phone was on speaker now. “When would be the best time for us to come down?”

“You can come down any time you’re ready to.” Y/N moved around some paperwork, looking for her journal.

“We could fly in tomorrow afternoon?” J-Hope proposed, she could feel the nerves of them all.

“Perfect.” Y/N wrote a little note into her journal, noting they would be here. “I’ll clear out the other rooms for you all tonight. Will you be coming with them J-hope?”

“If it’s not too much trouble? I would like to be with them?”

“Of course.” Y/N hoped she could talk to Yoongi tonight. “I’ll make sure to have lots of food ready for you all. I know Yoongi will be happy.”

A cheer rang through the phone, letting Y/N know they were excited for the chance of a trip. She would just hope that Yoongi would be excited to see his brothers after nearly 2 months.

“We should let you get back to work now Y/N.” J-Hope seemed to have finally taken the phone back, placing it to his ear. “I’ll text you the details of a flight, so you know when to expect us.”

“Sounds good.” Y/N smiled, nodding. “I’ll see you all soon.”

“See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

Finally hanging up, Y/N let out a deep sigh, her head in her hands on the desk in front of her. She didn’t know what to do, she had a problem to solve at home with Yoongi and now his brothers were coming to see him. Finally sitting back up she pushed her hair out of her face, picking up her phone and ringing the familiar number, only for it to ring out.

Said hybrid sat in his room, staring at his phone as Y/N’s name lit up the screen in his pitch-black darkness. It’s not like the darkness actually affected him anyway, but still it was dark. Dark enough that he knew if Y/N was home and had walked through his door, like the many times he’s hoped she would in the past week, she’d have tripped.  

Yoongi would never straight up admit it, but he seriously missed Y/N. He knew it was his own doing, hiding himself away from her after what someone else did. But he couldn’t help but feel betrayed that she had let someone like that into his territory.

She had to know. Yoongi couldn’t help but think that Y/N had to know that he wanted to do nothing but protect his territory, and that meant her as well. He just wanted to protect the woman who gave him a change, but she was the one bringing dangers into his territory.

He couldn’t exactly forget it, what that girl felt like pressed against him. Yoongi could never really forget the pure look of lust in her eyes as he tried to get away from her. She had stalk him as if he were the prey and she were the predator, she had used his past against him, and it had won.

He would truly never be able to forgive himself for falling, failing to stop himself from feeling sorry for himself. He already knew that hiding and curling in on himself was wrong, and yet here he was, lying in the dark, staring at a black screen, hoping, praying for Y/N to reach out to him.

They were truly words that would haunt him, words that were whispered into his ear. Words that he had buried deep within his mind and now…

“Your just a pet… this is what your made for.”

“She’ll never please you the way I will.”

“Come on, this is what we got you for.”

“She’ll never love you.”

Again, and again. It was like a broken record playing for his downfall.

Hye-Jin’s words weren’t the first to tell him that, they were a constant in the last few homes he had been in. He just never thought they’d be words he heard while here with Y/N.

Now he just stared at the screen as it lit up again with Y/N’s name. He couldn’t bring himself to answer it, couldn’t bring himself to hear the broken words leave her mouth as he tried to call for him.

PREV / NEXT

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[odissey061]

Parenting with(out) you [pt. 2]

I didn’t specify very well in the last chapter, but the reader was a member in an organization similar to the Haunting Dogs (for the ones who read the manga), but with the difference that this organization was subdued to a politician, so their missions could also be like kill x person. She is a skilled killer and a very good fighter you have no idea about how many scenarios played in my mind with a Mafia!Dazai x Killer!reader. Dark couple power, guys--.

It’s also implied that the reader and Chuuya were friends when Dazai worked with the Mafia and when she escaped from her boss, Chuuya offered her a shelter (the first time Chuuya appears in the anime, he said he just arrived in Japan after spending some time in the east)

[Mild smut]

The gif has not plot purpose: I juast wanted admired once again this hottie in a white suit

 Your first encounter with Keiko… didn’t go very well: you teared up as soon as you saw her, but she hid behind her father’s leg, refusing to see you. Of course, Dazai told her that there was the possibility she could see you for the first time, but it was like three month ago and in the meanwhile the kid started to believe she was not going to meet you. For the first month, she saw you as a woman who wanted take away from her the only parent left. She only changed her behavior with you when Dazai scolded her harshly, because she said she hated you and she didn’t want to see you again. That was the first and the last time Dazai slapped her.

 Hearing those words, you started to cry too: you know it wouldn't be easy to make Keiko accept you in her life, but still… From another room, you listened to Dazai saying “I know is difficult for you; but she is your mother. I already told you that she didn’t leave us because she wanted, but because she was forced” and also “I just want the two women of my life to love each other, can you do this for daddy? ”.

 Then she came into yours and Dazai’s room and she sat on the bed, close to you. Keiko gazed at you for a long time, then she spoke:”You have the same hair as me and also your face is similar to mine. Daddy says that we can both understand him the most and that my character is really similar to yours when you meet for the first time. Are you really my mommy? You are not trying to take away my dad away from me, right?”. “No, of course not. I love you so much, Keiko. I’m sorry for disappearing, but I didn’t want to put yours and Osamu’s life in danger. I’m so, so sorry, Keiko”.

 Then you showed her your wallet: there was a folded photo of your daughter with Dazai. Only then Keiko understood you really were his mother and you were with her. She hugged you, crying, and begged you to don’t leave her again. “I will do everything in order to have your pardon” you said and with that words you firmed your own end. But we are going to see this later.

When you started to work at the ADA, you requested to be Yosano’s partner, due to your ability: you could force someone else to do what you wanted, but you had to hurt yourself and the more lethal the wound, more control you had. You and her became friends really fast since you were the woman more close to her age. Sometimes you helped her in her laboratory and other times you carried on a case alone.

You two often spent time together out of work and you accompanied her to go shopping under the other members of the Agency’s blessing, of course, but you refused whenever she proposed to you to drink together, saying that somebody was waiting for you at home  and she teased you about your lover. Well, she wasn’t completely wrong, but you were talking about your daughter. (Neither you or Dazai told your coworkers you were in a relationship and you also had a child).

At work, nobody knew that you two were engaged: the smarter ones understood that you and Dazai weren’t completely strangers, since you entered at work and left it at the same hours, really often you spent your breaks together etcc…; but they couldn’t imagine you were actually engaged (and you were parents!)

Let’s answer one of your questions: how did Dazai behave with you at work? Apparently, he treated you just like a colleague, but he subtly showed only to you how he cared for you. Dazai’s love language at work was impossible to notice until you knew him: every morning he left a cup of your favorite drink on the lab’s table, he was always slacking off or ignoring his work free when you had breaks and he spent them with you and he always searched for your eyes and smiled at you when you were in the same room (when you were in the lab, he often gazed at thee closed door. Kunikida seemed to have a super effective radar for when Dazai was distracted about you: every time he hit his head with the pile of documents he ignored). And he also loved caressing your hand when he passed by the spot where you were, or when you casually brushing his hair please, ask me to write something about this point T-T. His gestures were discrete and small, but they were there. you still preferred them to that time he made love to you in his study when he still worked for the Port Mafia cough cough.

You preferred to maintain a professional facade at work, but sometimes, at the first occasion nobody was looking, he took you in an unused room at the floor to spend some time with you alone ;). You two usually kissed for a long time, even if you seldom indulged in more carnal acts. You protested everytime, but Osamu insisted with his usual dramatic act that it was impossible to resist when you were so cute in that outfit. He also used the excuse that at home you had no privacy since Keiko was glued to your side, even when it was time to sleep much to Dazai’s mild annoyance since he couldn't do anything with you because Keiko slept between you and your boyfriend in your bed.

Speaking about your relationship, Yosano was the first who suspected that you and Dazai were engaged. In the Agency’s bar there was the rumor, between the maids, that Dazai had found a s/o, since every morning he bought for them a cup of their favorite drink. A day, you, Osamu and your respective partners went there to have a meal and a maid was thanking this Dazai’s s/o for existing, because thanks to them nor her of her colleague were harrassed by the question of committing a double suicide together. With a mild anger in your voice, you asked her to be more specific and for every word spilled by the maid, Dazai’s face became paler. needless to say, that night he slept in Keiko’s bed, as your daughter was with you. Yosano connected the dots and she understood you were something more than colleagues, but she kept your secret.        

 But how did the Agency find out you had a daughter? That’s a fun story. Remember when I said that the quote “I’ll do anything for you” doomed your downfall? Well, the little rascal (your kid) took this really seriously. This wicked brat listened to you talking with your boyfriend about you abandoning her and she exploited that to steal your attention: were you talking with Dazai on the sofa? She sat between the two of you, saying that she wanted to play with you. Were you working at home? She cried so much loudly that you gave up what you had to do and the list went on. It took a while to Dazai to realize that his daughter was stealing you away. You were fooled by Keiko’s angelic face, but Dazai knew this little devil too much well to be tricked. (He was one fours surprised for the cleverness she showed and three fours annoyed by it. Dazai, what did you expect from your own daughter XD).  Having said that, a day Keiko feigned to be sick in order to spend more time with you, but you had to work and the babysitter wasn’t available, so you thought bringing her to work was a good idea (spoiler: it wasn't).

 The first ones to see you with Keiko were Atsushi, Kyoka and Kunikida. A few seconds later came Kenji and the Tanizaki’s siblings. They all were fooled charmed by your daughter and they started to play with her, complimenting how cute she was. Then Naomi said:”Somehow, she looks familiar” and, after staring at her for a while, they all agreed, trying to understand who the father was. Kunikida shivered for a second noticing how similar she was to Dazai, but he couldn't imagine Dazai having a lover, let alone being a father. You heard a crash behind you and when you turned you saw a very much shocked Yosano who held in her hand a cup handle and Rampo with the open mouth as he was eating a candy. Your partner knew your relationship with Dazai, but discovering he was also a father shocked her too much, Rampo probably understood everything when he saw Keiko.

 Atsushi wondered:”But who is the father? Does he work here too?”. The poor, naive Atsushi, didn’t have the slightest idea and you couldn't even have the time to answer, that Keiko jumped off Kenji’s lap, screaming:”Daddy!!”. All the members turned to see Keiko clinging to Dazai’s leg. Kunikida’s lenses audibly cracked, some of them felt the urge to sit and Yosano had to assist a couple of faintings. Some seconds passed in the utter silence as they tried to metabolize the shock, then they started to assault you and Dazai with questions.      

 The sight of Dazai lifting up his daughter was a sight to behold and eventually they accepted the fact that Dazai is a father. the image of Dazai giving a esquimo kiss to his daughter, holding her in his arms, has me melting on the floor. “How old is she?” Naomi asked and you answered:”She’s four years old”. She thought about it for some seconds:”But if she’s four that means that you and Dazai met when he worked with the Port Mafia, isn’t it?” and luckily Yosano was quick:”There are some things that are private in a couple. Now let’s work that we already lost enough time”. She saved you before the questions became too personal.

 Dazai and Kunikida left the office for a mission and you went in the lab with Yosano, telling Keiko to don’t come in, since the room was full of lethal weapons. Feeling abandoned, she cried as loudly as she could, thinking that you’d rushed over she used the same technique at home when you are with your boyfriend. It worked every time. But you didn’t. Rampo decided to take care of her: he shared his candies with her and he asked her to help him to resolve his cases. Keiko quite enjoyed staying with him.

 After a couple of hours, when Dazai came back to the office, all of your colleagues kicked you three out, begging you to take a stroll with your child. Above all the experience was traumatic and the shock too huge for them, but what surprised them was that even someone like Dazai could have a family and be a good father. It’s murmured that that day, when Kunikida went at home, he declared:”After four years of being Dazai’s partner, I asked to the Grim Reaper to take me, but he said “no, you have to suffer a bit more” and he placed Dazai’s daughter on my path”.

