#pining idiots in love is one of my favorite genres

[crystallizsch]

Prefect… Would you like me to teach you how to dance?

Oh, wow. Offering a private lesson, Jamil?

Don’t call it that-

♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ ~

♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♩ ♪ ~

♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ ~

♩ ♪ ~

♩ ~

they just kinda sorta lost track of time

[minisugakoobies]

The Purrfect Crime | HJS

Pairing: Joshua x GNReader (no agab)

Genre: fluff, friends to lovers, angst (tiny bit?), crack , non-idol!AU

Rating: T

Warnings: neighbor is implied to be a horrible pet owner but i promise there is no abuse here, catnapping, they're idiots and they're in love, so much pining, that trope where you have to kiss someone in order to fool someone else, apparently it's called a fake-out make-out thanks true tropes wiki, i don't even know where this sudden need to write a soft joshua came from but enjoy

Word Count: 3.2k

Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Fed up with the way your neighbor is keeping your friend/his ex's cat just to spite him, you hatch a plan to rescue the poor creature. Naturally, your best friend (and crush) Joshua is in for the mission.

Text Prompt: in italicized pink font in the story

A/N: It took me a while to find a text prompt for Joshua, but as soon as I saw this one, I knew it was his. Thank you to @minttangerines and @kiestrokes for taking a look at this one and reminding me that variety is good.

If you like this, please let me know! I’d love to hear what you think (but please be kind I’m fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

“Rrrrrow. Mmmmrowwwrrr.” 

“Oh, not again,” you mutter to yourself, rising from your couch to trudge to your back door. It’s starting early tonight.

You can barely see into the yard next door, but you spy a fluffy grey and white tail bobbing around. There he is. Your neighbor’s cat, yowling to be let inside, like always he does. The pitiful creature lets out another cry, and your heart twists. You know from years of living here that the jerk next door won’t be home for a while, so poor kitty is stuck outside in the rapidly cooling autumn air. Probably hungry for his dinner.

Well, you’ve had about enough of this. As you stand there, watching the cat’s tail swish in the air, the barest puff of an idea sneaks into your head. Before you can stop it, it blooms into a full-tilt plan. 

You’re already in motion when your phone buzzes with a text. Normally, you’d ignore it, but it’s your favorite person on the planet. 

Shua: whatcha doin

You: stealing my neighbor’s cat

Even though your best friend is famously down for any sort of drama, his response is so ridiculously fast that it makes you smile. 

Shua: scandalous

Shua: can I help

You send him a brief description of your plan, and he shoots back that he’s already on his way.

There’s a knock on your day exactly twenty minutes later, proof that he wasn’t lying. When you open the door, Joshua takes one look at you and points, nodding. “Yes, good, I’m glad we’re on the same page.” 

He’s referring to the fact that you’re both dressed completely in black, head to toe. The only difference between you is that he’s got a cute beanie shoved over his hair, a few strands hanging down in his eyes as he smiles at you. 

“I worried maybe I was taking this too seriously.” 

“Oh, no, this is very serious,” you inform him, leading him through your townhouse to the back door. “I’m really about to rescue Mr. Meepers from that asshole.” 

“Hell yeah, you a- wait, did you say Mr. Meepers?”

“Yes, I did, and yes, I know,” you laugh. 

Junhui, your horrible neighbor’s amazing ex-boyfriend, might not be the best when it comes to naming pets, but he’s a very sweet guy. While he and Mr. Asshole Next Door adopted the cat together, it was always very clear that he was Jun’s cat, and Jun’s cat alone. It breaks your heart to know that Mr. Meepers is being kept hostage solely for the purpose of punishing Jun for leaving that asshole.  

“He’s such a cute kitty, though, so friendly and playful, and Junhui’s really upset that he can’t get him back. That asshole won’t return his texts anymore. And the one time Jun showed up, he wouldn’t even answer the door.”

You pause to look out the window. Your yard and the one adjoining to the left are clear - or, at least as much as you can see over the fence seems empty.

“It’s bad enough that he won’t give Jun his pet back, but I know this jerk doesn’t take good care of him. He’s always locking him out in the yard. Doesn’t matter the time of day - I hear him out there all the time, crying and clawing at the patio door.” You frown. “Doesn’t matter what the weather’s doing and he doesn’t leave any water out for him, either. Just throws him outside and locks the door.”

As you ramble on, Joshua’s expression darkens. “I knew your neighbor was an asshole, but damn. That’s fucking cold.” He tips his head as another mournful “mrrrrooowww” sounds. “Is that him?” 

“Uh-huh.”

“He sounds so sad. How can that guy not care?”

“I dunno. Guess it’s easy to ignore innocent animals when you don’t have a heart.” You square your shoulders, steeling yourself for what you’re about to do. “Thanks to that loud-ass engine on his piece of shit car, I know when that asshole gets off work. He always stops at a bar on Friday nights, so he’ll be home later than usual, but we don’t have a lot of time to do this. Might not be a great idea to do it now, but…”

“But Mr. Meepers doesn’t deserve to suffer any longer. I get it.” Joshua squeezes your arm, bolstering you a little with his comforting touch. You smile at him gratefully, and he grins back before clearing his throat and turning to the window. “So. We’re gonna go out there and get him.”

“Right.” 

“Right. So… how exactly are we gonna do that?” 

“With some loose fence planks and these.” You reach into the pouch of your hoodie and pull out a small crinkled bag. “Mr. Meepers loves tuna treats. I toss them over the fence whenever I see him out there.” 

“Of course you do,” Joshua hums, shaking his head. He loves to tease you about how soft-hearted you can be, but you’d argue he’s just as gentle and kind as you are. He simply hides it better - except when he’s around you. You’ve yet to figure out if it’s intentional or if your friendship is the chip in his armor, allowing you to see through to the real him. 

“Well, Mr. Meepers doesn’t deserve to sit out there all hungry because that jerk doesn’t actually want him. All he wants is to hurt Jun.” There’s no real need to explain yourself, but you do it anyway. Joshua’s hand brushes your arm again and you inhale a calming breath. “Okay. Time’s not stopping, so let’s do this. Are you ready?” 

Joshua gives you a nod. “Let’s go.” 

Leaving your back door open a crack, in case you need to make a hasty retreat, the two of you set out on your mission. 

Your neighborhood is typically pretty quiet this time of evening. There’s the sound of kids playing in their yard a few doors down, and the usual buzz of traffic on the main road two blocks over, but nothing loud enough to cover your footsteps as you crunch through the grass and fallen leaves lining the fence that separates your yard from your neighbor’s. The moon is already out, and a few stars dot the sky, but you still need the flashlights on your phones to give you enough light to keep from tripping over anything in your path.

Joshua insists on being the one to try to pry the boards off the fence. It doesn’t take a lot of effort to pull a few away, a fact that makes him cluck his tongue. “This is so unsafe, YN. Your landlord needs to fix this.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know…” You’ve got a whole list of breaking or broken items for the landlord to repair. It’s the effort - and, especially, the time - that it takes to call and wait around for him to show up that you don’t have. “I’ll get around to calling him someday.” 

“I’m being serious,” Joshua insists, the concerned furrow of his brow evident even in the dim glow cast by his phone. “It’s not safe. What if someone gets in this way? Like a burglar? Or - or worse?”

“Well, they’ll have to get into asshole’s yard first to get to mine this way…” The odds of someone breaking into your home via this now person-sized hole in the fence are incredibly low. But you’re not going to argue about it at the moment. Not when you can hear the worry in your friend’s voice. “You’re right. I’ll call him next week. After we’ve made sure Mr. Meepers is safe with Junhui.”

“Good. It’s just… I can’t even think about what I’d do if something happened to you.” 

Joshua’s look of relief is enough to send warmth flooding through your chest, but combined with his words, it has your heart launching into frantic palpitations. Quickly, you duck through the space in the fence, needing to move away from your friend for fear that he might be able to feel the fluttering. You’ve spent the better part of two years hiding your crush on your friend. No need to give yourself away now. 

A bright light suddenly clicks on.

“Crap!” you gasp. In a burst of panic, you dive back towards the gap in the fence, only to find Joshua there. He lets out a surprised cry as you crash into him, knocking him flat on his back, another tiny “oof” forced from his lungs when you land on top of him. “Sorry!”

“What are yommmmph-”

“Shhhh!” 

You press your hand over Joshua’s mouth and glance over your shoulder. Your neighbor’s yard is still, nothing that you can see through the hole moving except for some unkempt bushes swaying in the chilly evening air.

You sigh. “Sorry. I forgot he’s got a motion detector light. I panicked.” 

Joshua hums, the brush of his lips tickling your fingers, and you remove your hand with an embarrassed laugh. Now that your fright has passed, you’re painfully aware of your current position, lying chest to chest, hip to hip on top of your best friend. His arms are locked solidly behind your back, cradling you to him as if he’s still trying to break your fall. 

It’s impossible to turn away when he looks at you, even though your heart is twisting itself into knots, so filled with longing that it’s tying you up inside. The longer you gaze into his eyes, the more your heart aches. 

Completely unaware of the inner turmoil you’re currently facing, Joshua grins. “Next time we steal someone’s pet in an act of righteous retribution, maybe I’ll be the one to gather the important intel first. Like motion lights.” He laughs, and you can feel it through your chest against his. Your heart twists again. “You can be the muscle, with a tackle like that.” 

“Shut up,” you groan, trying to gracefully slide onto the grass beside him, without success.  “I didn’t hit you that hard.” 

“I don’t know, I think I’m gonna be feeling that tomorrow.” He rubs his left shoulder gingerly, but he can’t fool you. You smack his other shoulder and he gives up the bit, laughing. “Fine, fine, you’re not the muscle. But I’m definitely the brains of this team.” 

“Pffft. If you’re anything, you’re the face.” 

“The what?” 

“You know. In a heist crew, the face.” You stand up, brushing some dry leaves from your hoodie. “The smooth talker? The one they send in to charm a target. That’s you.” 

“Oh.” Joshua’s eyebrow rises as he considers your words. “Um, thank you?” 

“You’re welcome. It’s a compliment.” 

“Is it?” He cracks a grin when you lightly punch his shoulder again. “Sounds like a weird way to call me manipulative.” 

“Don’t read into it so deep,” you state wryly. “I only meant that you’re, like, a fast thinker. And good at talking to people.” And incredibly charming. Joshua’s had you wrapped around his finger for ages. Thank god he doesn’t seem to know it. If he ever realized his true power over you, he’d be totally insufferable. And you’d still do whatever he wanted.

“Uh-huh. But if it’s all about me being good at talking, then why is it called the ‘face?’” 

He would ask that. 

“Um… most of the time the face is also really good-looking. It helps, y’know, to sell the lie if it’s coming from a pretty face.”

“Pretty?” His fingers fly to the bottom of his beanie again, tugging it down further. A nervous habit of his. 

”Well, yeah,” you say, shrugging. “You are very pretty.” 

You ride the surge of adrenaline in your veins forward and step through the hole into the yard next door before Joshua can react. 

It turns out to be a blessing that your neighbor has a motion light. His backyard is an obstacle course of rusty lawn furniture, neglected plants, and overgrown tufts of weeds. Carefully, you wind your way towards the patio, only to realize that Mr. Meepers is no longer sitting there.

“Mr. Meepers?” you call out in a hushed yell. “Where’d you go?” You must’ve spooked the cat with your wild dive earlier.

“He couldn’t have gotten out of the yard, could he?”

“I don’t know. I always figured he couldn’t or he would’ve run away by now.” Taking the treats out of your pocket, you give the bag a shake. “I brought you some of your favorite num-nums!”

“Your favorite num-nums?” Joshua echoes incredulously. 

“Shut up or I’ll tackle you again,” you mutter, catching his smirk out of the corner of your eye. “Here, Mr. Meepers!” 

You shake the bag of treats again and a bush near the edge of the patio rustles in reply. Mr. Meepers comes striding out, tail flicking happily as he brushes against your outstretched fingers. 

“Mmmrowww,” he chirps.

“Hi buddy,” you reply, scratching his ears lightly. “Here are your num-nums as promised.” Mr. Meepers nibbles on his treats as you stroke your fingers over his soft fur. “This is gonna be the last time I’ll give you these. You wanna know why? Hmm? Because we are busting you out of here and taking you home! Doesn’t that sound good?” 

The cat purrs loudly, nosing at the bag in your hand, and you cave, giving him a few more treats.

“No wonder Junhui’s been so sad. You’re just the cutest little thing, aren’t you?”

“So cute.” 

The words are whispered breathlessly, so quietly you’re almost not sure you heard them right. You glance up at Joshua, only to find your friend staring at you with a curious look on his face, an expression that you can’t quite name but it makes your pulse jolt regardless. You’re about to ask him if he’s okay when he suddenly straightens up, shaking his head a little.

“We, uh, we should probably not linger here,” he says, fingers clutching at his beanie. 

It almost defies belief how quickly his words jinx the two of you. You’re about to pick up Mr. Meepers when you hear it - the sound of your neighbor’s front door opening.

“Fuck, he’s home!” you hiss. Fast as you can, you scoop Mr. Meepers into your arms, thankful that he trusts you enough not to fight. Joshua holds out his hand to help you up and you stumble clumsily to your feet, apologizing when you bounce off of him. 

“Forget it, just go!” 

Joshua’s fingers lace through yours as the two of you scramble madly towards the hole in the fence. He reaches it first, but doesn’t go through, urging you on, his hands pushing gently on your back the whole time. As soon as you’re clear, he pops through behind you. 

Mr. Meepers chooses that moment to start squirming. He wiggles out of your grip somehow and drops delicately to the ground. For a split second you’re afraid he’s going to bolt through the hole, but instead he darts across your lawn and into your open door.

Before you can follow, you hear the loud creak of your neighbor’s back door opening. You and Joshua both flatten yourselves against the fence, desperate not to be seen. 

“Dinner time, dummy!”

There’s a spike of anger in your anxiety. You really hate your neighbor. He doesn’t wait long for the cat to respond to his call, slamming his screen door shut a few seconds later. 

A few excruciatingly long seconds after that, the light goes out. Everything is quiet again, save for your slight hyperventilating.

You blink a few times. “Oh my god, I thought we wer-”

The screen door next door opens again. 

“Yo, dummy, where are you? It’s time to come in!”

Your neighbor’s head pops up over the fence as he walks out onto his patio.

Joshua grabs the rotten planks and shoves them back into place. In his race to cover up the hole, though, he’s a bit too careless, and pinches his thumb. “Shit!”

You freeze. 

“Mr. Meepers?” the asshole next door calls out. “Stupid cat, what are you getting into?”

You can’t breathe. The threat of being caught now when you’re so close to victory makes your heart skip several beats in fear. Then Joshua’s gaze meets yours, and your heart positively leaps as he springs into action, pressing you against the fence. 

“Just go with it,” he whispers. He doesn’t give you a chance to process his words before he’s cupping your face, and then he leans in and kisses you. It’s a little hasty, a little rushed, like desperation propels him forward. But when his hands drop to your waist, bringing the two of you closer together, you relax into one another. The kisses turn slow, lingering.  

Your eyes slip shut as you breathe him in, citrus and cardamom, his cologne so warm and sweet, just like his kisses. He’s covering your body with his own like he’s shielding you. Protecting you. You could simultaneously shout for joy and cry. 

“What was tha- oh - oh shit, ‘m sorry - “ 

Your neighbor’s voice sputters into silence, and then a few seconds later, the light goes out. Joshua keeps kissing you, arms on either side of your head, but his caresses are more playful now, teasing nudges of his nose against your cheek, tiny pecks on your lips. 

“Joshua.” You speak his name intending to ask what he’s doing, but it comes out like a whine. You’re flustered and Joshua laughs, clearly enjoying it.

“I don’t think he’s looking anymore,” he deadpans, thumbs stroking your cheeks as he cups your face.

“Okay,” you reply, leaning in for another kiss. Joshua’s laughter vibrates against your mouth as you clutch at his hoodie, trying to keep him close. He manages to pull away anyway.

“We should probably get inside before the cat gets out.” 

With that gentle reminder of why you’re out in your yard in the first place, the fog around your head dissipates. You look at your back door and find Mr. Meepers sitting right inside, staring at the two of you. 

“Right.”Joshua’s right, but he also hasn’t let go of you, and that is seriously affecting your ability to think right now. You try to pull yourself together. “Um. Joshua.” 

“Yeah?” 

Countless ideas flit through your brain, the majority of them involving kissing him again. 

“Thank you. For saving us. That was, um. That was good. And, it was…” You’re burning up, the back of your neck heating with a heady mix of desire and embarrassment at how you’re reacting to Joshua’s touch.

“It was what?”

“It was just… really good,” you trail off dumbly in a tiny voice.

He smirks. “Told you I was the brains.” 

You feel slightly sheepish when he laughs again, but you're quickly reassured when he kisses you softly.

“C’mon,” he says, taking your hand again. “Let’s finish your mission and get Mr. Meepers back home. Then maybe I’ll show you what else I’m thinking.”

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐕𝐑𝐄

ㅤㅤmarcus pike x art historian!reader

genre: mutual pining, friends to lovers, forced proximity, smut, minors dni,

word count: 6k

summary: when a famous art collector is murdered, circumstances lead you to be temporary roommates with Marcus Pike.

warnings: oral sex (marcus receiving), marcus getting spoiled, some very mild angst, idiots in love

a/n: this work was commissioned by the lovely @sevillagrenada! thank you so much for your support and thank you so much for this delicious idea, I had a blast! ❤️‍🔥

** dividers made my the talented @saradika-graphics 💜💜💜

Another day, another handsome detective at your doorstep.

It’s been a few months since you and Marcus first got acquainted. He had visited you during one of your busiest hours, asking you for information on a recently stolen painting while you were desperately trying to sort out a curated disaster by one of the interns. It didn’t end well. You ended up shouting at him to leave you alone and even though you regretted your choice in showing how distressed you were, it was what it was. What surprised you later, however, was finding him in the early morning hours with two coffees and blueberry muffins. He apologized profusely and asked for a do-over. Something that you were more than eager to oblige. 

And the rest, what most art historians like you would say, was history. 

Now he visits you almost every morning if he can. Thanks to his charm, you were now considered the number one go-to person of the FBI when it came to art theft. A title you didn’t mind having. 

“A bit early even for you, don’t you think?” you say, handing him the folders you’d been carrying. You smile as he lets out an exaggerated “oomph” and go to open the door. “Don’t be a baby, detective.” 

“I just wanted to see you, what’s the harm in that,” he answers, following you inside. “I have the day off tomorrow so I won’t be visiting.” 

“How thoughtful of you.” 

“Good to see that someone appreciates it.” 

He takes a seat as you head for the coffee machine. You’d got it a month ago, saving Marcus the trouble of waiting in line every morning before work. You appreciate having this as an excuse for him to stop by every morning. Luckily, the museum was on his way to work, meaning he was more than happy to visit you. Sometimes it’s hard to forget that this relationship between you two is meant to be nothing other than friendship, a platonic thing. But every day you find your heart swelling more and more at the sight of him. It’s been too long since you felt close to someone. It’s been even longer since you ached for a person you know you shouldn’t ache for. 

“Are you working on something with Remedios Valo?” When you turn you see him hunched over your desk, his eye meet yours, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Sorry, all these books were just sprawled here. I couldn’t help but look.” 

The coffee machine comes to life, the aroma mixing in with the scent of books. 

“That’s alright,” you answer, lips feeling numb. “And yeah, Olivier is adding one of her works to his collection so he wanted me to take a look.” 

“Which one is he buying?” 

You know he absolutely despises the idea of art being bought, hidden from the rest of the world to be a decoration. You hear it in the drop of his voice.  

“Les Feuilles Mortes.” His gaze falls back to the table. “Dead leaves. The one with the woman with orange hair and green dress.” 

He hums when he finally sees it on the page, “It’s a nice one.” 

“It is. It’s one of my favorites.” 