You also wondered how Chuuya would react to a mini Dazai? you sadists. You, Keiko and Osamu were in a luna park to spend some quality time together as a family. Both yours and Dazai’s guard was very high, considering your past works, especially when Keiko was with you. Recently, you heard news about a child kidnapper, so you were even more anxious, but Osamu reassured you: nobody was so stupid to kidnap the daughter of an ex Port Mafia director and of an ex agent. Right? No

All happened in a second. The park was really crowded and in a second you were holding Keiko’s hand and in the next one she was no longer by your side. Surprisingly, Dazai was the most scared one: he told you before that the reason he stopped to think about suicide was Keiko, so he was really attached to his daugher (more than a normal parent). But the moment of fright and bewilderment was really brief and in the next second, both you and Dazai analyzed the situation with utmost rationality. You watched in Dazai’s eyes and you shivered: they were ruthless, without a shred of magnanimity, just like whe he woked under Mori's command

But the kidnapper was doubly unlucky: he kidnapped not only Keiko, but also Elise-chan. When Mori knew that she was kidnapped, he sent Chuuya to retrieve her. His orders were: make sure that guy regretted turning against the Mafia (you know, usual Mori stuff).

He found the kidnapper hideout and he killed him without any problems, but the troubles for him had just started. As soon as the man was dead, ten kids or more ran away from that place (Chu Chu instructed them to go to the nearest police station), but a brunette kid stayed there.

Keiko, to put it simply, fell in love with him as soon as she saw him using his ability. Osamu didn’t mention at all he was a mafioso (he wanted to show to her daughter only his best sides), but he talked about his ex partner. She clinged to Chuuya’s leg with adoranting eyes. Chu Chu was a bit creeped out: why was that child not scared? She was kidnapped, for the God’s sake

Chuuya tried to push her off, but he miserably failed. He gazed more carefully at Keiko and with dread, he admitted that she somehow reminded him of his ex partner, but that was only a coincidence, right? Elise asked her:”Why weren’t you scared?” and Keiko answered:”Because I know that mommy and daddy will come soon”. Then she looked at Chuuya, trying to remember how her father called him and she said:”Chibi-chan?”.

And the cruelty of reality hit Chuuya like a thunder: not only that wasting bandage garbage was still alive, but he also reproduced! He wanted to die, no, better: he wanted to kill Dazai once for all. But the final stroke arrived with the next question:”Do you want to marry me? Daddy told me to ask this question to a very special person”. Being proposed by Dazai’s daughter… in what other wicked ways his ex partner did try to send him to the Creator?! That was even more successful that putting a bomb in his car

Luckily, you and your boyfriend arrived at that moment. At the sight of his daughter clinging to the person he hated the most, Dazai almost had a stroke (to Chuuya’s happiness). As soon as Keiko saw you two, she runned in your direction (Chuuya was two times happier).

“You bastard, what did you say to her abou-” he started to yell at Dazai’s direction, but you interrupted him:”Thank you Chuuya for saving our daughter”. And you hardly hit Dazai's stomach with your elbow, so that he thanked Chuuya too.

In Chuuya’s mind something activated and he came to the general comprehension of what happened four years ago and why you met him some time later; but he didn’t say anything about it. He changed the topic:”You are the only woman in the world that can handle him, so be sure to be by his side”. That sounded almost like a blessing, but you didn’t dare to say it. “It’s what I intend to do”.

And walked in different directions, then Keiko yelled:”The next time we see again, tell me your answer” and you were almost sure to hear Chuuya trip to the ground. “What question have you asked?” you wondered half curious and half amused and she smiled dreamly:”If he wanted to marry me”. This time was Dazai’s turn to stumble on his steps. You laughed so hard that you stomach hurt, but you couldn’t stop, Osamu glared at you with a look of betrayal.

For the whole walk to your home, Dazai kept telling her how Chuuya was a bad person, but Keiko retorted that someone as beautiful as Chuuya couldn’t be a bad person. For a second Dazai glared at her with a sad smile, wondering if she would have told the same thing after he confessed to her all of his crimes. Knowing his thoughts, you tightened the grip of your hand on his, smiling:”For Keiko, you are the best person in the world, no matter what you did in the past”, then you added with a cheeky smile:”even better than Chuuya, I bet”.

 After tucking Keiko in her bed, you and your boyfriend retired in your bedroom. Dazai whined:”My daughter, my sweet, beloved and innocent daughter… How could she propose to another man? Especially him. She broke my heart: until yesterday she wanted to marry me. What did that slug do to her?”. You chuckled:”Are you sure it’s his fault? When we arrived it seemed like Chuuya was shocked too. I admit too that he’s beautiful”.

 At those words, Dazai’s body froze, but you didn’t notice it, too focused on changing yourself for the night. “You and him seem to be well acquainted” his voice was somehow restrained and it was just your impression, or Dazai was jealous? “Not really. When you were in the Port Mafia we met only twice, but after my escape, he saved me. I had a high fever, no place to stay and I didn’t eat in the last days. I was probably on the verge of death. He took me in his home and he helped me to get better”.

 In your stream of words, you didn’t notice that Dazai’s mood changed. In the Port Mafia he was possessive and he get jealous really often, but at least he vocalized it in his words or by action; but this Dazai was different: since once you got together, he never showed any sign of uneasiness, probably because now he knew that there was no possibility that you could fall for someone else. But Chuuya was the exception and knowing that he was by your side when you rejected his help, fueled his insecurity. And in the next second, you were under him, his hands already on your pajamas.

Notes: if you are curious about certain aspects in this AU, you can always ask me

 You lost your occasion to say:”Nothing that you imagine happened, really”, because his lips were already on yours, kissing you until you didn’t have any more oxygen in the lungs. That night, Osamu kept asking who you loved not really for reminding you but for himself. He made love to you all night along, coaxing an orgasm after another one from your body, hungry for your love. You were quite sure that the both of you have been quite vocal and you hoped to don’t wake up Keiko. After he washed you, you took his face in your hands, saying only two words, a single question, Osamu gazed surprised at you for a while, then he smiled, answering your question with three letters: yes.

[jingabitch]

A Deal with the Devil

SUMMARY: You’re not sure whether the demon in front of you is real or a hallucination, but you don’t really care.

RATING: Explicit

PAIRINGS: Hoseok x reader

WARNINGS: smut | loss of virginity | demon!hobi | kinda dark stuff | talk about death and execution | potentially offensive religious references

WORD COUNT: 6.6k

A/N: For the demon!au prompt for the BTS Ghostie bingo challenge.

Thank you to the lovely betas who looked over this @lunarlxve and @sungiesangel, and to @jkeuphoriadreamland for listening to me whine about the backstory!! 

This room – damp, smelling like mold, cold. It was all you knew. All you’d ever known. Tomorrow would be your first and last time leaving, to be publicly executed in front of the entire city.

The unfairness made you want to scream. Instead, you sat by the window and sobbed. You didn’t understand; you’d never understood. The people who’d come to give you food and water had just said that you were here for the protection of yourself and the kingdom, but you didn’t understand why it had to be you who got locked up and then butchered like an animal.

The sound of the heavy door scraping against the ground as it opened made you turn around hopefully. For what though, you didn’t know. Maybe for the father, you’d always been told you needed to be here to save, to take his turn saving you?

“Oh, it’s just you,” you said dismissively to the new entrant, turning back to rest your chin on the windowsill. You weren’t exactly in the mood for company today.

Hoseok tsked at you. “That’s no way to greet someone.”

You didn’t bother to respond. Surely you could be forgiven for your lack of manners on the eve of your death. Besides, it was just Hobi. He was your best (and only) friend, and you were sure he would understand, given the circumstances. You didn’t quite know where he came from, but he’d been around since you were a child, probably just a couple of years older than you.

Hearing you sniffle miserably, he drew closer cautiously. “Hey,” he said tentatively. “You okay?”

“What do you think, Hobi?” you snapped.

“Someone’s in a mood,” he said lightly.

“Well, someone is going to be burned at the stake tomorrow, so unless you have something that can help, save it,” you snarled.

“It seems like today is your lucky day, then,” he almost sang.

“What are you talking ab—” you started, turning to face him, before screaming at the sight you saw in front of you. In the time that you had looked away from him, he’d somehow sprouted horns and wings. Massive, black leathery wings now bracketed his body, taking up almost all the space in the small room.

Your eyes, panicked, shot up to his, discovering that his warm brown eyes had changed. He now gazed back at you with eyes a deep emerald green, with black slit pupils. Panicked, you fell onto your knees sobbing, not even feeling the pain of the impact reverberating through the joints.

“Please,” you begged. “Please, spare my soul, demon.” Your hands were clasped in front of you as tears slid down your face.

“Y/n, please stop screaming.” Hoseok – or the demon wearing Hoseok’s face – held his hands out placatingly, coming towards you. He was speaking to you the way one might an injured animal, but far from being soothed, the sight of the demon coming towards you terrified you further, and you scrabbled backward until your back hit the wall, cowering away from him.

Realizing that this wasn’t working, Hoseok folded his wings behind him and got on his knees to be on your level. “Y/n, please, please stop. I’m not going to hurt you.”

You’d stopped screaming, but you were still terrified, pressing your shoulders back into the wall so hard that you could feel the indents of the rough stone wall almost cutting into your skin. Still, Hoseok recognized this as progress.

“I’m just Hobi, okay?” he said, using your childish nickname for him. You’d given it to him the first time you met him when you were five, and he was (you’d thought) seven because you couldn’t pronounce his name properly, and it had stuck.

“Who—” you paused to swallow hard, then tried again. “What are you?” Your voice trembled, as did your hands, fisted in your skirt.

He grinned. “Can’t you tell?” he asked, opening his wings slightly with a flourish. Startled, you jerked back and hit your head on the wall. Realising that this wasn’t really the time for jokes, he folded them back against his back contritely. “Sorry,” he apologized, shuffling closer on his knees. “Are you okay?” He reached for you, wanting to cradle the back of your head and check that you were okay, but your eyes flared in terror at his outstretched hands, and he dropped them by his side.

“Okay,” he said, sitting on the ground cross-legged. “I’ll just stay here, okay? Will you please listen to me now?”

Pressing your lips together, you managed the tiniest of nods.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he started. “In fact, it’s the opposite. I want to save you from the stake.”

“But—why? And how?” You were losing your mind, you were sure of it. “And, are you really Hobi?”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

You blinked. “But Hobi was a little boy when I met him.” That tiny detail was the only thing your frazzled mind could hold on to.

“I came to you as a child and manipulated my appearance, so it looked like we were growing up together.” He shrugged.

“Oh, right, just like that,” you said in a mocking tone, laughing sarcastically.

Instead of answering you, he transformed in front of you, a puff of smoke dissipating into the air to reveal the boy you remembered from your childhood. “Do you believe me now?” he asked in a high-pitched, childlike voice, blinking up at you.

“Why are you telling me all this now?” you asked faintly.

“I told you, Y/n-ie. To save you.” He transformed back into his original appearance and shook his wings out.

You pulled a skeptical face. “Why does a demon care what happens to me?” You’d never left this room, but one of the few books you had access to was the Bible, and you knew that demons were evil, manipulative creatures.

“Y/n, come on. I’ve been your friend all your life. Is it so difficult to believe that I want to help you?”

“Well, I don’t even know why you were hanging around me all this time, so yes,” you said, folding your arms across your chest.

Hoseok huffed. Where had you gotten all this attitude? You’d been stuck here all your life. You truly were your father’s daughter. “Fine. If I explain everything, will you let me help you?”

Standing, you brushed the dirt off your clothes. “Fine,” you sniffed, walking past him to the one chair you had in the sparsely decorated room. “But only because it’s not like I have anywhere to be.”

Even in the face of everything going on in your life, you found it in you to sass him. He wanted to kiss you as much as he wanted to slap you silly, and thankfully, if everything went according to plan, he’d get to do both. Standing, he turned to face you, perched on your chair with your back straight and chin up. He could see the princess in you, and imagine you seated on an ornate throne, dressed in the most lavish of gowns rather than the slightly frayed linens you wore now.

In another life, that would be your fate. But in this one, you were his. He knew he had you in his grasp, he had spent a lifetime (well, your lifetime) getting to know you. You were backed into a corner now, and as much as you tried to pretend, he knew you had nothing.

“I was sent to you,” he started.

The laughter bubbled out of your chest. “Wow, my guardian demon!” you mocked.

“If you’ll let me finish,” he gritted, annoyed. He knew you were hiding your fear behind bravado, but it was still irritating as hell. He heard your father had been the same way, though, laughing in the face of the enemy who had vanquished him, telling him he would never amount to anything, that he would damn the kingdom. He’d turned out to be right, but still.