You bring the two cups of steaming coffee. His eyes find yours as you place them down, taking a seat. “You must be excited then,” he states. “To be seeing it in person.” 

“I’m just happy it’s going to someone I know will take care of it.” 

“I did meet him once. Seemed like a decent enough guy.” 

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, “You really hate art collectors don’t you?” 

“With a passion,” a soft smile touches his lips. “But I’ll make an exception for you.” 

You shake your head, smiling into your cup as you bring the steaming liquid to your lips. He’s always like this. Making sure just how much you matter, making you feel cherished, it’s a contrast to how you feel most of the time. Your eyes fall on the painting printed onto the glossy paper. Everyone interprets art differently. In this particular piece, you see loneliness but also a peaceful serenity. The shadow bowing to the woman, them being connected with a piece of blue yarn that she’s holding. The fact that it’s blue and not read also piques your interest. It makes you think it’s not something that is forced, it’s not the fates that brought them together but something else. Something more intimate and free. 

“So, when are you seeing this stunning artwork in person?” 

“Tonight.” 

Marcus already knows that today is going to be a long day. 

He knew it as soon as he entered his office, all fellow agents gathered in one place, murmuring. They parted like the Red Sea when he came through. That’s when the captain told him that extinguished art collector Olivier Balmaceda was found dead. Murdered. 

All he could think of was you. How excited you were to see him, and the painting, tonight. How Olivier was your friend and what would this mean for the investigation? Everyone here knew you, adored you. You being close to the murder victim certainly wasn’t good. He didn’t want you to be involved in any way, not even as a consultant. 

He steps out of the unmarked FBI sedan, his leather shoes echoing against the pavement as he approaches the crime scene. His partner, Tim, follows suit, both agents taking in the scene that awaits them.

The art collector's mansion looms before them, an opulent testament to a life steeped in appreciation for creativity. The air carries a faint scent of antique wood and the unmistakable aura of the art world. As they enter the expansive gallery, it becomes clear that Olivier Balmaceda's passion for art extends far beyond mere aesthetics.

The crime scene, bathed in the soft glow of gallery lights, is surreal. Olivier lies in the heart of his sanctuary, surrounded by the very beauty that defined his existence. The juxtaposition of life and death against the backdrop of artistic brilliance is haunting.

Tim glances at Marcus, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. Together, they navigate the intricate dance of art and tragedy. The paintings, sculptures, and tapestries bear witness to the final act of a man whose life was intricately interwoven with the world he cherished.

As Marcus approaches Olivier's lifeless form, he can't help but feel the weight of the art that envelops them.

The art collector's mansion is cloaked in an air of somber anticipation as Marcus's focused gaze is drawn back to Olivier's lifeless form, nestled among the artworks that had once been a source of joy. The forensic team, adorned in pristine white suits, moves with meticulous precision, weaving through the crime scene like careful curators preserving a delicate masterpiece.

"Bullet entry at the back of the head. Looks like a single gunshot," Marcus hears one of them say, his voice a measured cadence amid the artistic silence.

Marcus nods, absorbing the gravity of the information. The team proceeds, each member contributing to the careful orchestration of documentation. His path takes him to the abstract painting, now surrounded by the scrutinizing eyes of forensic experts.

"We're scanning for any hidden messages or anomalies. This painting could hold clues.”

"Keep me posted," Marcus replies.

His attention turns to the delicate sculpture, now cocooned in an evidence bag. Tim approaches, his words a whisper against the backdrop of the gallery.

"Looks like they're treating the whole gallery as a crime scene. Anything stand out to you?" Tim inquires, his voice a muted harmony in the investigative symphony.

"Not yet. We need to dig deeper, find the connections between Olivier and whoever did this," Marcus responds, his words a subtle melody of determination.

The investigation shifts towards Olivier's desk, adorned with sketches and notes – a tableau of potential motives. They meticulously examines the papers, unveiling a narrative hidden within the inked strokes.

"Possible motive here. Let's see if Olivier was working on something that could've angered someone," suggests the expert, their words punctuating the air with a promise of revelation.

Acknowledging their findings, Marcus's thoughts churn with possibilities. Just as the investigation prepares to move to another sector of the mansion, his discerning eyes catch sight of a sketchbook nestled on a nearby shelf. A flicker of curiosity sparks within him, prompting the donning of gloves.

"Hold on a moment," Marcus interjects, a pause that reverberates through the dance of forensic activity.

The team halts, their collective gaze directed towards Marcus as he delicately retrieves the sketchbook. Its presence is unassuming, a silent witness to the unfolding drama. As Marcus flips through its pages, the sketches reveal a familiar artistic style, each stroke a brush with recognition.

"Wait... these look like—" Marcus begins, his words a murmur to the sketches that come to life beneath his fingertips.

Tim glances over, an inkling of recognition in his eyes.

"Isn't that—"

"Yeah. It's hers," Marcus confirms, closing the notebook.

So much for not getting you involved.

“Captain, you can’t be serious.” 

Your eyes are drawn to Marcus, his voice holding the tone of nothing other but disbelief. Your eyes turn to the floor. Olivier is dead. Murdered. And the only proper evidence to connect the dots of what happened is your sketchbook. The sketchbook you could’ve sworn you left in your office. The sketchbook that you only kept to yourself other than Marcus and a couple of more trustworthy people. One of them being Olivier.

You close your eyes. It’s exhausting to breathe. You focus on how your nostrils flare and let it all out through a small gap between your lips. Marcus inches closer, hand firm against the small of your back. 

“I’m dead serious, Agent Pike,” Captain Lana answers, her voice calm yet cold as ice. “Until this entire case is solved, she’s on house arrest and under your care.” 

“Just because we found her sketchbook does not mean she’s a suspect—” 

“Agent Pike,” her voice cuts through the tension in the room. A sharp shudder crawls up your spine, your skin prickling with attention as you open your eyes. Despite her tone, she doesn’t look mad. “You will do what is best for our consultant. As of right now, she is linked to the case of one of the biggest art collectors for reasons we do not know. The best thing we can do is keep an eye on her and protect her.” 

His mouth slams shut, his jaw clenched. His hand deserts your back and in that moment, all you can feel is guilt. Guilt of him being forced to do something he clearly doesn’t want to do. 

To share his home. 

“I understand,” he answers curtly, turning on his heel. “Let’s go get your things.” 

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking to you, shooting Captain Lana a glance, you follow him out of the office. 

Marcus hasn’t said a single word during the entire drive. Even when you finally parked, he just took your bags and led you up the stairs to his apartment. Your heart felt as if it was shattering into a million tiny pieces. The poor organ was already weighted down by your friend's death, and now one of the closest people to you couldn’t even look at you. 

He drops your bags to the floor and you slowly shut the door. You don’t even have it in you to look around, not that it would matter, you’ve already been here before. You doubt anything changed. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out before he can say anything else. “God, Marcus, I’m so sorry.” 

“For what?” 

His hands are on you in an instant, lifting your downturned gaze. You blink away the tears, breath catching in your throat as you meet his eyes. It’s so easy to get lost in them. You could live an eternity there. “For . . for having to stay here. I know it’s inconvenient.” 

“Oh, sweetheart no, no. You could never be an inconvenience. I’m. . . I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I should’ve checked in on you. None of this is your fault understand. None of it,” his thumbs draw slow circles around your cheeks, the knot in your throat growing by the second. “And for all it’s worth, I’m happy that you’re here. I would be worried sick knowing that you’re alone.” 

Suddenly you’re being pulled into his chest, your senses completely enveloped by his scent. He gingerly cups your head from behind, holding you there, allowing you to disappear from the world for a while. 

The first tear escapes unexpectedly. It’s immediately absorbed into his shirt and the rest follows. He doesn’t try to hush you, doesn’t try to get you to stop. He allows you to break down completely. You cry and cry, until there’s nothing left anymore. Only then does he pull back, lifting your gaze to him once more. 

“Feeling better?” 

“Y-Yeah. Thank you, Marcus.” 

He shakes his head, “I’m not doing anything you should be thankful for. This…this is what friends do.” 

That’s right. Friends. 

Your eyes sting when you blink, a forced smile tugging at your lips, “Yeah, friends.” 

You’re almost certain that you’re imagining it, but you swear the crease between his brows deepens with your answer. 

The soft glow of the TV screen bathes the room as Marcus settles onto the couch beside you. “Really? That’s what you want to watch?” 

Marcus raises a brow as he looks down at you. You’re wrapped in a blanket, looking as if the two of you have been living together for years. He loves how you’re already comfortable with the living situation. He wished he could have this in better circumstances without an ongoing murder investigation, but he’ll take what he gets. 

“I haven’t started the new season yet, it’ll be fun.” 

“It’s a murder mystery. Are you sure?” 

You snort, “I know the plot of Only Murders In The Building, Marcus. No need to remind me.” 

As the first episode begins, the room is filled with the intriguing soundtrack of the show. Marcus watches the characters unfold on the screen, but his attention keeps drifting back to you. The play of emotions on your face, the way you get caught up in the plot – it's more captivating to him than any murder mystery.

Gradually, you lean into him, seeking comfort in the shared moment. The warmth of your presence seeps into Marcus's consciousness, and he finds himself entranced by the way you become absorbed in the show. Unconsciously, his arm drapes around your shoulder, the gesture protective yet tender.

In the semi-darkness of the room, Marcus grapples with his own emotions. The line between friend and something more blurs as he navigates the uncharted territory of his feelings. As you snuggle closer, he can feel the gentle rhythm of your breath, the subtle rise and fall of your chest.

A flicker of uncertainty crosses Marcus's mind. Does this closeness mean the same to you as it does to him? He wonders if you sense the subtle shift in the dynamics between you. The arm around your shoulder, a silent invitation, speaks volumes, but Marcus Pike remains in that delicate space between uncertainty and the unspoken desire for something more. The murder mystery on the screen becomes a mere backdrop to the complex enigma of emotions unfolding between two souls entangled in the intricacies of life and love.

Marcus's heart races as he lets his hand linger on your waist. He can feel the warmth radiating through the fabric of your shirt, and he wonders if you can feel the heat of his touch as well.