You subsided, sulking. The Hoseok you knew had always been so jovial, constantly smiling, and laughing. This demon standing in front of you could not be more different.

“God and Lucifer had a bet,” he explained, “over whether or not the humans would put you to death. God thought that people would be good and kind, not treat people as a means to an end, all that good stuff. Lucifer… has a very different take on humanity,” he said dryly. “I was sent to make sure you were delivered to your execution.”

“And yet you are offering to save me from the clutches of death?” In your distress, your tone turned snippy, reverting back to the formal language that you so rarely had the need for, cloaking yourself in your royal lineage.

“Yes, my lady.” Two could play at this game. He would indulge you for as long as you wanted.

“You would disobey your master? Why?”

He stepped closer, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at him. "I have acquired a certain fondness for you over the past fifteen years, my lady.”

“Is that so?” you murmured.

“Of course, my lady. How could I not, after watching you blossom into such a beautiful woman?” His rakish grin as he ran his hand through his hair would be your downfall, you just knew it.

Instead of answering, however, you redirected the conversation, although the colour that appeared high on your cheeks showed your discomfiture. “And what will happen if I am not at tomorrow’s execution?”

“Lucifer will lose,” Hoseok replied simply.

Your sharp gaze let him know that you were not amused by his non-answer. “The kingdom will be turned upside down to find you. As long as you remain missing, the rule of the king will not be secure.” His second attempt was far more informative.

“So civil war, then.” Your voice trembled as you said it. You knew that the kingdom had just emerged from decades of internal conflict. Your disappearance would throw it back into disarray. Could your conscience handle it? Wasn’t the death of one prisoner girl a just price to save thousands of innocent lives?

Hoseok could see the hesitation in the way your hands clenched anxiously into fists, wrinkling the linens you wore. As respectable as your altruism was, it was wholly unnecessary in this case.

“Y/n, do you know why you were locked up here? Why do you have to be killed publicly tomorrow by burning?”

Your gaze snapped to his. “Of course,” you replied immediately. That had been the question on your mind ever since you were aware of your surroundings when you’d wanted to go out and play, and the servants and guards had told you no. You parroted their words now to the demon standing in front of you. “It’s for my protection and the protection of the kingdom.”

“Yes, but why?” he pressed. “Why you? How does you being here accomplish that?”

It felt like there wasn’t enough air in the room. He was pressuring you, voicing aloud the questions that had tormented you, kept you awake at night, staring deep into your soul and forcing free all the secrets you didn’t dare acknowledge for fear of what it would cost you.

“Stop it,” you hissed, attempting to remain composed, to show him that you weren’t affected by his sinful words. But despite your royal blood, you were untrained in the art of decorum, and your distress was visible in every inch of your body, from the clench of your jaw to the set of your shoulders and the tears that you couldn’t force back.

“Your father,” he continued, undeterred, “was the king. He was overthrown and given a traitor’s execution by the man who usurped him, the current king.”

“Stop it!” you cried, abandoning all pretense of nonchalance as you threw yourself from your chair, pressing your hands against your ears. “Stop it, stop it, stop it,” you sobbed. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

“Y/n, I understand that it’s difficult, but you must know all of this. If you choose to die a martyr for your people tomorrow at dawn, that is your decision. But you should know why.” He bent to you, placing his hand on your shoulder as he sought your gaze.

You glared at him with teary eyes. “Why?” you demanded. “Why do I have to know? What am I supposed to do with this information? I’ve been locked in this room my whole life, for God’s sake!” you screamed. Hoseok sat on the ground in front of you, holding you close to his chest and rocking you back and forth.

“Shh,” he consoled you as you wept, letting you cling to him as you had so many times before. No matter what it was – a scraped knee, a scolding from a guard when you’d gotten too curious about the outside world – he’d been the one who was there for you. As he was now. The familiar embrace was comforting, reminding you of the years you’d spent together when his words failed.

“Okay,” you finally said, sniffling as you raised your head off his chest to look up at him. “Tell me.” With your jaw clenched and your chin determinedly raised, your birthright shone through your face.

Nodding his assent, Hoseok took a moment to sort through his thoughts before he spoke again. “You are the daughter of the old king, and any son you bear will have a claim to the throne stronger than the king’s own heir. This is why you have been trapped here.”

In a softer voice, he continued, “This is why you are to die a traitor and a heretic.”

“A traitor?” you repeated in a tremulous tone. “A heretic?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“They would drag my name through the mud for having been born?” Your voice rose, but he met your gaze unflinchingly.

“Yes, my lady.”

“And what if I do not do as they will?” you asked.

“There will be civil unrest here, my lady. And… the bet will remain undecided.”

“What does that mean?”

“The devil will not win, because you were not executed.”

“So by leaving, I will be saving the people?” you asked, raising your brow.

“Not exactly, my lady. The devil will not win, and control over the kingdom will not be transferred to him. But…” he paused for dramatic effect.

“But what?” you prompted impatiently. Now was not the time for theatrics, you thought.

“The people will have shown, even if you are not executed, that they will not follow His will. He will no longer watch over them.”

“The kingdom will be forsaken,” you murmured, the cogs in your mind spinning rapidly. At least if control was transferred over to Lucifer, there might be some form of guidance.

“Yes,” he confirmed with a nod.

“I—I have to think about it,” you said, lurching to your feet as you backed away from him. You paced the entire length of the room restlessly, your hand resting against your forehead. Hoseok watched you, sitting on the ground like the little boy you could still remember him as. His lanky frame looked borderline ridiculous sprawled out on the ground like that.

Although he looked like he was watching you lazily, without a care in the world, Hoseok was actually paying close attention to you. After so many years by your side, he could basically read your mind, and he knew just what to say to sway you.

“Are you really thinking about sacrificing yourself?” he asked, propping his chin on his hand as his catlike eyes followed you around the room.

“No… maybe… yes?” Your tone grew increasingly confused, trailing off quietly.

“Haven’t you done enough for them?” he wondered in a deceptively light tone, sounding like he was just musing to himself instead of trying to convince you. He didn’t want to scare you off, after all.

“What?” He knew you would hear him and was satisfied when you refocused your attention onto him, your eyes wide.

He shrugged, looking embarrassed that he’d been overheard. “I mean, you lived your whole life for them stuck in the tower. Do you want to die for them too? When they’ve done nothing but hate and curse you all your life?”

Your chin wobbled. “They cursed me?” All this time, you’d believed that you were a hero for sacrificing your freedom for the protection of the people.

Hoseok’s green demon eyes filled with sorrow for you. “Y/n… you had to have known. What were they supposed to say about the bastard daughter of the old king?”

“If I’m a bastard, why am I here? My children wouldn’t have a claim to the throne anyway.” Your brow wrinkled in confusion.

“Your parents’ marriage was annulled after your father was executed. They said the marriage was made under false pretenses.”

Shocked, you sank down on your bed, your hand blindly reaching for the mattress before you lowered your body heavily down onto it. “They took everything from me,” you murmured. Your birthright, your freedom, and, tomorrow, your life.

“They don’t have to,” Hoseok said, watching you carefully. Would you fall into his clutches now?

“What’s your plan?” you asked quietly, looking up at him. Your expression was open now, trusting and curious, and he felt the triumph of victory curling in his stomach.

“I’ll take you away, of course.” It sounded simple, because it was. There was just one catch.

“And then what?” That wasn’t it, though.

“The world is huge, Y/n,” he said, spreading his arms wide for emphasis. “We can travel around the world. No one will ever find us,” he promised with a wink.

“Really?” Your eyes filled with hope, your back straightening slightly. He could see your mind filling with dreams now of seeing all the places that you’d only read about in books.

He nodded, smiling tenderly at you. Demon he might be, but your childlike wonder soothed his damned soul.

“Wow,” you marveled. He was promising you everything you’d ever wanted, tempting you with your deepest secret desires. Just like the snake in the Bible. As you remembered that, your mood plummeted. There was definitely a price to pay for all of this.

“What’s the catch?” you asked cautiously.

The sweet smile turned into a sinister smirk. You’d always been a smart cookie, he thought. Of course you would realise that none of this came for free.

(You forced yourself to ignore how sexy that expression was on him.)

“The devil will probably look for you,” Hoseok admitted. “He only wins if you’re actually executed so he’ll want to deliver you back here.”

“For fuck’s sake, Hobi, you should have started with that!” you snapped. “How can we run from the devil himself?!”

“No, I have a plan, trust me!” His eyes widened earnestly, the picture of innocence. You glared at him. How many times had he said that right before he got you into trouble? He’d always disappeared right before anyone came in and caught what looked like you alone in the middle of a mess.

Come to think of it, was any of this real? Was it all just a giant hallucination dreamt up by your desperate mind? The guards and servants had never acknowledged Hoseok’s existence, instead indulgently smiling at you and calling you an adorable child when you told them about your adventures with him.

“How do I know this is real?” Your voice trembled. What if you were just crazy, the isolation having driven you mad?

“I don’t know how to convince you,” Hoseok admitted. “But does it matter?”

Your gaze shot up to him. Of course it matters, you wanted to snap. But really, did it? If it wasn’t real, you’d be slaughtered tomorrow, a pawn in a game you’d never even known about. But if you believed, you’d have one more night of peace. Of hope.

Your shoulders slumped as you sighed, your face buried in your hands. Why did you have to be the one caught in this situation?

“Fine,” you conceded, mumbling the words into your palms. “What’s your plan?” The words were said without enthusiasm.

“The devil is… lazy and distracted,” Hoseok said, trying to put it delicately. In truth, Lucifer was so preoccupied with chasing his erratic impulses and desires that he barely concentrated on anything too difficult, preferring to let his minions (like Hoseok) take care of it. “It’ll be easy for him to find you as you are because your soul is so pure, it kind of glows.” You were basically a beacon for the devil.

“And I suppose you know how to stop it from doing that?” you asked dryly.

“Of course.” His eyes glinted. “We just have to tar your soul.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” Your brow arched. “You don’t have a lot of time.”

Standing, he stalked with purpose towards you. His pupils narrowed into slits, unsettling demon eyes focusing on you like a predator on its prey. Coming to a halt right in front of you, he bent down, bracing his hands against the mattress on either side of where you were sitting. You swallowed and looked away, leaning back slightly. Unfazed, he followed you, his forehead almost touching yours as he stared straight into your eyes.

“I don’t need a lot of time,” he breathed, the warm air falling on your lips.

You exhaled shakily, clenching and unclenching your fists in your linens. “Hobi…” Your voice was weak and unsure, fading like the light streaming in through the window as night descended upon the kingdom. “What are you doing?” He’d never taken such liberties with you before.

“You know what I’m doing,” Hoseok asserted. His voice wasn’t loud, but it didn’t need to be. He knew he was right, could hear it in the quickening of your breath. You might be innocent, having been stuck here all your life, but your body knew and reacted.

This would be easy.

“Is this—” you paused to gulp “—part of your plan?”

His right hand lifted off the mattress and slid along your bare calf, right under the hem of your linens. “What better way to ruin your innocence than bedding a demon?” he asked, one side of his mouth quirking up in a half-smirk. His hand went up, up, past your knee, to the side of your thigh. “What do you say, my lady? Will you run away with me?”

Your decision took only a split second to make. “Fuck it,” you decided, before leaning forward the fraction of an inch that was necessary to press your lips to his. Your hands settled around his waist, but you quickly realized that for all your bravado, you had no idea what you were doing. Just as you were about to pull back in embarrassment, however, Hoseok made his move, the hand that wasn’t caressing your leg reaching up to cradle your jaw as he tilted your head upwards to make it easier to deepen the kiss.

“Good girl,” he growled against your lips, the hand holding your chin travelling down to your neck. Gripping it tight, he pushed you back so that you fell on the mattress, crawling onto the bed and hovering over you.

“Hobi,” you gasped as he started trailing kisses over your jawline, sucking a livid bruise into the sensitive patch right under it. Your hands scrabbled helplessly at his sides, not sure what to do.

“What is it, love?” he muttered against your skin.

“Hobi, I don’t know what to do,” you confessed.

He stopped, lifting his head to stare down at you. “Don’t worry,” he told you, his tone full of dark promise. “I’ll show you.” He drew his hand up from your thigh to your hip, taking the hem of your linens with it. Your lips opened as you drew in a shuddering gasp and he grinned down at you before crushing his lips back onto yours.