He watches your face, searching for any sign of discomfort or hesitation, but all he sees is the same intensity and focus on the TV. It both thrills and confuses him – is it possible that you can be so oblivious to the way he feels?

But as he watches you, he notices the faint hitch in your breath when his hand moves slightly, as if you're aware of his touch but trying to hide it. It only fuels the growing attraction between them, and Marcus can feel himself getting more and more drawn in.

His mind is filled with images of how he wants to touch you, and he can barely contain the urge to lean in and brush his lips against your neck. He wants to feel your skin against his, to explore every inch of your body.

The tension in the room becomes palpable, and Marcus can feel his heart racing. He looks over at you, and for a moment, he thinks he sees a flicker of desire in your eyes. But just as quickly, it disappears, and you go back to watching the movie without a second glance.

His hand moves even closer to yours, brushing against your fingers lightly. He can feel the heat emanating from your body, and he knows that you're just as affected by the electric chemistry between them.

His mind is clouded with desire, and all he can think about is kissing you, touching you. But he knows he needs to be patient. He can’t just make a move and potentially ruin the friendship you have.

But as the episode goes on, Marcus can barely pay attention anymore. All he can focus on is you, and the way your body moves slightly with each scene. He can feel himself getting harder with each passing moment, and he knows he needs to do something to release the tension.

Without thinking, his hand moves to your thigh, tracing small circles on your skin. He can see your breath hitch and your eyes flutter closed for a split second before you regain your composure.

He leans in closer to you, his lips just inches away from your ear. "Is this okay?" he whispers.

Marcus relaxes when you nod, eyes still glued to the screen. He knows you want to turn to him, to witness his feelings lingering in his eyes but he also knows that you can’t for the same reason why he can’t tell you how he feels. Fear. Fear of rejection. Of loss of a friendship.

So, his hand on your thigh is as far as he’ll go. Soothing you with the simplest of touches. 

The credits roll and the episode ends, Marcus can't help but feel a lingering sense of longing. He knows he needs to push these feelings aside and focus on the case, but he also can't deny the strong connection he feels with you.

As you stand up to turn off the TV, Marcus suddenly reaches out and takes your hand in his, surprising both of you. The air between them is heavy with unspoken words and tension, but they both know this isn’t the time or the place.

For now, they'll focus on solving the murder and catching the killer. But Marcus can't shake the feeling that this shared moment was the beginning of something more – something that could change everything.

It’s been almost two weeks now since you moved in with Marcus. And other than Olivier’s murder, things have been. . . peaceful. He’s been doing everything for you. You’ve never been taken care of to this extent before. It made you feel bad in a way, as if you were a burden to him and now he felt inclined to take care of you just because of the circumstances. 

However, you couldn’t ignore the tension either, the chemistry. Almost every night you thought of when the two of you watched TV. How close the two of you were. You often find yourself thinking about how differently that night could’ve ended. Only if you were brave enough, then maybe the friendship could’ve escalated into something more. 

While heating leftovers for the both of you from last night, the door clicks open. You expect to see his smile, the same question on his lips asking how your day was—but all you can see in his eyes is exhaustion. He forces a smile when he sees you, then silently heads to his room. Your lungs cave in on itself. Your body buzzing with worry, you look down at the barely heated leftovers. He deserves something more. Something fresh. 

So, as you quickly head down the hall to check on him, you order his favorites. You come to a halt at the door, heart beating in your throat, you knock. 

“I’ll be right there,” he says, almost apologetically, which makes you feel even worse. 

“I just wanted to check if you’re alright. Can I. . . Can I come in?” 

You’re about to head back to the living room when the door slowly opens. His tie hangs loosely around his neck, the first three buttons of his shirt wide open, exposing skin. You barely manage to tear your gaze away. He looks vulnerable, defeated. 

“I’m okay,” he clears his throat. “I promise.” 

You ignore what he says and take a step forward, forcing the both of you inside the bedroom. It smells of cinnamon. “I ordered us some food from that place you like. We have some time to relax.” 

“Relax?” 

You let out the breath you’ve been holding and trap his face between your hands. You want to make him feel good. You want to pamper him. At least this one time, you want to do something for him instead. You know what his answer is going to be if you ask him about his day—he’ll brush you off, because it’s the case you’re involved in. The murder of your friend. 

“Let me make you feel good, Marcus.” 

His eyes widen, lashes fluttering, his lips part, “You don’t have to do that.” 

“I know I don’t have to but I want to.” You quickly add when you see the hesitation growing in his eyes. “Please.” 

You notice the hollow in his cheek, the way his jaw moves as he chews on the inside. Your heart beats wildly in your chest. After what feels like hours, his head jerks in a small nod, “Okay.” 

Marcus gently falls onto the bed and you drop to your knees, taking a place between his spread legs. You can feel his eyes on you. His gaze intense as you fumble with his belt. You tug down his pants along with his underwear, his hips slightly lifting to make it easier for you. His cock is still soft. It makes a certain type of hunger grow inside you. Placing both hands on his thighs, you dip down, taking him into his mouth. He sharply inhales, cock twitching over your tongue. It doesn’t take him long to grow in your mouth, and suddenly swallowing him down proves to be harder than you thought. 

Your nostrils flare as you attempt to swallow him down, your nose brushing against the soft curls. His hand gently cradles the back of your head, and when you look up you see his head falling back, his brows furrowed as he breathes heavily through his nose. 

Parting away, you suck the base of his cock, your tongue swirling. His hips jerk and a moan rips from his throat. “That—that feels good,” he swallows. 

“You like it slow?” you say, lips moving against sensitive skin. “Tell me how you like it. Show me.” 

“You’re doing great sweetheart, just do it how it’s best for you,” he lets out a breathy chuckle. “I’m not picky.” 

Brows knitting together, you pull away and fix him a half-hearted glare. You wrap your fingers around and begin to stroke him, witnessing the flex of his thighs. “I want to do it how you like it,” you state. “Show me or I’ll stop.” 

Your lips curl as you hear him whine. It’s such a beautiful sound. 

“Fine.” 

He drags you back down to his cock, your hand falling away. You open your mouth to take him once more, thinking that he wants to fuck your mouth, but instead, he presses your lips to the side of his cock. You feel the heat of him, the bulging of his veins. 

“Wrap your lips,” he rasps and when you do, he starts to move your head up and down. 

You let out a muffled moan, the vibrations sending shivers down Marcus’ spine. His movements are slow, almost as if he’s fucking himself deep into you—almost as if he’s been thinking about this for months. Your head bobs up and down, your lips pursed around him tightly. You hear him grunt above you, and you can tell that he’s struggling to keep himself in control. 

“Put your hands back on my thighs,” Marcus commands, and you do so without hesitation. “I want to feel the bite of your nails.” His thighs are shaking beneath your touch, and you can feel the coiled tension inside him, just waiting to snap. You do as he asks, digging your nails slightly into the flesh. Another whimper falls for him, a sounds desperate and needy at the same time. He pulls up and finally slips himself into your warm mouth, your eyes water as he pushes you down, taking him whole. 

“You’re gonna make me come,” Marcus grunts, his voice punctuated by the wet sounds of your mouth on his cock. 

You keep up the pace, eager to please him. You can feel his cock growing harder and harder inside your mouth, and you can tell that he’s close. You swirl your tongue around him, pressing your lips even tighter around him. 

“Fuck,” Marcus mutters, his hand gripping your hair tightly. “I’m gonna—” 

Before he can finish his sentence, he releases into your mouth with a deep groan, his hips bucking up into your face. You eagerly take him in, swallowing around him as he spills, hot come trailing down your throat. He lets out a heavy sigh, his body going limp as he comes down from his orgasm. 

You sit back on your heels, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Marcus looks at you with admiration and slight embarrassment, his cheeks peppered with a faint shade of red. 

“Sorry, that was quick,” he murmurs, tugging you up and pulling you to his lap. “Now it’s your turn.” 

He leans towards your lips but you stop him by pressing two fingers, they’re soft. “We can think about me later,” you say, despite the inside of your panties being an absolute wet mess. “I just wanted to make you feel good.” 

“I want to make you feel good too,” he objects, nipping at your fingers. “Don’t you. . . I thought you wanted me.” 

The guilt in his eyes is back and your hand drops away from his lips. He’s holding you tight as if you might disappear.  

“I do,” you answer tentatively. “But I don’t want you to jump into this thinking you have to. I don't want you to do anything you might regret.” 

“Regret?” he shakes his head. “What does that even mean? I’m not jumping into anything. I’m not confused if that’s what you’re worried about,” his arms around you tighten, and with that, you know you’ve said the wrong thing. “You just sucked my cock—are you telling me that was out of pity? Gratitude?” 

You cut him off, “N–No. . .” 

“Then what was it?” his voice drops dangerously low, eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and hurt. “I’m one hundred percent here. It has nothing to do with the case. And for you to do something just because you felt bad for me. . . I thought we were finally getting somewhere after all of this.” 

“Marcus—”

“I think I want to be alone right now,” he turns his head away from you but doesn’t do anything to push you off of him. Your apology dies in your throat, your mouth suddenly dry. You slowly move away, the taste of his come still in your mouth as you contemplate what to do. What to say. 

But whatever you were planning evaporates with the ring of the doorbell.  

You’re sitting on the couch when Marcus comes home and sits on the armchair right across from you. You’re eyes slowly shift from your phone to meet his gaze, he continues to stare down, his thumbs thrumming over his thighs. 

It’s been an awkward couple of days after the argument you two had. Neither of you were brave enough to broach the subject, However, that didn’t mean what happened didn’t haunt you in the dead of night, both in a bad and a good way. 

“It’s done.” 

His words send a chill down your spine, your muscles tightening, “What’s done?” 

“The case. We found who murdered Olivier. . . and how your notebook got there.” Marcus takes a deep breath, his eyes finally meeting yours as he begins to unravel the mystery that has been hanging over your heads like a storm cloud.

"Olivier's murder... it was someone close to him. Both rival and friend," Marcus starts, his voice heavy with the weight of the revelation. "Turns out, his friend had been eyeing the same collection for years. When Olivier outbid him for that prized painting, it pushed him over the edge."