Another time, probably, he would kiss you deeply and savagely, all teeth and tongues and raw need, but for now, he held himself back, reining in his beastly urges out of consideration for your inexperience. The slow, gentle kisses he traded with you instead, running his tongue along your bottom lip and feeling you shiver underneath him, were fun in a different way.

He was a demon, after all. He loved stealing your innocence.

His fingertips ghosted across your lower belly, down to your core. You closed your eyes tight and bit your lip as he stroked his fingers across your slit, gathering up the fluid that had leaked from you, but couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped you as you felt the pad of his finger brush over your clit.

“Y/n… open your eyes for me,” he compelled. You obeyed helplessly, watching, transfixed as he knelt astride you, sucking the fingers coated in your essence off. “You taste so good, love.” The sheer enjoyment in his expression as he tasted you made you clench involuntarily.

“Good girl,” he praised you. He shucked his shirt quickly and then started unlacing his breeches, while you watched with wide eyes. You lifted your hands to his abdomen, then paused right before you made contact, unsure if you were allowed to.

Hoseok quirked his eyebrow at you, his hands pausing their work. “You know, the whole point of this is that you’re allowed to touch,” he commented dryly.

You flushed, your hands drawing back slightly in your embarrassment. Rolling his eyes at you fondly, he took your hands in his and guided them to his abs. “Don’t be shy,” he encouraged in a softer tone as your eyes widened.

“Wow,” you breathed, trailing your fingers down his abs. You’d never felt a man before, so warm and solid, all hard edges and ridges. Soon, you reached the edge of his breeches, and you took over his previous task of undoing the laces as he smirked down at you. While he’d been fast and purposeful in his movements, you took a leisurely, unhurried pace, happy to take your time uncovering the mysteries of his body.

When you were finally done, you raised your gaze to meet his, and he stared back at you, silently asking what you were going to do next. Emboldened by what you perceived to be a challenge, you hooked your fingers in his waistband and pulled his breeches halfway down his thighs. His length sprang free, and you stared at it in wonder before looking up at Hoseok again, this time unsurely.

“Go ahead,” he said, nodding, as he tried to hold back his laughter. Virgins were so cute, and you were the sweetest one, because you were his, all his, because you knew him and wanted him, instead of as a result of some trickery. He sucked in a breath as you brushed the backs of your fingers gently across it, then took it in your hand hesitantly. The surface was smooth, but hot and hard in your grasp, and you were instantly entranced.

He nodded encouragingly at you and, emboldened, you started stroking him lightly. “You can go harder, love, it won’t break,” he said, startling you slightly.

When you did as he asked, he let out a low groan, throwing his head back. “You’re a natural, love,” he said in a low, raspy voice, making heat pool in your core. He wrapped his hands around your wrists gently, pulling you away from him, before tugging your linens over your head. You looked away and swallowed, embarrassed by your nudity, and Hoseok tutted, gently holding your jaw and turning you back to face him.

“Don’t look away from me, love. You’re beautiful,” he told you before kissing you again, one hand bracing his weight above you while the other slid down your body to your core. With his leg, he nudged yours apart, exposing your intimate flesh to his touch. He circled his thumb over your clit while slowly pushing one finger into you.

“Shh,” he soothed against your lips when you started to cry out in discomfort. “I know it hurts, love, but I have to prepare you, okay?” You’d never heard Hoseok speak to you this gently before, and you settled your hands around his hips, holding on tight for comfort.

He slowly stretched you out, with one finger, then two, his thumb never ceasing its ministrations on your clit. Slowly, the discomfort was replaced with pleasure, tightening in your lower belly. You brought your knees up to bracket his body and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Hobi, please,” you whimpered, holding on for dear life. It felt like you were building up to something, but it was too big and new and a little scary, if you were being honest.

“It’s all right, love, you’re doing so well,” he said, pressing kisses to your lips, your jaw, your neck, paying special attention to the spot where he’d left his mark. You threw your head back, your hips following the rhythm of his hand as you bit your lip to hold back the gasps and whispered moans. His erection felt like a brand against your hip, and you could feel him squirming slightly, his body impatient despite the honeyed words he whispered.

The slick sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you echoed throughout the room, reaching a crescendo as you approached your climax. “Good girl, so good for me, you’re going to cum all over my fingers and then on my cock, aren’t you, love,” he encouraged, keeping up a filthy litany that was endlessly titillating to you, until with a shaky moan, you came, clenching down hard on his fingers as you shuddered under him.

He patiently worked you through your orgasm, only withdrawing his hand when you slumped back onto the bed, breathing hard as sweat beaded on your brow. With the hand covered in your essence, he reached for his own hard length, stroking himself to take some of the edge off as he regarded you. So beautiful, delicate and vulnerable under him, and his, all his.

Hooking his arms under your legs, he pulled them further apart before releasing them. You knew to stay in the position he’d manhandled you into, your arms still locked around his neck. “I’m going to fuck you now, my sweet princess,” he whispered against your lips as he positioned himself. “I’m going to fill you up and stain your beautiful, pure soul. Would you like that?”

“Yes, yes, Hobi, please,” you begged in a breathy voice. You meant it, too. What good was purity and goodness when the God you’d been taught to worship had made a bet on your life, thinking you so insignificant and unimportant that it was a game to him? You wanted to stick it to him, and to everyone else who’d betrayed you before you were even born, punishing you for the sin of existing. Hoseok had offered you an outlet for all your hatred and anger, but it was you, all you, who’d harboured those feelings for years, who’d silently cursed those who imprisoned you when you’d done nothing wrong.

“Please fuck me, Hobi,” you whined before pressing your lips to his in a kiss, something you’d picked up remarkably quickly – but then, like your parents, you’d always been intelligent. He smiled against your lips as he slowly started pushing into you, taking his time and letting you get used to it. He’d prepared you with his fingers, but he was longer and thicker than even three of them together, and there was some discomfort as you were breached for the first time.

You whimpered, blinking back tears as he shushed you with soothing touches and soft kisses, keeping himself under rigid control as you rippled and flexed around him while you tried to adjust to the intrusion. “You’re doing so well, love, just a little more,” he cooed, rocking his hips gently as he brushed some hair off your face.

Eventually, he was fully seated inside you, and he paused to let you catch your breath. “That’s all of me, love, you did so well taking it all in.” He kissed you gently, biting back the urge to thrust, although he couldn’t quite keep himself from grinding his hips slightly for some delicious friction. “You feel so good, so hot and tight around me, so perfect,” he whispered, panting slightly. His breath came out in puffs against your temple, tickling you.

“Hobi…” you groaned, your hands raking down his back until you couldn’t anymore, having reached the point where his wings extended from his body.

“Fuck,” he panted, rearing back slightly to thrust into you. That was a sensitive spot for him, and you’d found it without even knowing. As he pushed his way into you again, his pelvis bumped your clit, causing you to moan as your legs wrapped around him.

“Hobi, that feels good,” you whined. In response, he did it again, and again, building up a gentle rhythm. The sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room together with your combined moans and pants, a dirty, beautiful, sinful symphony.

“Y/n, you’re so good, shit,” Hoseok swore, his nails digging into his palms as he clenched his fists. He was skating too close to the edge, and he knew, even without asking, that you weren’t there yet. He was thousands of years old and had bedded countless women; he would not be unmanned by a human, and a virgin at that.

“Hobi,” you moaned in response, your fingers brushing across the base of his wings again. You opened your eyes and marveled at the sight of your only friend and now lover, his jaw clenched and teeth gritted as he concentrated. His wings had spread open over the both of you, blocking your view of the rest of the room. It felt like there was only you and him, and nothing else in the world. And, in this moment, that may well have been the case.

“Fuck, you need to cum soon, Y/n,” he said in a strained voice as he reached down to rub at your clit with his fingers. He was less gentle now, forcefully bucking into you like he couldn’t help himself. He hadn’t even noticed the change in his tempo, but you had, and you loved it.

“Hobi, harder,” you begged, your hips rising to meet his.

His teeth bared in a snarl in response. “Yeah?” he panted in a voice gritty with need as he did as you asked, never letting up on your clit. “If you want me to fuck you harder, my lady, you need only ask.” The sound of the barren wooden headboard hitting the stone wall joined the sounds of your fucking.

“Are you close, love?” he asked, dipping his head back down for another kiss.

“Yes, Hobi, yes, yes,” you cried, tightening your arms and legs around him as you hurtled towards your climax.

“Cum for me, love,” he commanded, and almost on cue, you did, your mouth opening in a silent cry as your back arched. Your expression as you were stuck in the throes of your climax was beautiful to him, and so were the sounds of your helpless breaths and choked moans that streamed from you.

The feeling of your core tightening around him, squeezing his length, drew his own orgasm out, and he shuddered over you, his head dropping so that his forehead rested on your shoulder as he came inside you, filling you up with hot ropes of his seed. You stroked the back of his head as he groaned through it, your eyes half-lidded with contentment.

When he was done, he slumped over you, his wings falling to the bed like every part of him was exhausted as his softening length slipped slowly out of you. He tended to you with soft kisses and whispered nothings until you both caught your breath before rolling onto your side.

“So,” he prompted, causing you to turn your body so you were facing him. “Do you have any regrets?”

You giggled. “Why would I have regrets?”

“You know,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “You’ve ‘damned your soul’ and all that.” He didn’t do air quotes with his fingers, but you heard it in his tone.

“My soul was already damned.” It was true, you knew. Even the powers that be had decided your life was unimportant enough to risk on a gamble, and you were condemned on this earth for the crime of being born to a deposed king. “My birth was a mistake.”

“No,” Hoseok said firmly, cradling your face as he leaned in to kiss you. “You were not a mistake. The politics that takes place outside the walls of this tower have nothing to do with you. The civil war was not your fault, and your imprisonment is yet another sin committed by the imposter king.”

“Okay,” you accepted, snuggling close to him. You acted nonchalant now, since you were high on endorphins and sleepy from your physical exertion, but he knew that it would take you time to truly understand what he was telling you. It didn’t matter – he would be there with you every step of the way.

“So what’s the plan, Hobi?” you asked, your words distorted slightly by the jaw-cracking yawn you couldn’t hold back.

Hoseok leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. You really were too cute. “Well, we’re going to take a nap for a little while,” he said, hugging you close. “Then you’re going to get dressed in the robes they had prepared for you to die in, and we’re going to scare the shit out of your father’s murderer.” After a lifetime dressed in what amounted, basically, to undergarments, the clothes that had been prepared for your execution were the only clothes that suited a lady of your rank, and you weren’t leaving without them.

“Okay,” you said, your voice dipping slightly towards the end as you slowly succumbed to sleep.

“Then, we can go anywhere you want, love. Travel the world, see the great wonders, eat all sorts of delicious things.” Tenderly, he brushed your hair behind your ear.

You drifted off to sleep easily – perhaps too easily, for someone who had just damned the kingdom to civil war and caused them to be cast adrift from the embrace and protection of God. Yet you didn’t feel bad. After all, who was truly evil? Was it the demon come to steal a virgin from the tower? The harlot who was in bed with a demon, who’d chosen her own selfish desire to live a free life over the protection and safety of the people – people who, in a different life, would have been hers? Or was it the man willing to sacrifice an innocent child for his own power? The people willing to turn a blind eye to justice for stability and riches? The God so detached from the lives of those who worshipped him that he was willing to turn a blind eye on the suffering of innocents?

For the first time in your life, you truly didn’t care.

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[scriptaed]

his side, her side | 11:11 P.M.

genre: angst/fluff/implied smut; 

pairing: reader x jungkook;

length: 4.3k;

synopsis: a collective snapshots in time shared between two, whose fates were undeniably intertwined and futures would never come to be.

a/n: alternatively: his side, her side pt. 11;

her side;

“What?!” 

Your fists slam on the counter much more forceful than necessary when you hear the words Jeon Jungkook slip from Yezi’s lips but, luckily for you, the vibrations from the music blasting through the cramped club that had overfilled the capacity hours ago are enough to drown you out. Another large gulp of liquor downed under the influence of yet another wave of unsolicited sorrow, which had ironically arisen by the holy glass itself, submerges you in a somber state you had long sought for amidst what seemed to be a fragile girl wielding an unbreakable shield they called “strength.”

“I said,” your friend repeats as she leans in but nevertheless screams aloud, “isn’t that your coworker a-k-a diehard crush, Jeon Jungkook?!”