You feel a knot form in your stomach, a mixture of shock and sorrow swirling within you. Olivier, with his vibrant personality and passion for art, didn't deserve such a fate.

"And my notebook...?" you prompt, needing to understand how your own belongings ended up tangled in this tragedy.

Marcus sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Olivier... he wanted to show your sketches to one of his friends. He thought you had real talent and he was planning on gifting you that painting."

Your heart sinks at the realization. Olivier, you’re going to miss him. Marcus wraps his arms around you, offering comfort and support as the weight of the emotions you've been suppressing finally spills over. You lean into him, the warmth of his embrace a soothing balm for the wounds of the past few days. His touch is both reassuring and grounding, reminding you that you're not alone in this tumultuous journey.

"I'm here," he murmurs softly, his fingers gently tracing comforting patterns on your back. "It’s over now. You can return to your life and begin to heal."

“Heal?” you blin at him, lips parting. “Return to my life? What does that even mean? We can’t go back to normal Marcus. Not after everything. . . I—” You swallow, the knot thick in your throat. “I care about you, Marcus. I care about you deeply and I just want you to know that. I don’t want you to think it was a one-time thing. Ot that I did it because of the circumstances. I did it because I wanted to. And I wanted to long before any of this happened.” 

As your heartfelt confession hangs in the air, Marcus's eyes soften, his expression reflecting a mixture of relief and affection. Without hesitation, he leans in, closing the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. It's a moment of shared vulnerability, a silent exchange of emotions that speaks volumes more than words ever could.

The warmth of his touch ignites a spark within you, a reassurance that despite the challenges you've faced, your connection remains unbroken. In this intimate embrace, you find solace and hope for the future, knowing that whatever trials may come, you'll face them together.

As the kiss deepens, the weight of the past few days begins to lift, replaced by a sense of renewal and possibility.

Marcus's hands move to your waist, pulling you onto his lap as he deepens the kiss. You feel his body pressing against yours, igniting a fire within you. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as your fingers tangle in his hair.

His lips move fervently against yours, conveying the unspoken emotions that have been building between you for weeks. You can feel his heart beating against your chest and it's a comforting reminder that you're not alone in this moment.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a tingle in their wake. You let out a soft gasp, arching your neck to give him better access. His hands roam over your body, his touch setting every nerve alight. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”

Your fingers move to his shirt, desperate to rid him of the barriers separating your skin.  His lips trail down your neck again, moving to your shoulder, his hands roaming freely over your body. You let out a soft moan, arching your back as his hands reach your waist, pulling your shirt off. The cool air hits your skin but it's nothing compared to the heat radiating between you two.

Marcus and you remove each other's clothes. Your hands roam hungrily over his bare chest, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your touch. He moans softly, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine.

His hands move to your back, unhooking your bra and gently sliding it off. Your bare chest presses against his, skin against skin, and the sensation sends sparks of pleasure through your body. Your lips meet again, his tongue moving alongside yours, his hands roaming lower to your waist and down to your hips, pulling you closer.

You push him down to the couch, your hands reaching for his jeans. With ease, you undo the button and slide them off, revealing his toned legs and the bulge in his boxers. Your fingers trail down his stomach, feeling his muscles contract under your touch.

He flips you over, his lips moving down your neck and to your chest. With a flick of his tongue, he takes one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, causing you to arch your back and let out a soft moan of pleasure. His hands reach down, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them off your legs.

As his lips continue to travel down your body, his fingers slide into your underwear, eliciting a gasp from you. You can feel the heat and wetness building between your legs, the tingling sensation increasing with every touch.

In one swift movement, he removes your underwear, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable to his touch. But with Marcus, you feel anything but vulnerable. In his embrace, you feel safe, loved, and desired.

And you know that is something that will never change. 

[unforth]

i don't know if you are still into 2ha? but what would you say if someone asked you what makes 2ha stand out? It's full of tropes that have been done before and there is nothing new. it's full of cliches according to some people. So, what makes it stand out?

I am still into 2ha, I'd consider it one of my top fandoms right now.

I'll own I find this whole ask rather odd? It implies that novelty is a. possible and b. what I'm looking for in a book.

For a... Name me a book that isn't full or tropes, name me a book that isn't full of "nothing new," name me a book that isn't full of cliches. Enjoyable books aren't ~original~, and imo original is a myth. It's about how the ideas are strung together, not about them being fresh and different and new.

For b... look. I'm almost 42 years old. I've been reading a ton since I was 8. I've read a l.o.t. over the years. And I've come to learn the things I love in characters and books.

Give me a main character (or, in 2ha, BOTH main characters) who thinks they're worthless and will give everything they have to save an innocent stranger. Give me archetypes of self-sacrifice and martyrdom and low self-esteem and adoration and obsession cooked so deep into their bones that it extends over multiple life times. Give me that adoration reciprocated but the pining, oh, it is mutual for these idiots who should be and will be lovers. I'll eat that up every time. Give me someone who thinks they're unlovable but loves the world anyway, and give me someone who loves them so much they'll tolerate the claws.

Give me epic length I can sink my teeth into. Make the plot sprawling, the side characters lush, the world developed. It's okay if some parts drag a little, it's hard to keep momentum over an epic, and one person's "that dragged" is another's "that rocked." Anyway, the slow bits makes the more exciting parts that much more thrilling.

Give me whump, and hurt/comfort, and pain that burns the soul. Make the characters deep and compelling and then confront them with nothing but bad choices, force them to pick... and then see them pick each other, everytime, even in the midst of the darkest night imaginable. Give me unreliable narrators and angst and characters with nobility that shines like the sun even when they're covered in shit.

I adored this kind of story when I was 12 and I started the Wheel of Time and fell in love with Rand al'Thor, and I adore this kind of story now, in Tian Guan Ci Fu and The Husky and His White Cat Shizun and Modu. The patterns in the kinds of books I enjoy most, the ones that make me feral and obsessed, are very consistent, and being Old means I know what those patterns are and I can seek out books that have them, and recognize them when I find them again. It's happening with the book I'm reading now, in fact, and I can feel the feral obsession growling in delight in my brain, lmao.

Ya know how some people go into fanfiction because they love a character and want to see iterations of them over and over a little to the left? Well, that's why I started fanfic, and through fic I found a genre of original fiction that does that for me. I want similar character archetypes in endless iterations of stories, and danmei gives that to me, and that's why I'm up to my nose in danmei fandoms, and why the specific ones I like best are my favorites.

What stands out about 2ha, for me, is that it fits my taste in character archetypes and plot type. If someone out there shares that taste, they'll probably also love it. If they don't share that taste, they may not, but they may, because it's a complex enough book to cater to more than just one specific type of taste. Someone who likes OP control fantasies will also probably like it, for example. I wouldn't recommend it to everyone, and that's not a bad thing. Stories that appeal to everyone tend to be shallow and not attract deep obsession, having sacrificed the depth to draw a wider audience.

Anyway, anon...you phrased this like an anti. 80% of your ask is trashing the book on false premises about tropes and cliches. I genuinely can't tell if this is meant as a troll or if it's sincere, but I've answered as if it's sincere. But regardless, you'll be a lot happier as a reader if you forget originality. Books aren't original. Find an author, genre, series, whatever, that fits your taste, and frolic there. That's the route to happy reading.

I've found mine. I hope you find yours.

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

Hallmark/Romcom Recs

This week, we have seven recs for fics that are fluffy, cozy, and maybe even a little Christmassy. Check them out beneath the cut, and as always - comment and kudos if you like them!

LOVE & OTHER ENCHANTMENTS by LivThael (2092, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

The trailer for the hottest romcom in Wildemount: a breathtaking tale of books, ambition, and totally unexpected out-of-left-field love.

Reccer says: If you only ever read one modern romcom AU, let this one be it. It's a loving parody of its genre and had me in stitches from start to finish!

(If One Could Be Home) They'd Be Already There by DotyTakeThisDown (25820, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

When Caleb stays in the on-campus apartments, he expects to be alone for winter break. He doesn't expect to run into Essek Thelyss in the laundry room.

Reccer says: A great college AU and one that takes place during the winter holidays. Sweet and fun, and one that I come back to

it's never too late by idontreallylikebutterflies (6767, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek and Caleb had a secret relationship in high school. Then Essek moved away, only coming home for the holidays, where he'd hook up with Caleb again.

Reccer says: It's like a smidge less fluffy than a hallmark movie, but it's holiday related and also still very much a romcom premise. Sweet and a little angsty, with a lot of pining idiots

All the Way Home by Dragonslaeyr (18418, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek Thelyss is ready to work through Christmas, but one wayward passenger might just be enough to change his mind.

Reccer says: A classic - great banter, great atmosphere, and a cute Holiday Shadowgast AU. Also, Essek as an uber driver - amazing

no place to go (let it snow!) by Dragonslaeyr (20586, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: None

Caleb gets stuck at the airport during the holidays. He meets Essek, and they spend the night exploring the airport and getting to know each other

Reccer says: I liked it!

And then two recs for the next one: a winter's crest detour by jaskofalltrades (22873, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb and Essek meet on a plane during Winters Crest holiday and end up getting to know one another.

Reccer 1 says: This is one of my favorite feel good fics to read! I love the interactions and chemistry between the two. In the end love wins! Reccer 2 says: I liked it!

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with fics featuring Rescues!

[nerdanel01]

Emmrook at the Opera

In honor of Sylvia confirming Emmrich’s occasionally into a “bold Orlesian opera” (one of the most exciting things to ever happen to me), I wanted to put together this little post on resources for anyone who might be curious about the genre, or want to incorporate it into their fic writing.

It’s going to be a little USA-heavy because I do, unfortunately, live in the land of hamburgers and assault rifles, but the silver lining is that I also live in the country that created this:

The Metropolitan Opera House in NYC has to be one of the largest opera houses in the world, at least partially because of the fact that it was built much more recently than many of the old ones. When it’s full, it fits over four thousand people in it. I once took a tour of the backstage with one of my best friends who told me, partially in jest, “Wow, I’ve never seen you look at your boyfriend the way you’re looking at this building.” I broke up with that boyfriend like a year later, but the Met is my love for life. I love the red velvet on the walls and the seats. I love the giant Marc Chagall paintings. I love the sputnik chandelier. I love the peeling gilt gold on the ceilings, which I often have a perfect view of from my seats in the nosebleeds. The Met is my boo. 