“No,” you groan, slapping her arm with a grotesque look on your face as you scream right back at her through your strained throat, “I meant I know what you said and, damn, are you trying to expose me to the entire world!”

Yezi only gives you an unimpressed frown of impertinence, “excuse me, but you’re the one who’s yelling right now!”

Rolling your eyes and succumbing to the scorching heat in your cheeks, your face collapses into the palms of your two hands that immediately begin rubbing circles into your temples. The toxins in your blood have your head throbbing and you almost feel as if your controller has been handed to an unknown being or, rather, substance. 

“Ugh,” you mutter through gritted teeth, “I can’t believe he’s still following me around! Even on my very last day!”

“Following you?” your friend almost chokes on her water as she pokes a finger into your hollow head. “The alcohol must have really eroded whatever little was left in here, huh?” 

“Then,” you sway your head much too quickly, for your entire body nearly tumbles off the stool before you caught yourself with a heavy step to the right, “explain how he always ends up at the same street, the same cafe, the same bar, and, and, and how he’s always at the same place at the same time as me, and how no matter how hard I try to avoid him, he’s always right there? Just waiting for me at the end of whatever independent paths we take?”

Yezi can only blink her eyes blankly at you. Her look is an ambiguous mix of concern, having witnessed a crazy lady babble on about the epitome of destiny, and a tinge of awe, a temporary moment of envy after being struck with a story seemingly straight out of a fairytale. Without a clear explanation to your nonsensical albeit pristinely truthful question, your friend finds herself in the same position as you had been just half a year ago: at a loss for words. 

Clearing your throat to recover from your outburst, a moment you had internalized and failed to bury like you had so promised to yourself, you lean against the counter once again with a head that hangs low and a pair of eyes that wander across the room. 

Despite your eternally intertwined future with the very man beholding your gaze and every ounce of your current attention, you had somehow managed to abandon the shared memories in the past months… or so you thought; because you here, having the false pretension of leaving what you denied to call anything but fleeting infatuation, yet feeling as though time had never passed at all. 

Butterflies fluttering, heart pulsing, and an incessant sick twisting of insecurities shoved somewhere in the back of your conscience—you’re right there back in the pool where the start to your end was born. 

“Did you tell him?”

“About what?”

“About you leaving the company.”

“Oh, no,” you simply mumble, eyes quickly flickering to the tabletop after spotting the familiar woman beside him. Still, curiosity gets the best of you when you can’t help but peak at the two, the female seemingly much more distressed and the male hanging his head low apologetically, before you, too, hang your head low in shame. “Sorry. You must be sick of hearing about him.”

“No, it’s fine,” Yezi’s voice softens as she places a comforting hand over yours. “You okay? About Jieun, I mean.”

“Yeah,” you shrug, chuckling, “it’s… it’s whatever. I got over it months ago.” 

Your friend nods hesitantly, “...you think they’re fighting? 

“...I don’t know. Not my business either way.”

Your words are like a self-inflicted attack. How shameful is it of you to speak from a feigned moral high ground? His business has never been your business—that is an unequivocal truth. So why is it that you feel the way you do? Prying, hurting, and, dare you admit it, somewhat rejoicing over the downfall of what had ended you and him. 

 And just as you down another glass of liquor, nearly collapsing backwards when you throw your head back, you catch Jieun pointing a finger—a somewhat accusatory albeit much softer than one thrown by a witchy nemesis—at you before she grabs her purse and runs out of the club in tears. Jungkook, on the other hand, remains still in his chair with lowered eyes fixated to the empty stool beside him, as though repaying whatever debt he owed to the ghost of a woman who had long left his side. 

“Oh my God, did you just see—”

“—Lee Yeji!” someone shrills and you have to crane your neck to gander at the stranger who had just appeared out of thin air. The slight breeze of her beeline past you hits you seconds late—a recurring sign to you and your reproaching intake limit. “Is that you?!”

“Linzy!” your friend jumps to her feet and joins in on the stranger’s screams as well as small hops. “Oh my God, how long has it been?!”

“Where have you been all this time?!”

“Here in this boring city, duh,” Yezi bursts into a cackle. “How have you been?! You still hung over your ex?” 

The lack of an introduction would have been painfully awkward for you as you stared at the fond reunion between two friends, but thanks to the alcohol stirring your mind that had floated elsewhere and the blood running through your heated system, it’s almost as if you’re just a member of audience, watching another crappy chick flick. 

“First of all, I’ve moved onto another man. And second of all, rude,” the woman named Linzy throws her head back in a fit of laughter. Honestly, watching the hysteria between the two has you smiling against your rested hand; and if it weren’t for her averted attention to you, you probably wouldn’t have noticed until you quickly hid the ditzy smile on your face. “I’m sorry, is it okay if I borrow Yezi for a second? We haven’t talked in sooo long.”

“Oh no,” you quickly shake your head, gesturing them toward the dance floor, “go right ahead. I think I can do without her constant jabs at my nonexistent love life.” 

“Oh my God,” Linzy gapes, “she does that to you, too?!”

“Hey, you two can be friends but not over a common dislike for me, okay?” Yezi warns with a wary finger before joining the two of you in a heap of laughter. Patting your shoulder and leaning in, your friend squeezes you lightly, “I’ll be right back in ten minutes, alright? Wait for me here. If something comes up and you have to leave, text me.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, will do, mom” you shoo her away, “I’ll have you know I’m a grown ass adult. Now go and scream your head off.”

“What?” she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re a young adult who still can’t handle her alcohol?” 

“I said,” you raise your voice in the midst of cackles, “go and scream your head off!”

Luckily for you, your friend whirls around and skips off to join the black silhouette of a sweaty crowd going at it on the dance floor before she could catch the proof of her aforementioned premonition; because only five minutes after averting your eyes from the empty stool beside you and downing another glass or two in a vain attempt to distract yourself from checking the presence of the boy across from you, a wave overtakes you and your lightheadedness takes a turn for the worse. 

Maybe it’s the alcohol that brings out the irrational side of you or maybe your senses had truly been heightened or maybe you’re just imagining things, but you swear a pair of resilient, watchful eyes reciprocate your occasional peak to the other side—and even though you know it would be another step toward a ticking time bomb, you just wish you’re right. 

You’re hoping for a miracle to happen, for him to come up to you, for you to muster enough courage to strike a conversation, or for fate to brush off your accursed wish to finally untangle your paths from his; but when your eyes peek upward once again, your heart sinks at the empty chair where he had once sat, swirling his glass with those boldly peering eyes of his. Sighing, one swivel in your seat and a slight sway too hard to the left, you nearly hurl yourself into the arms of the girl beside you only to find yourself in someone else’s. 

A pair of sturdy hands twice the size of yours hold you steadily and it only takes you a glance to the hands on your left shoulder along with the familiar heftiness of his built chest against your back for you to know exactly whose hold you had allowed yourself into. 

And for once, you’re thankful to the little antics pulled by fate itself. 

“Hey,” he utters, peering down at you from above.

“Oh,” you manage to say, head leaning against his chest as you crane your neck to stare at the face that hovers above yours. “It’s Jungkook.” 

The little crooked smile on his pressed lips have you flashing the goofiest grin at him—and you know it’s the goofiest of all your grins, but you’re helpless under the sway of his magnetic presence. 

“Still can’t handle liquor, I see.” 

“Shut up,” you laugh much more than elicited, “are you saying you can drink now? After, what, six months?”

The boy shrugs smugly, “maybe. I’m a grown ass adult now.”

“You? An adult?” you can’t help but laugh at the bewildered grin of disbelief plastered across his face. Something about the high of the liquor and the constant stream of background noise that drowns you out has your words slipping from your lips with utter ease. For once, you’re neither bashful nor wary of how you carry yourself in front of him. It’s refreshing albeit all the more worrying when you consider all that you’ve left buried away from him. “So? What’re you doing here, grown ass adult Jeon Jungkook?”

The smile on his face fades as he mutters, “nothing, really.”

“Really?” you quirk a brow. “Where’s your girlfriend, Jieun?” 

“...she’s not my girlfriend,” he responds flatly, “...anymore.” 

“Oh,” you can only utter in shock, speaking exactly what flashes across your mind, “fuck, I’m screwed.”

Jungkook frowns with knitted brows, “what?” 

“I meant,” you quickly assert, realizing your errs, “I meant I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Yeah,” he smirks, scoffing at you impudently. “You shouldn’t have.”

A comfortable silence befalls the two of you in the midst of rowdy hundreds—well, until yet another word slips your mind… in addition to your lips. 

“...heartbreaker.”

“What?” 

“Nothing.”

The widened grin of mischief that stretches from ear to ear has you mirroring that goofy grin of him as you can’t help but become enraptured by the facial profiles of the charming man just several  inches from you. If this were sober you, you would have been much more distant, emotionally and physically; but the sway of the night has you completely under its control. 

Plus, you’ve given away all your last fucks long ago when you decided to aspire for a job in another city nearby. Maybe this is your last chance to finally get rid of what had left your chest heavy so long ago.

“Well, I’m just going to grab my friend before I pass—oh shit,” you curse as you nearly tumble to the floor, hands sprawled out and hair forming curtains around your lowly hanging head just as he catches you and brings you back to your feet. Stumbling over your heels, your hands grasp tightly onto his as you try to shake the locks of hair out of your shrouded vision. “Sorry, I mean, thanks—” you laugh “—for saving me from eating shit.”

“Holy fuck,” the boy remarks, chuckling worriedly, “you’re a mess. Go home.”

“I’ll have you know,” you emphasize, sing-songing at this point, “that I am—” you point a finger against his chest and his eyes flicker in amusement over your jab “—going home, just need to… find my friend.”

“Where’s your friend?”

“There,” you throw a hand off into the space somewhere toward the floor.

“Where the fuck is ‘there?’”

“There!”

Jungkook frowns, “where??”

“I said,” you’re basically whining as you jump up and down while holding him for stability and, luckily, he holds you even tighter, “there!!”

“Holy shit,” he shakes his head, furrowing his brows and laughing in disbelief, “fuck this, I’ll take you home.”

“Shut up, nope,” you adamantly shake your head, trying to toss his hands to the side only to nearly trip over your own feet once again. 

To your rescue, once again, Jungkook throws your right arm over his shoulders with one firm hand and another much gentler, chivalrous hand over to your left waist, careful not to invade your personal space. Laughing at how ironic the night has turned out to be, somehow ending up in the arms and closer than ever to the man you had sworn to have gotten over less than an hour ago, you give into the force of gravity and fate as your head rests helplessly against his chest. 

“Just, just,” you struggle to remember what you wanted to say, “just admit you want to use this as an… an excuse to bring me home.” 

The boy only chuckles under his breath as he leads you out of the doors and a blast of fresh, night air refreshes your complexion, “whatever gets you home safe.”

“Ah,” you sigh, a puff of white escaping into the air just as he waves a hand out to tail a cab, “I hate it when you do that.” 

“Do what?” he arches a brow. 

“That,” you say in a fit of frustration over your lack of constraint but continue nonetheless, knowing well just how long this night will haunt you for the sleepless nights ahead, “when you act all gentlemanlike with me...”

“Is that a bad thing…?”

“Yes!” you exclaim just as a cab halts by the sidewalk. “I hate how you treat me so well!” 

“The fuck,” he utters under his breath, holding you steady in one hand and opening the door to the cab with another, “fine, get in by yourself, then.”

Caught off guard by the loss of his firm hold, you hesitate, suddenly gripping onto his hands tighter than ever as you take a step down the sidewalk, “wait—”

“—that’s what I thought,” he quips before suddenly picking you up into his arms, your legs dangling freely in the air without the burden of your weight, and gently placing you down into the middle backseat. Your head is spinning at this point from the spur of events and from literally being swept off the feet. You would have been foolish to deny the weight in your chest that settles when you realize your whimsical night has come to end when, to your surprise, the boy gets into the seat right beside you. With a loud huff and a slam of the now closed door, Jungkook speaks, “Providence Street, please.”

He still remembers where you live.

Gaping at him in the full darkness of the backseat with the countless golden streetlights that pass by like flickering beacons of warmth, a fleeting albeit numerous opportunity to gaze at the apple of your eye in its full glory, and gulping when you notice him staring right back at you with those twinkling, unreadable eyes of his, you finally acknowledge that you really couldn’t care less if he catches you staring… which he does. 