Onto the resources!

If you just want to watch a movie that FEATURES opera but is not specifically an opera:

Moonstruck - Cher tries to invite her fiance’s brother (Nicholas Cage) to her wedding. Can you imagine what happens to Cher and Nicholas Cage next. Features the both of them on a date at the Met Opera (my beloved!) and excerpts from La Boheme. One of my all time fave movies, I identify deeply with Cher’s grandfather in the film. 

Falling for Figaro is a pretty cute romcom about a finance chick who quits her job to pursue her dream of becoming a soprano. 

And listen like the singing in Phantom of the Opera (2004) is. Not great. (I’m sorry Gerard Butler, I loved you when I was twelve.) But the opening sequence of the rolling camera pulls through the opera house as the overture plays will haunt me for the rest of my life. 

If you’ve never seen an opera before, and want to watch one (either online or in person), I recommend starting with one of these:

La Boheme - One of the most popular operas, period. Also, it’s literally RENT. Beat for beat, from ‘will you light my candle’ to ‘la vie boheme,’ it’s RENT, just sung in Italian and set in Paris. (Spoilers, the ending in the opera is more tragic.)

L’Elisir D’Amore - If you like Agnes and Emmrich because you enjoy watching two idiots who are obviously in love with each other pine for each other, this is a good one. Very sweet. One of my faves.

The Barber of Seville - I think this one is very approachable if you think of it as a comic version of Sweeney Todd, if Sweeney had no tragic backstory and Jamie was a young noble. It’s a romance, shenanigans are had, and Largo al Factotum is one of the biggest bops of all time. 

My personal favorites also include Akhaten, La Fille Du Regiment, Le Nozze di Figaro, and Turandot, but your mileage may vary with these—Akhnaten is very contemporary, productions of Turandot sometimes feature some pretty heckin’ yikes orientalism. 

If you want to listen to opera music:

WQXR is NYC’s Classical Music Station. In addition to their regular classical music stream (which is also very good) they have a separate stream of just opera music called Operavore. (I also love New Sounds, but the streams vary wildly and its definitely an acquired taste.)

The Met broadcasts a series of live Sunday radio transmissions every year starting in the spring, available online and also via WQXR.

The Chicago Lyric Opera has a bunch of their live streams archived online.

I have also made a playlist where I’ll be adding all the songs featured in my Emmrook fics. :)

If you want to watch an opera stream online:

OperaVision

There’s this incredible list from OperaWire

But there’s also this site, where you can find pretty much anything

The Met also has it’s own paid streaming service, which is SPENSIVE on the subscription model, but if there’s something you really want to see and can’t find elsewhere, they allow you to rent single titles for $4.99 each.

I do strongly recommend, if you have any interest at all and have the opportunity, to go see an opera in person. For me it makes such a difference to be there in person, and it’s not as expensive as you might think! Plus, since opera is a dying art and opera houses are desperate for new audiences (at least, in America) there are usually a number of discounted ticket programs. (Again, the list below is super USA centric, I’m so sorry—and of those below, I’ve only been to the Met myself.)

The Metropolitan Opera is the biggest opera company in the US in terms of literally the number of operas they put on a year. Other than a brief break in February, the opera is pretty much in session 5 nights a week, from October through the end of May. 

Family Circle. I love the family circle. I’ve spent so much time in the Family Circle. The acoustics ARE genuinely better up here than they are in other parts of the house, and depending on the opera, tickets in the Family Circle typically go between $26-45 dollars each.

Rush Tickets are available every day online—these are usually seats in the orchestra. I can’t remember exactly but I think these are always $25. 

If you’re feeling ~opulent and looking for a very special date night, the Met also runs a program called Fridays Under 40. It’s a special priced Orchestra ticket for people under 40. Many of the dates also include little parties where they usually have photo booths, charcuterie, etc., and opportunities to meet some of the cast.

The Detroit Opera offers student rush tickets, although it looks like you have to be at the box office in person to get them. 

The Chicago Lyric Opera has discounts for students and 50% off rush tickets.

The San Francisco Opera has a great offer for first-time opera attendees who live in the Bay Area - $20 for two great seats

The L.A. Opera also offers student rush discount tickets, and $30 tickets for attendees under 30 years of age.

I am not aware of any discounts for the Santa Fe Opera but it looks so cool and it’s on my bucket list to go one day <3

Dallas Opera offers student discounts and discounts for attendees 21-45 (although it looks like they’re aksing for a membership fee for the 21-45 program—boooo Dallas Opera)

Not super clear on the specifics, but Houston Grand Opera also offers some kind of Under 40 discount on select performances

Opera Philadelphia, which recently appointed my all-time-favorite opera singer Anthony Roth Constanzo as their director, offers $10 rush tickets and student discounts

Tips for your first time at the opera, if you do go:

A thing I did not know before I started going to the opera is that even though they are sung in foreign languages, there are almost always subtitles. At the Met, these are transmitted to the chair back in front of you and available in a variety of other languages. Other houses often project the titles above or at the side of the stage.

If you don’t want to read and listen at the same time, synopses are almost always available in your program or ahead of time.

The food and drink is expensive and almost always not worth it. When I go to the Met with my friends, I regularly bring in alcohol minis as well as little cheese/meat/fruit plates in tupperware in my purse. We eat these outside the theater at intermission. No one has every batted an eye at me. (Mileage may vary at other theaters.)

I know opera has a Reputation, and I definitely was a little worried at first that I would look out of place and people would be snide to me. I have never found this to be the case. The only reason someone will be an asshole to you is if you have your phone out or are talking during the performance—don’t do that. Keep it in your pocket until intermission and silence your notifications. 

Crawl into my dms to talk to me about opera at any time, I will happily yap your ear off

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE l JJK (02)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, slow burn—really slow burn, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, cursing, blood, stabbing, loan sharks, OC cusses excessively so watch out

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

←Previous Chapter (01) | Next Chapter (03) →

******

Eight Years Ago; 2015

Jungkook couldn’t lie. Life at Port Mafia was exhausting him down to the bones, but he felt an onslaught of energy rush through him when he saw you leaning on your car while waiting for him.

“Oho~ Perfect timing. My best friend is here to pick me up~.” Jungkook said in a sing-song voice as he happily skipped down your car. Unfortunately, you didn’t mirror Jungkook’s glowing mood.

“Yeah, I’m here to save your shitty ass from perishing. Here—” You pushed a paper bag into Jungkook’s chest before opening the passenger’s door and shoving him inside.

Normally, Jungkook whined about how roughly you treated him, but he couldn’t ignore the savory aroma wafting from the paper bag anymore. Jungkook had no time for drama when his stomach was growling this loud.

“Crazy bastard. When was the last time you ate!?” You scowled as soon as he entered the car.

Jungkook ignored your question. His eyes glistened with crystals when he saw a container full of crab spring rolls. His favorite! He happily uttered your name and asked, “Are these for me? Can I eat them all?”

A scoff escaped your lips when Jungkook stuffed five spring rolls in his mouth in one go. His question did not need a response, but you answered anyway: “You’re the only one I know who eats spring rolls like there’s no tomorrow. Of course, you can eat them all. I made them for you.”

“Aw, aren’t you a sweetheart~?” Jungkook licked his fingers before extending his arm to demand, “Now give me a drink.”

Room-temperature bottled water touched Jungkook’s hand.

“Huh?” Jungkook didn’t accept the water and looked at you with confusion. “Why are you giving me this bland drink? I want banana milk!”

“Shut your trap!” You unscrewed the bottle cap and forced Jungkook to drink it. “You don’t eat in time and even refuse to drink water. You really wanna die, huh?”

Jungkook’s lips puckered. He breathed, “I agree on the last part, but you got something wrong. I do drink water! I just prefer it with flavor. Jimin-hyung and I had coffee earlier. Although, it’s too bitter for my liking..”

A pause.

Jungkook shut his mouth when he noticed your frown deepen. There was a limit to his jokes, and Jungkook knew this. You and Jungkook had been friends since you were five. You might curse and beat him, but you cared for Jungkook. You really lived up to being his best friend.

“You haven’t eaten all day, and your precious hyung made you drink coffee? Very good,” you said sarcastically.

Jungkook let out a breath, “Hey, it’s not like that, okay? We were busy at the office all day. You know we’re a start-up business.”

Start-up, my ass. The words died down in your throat. Some things didn’t need to be voiced out for them to be valid. One look at Jungkook, and your chest tightened. The bags under Jungkook’s eyes were deep and black. If you argued now, Jungkook would be more exhausted. You didn’t have the heart to watch your best friend suffer. You just wanted to bring him home.

“Right.” You gulped and leaned closer to Jungkook to help him buckle his seatbelt. The move invaded Jungkook’s personal space. He could feel your hot breath on his neck.

You owned a secondhand car that Jungkook helped you pick. The previous owner said it was fully depreciated, but you thought it worked perfectly fine—except maybe the seatbelt. Jungkook always lost his temper every time he fastened this ridiculous thing.

You had to do it for him.

Normally, it took two seconds or less to fasten one’s seatbelt, but for some reason, you took a long time helping Jungkook buckle up, almost as if you wanted to stay in this position for the rest of your life.

“Take care of yourself, alright?” Click. The seatbelt was locked in place. You straightened your back and drove the car.

Present; 2023

Nostalgia hit Jungkook in the face like torrential rain.  As of the moment, you, although allowing Jungkook to sit in the passenger seat of your car, had no intention of getting close to him or whatever.

Jungkook heaved a deep sigh.

It was too cold inside your car. Everything had truly changed. Jungkook often complained about the broken air conditioning of your cheap vehicle back then. However, you were driving a top-of-the-line car now.

The atmosphere was awkward. If someone were to tell Jungkook that he’d one day sit inside your car in silence, he would surely call that person crazy.

There was never a dull moment when he was with you. Currently, the only sound that could be heard was the seatbelt warning signal.

Jungkook hadn’t fastened his seatbelt. It was unknown if he had forgotten about it or lost his mind, thinking he had traveled back to when you still fastened his seatbelt.

Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen again. The only thing you could do was remind him about it.

“Buckle up,” you clenched his jaw. ‘Buckle up’ was the second thing you had said to Jungkook after many years of not seeing each other. You two were at the facade of The Guild earlier. Jungkook was rooted on the ground for a long time, thinking he had gone insane to imagine you waiting for him just like before.

But when he returned to his senses, you were still standing before him, and then you opened your car door, gesturing for Jungkook to hop in.

Jungkook didn’t know what kind of demon (presumably the greedy one) had possessed him to enter your car.

Blame it on his brain that short-circuited, relying only on what happened years ago. He didn’t even hesitate. He just got the hell in, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

What was unnatural was how he tried to fasten his seatbelt. He was a bit drunk, after all. His brain was working slower than usual. Jungkook buckled up while wearing the thick yellow Ronald McDonald gloves.

It took him seven tries before realizing that he should remove the gloves, but before he could, you had already leaned closer, buckling the seatbelt for him.

So much for not helping Jungkook, huh?

Since you were close, your unfamiliar scent assaulted Jungkook’s nose. Gone was the soft fabric conditioner that usually stained your clothing. It was replaced by something expensive that seduced someone instead of overwhelming their senses.

Jungkook suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. In all honesty, it wasn’t just him. The strong smell of alcohol on Jungkook terrorized you—instantly turning your mood sour.

“You are drunk.” You moved away, focusing on driving once again. Your hand clenched the steering wheel tighter.

Jungkook didn’t speak. He knew how much you hated it when he drank. It brought you pain and memories from the past you’d rather forget.

Jungkook trembled just thinking about those harrowing memories. Meanwhile, despite your apparent anger, you still turned on the car’s heater when you noticed Jungkook shivering; this awakened another memory.

Once, Jungkook couldn’t stop complaining about how hot it was inside your old car, so you, completely crazy over him, brought out a folding fan to help Jungkook cool down.

It was ridiculous and sweet at the same time. Imagine driving with one hand while using the other to fan the annoying person in the passenger seat. Jungkook didn’t have the heart to see you suffer like this, so he snatched the folding fan from you and fanned himself. Besides, it was dangerous.

Looking back, you had always risked many things to make him happy. Jungkook’s heart throbbed at this realization.

So many years had passed, but you still found a way to care about him.

Jungkook found that he couldn’t take it. He wanted to get away right now. 

“Where are we going?” He asked. Only now did he realize how stupid he was to get into this car.

You opened your mouth to speak, then closed it again. You wanted to say something but changed your mind at the last minute.

“Where do you live? I will bring you home.”

“No need.” Jungkook turned you down in a heartbeat. Who would have thought you would clench your jaw and disagree?

“You are drunk. I am bringing you home.”

Jungkook inhaled sharply. There must be something wrong with his head when he wished to see you. Your relationship was severed years ago. You two no longer understood each other. Just look at you—even your way of speaking changed. Jungkook’s tooth ached while listening to you talk formally.

But in the end, Jungkook told you the way home—just not his exact address.

“I’ll be okay here. The streets going to my apartment are narrow. Your car won’t be able to get in.” This wasn’t a lie. Jungkook lived in the poorest area of the city. Going there would only burden you, especially because many gangs waited there. They did not appreciate newcomers. Besides, your car was too flashy. You might end up walking home with a stab wound.

Thinking about that ugly scene, Jungkook shivered again. “Seriously. Just drop me off here. I’m not that drunk, okay?”

It was meant to be a reassuring statement, but your face turned ashen upon hearing that. The rims of your eyes even went red.

Jungkook touched on a sensitive topic that made your heart beat like a drum. He expected you to lash out just like before, but contrary to Jungkook’s thoughts, you simply pursed your lips like you were enduring something painful.

And then you finally stopped the car.

“Contact me.” You handed a calling card to Jungkook. The latter hesitated to receive it because for what? Why did you two need to contact each other again?

You sensed his hesitation. Your grip on the calling card constricted. You almost pushed it to Jungkook’s chest.

“Give me yours,” you demanded as if you knew your former best friend would never call you.

Jungkook held his sneer. He didn’t have a business card. Nobody would want them, so what’s the purpose of printing?

“I’ll call you.” Jungkook snatched the business card and hastily opened the door. He got out in the blink of an eye.

You were stunned but didn’t stop him.

“Thank you for the ride. Happy New Year. See you around.” A lie. He would not see you ever again.

It was too embarrassing. Jungkook was not used to feeling his heart beat crazy again. He was an old man now. He couldn’t handle intense emotions.

Seeing you after a long separation opened wounds he thought had already healed.

He fooled himself. He was a clown.

Literally.

Jungkook went straight to the comfort room of his apartment. His system really knew how to cooperate, huh? He was only vomiting now that he was out of your judgmental stares.

But really, could he blame you? Jungkook also looked at his reflection in the mirror, judging his clown self. He wished the brown patches in the mirror could cover it whole.

He didn’t want to see his face—didn’t want to think that he really met you while wearing the Ronald McDonald mascot costume.

Jungkook: “...”

Jungkook punched the mirror. 

And then let out an animalistic groan.

Jungkook hated physical pain, but he had a rush of dopamine seeing his hand bleed.

His thought of wanting to die was unleashed. He suppressed his pain and anger for years but couldn’t hold on any longer.

Just for today, Jungkook wanted to let it out. It was New Year, after all. He swore this was the last time he’d cling to his past.

And so he punched the mirror one more time. It hurt. It hurt so much that he wanted to cry or die.

Jungkook collapsed on his bed, breathing heavily.

Breathed in.

A tear fell.

Breathed out.

More tears.

He couldn’t die, so he just cried until he fell asleep.

***

Jungkook was jolted awake the next day by the banging on his apartment door. The sound was piercing, perfectly and annoyingly matching his pounding head.

A groan escaped Jungkook’s lips. He had to drag his heavy body to open the door. His eyes were still bleary from having woken up, and before he could properly look at the person in front of him, a knife had already penetrated his skin.

“Good morning, Jungkook-ah. I’ve come collecting debts~” The person who stabbed Jungkook had a saccharine voice, but the killing intent mixed in it was apparent.

Jungkook touched his aching stomach, unable to pay attention to the intruder. He looked at his hand; two colors were mixed together, giving an illusion of something hopeless and terrifying: reddish-brown, the color of dried blood from punching the mirror last night, and now fresh red blood stained his fingers.

Jungkook had been stabbed and was pushed to the ground before he could groan in pain.

“Why the long face, Jungkook-ah? Aren’t you happy?” The intruder mocked.

Jungkook was familiar with this intruder. He was Lee Sung. This man collected debts on behalf of Jang Min, his master.

“Eh? You’re not answering me? Jungkook-ah, it’s New Year. Where’re your manners? Haven’t you learned anything?” Lee Sung sneered, hauling Jungkook to his feet only to slam him against the wall.

Jungkook cursed internally: Bastard, yes, it’s fucking New Year. Won’t you give me a break!? But as usual, he couldn’t voice out his indignation. He didn’t have the energy and power to do so.

Powerless people had no voice. If there was one thing Jungkook learned in life, it was to act according to what the one in power wanted. It would make his life easy because he didn’t see the point of fighting when he knew he would lose from the start.

“You promised to pay eleven thousand yen for this month’s interest. Where’s the money~?”

Jungkook screwed his eyes shut. He lost track of the amount of interest accumulating in his debt. He didn’t even know how much the principal amount was. How could he remember? He was drowning in debt. Would you care how many times the waves hit you? No, right? You would only think about surviving or grasping for a life jacket.

His current life jacket amounted to nine thousand yen, so that’s exactly what he said.

“I have ₩9000 with me,” Jungkook’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. Cold sweat slid down his spine. “Can I...pay the remaining amount next week? I swear I—”

Lee Sung slashed Jungkook’s exposed collarbone with a knife, possibly to get him to stop bargaining.

“Of course, Jungkook-ah. I’m a generous man, don’t you know?” The lunatic with a weapon slashed another layer of Jungkook’s skin. “But I’m afraid I must cut your skin twice. One for each won you cannot pay today. Seems fair?”

Without waiting for an answer, Lee Sung already hurt Jungkook. The latter didn’t fight back. By the time the intruder was done, he had spat on Jungkook’s face and then pushed him.

The wooden floor creaked as Jungkook’s trembling body fell down.

“See you next week. Prepare the money, or I’ll have to cut your throat the next time we meet.” And then Lee Sung was gone.

Jungkook gritted his teeth, clutching his bleeding stomach. He had to call for an emergency before he lost consciousness. Unfortunately, his phone was on the bed. He struggled to crawl just to reach for his phone.

Perhaps the universe saw how helpless he was that he was granted exceptional luck: he had managed to call for help before his hand lost all power, dropping his phone as darkness clouded his vision.

***

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A/N: Please leave a like or comment if you enjoy reading this fic. It motivates me to write faster. Thank you ~~

[headkiss]

omg peter and reader taking a walk on some little trail and they push one another into leaf piles and being love sick idiots <3

this is so cute!!! tysm for the request <3 i went the pining best friends route rather than established relationship, hope that’s okay! | 0.6k of fluff!

You and Peter have been friends for what feels like forever. He’s in almost every memory you have, as far back as they go. Your childhood best friend, your now best friend, the only boy you’ve ever loved.

Growing up across the hall from each other had its perks. A mother figure in aunt May, someone to walk to school with, a door that was always open for you.

You’ve spent so much time with him that it’s sort of impossible to imagine things any other way. Not that you’d need to.

Late September has a chill seeping into the city. Leaves changing color, hands hidden in jacket pockets, cheeks and noses bitten by cold wind. Fall surrounds you and you don’t mind one bit. Not when Peter’s beside you, too.