And it’s that this moment, this unconquerable, fleeting, otherworldly moment of an unbreakable high as your head shuffles to the side along with waves of the bumpy ride and your eyes spot the arrival of that one magical hour, one magical minute, 11:11, that an epiphany dawns upon you. 

Something will inevitably ensue tonight and, whatever it may be, whether you confess or not, you just wish you could finally let bygones be bygones, as the two of you should have been in the first place. 

-

his side;

If there’s one thing this man did not expect from a night that has thus far been nothing but dread, it would be crossing paths with the rare one who could etch stars into his skies out of nothing.

“What?” Jungkook can’t help but crack a crooked grin at the goofiest grin adorning his star’s’ beet red cheeks. 

“You’re doing it again!” she hollers into the front of the cab rather than the subject at hand.

“Doing what?” 

“It. You’re doing…” she pumps a fist at her chest twice, “things again!” 

“You’ve...” Jungkook pauses, looking her up and down with concern overshadowed by bemuse because, well, look at her, he chuckles to himself, so gauche in her own adorable attempts at daintiness, “...lost it.” 

“I honestly think I have,” she laughs with a hand to what he figures must be an overwhelming lightheadedness. 

There must be something about the heat in her cheeks that run down her bare neck and along the dress straps that had slipped from her collarbones, something about the first recognition of a level vulnerability that she had never bared to him before, because even he could peer at her and her unreachable high that is cloud nine, all whilst beside her. Ice-thawing and sun-basking, he could only watch in admiration as a magic stronger than any drink spurs her forward; and he could tell it would take her little to nothing to muster the courage to just jump and fall…

…and when she leans in to whisper, he has an inkling of tonight’s impending stain. 

“Do you wanna hear a secret?”

Quirking a brow at her, he remarks, “only if it actually makes sense.”

“Okay,” she giggles before quickly adding, “you’re really not dating her anymore, right?”

“...no?” Jungkook answers, confused. “Why—”

“—cause I won’t tell you if you are!” she exclaims playfully, throwing her hands out into the air. She continues on her babbling before he could even react. “Oh, and I’m not doing this because I want to take advantage of your breakup. Oops, was that too much too soon? Well, I’m only telling you because I want to get over it. Don’t act on it, okay?”

“The fuck?” he utters with a raised brow, softly chuckling. “Uh, on second thought, I think I’ll pass—”

“—promise me you believe me when I say I don’t feel this way anymore!”

Having never seen a more childlike side to a rather dependable colleague he once knew, Jungkook can’t help but laugh in disbelief, “feel what way?!” 

She smiles heavy-lidded at the sheer confusion plastered across his frown, seemingly coming in and out of consciousness. It’s a smile that could only come from a dreamer doing everything they wished they had done yet could never come to have done; and when he locks gazes with hers, it’s almost as if the two had drifted elsewhere from their bodies and are now merely watching themselves in the scene before the grand confession of a romcom through the fourth wall. 

With a finger wagging at him, beckoning for him to lean forward, which he does reluctantly, he can’t quite believe what slips from her lips. 

“You’re so good looking.”

...and when the two of them had registered her words, neither of them budge. Jungkook remains still, ears next to his lips and showing the most evident falter in his usual apathetic demeanor through the way at which his ears redden with each passing second. Slapping a hand against his chest, she pushes him back into his seat and chimes cheerfully, “like sooooooooo good looking! Don’t tell them I said this, but every girl at work thinks you’re handsome and I hate it cause it’s. so. true.” 

“You’re,” the boy scoffs in disbelief, blinking blankly at you because: one, he had never heard of such rumors and two, he had never seen her speak so brazenly, “you’re going crazy.”

“I am and what?” she challenges, slapping his chest again as he sits there blinking helplessly, “It’s your fault you look like this!”

“What even—”

“—and what about that kiss?!” she throws her hands up again. “Why did you even kiss me if you were going to date someone else later? Huh?!”

He never thought the day would come for her to mention that kiss… especially not tonight.

“And why are you always so nice to me?”

He chuckles at her less than threatening lashing, “am I supposed to be mean to you?”

“Well,” she scoffs in disbelief, “why are you literally everywhere I go then? You stalking me or something?”

“This is fucking hysterical,” Jungkook cracks a lopsided grin of mischief, pulling a phone out of his pocket. Throwing a peace sign at the camera, he pans the camera between him and the star of the night. “It’s January 11, 2020. A sober Jeon Jungkook checking in and, here, we have a messed up Y/N. Say hi—”

“—I am not messed up!” she interjects, pointing an accusing finger at the camera. “The only reason I’m messed up is because of you! And you know what’s even worse?”

“What could possibly be worse than you waking up to watch this horrific video?” 

Flailing her arms, she exclaims in a huff of frustration, “you don’t even know how badly you messed me up, Jungkook!” 

He raises a brow, raising the phone to get a better angle of the two of you. He doesn’t know why but his grip tightens. “Yeah?”

“You know,” she begins, flopping her hands into the air again.

“What now?” he chuckles, completely bemused as he watches your drunken state through his phone screen; and through his peripherals, he could catch the utterly enraptured grin of his in the corner of his screen and he just knew: he would be watching this special little clip over and over. “Just wait ‘til you watch this video—“

but her voice comes in a loud frustrated huff, a final remark cooked up in for relentlessly long years of a sheep, forgiving herself for losing sights of her captor

“—I really liked you, Jeon Jungkook!”

He freezes. 

Silence befalls the cab. 

But, like she always does, she never stops to wait for him. 

“I mean, I really,” she emphasizes adamantly, as if he had failed to hear her when it’s anything but, “reaaaaaaaally liked you!” 

Head rolling back against the headrest as the cab comes to a stop at the red light, she closes her eyes as she persists on her self-heist and blurts out frustratingly, “but you didn’t even know! And if you did, you didn’t even seem to fucking care!” 

The boy wishes he could speak. Hell, he even curses at himself for staying still the way he does now… but, what should he even say? After pining for many months, falling, acknowledging, despairing and getting over the star he had always thought to be out of reach only to discover she had been within a drink, a night, a confession’s reach, how should he feel? 

What good would it do to now recognize a love line that could have been but never came to be for the two? 

Lowering his phone and stopping the recording, a bittersweet upturn of one corner of his lips lingers just as his thumb does over “delete.” 

And after all the fond memories the two had shared within the span of a year, the gatekeeper figures maybe, for the girl’s sake, he would be the sole witness to all evidence of tonight. 

“Hellooo?” she cranes her neck to look at him with heavy-lidded eyes. “Did you hear me? I said I like—I mean, liked—you.”

“I heard you,” he presses a finger against the spot between her brows, scrunching his nose by her breath that reeks of alcohol as his tap has her head tipping onto her left shoulder. The girl only groans in protest because, apparently, she lacks the energy to defy him physically. Gazing at her from afar, a wave of adoration overwhelms him and he can’t help but chuckle under his breath. Discarding himself of his jacket, he drapes it over her bare shoulders. The boy leans in closer with one hand placed to her cheek, gently lulling her back to the right until her head lies comfortably in the crook of his left shoulder; and when he speaks, he speaks lowly but clearly, “I just wish you had told me earlier.”

The rest of the car ride proceeds in silence but never had there been more words than all that had been said tonight.

[holyguardian]

Strengths

I wanted to touch on how Aerith is different across her many worlds and I figured showcasing her strengths is a nice way to convey that while she has the same name and same attitude she isn’t necessarily a carbon copy each time she is placed somewhere different. This isn’t including A Song of Ice and Fire or Resident Evil (villager) as those strengths are leaning more towards the life of a domestic housewife or living a life around serving someone wholly without autonomy and I didn’t have the will or the want to champion those qualities (still interesting to write, but personal opinions clashing over holding that up as strengths etc etc.).

FFVII: Aerith’s power really is her magic. She is the last remaining Cetra and her skill when it comes to casting spells is further reaching than simply being the healer type, she is a glass canon and can devastate with offensive spells (thank-you Remake Aerith for blasting Sephiroth and giving me the satisfaction of having a long-standing headcanon being showcased). This is a woman who can cast even when she has crossed into the lifestream which isn’t something to sneeze at. In any world where she breaks out of Midgar or is given any form of mentor / opportunity to study you better watch out you better watch out YOU BETTER WATCH OUT. @starswhispercd‘s Scarlet in particular having the desire to empower Aerith and flat out paying for her to study science and materia at a university level will mean a game changer.

FFXV (ancient): With thanks owing entirely to @somnus-lucis-caelum‘s Somnus, she finds her footing as a shieldmaiden. Before they reunite Aerith has lived a life of hard work in a time when even simple tasks could be quite physically demanding and time consuming. Though she has to be trained for combat she already carries a lot more strength than in any other verse. Seeing potential in her, Som simply builds on that... and this Aerith is a god challenger, which speaks volumes about the impulsiveness and the confidence propping up her strength.

FFXV (present): 🌱 P L A N T S 🌱 There is no fighter here, with consideration to where she might fit in a modern setting I am comfortable with her skillset being completely out of battle and her playing a part in sustained agriculture both leading up to the years of darkness and during.

I am heavily leaning towards any splintered verse where she traveled to Lucis instead of remaining in Tenebrae she is permitted a refugee visa into Insomnia as a student (have touched on how difficult it is to enter through their refugee program with others, so she would be living and studying agriculture alone during that time) she will have already graduated and left the city before Insomnia’s fall.

DmC5: Honestly, I should list her strength here as @lostsonofsparda‘s Vergil and call it a day. Not only has he taken on a role as her protector but he navigates the gray area of soul corruption and somehow keeps her both alive and stable. She is very much a human starting back at square 1 in life with small touches of demonic corruption granting her some spell-casting abilities, but this is far less sustained and not as powerful as her FFVII-self. This magic comes at a cost that has the potential to be quite dangerous to herself.

Modern: Fame and fortune are her biggest strengths here. Had Aerith never found her lucky break with AVALANCHE, she would still be considered a good musician but the industry is so inconsistent and unforgiving that those skills wouldn’t have mattered much at all. She has a name and face that people recognise which has opened up far more business opportunities than being a good guitarist and singer. Though this has been a double-edged sword. The pressure to perform at her best and to keep contributing to the band instead of riding on their coattails has been a downfall (concerning her dependence on some prescription medications not prescribed to her), and the loss of freedom has also fostered dangerous escapism habits in the form of illegal motorbike racing.

[phantom-curve]

concept!

an AU in which the boys are all alive, normal high school students, Julie has been kicked out of her music program, and Luke falls in love with her in three days while simultaneously bringing her back to her first love of all: music.

otherwise known as: my characters in my novel aren’t doing what they’re supposed to so I’m projecting them onto characters that share similar traits in an attempt to wrangle them into obedience.

also, I’m probably going to end up writing an entire freakin fanfic out of this so ya know, lemme know if you wanna be tagged.

enjoy!

It had been a year since the last time Julie Molina’s fingertips touched down on the ivory piano keys. A year where she wouldn’t, couldn’t, play a single note to save her life without dissolving into a mass of hysterical panic. A year where even the thought of opening her mouth to sing left her throat constricting like she was allergic to the very idea. A year of deafening silence in her household, nobody even daring to pop a CD in the living room player anymore. An entire year without her mother.

In short, Julie had been having A Very Bad Day for a literal year now. Today wasn’t about to change that for her.

“What do you mean it would be best for me to find a new music program?” 

The words were a strangled cry, somehow escaping around the thick blockade in her throat.

“I’m sorry, Julie, but it’s out of my hands. I’ve done everything I can. The music program is very competitive and the requirements to keep a spot open are strict. I’ve held off the school for a year now, but...” Ms. Harrison sighed. It was obvious she didn’t like this any more than Julie did. “Participation is 75% of your grade. I can’t grade what doesn’t exist.”

The words were soft, but Julie felt the sharp sting of them cutting straight through to her heart. Ms. Harrison gave her a sympathetic look. Julie knew it wasn’t her teacher’s fault. She had been given chance after chance to fix this mess, to fix herself. The failure was hers and hers alone.

“Thank you...for everything, Ms. Harrison.”

The words were a goodbye. They both knew it. Ms. Harrison’s returning smile was gentle and sad.

“I’m so sorry, Julie. Good luck.”

And just like that, Julie Molina was no longer a vocal studies student at Los Feliz High School. 

Julie left the classroom feeling for all the world like a woman adrift in an endless sea. Who was she without music? Obviously the answer was whatever version of herself she had been for the last year, but was that really who she was now? Was she really doomed to lose that part of her identity entirely, like a limb that had to be amputated out of necessity but it’s ghost still lingered, useless and ineffective? The thought of existing like this shell of herself for the rest of her life felt overwhelmingly sad but also undeniable. After all, Julie’s music had always been tied to her mother. Without her mom, there was no music left in Julie’s heart anyway.

It was those morose thoughts that consumed her as she made her way down the school hallways, chin tucked low against her chest, hat brim pulled over her eyes so no one would notice the tattletale tear marks down her cheeks. After a year of practice, Julie had become extremely adept at navigating the school hallways basically blind. She hardly ever ran into people anymore. Obviously, because today was The Worst Day of 2020, her luck had to give out exactly at that moment.

“Oof!” 

Julie’s breath huffed out in a surprised exhale. With a graceless flailing of arms, she fell backwards smack dab onto her backside, her books completely scattering across the deserted hallway. She blinked a few times in shock, her surroundings coming into focus as she steadied her breathing. 

“Hey, watch where you’re-oh! Oh. Sorry, shoulda....shoulda done a better job lookin out.”

One large hand extended in front of her face. Julie followed the line of bare skin upwards to an impressive display of biceps peeking out from the deep side cut of the boy’s homemade tank top. Her gaze wandered further, taking in the shaggy almost too-long brown hair shoved unceremoniously underneath an orange beanie, the soft green blue eyes that were gazing at her with a clear apology. Her own eyes skipped across his face as realization dawned. Well great. Exactly what she didn’t need. Los Feliz’s very own rebel rock-n-roll bad boy here to witness her downfall. She hastily scrubbed the leftover tears from her cheeks, rising from the ground without his help thank you very much.

“No, you’re right. It was my fault. Sorry.” 

Her words came out in a clipped rush, red staining her cheeks. She tucked her head back down, maneuvering around the unfairly cute boy in front of her so she could begin to collect her books. Before she could grab more than one, a neat stack was being gently tucked into her arms.

“Nah, Molina. I had my head in the clouds. Second nature to blame someone else for my problems.” The cheeky wink he flashed her was ruined by the thread of contempt running through his last sentence. His careless, cocky shrug was a bit more convincing. “’Sides, everyone knows not to get in the way of a woman on a mission. You clearly have places to be.” 

He dipped his head, eyes bouncing across her face as he tried to catch her gaze. She gave him a small, tight smile, reaching up to tuck a lose curl behind her ear. His answering grin felt like the first glimpse of sunshine after a month of rain. The crack in her heart ached in an unfamiliar way, Julie’s hand rising of it’s own accord to rub at the dumb muscle. Their eyes held for a long moment, a weird tension crackling between the two, before Julie bit her lip and broke the stare down. Like Lucas freaking Patterson, king of the Los Feliz musical department, would ever understand what she was dealing with right now. Steeling herself against his too warm gaze, she stepped back.

“Yep. Places to be. Like...not here, so...see ya.”

Her hand rose in a stiff wave. The awkward exit was not her best work, admittedly. And was it just her imagination or had the spark behind his eyes dimmed at her dismissal? Whatever. Didn’t matter. Julie wasn’t a vocal student here anymore. Her path and Luke’s were destined to shoot in opposite directions from this moment forward: his star rising higher as his band continued to take the musical scene by storm, her star hurtling its way down to Earth in a pathetic blaze of glory before snuffing itself out on impact. They wouldn’t meet again after this.

Without a second look back, Julie turned her back on the dejected puppy moonlighting as a teenage boy in front of her and escaped out of the school into the warmth of another glorious LA afternoon. 

[mypinkparables]

The Disproportionately High Mortality Rate of Black Mothers and Babies :Facts, Factors, and Fatalities - Cheyenne Adderley

Throughout the history of the world, the loss of a child has always been a traumatic experience. In the past, losing children in their first year of life was a disturbingly common occurrence in the lives of many parents. Contributions that are majorly responsible for this phenomenon of post-neonatal death are diseases/infections, Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS), malnutrition, low birth weight, home environment issues, and troubled pregnancy. To combat this, pioneers in obstetrics/gynecology and medicine researched and developed ways in which to solve these issues. Immunizations and vaccines were developed to fight infectious diseases, education and emphasis was placed around the need for proper prenatal care, and awareness was brought to a good amount of the known dangers surrounding pregnancy. Many issues that had once plagued parenthood and pregnancies were solved. One problem that was never solved, though, would be the disproportionately high mortality rate of black mothers and babies compared to their white counterparts. Unlike the aforementioned contributions listed above, this high mortality rate is caused by a pervasive structure of systematic and societal racism that is to be explored further in the remainder of this essay. The disproportionately high mortality rate of black mothers and babies is caused by a combination of disadvantages created by societal and systematic racism, the empathy gap, and lack of access to proper prenatal medical treatment.

  The United States of America is a country that was built on the agony, anguish, and affliction of African Americans. Since it’s beginning, black lives and bodies have always been seen as being worth less than everyone else’s in economic, humanitarian, and even educational ways. There is evidence of this in slavery, Jim Crow laws, police brutality, the school-to-prison pipeline, and much, much more. There is no doubt about it, racism in the United States is an unfortunately prevalent part of our society. In terms of racial discrimination in the medical industry, the proof remains plentiful and certified. The Tuskegee Study of Untreated Syphilis in the Negro Male was a secret experiment conducted by the U.S. Public Health Service to study the progression of syphilis without treatment. This experiment was advertised as a treatment for bad blood for colored people. Participants were promised free food, medical examinations, and burial insurance. Hundreds of poor black men signed up. The problem and unethicality within this research is that the men were not fully informed about the truth of the research. There were 600 men in total, 399 diagnosed with Syphilis and 201 did not have this deadly venereal disease. The participants who had been diagnosed with Syphilis were not given any treatment, but were instead essentially left to die so that their bodies could be examined for medical research post-mortem (Brown). This atrocity of a medical experiment is important to one’s understanding of the disproportionately high mortality rate of black mothers and babies because it proves that there exists and has existed, a racial bias in the pain assessment and medical treatment of black people. This bias is the foundation for creating serious health problems in black mothers and babies, specifically, because it is an error in the systematic structure of the lives of one particular group. Problems in systematic structures are especially dangerous because they can impact a group of already previously disadvantaged people on different levels from different angles. In the context of the topics being analyzed, it would be something in close relation to the dismissal of legitimate concerns and symptoms turning into a failure of empathy which perpetuates racial disparities, leading furthermore into wide scale issues similar to,”The United States’ African-American population [being] disproportionately poor. African Americans do not tend to hold employment positions that provide medical benefits” (Fauci 77). Seemingly “small” issues or biases in things that are of major importance to people’s health and livelihood creates room for large discrepancies that become dangerous as things advance and become more serious. These large discrepancies are part of the reason why black mothers are at a higher risk for pregnancies resulting in conditions (i.e. hypertension and pre-eclampsia) that cause higher rates of infant and maternal death. 

  In order to understand how these large discrepancies create and relate to lack of access, the topics of lack of access due to racial bias and their subsequent effects on the pregnancies specifically of black mothers, must be discussed. In the duration of a pregnancy, a woman’s body goes through countless transformations, whether they be physical, emotional, or in the form of something else that is a discomfort. Important necessities in order to help refrain from or stop these changes from disturbing one’s pregnancy include,” exercise and activity, maintaining a healthy weight, caring for your mental health, nutrition, and caring for your oral health” (Omama). This means that one has to have access to the time and resources required in order to maintain the necessities needed for a healthy pregnancy. Racial bias on all levels is partly responsible for perpetuating the higher mortality rate of black mothers and babies because it is what creates the lack of access gap that impacts minority mothers. It, being racial bias, is created when an obstacle is purposefully placed between a person and a thing that they need. In the past, these obstacles existed in the form of slavery or Jim Crow Laws. They were rules that were created in order to preserve the generational  downfall of black people. After the criminalization of segregation, oppressors had to become more creative with the ways in which they oppressed minority groups. This is where lack of access becomes more relevant. Despite the tremendous and widespread need for medical treatment,” many African Americans cannot effectively access medical care. This inaccessibility is due to a variety of factors, including a lack of health insurance, an inadequate number of healthcare facilities, “patient dumping,” difficulty in obtaining prescription drugs and an insufficient number of African-American doctors.” ( Fauci 71). Instead of being upfront with racism and racial bias, oppressors began to create lack of access to the resources minority groups needed to survive and exist comfortably. Once those resources were taken away, it had the same negative impact as slavery and Jim Crow laws, without actually having to be as boldly open and directly wrong. Oppressors succeeded in using lack of access as an updated form of segregation because it was subtle yet effective and able to be made to feel “normal”.  Racial bias being so deeply ingrained into the systematic design of this country to the point where it is seen as normal, is what creates widespread phenomenons such as black mothers and babies being negatively impacted in an unfortunate plethora of ways. The seemingly harmless and minute parts of racial bias all have the ability to exalt oppression. 

The creation and perpetuation of discrimination against the black race on systematic levels causes the trickle down effect that is responsible for certain phenomenons in the medical industry. Racial bias is what gives birth to negative discrepancies between races. When a person begins to look at one group of people as “the other”, they will begin to act differently towards “the other”, consciously or not. The widespread belief that somehow black people are stronger and able to withstand more struggle than others comes from “...an underlying belief that there is a single black experience of the world. Because this belief assumes blacks are already hardened by racism, people believe black people are less sensitive to pain. Because they are believed to be less sensitive to pain, black people are forced to endure more pain” (Silverstein). This may include showing favoritism to other races because of their racial background, using slurs to describe certain races, or even just seemingly harmless jokes. Racial bias is an attitude that can take place and be reflected in many different forms. Bias is not something that can be turned off or hidden. Bias will always find a way to make itself known, but unconscious bias is especially dangerous because it gives people the illusion of not having done anything wrong. It is similar to how a big portion of the general population believes that vaping is somehow a healthier and safer option compared to real cigarette smoking. In both situations, damage is still being done no matter what the appearance of the danger is because the root of the problem still exists in both situations. Unconscious bias is able to explain why things may appear to be equal even though there are still several unfair aspects to society. Implicit biases are so powerful because they have the power to impact almost every facet of life. This means unconscious bias can range from affecting the decision of a police officer choosing whether or not to pull someone over, a hiring manager deciding on who to hire for a new position, or a doctor choosing which method of care to give to a patient. All of these situations can end up being dire and life-altering situations depending on the circumstances, as is. Adding in a bias toward a certain kind of civilian, employee, or patient only ensures that an issue will arise more in that group. Racial bias is what creates the circumstances that allow for black mothers and babies to suffer medically on such a broad and undeniable scale. Implicit bias is what makes the conditions that much worse between black and white mothers. Relating back to the topic of black mothers and babies, implicit bias is a subdivision of the empathy gap. The empathy gap is a phenomenon in which people are not able to emphasize with or fully understand one’s situation because they are cognitively unaware of how to account for the decision making process and mental state of others. There are certain careers in this world that require more empathy than others. For example, doctors and nurses should be able to empathize with patients because of the considerable difference between each one and their case. Situations vary greatly and not everyone comes from the same background with the same knowledge of healthcare and how to get help. This is something that needs to be empathized with and understood because a misunderstanding of this fact is what can lead to a widening of the empathy gap. When a doctor looks at a patient and sees someone from a certain background dealing with a persistent medical condition, that is not the time to begin creating assumptions or premature judgment because when enough doctors begin to view enough of the same negative things in patients of similar backgrounds through a pessimistic lens, people begin to slip through the cracks. Doctors may unknowingly begin to dismiss what a patient feels or doubt how much pain they are truly in because they are desensitized to their humane existence due to the creation of racist or all around negative idealizations. The empathy gap creates a culture of dismissive attitudes and unfair treatment from doctors because they will not take certain cases as seriously if they do not empathize with the patient. This is why it is beyond important for doctors to equally assess, understand, listen to, and treat every patient the same way. Allowing for stereotypes and pessimistic views about a certain group of people only creates a space for those people to suffer. These stereotypes hold no real truth in society and cannot offer any real medical answer to assist a doctor in treating a patient. Empathy is a required skill when people’s lives are at risk. 

     Black mothers and babies have a disproportionately high mortality rate because of the way that society dehumanizes and downplays their existence. There are several reasons as to why and how the mortality rate became what it is, but the main reason is centered around the fact that there is a specific disadvantage placed so harshly onto black women, that it stunts their growth and progression away from phenomenons that should have already been understood and solved due to the updated society that exists in today’s world. These problems still exist because there are people that exist in today’s world, but live and acknowledge the world with the views of someone living seventy years ago. The age old stereotypes, jokes, idealizations, theories, and customs must come to an end in order for black women, mothers, and children to be able progress past the impact racial bias has already made on them. Discrimination on every level plays a part in as to why this mortality rate has been so popularly perpetuated.

  Works Cited

“America Is Failing Its Black Mothers.” Harvard Public Health Magazine, 21 Dec. 2018,                        SSSCCwww.hsph.harvard.edu/magazine/magazine_article/america-is-failing-its-black-motRRRRRhers/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf.

Brown, DeNeen L. “'You've Got Bad Blood': The Horror of the Tuskegee Syphilis  RRRRRExperiment.” The Washington Post, WP Company, 16 May 2017, RRRRRwww.washingtonpost.com/news/retropolis/wp/2017/05/16/youve-got-bad-blood-thRRRRRe-horror-of-the-tuskegee-syphilis-experiment/.

Fauci, Cara A.” RACISM AND HEALTH CARE IN AMERICA: LEGAL RESPONSES RRRRRTO RACIAL DISPARITIES IN THE ALLOCATION OF KIDNEYS, RRRRRwww.bc.edu/content/dam/files/schools/law/lawreviews/journals/bctwj/21_1/02_TRRRRRXT.htm.

“Healthy Living.” OMama, www.omama.com/en/pre-pregnancy/healthy-living.asp.

Howard, Jacqueline. “Childbirth Is Killing Black Women, and Here's Why.” CNN, Cable RRRRRNews Network, 15 Nov. 2017, RRRRRwww.cnn.com/2017/11/15/health/black-women-maternal-mortality/index.html?utRRRRRRm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf.

Silverstein, Jason. “Why White People Don't Feel Black People's Pain.” Slate Magazine, RRRRRSlate, 27 June 2013, RRRRRslate.com/technology/2013/06/racial-empathy-gap-people-dont-perceive-pain-in-otRRRRRher-races.html.

Villarosa, Linda. “Why America's Black Mothers and Babies Are in a Life-or-Death RRRRRCrisis.” The New York Times, The New York Times, 11 Apr. 2018, RRRRRwww.nytimes.com/2018/04/11/magazine/black-mothers-babies-death-maternal-moRRRRRrtality.html?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf.

[twiceblackvelvet]

Five Years

requested, sort of.  

a/n; hi, i had half of this drafted and decided to finish it up just to give you all... something because i felt a bit guilty lmao. the original prompt was "I just wished you really meant it when you said you loved me back" but i decided to change it up a little bit, hope you enjoy! 

tw // mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of death (kinda?)

Did you know, the first cardboard box was created back in 1871? An Englishman produced it, likely by accident and it became a commercial success. But, he probably didn’t think that one of it’s most common uses today would be to transport your personal items from one place to another, more often than not whenever a negative situation arises. 

Someone loses their job? They pack their things up in a cardboard box. You break up with your girlfriend of the last five years despite her claiming she’d never hurt you but then ended up doing it all throughout your time together? Pack all of your memories into a cardboard box... or multiple.

The first year was the easiest, the best… everything seemed a lot more simple back then. Dinner at new, expensive restaurants that neither of you could truly afford or wine tasting bottles from far beyond either of you were even born. It wasn’t practical, nor was it smart to use up the majority of your pay slips for the month on such exuberant dates but it became a thing… your thing… together. Now, those same wine glasses the two of you purchased in hopes of one day having the bottle worth more than your life to go along with it are about to be split apart like the two of you. The reviews about the best nights of your life haunting your phone whenever you decide to scroll through it idly, anything to take your mind off her and the end of what was supposed to be your forever.

Back then, at least, it felt like your forever. The nights simply laughing at ridiculous jokes or watching those old Hollywood classics where the main protagonist is a burly man and his only purpose is to save the frail,  meek young woman from whatever is ailing her. You’d always mock how ridiculous the plot was and how neither of you needed saved from anything. The truth, however, is that you possibly needed saving from each other more than anything else.

The second year brought change. A new job for her meant far less time together than usual, but you both agreed to make it work, both agreed to put in the effort necessary to continue your relationship. It lasted, for a small while. But then meetings or appointments began to crop up seemingly out of nowhere and whilst it had begun to affect you both, neither of you bothered to address it. Smiling and waving away the nagging doubts in the back of your minds instead of facing it head on. Thinking about it now, you’re sure this is where the downfall began. It’s quite a feat you were both able to remain for another three years afterward.

You’d be lying to say that you didn’t think for quite some time that perhaps it wasn’t the job which was distracting Siyeon or taking up all of her attention, but rather that she had met someone else. Someone she had perhaps fallen for without realizing until it was too late. Someone she loved more than you. But, there were never any red flags about her being with anyone other than you, your life within the bedroom department remained steady and you’re certain she wouldn’t be capable of that if their were another person for her to sleep with.

The third year is a blur. Empty promises of adventures and quality time together that somehow always managed to blow up right before you both mere moments before you were due to finally have the space or freedom to be a couple. The late nights at the office becoming more frequent than not, sometimes neither of you would even see each other whatsoever for days on end. A coat would sometimes rest on the back of the living room chair to signal she was home, but physically, her presence was not anywhere to be seen in your shared apartment, in your mind and worst of all in your heart.

Communication began to dwindle and loneliness replaced the full feeling you used to feel deep down inside. You’re not even sure the two of you did speak at all at this point. She was merely a light breeze whisking in and out of your life whenever she pleased leaving behind a coldness that couldn’t possibly be cured. No amount of warmth could melt the icy barricade you’d built up around yourself.

The fourth year was full of trying. Real, honest trying. Both of you finally wising up to the fact that things were heading for disaster if nothing changed and fast. It wasn’t anywhere close to the first year, nor was it anything for either of you to be proud of. You’re sure if a relationship counsellor looked into the connection between you both they’d have told you things were dead in the water already, but you both tried. Even if that meant quick ten minute “dates” where eye contact couldn’t even be maintained. In reality, it was eating one meal together maybe once a month if you were lucky where she’d offer you small talk as if you were strangers meeting for the first time.

It wasn’t honest trying, nor was it real. It was a delusion. A façade. A lie to yourself in order to be able to keep some form of hold on this relationship that you refused to let go of for reasons you’re no longer sure about. Whatever the reason was at the time, you regret it now and wish you had just left when things went downhill the first time rather than putting yourself through extra heartbreak for someone who couldn’t care less about you, your relationship or sometimes even herself.

This year, everything fell apart. You could no longer lie to yourself about the fact that both you and Siyeon had managed to self-destruct within the confinements of your relationship. She began staying at random hotels, sometimes not even sleeping in a bed at all but rather resting wherever her head landed after a long night of drinking away her days work. That didn’t last, as she was eventually fired for not showing up, or showing up under the influence. You’re not even sure which as your brain had stopped processing her slurred words half-way through the conversation. She promised to find a new job and get back on her feet as soon as possible, instead, your savings account balance ended up being raided and left without a penny to feed her habit.

Despite every part of you screaming that you should leave and not think twice about it, a guilty feeling would always spring up into your head and chest whenever the fleeting thought crossed your mind. Fear consumed your every thought that she’d one day end up on the news having been found in a ditch unconscious or worse no longer alive.

Surprisingly, the breaking point finally came about from something far less dramatic. It’s what you needed otherwise it’s very possible that ten, twenty or even thirty years from now you could both be still stuck in the exact same position, moving around each other rather than with each other. Avoiding any and all confrontation in case it made her situation worse and putting up with all of the small things that have ended up building up a far larger pile of problems.

Nothing from this relationship has been fair on your heart or mind. It’s been a relentless battle everyday from the second your eyes open in the morning to when they close again after your mind has finished it’s final spin of thoughts, self-doubt, self-hatred as well as resentment for the person that the body lying mere inches away from your own belongs to. Well, when she does decide to return home and sleep beside you that is.  You never imagined a day would come where you hate Siyeon, despise her in fact, and yet whenever you see her perfectly sculpted face now that is slowly beginning to show the wares of her alcohol abuse, you’re left with inner torment and pain, rather than the  happiness you had once upon a time felt. Though, you’d be lying to yourself if you were to deny the fact you do still have a tiny amount of love left within you for her.

The weekend prior to the fall out, your family had decided to pay the two of you a visit. This alone was rather out of the blue and peculiar, however, you agreed to open up your home, if you can call it that, to them and Siyeon promised she would be there if only to keep up the appearance of a happy life together. But, as always, she was nowhere to be found. Not even a single text or phone call to explain why she had decided to not show up or why she had left you to try and explain away how she’s just “too busy lately” but that you’re both still as in love as ever. Her days are only ever busy with which hard liquor to pour down her throat next.

Nobody bought it. In fact, hiring someone in a clown suit to come and recite a monologue of known lies would have been more convincing than the performance you attempted to put on. It took all of one question to finally break the dam and unleash everything you’d been holding back from them all.

“Are you happy with her?”

The answer perched itself onto the tip of your tongue, threatening to spill out at any second, however, your eyes had other plans and instead allowed a steady stream of tears to douse your face. Everyone in the room remained stiff, stuck in place almost as if they were scared to breathe too loud out of fear it would break you further.

It was mid-week by the time she decided to finally return home. Your clothes neatly packed into a suitcase by the front door, everything else slotted into a cardboard box as best as possible. Old newspaper wrapped around some of the more fragile items, something you wish were able to protect your heart too. She stalked past all of it without even a second glance, nor did she bother to look your way as you sit on the edge of your seat hoping desperately that she’ll finally see how her actions have broken you both. Perhaps, offer an apology and make some actual promises that she will keep and the two of you could return to the happy place you once adored and cherished.

Instead, she moves toward the kitchen to grab a glass from the cupboard and pour herself some juice from the fridge. Her head resting in her hands as she sits down at the dining table. Her face looks tired and clothes unkempt. Whichever hole she decided to stay in this time, she hasn’t been taking care of herself that much is clear. But you’re far too enraged by her ignorance to offer her the last drop of sympathy remaining within you.

“They waited for you. They waited all weekend for you to show your face even just for a few seconds, and you couldn’t even do that for me.” Her head dropping further down onto the table, you hope out of embarrassment but you doubt it. “I asked you for one thing. Just one single thing, Siyeon.”

As you expected, she doesn’t speak. Her body moves every now and then from her breathing but nothing more. You’re not sure you even want her to say anything but the silence only further fuels the anger you’ve allowed to brew within you.

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t do us.” Her body finally sits itself up and her eyes lock onto your own immediately. “You’ve taken too much from me these last five years and I’m tired of it. Things were supposed to be different between us, you were supposed to be the person I spent the rest of my life with. Now, you’ll always be the person I wish I’d never met at all.”

You turn away from her before you say something that you may end up regretting, however, her hand latches itself around your wrist as she pulls you back toward her encasing your retreating body into a loose hug that you don’t reciprocate, instead allowing your hands to rest inside your coat pocket to make sure they don’t weakly hold her in return. Her shoulders slump upon realizing you aren’t going to offer her any lasting piece of affection and she nods her head in self-realization that things really are over as she pulls away.

"I love you. I need you to know that. I always loved you and I always will. I’m just not good enough for you, I never will be." She says, eyes dazzling from the light reflecting on her tears she’s holding back. She groggily sits back down in her seat, head once more resting her hands, however, they wipe away a few stray tears that managed to escape.

Without giving it a second thought you turn to leave one more, because you’re sure that if you had thought about it even for a second longer than she deserves, you’d end up falling back into her arms and back into the depressed state you’d been ignoring. Picking up the suitcase and opening the front door, you can’t help but whisper out words you know that Siyeon can’t possibly hear, but you need to let them out regardless in order to finally say goodbye to everything you’ve both been through.

“I wish I could believe you, but I love you too.”