He’d come knocking on your door earlier (even though he doesn’t need to knock, as you’ve told him countless times) and asked you to go for a walk with him. Easy, like breathing or blinking, you’d said yes.

It’s nice to have someone to do these things with, to be mundane and quiet without a trace of awkwardness. All of this comfort and you’ve yet to tell him how you feel, how in love you are.

Peter walks close enough to you that your arms brush with every step, jacket against jacket, warmth seeping into your skin every time. When he walks alone, he’s quicker, strides full, earbuds in. With you, he’s learned to match your pace, to slow himself to stay next to you.

“You cold?” Peter asks, even when he’s the one with his cheeks pink from the breeze.

“Mmm, just my hands.” You tilt your head up to the sky, then towards him. “It’s a nice day.”

And it is. Despite the chill, the sun’s shining, the trail you and Peter are taking tucked away enough from the city that it doesn’t feel like you’re in it. Rustling leaves in the wind, fallen ones littering your path, the smell of fall in the air. Your favorite boy as company.

“Yeah, it is,” he says, eyes catching yours. Then, he reaches for the hand closest to him, his fingers curling around yours, and tucks your joined hands into his coat pocket. “There.”

You feel warmer already, his palm against yours, but you try to play it off. “How’s your pocket any warmer than mine?”

“‘Cause your coat’s a joke. I’ve got fleece-lined pockets, ‘kay? Way warmer, honey.”

“Leave it to you to be a nerd, even about a jacket.”

He shrugs innocently, shoulder to a rosy cheek.

Peter takes any excuse he can to be close to you, to touch you, and he knows what that means. He knows he loves you, and he’s not really hiding it. It sinks into everything he does. Walking closer to the road, letting you have the last sip of your shared milkshakes, going to see the latest horror movie with you when he hates the genre.

As much as Peter wants to tell you, he also wants this to work, to fall into place the way he thinks things will. You’ve had your whole lives with each other so far, and there’s the rest of a lifetime to go.

“Did you just call me a nerd?”

“You heard me, Parker.”

“Well, in that case…”

One second you’d been walking beside him, the next, Peter’s pushed you over into a pile of leaves beside the trail. It’s probably the most gentle push ever, but it’s enough to make you trip over your feet.

“Peter,” you groan, dragging out his name. “At least help me up.”

You hold out your hand, laying on your back, leaves probably stuck to your clothes and in your hair. Peter takes it—of course, he does—and with a tug, you’ve got him laying next to you.

“I always fall for that one,” he says, his hand still in yours, shoulders shaking a little with his laughter.

You turn your head to look at him, and he does the same, your noses an inch apart, twin smiles on your faces.

A lifetime to go, Peter thinks.

[watchingovergvff]

Kill You To Try- Jake Kiszka

Summary: Will you and Jake ever be able to see eye to eye? Being pining idiots and hating each others guts don’t mix. Let’s find out the hard way then.

Genre: Childhood best friends- enemies- lovers. Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Jake is an asshole. Jealousy and Drinking.

A/N: This is my second favorite thing i’ve ever written. I apologize for my lack of Jake fics, considering I stay in Jake lane 24/7. I’ve been working on this for a couple of weeks and it’s not perfect by any means. I love to hear feedback so please let me know or if you want a part two to this also!! Thank you for all your patience and support<3333

_______________________________________________

Jake has never been jealous of Josh’s relationship with you, well that was until he saw the two of you dancing. Something about the way Josh’s hands caressed the small of your back, made his chest ache in resentment.

That’s where his dislike for you starts. Well, maybe not dislike but irritation at least.

Jake has known you since the 5th grade. You used to run around the playground, picking flowers for each and every one of your classmates. Jake had fallen and scratched up his knee, sniffles sounding out. Feeling a gentle tap on his shoulder, he turns around to find you smiling down at him.

“Are you okay?” you peer down at him.

“My knee hurts.”

Handing him the prettiest flower out of your bouquet, “Here this should make you feel better.” Jake admires your toothless grin from below, already feeling much better. It didn’t take much longer after that for him to decide to keep you around.

Jake and Josh were a package deal so being best friends with Josh was inevitable. Growing up, you always found that Josh matched your energy to-a-tee. He was your best friend, the one that always knew how to make you laugh. But, Jake was different. Jake felt like your home, your safe place.

That was until he started acting like an asshole out of nowhere. One day you were fine, the next day you weren’t.

It hurt like hell. There’s truly no way to describe losing your better half, other than heartbreak. Maybe it wouldn’t have hurt so bad, if you weren’t utterly in love with him.

As the years go by, Jake continues his relentless cycle of torture. The snide comments or blatant disrespect, never compared to the pain of him ignoring you. Josh was dumbfounded at Jake’s behavior toward you. He could have sworn Jake was in love with you, but it’s not the first time Jake has surprised him. Josh was tired of constantly calling Jake out on his shit. He understood if Jake just didn’t get along with you anymore, but the disrespect was uncalled for.

Over time, you got used to Jake’s nasty behavior and decided to not let it bother you. If he was going to act like a child then so be it, you would be the mature one.

The boy’s music career had shot up since high school, which meant less time spent together and more time touring the world. Saying your goodbyes was hard, but was inevitable. In the meantime, your life would live on in Michigan, while theirs roamed the world.

Life caught up with all of you, which meant less phone calls and no time for visits. Josh kept his promise when he said he would call once a week. He loved giving you every detail of tour since you couldn’t be there. You had been with them since before they even decided to be a band, so not having you around was weird for all of them, even Jake.

After being away for a year, the tour has finally come to an end. Sam being Sam decides to throw a coming home party, mourning the end of tour but celebrating their return.

Being Josh’s right-hand man comes with its perks, so when you get the invitation to their “exclusive” party, you can’t turn the opportunity down.

Would it be weird to say that you hit a second puberty over the past year? Probably, yes. But, you were being truthful. All those years begging and pleading your body to catch up with your maturing mind, payed off it seems. You finally felt good in your own shoes. So, when the hot guy from the local coffee shop asks for your number, who are you to say no.

Having had plans for a date the night of the party, you suggest that the two of you attend a good friend’s party. Surprisingly, he agrees to go with you, let’s just hope he’s used to crazy.

____

“Josh will you please shut the fuck up? I don’t want to hear her name again, please,” Jake groans out.

Whipping his head in Jake’s direction Josh says, “She’s my best friend. I’m allowed to be excited to see her Jake.”

Jake gives his best effort to not roll his eyes, but fails.

“It’s not like you have to talk to her. I’m sure she isn’t thrilled to see you either, after how shitty you’ve been,” Josh mumbles, leaving the room.

Huffing like a child, Jake does his best to calm his nerves. He is not prepared whatsoever to see you after all this time.

____

Jake already knew it would be hard to see you, but seeing you with some guy makes his façade shatter completely. Pre-gaming seems to have been a bust, because he has never felt soberer in his life.

“Sunshine!” Josh’s bright smile distracts you from scanning the crowd any longer, silently searching for his other half.

After Josh has gotten his fill of hugs and kisses from you, he makes quick work of introducing himself to your date.

Josh’s love for first impressions allows you to quickly excuse yourself, wanting to find a drink strong enough to get through the night.

Scanning the crowd, you see him. Sitting in a secluded corner of the room, slowly sipping on his drink.

Realizing his eyes had been on you since stepping in the doorway, you allow yourself one quick glance in his direction. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of actively looking for him, you walk the opposite direction, silently hoping he’ll follow you.

Is Jake an asshole to you? Yes.

Does he deserve even a second of your time? Hell no.

But, there’s still a part of you that longs for the Jake you once knew so well. It’s foolish to believe that after all this time he has changed, but you can’t help but wish for it.

Fixing a drink, you smile at people in passing or attempt to make small talk.

Feeling him before you see him, his presence looms over you like no other.

Jake sits onto the countertop next to you, plucking the cherry out of your drink. Grinning wickedly at you, he sucks the cherry into his mouth.

If you hadn’t been so focused on his cherry stained lips, you would have slapped the audacity right out of him.

“See something you like, sunshine?”

“Fuck off Jake,” you glare up at him.

“Don’t be like that, where’s my welcome home hug?” he pouts.

“Assholes don’t get welcome home hugs. They get a foot up their ass instead. Would you like me to demonstrate?”

He chuckles.

Jumping off the counter, he says, “It’s good to see you to, Sunshine.”

Watching him saunter off to his dark corner, you exhale, trying to regain your footing. Jake has always had a way of making your head feel all fuzzy, no matter what bullshit he was spewing.

____

Sam had made the executive decision to start a bonfire later into the night.

The party had dwindled down to very few people at this point.

Your date had decided to head home early because he had work the following morning. The both of you had agreed to see each other again soon. He seemed extremely nice, but you had a feeling it wouldn’t work out due to your complicated past resurfacing.

But, you were in desperate need of a distraction sadly.

Which left you snuggled under Josh’s arm, sharing childhood stories around the fire. Very clique, but it happened every time you all got together and had a few drinks.

Jake’s eyes haven’t left your figure since you walked in the door. The moment in the kitchen with you replaying in his mind over and over again. He could have sworn you looked at him, like he’s always looked at you.

Hanging on to every word that comes out of your mouth, Jake yearns for your affection.

Over the years, Jake has had love interests that weaved in and out of his life. He’d never been in love with any of them, but unconsciously found parts of you in them.

Deflecting his feelings for you by pretending to dislike you is better than being rejected by the one person he loves most, at least that’s what he tells himself.

He longs to hold you close like Josh.

Was his fear of rejection worth losing his best friend?

____

Weeks have passed since the night of the party. Danny had graciously taken you home that night, promising to have a lunch date soon.

Remember the guy you brought with you to said party, you know, the one you agreed to see again?

Well, the time has come to meet up again. The both of you agree to get drinks at a local bar in town. Your excited to go out actually. He’s a cute guy who seems to have a genuine interest in you. Plus, he could be the solution to your irritating Jake problem. It’s been a while since you’ve gotten all dolled up anyway, so this is a great excuse.

Finally feeling satisfied with how you look, you head out the door. Don’t get it twisted, you’re not dressing for him. Putting on a pretty outfit and delicate makeup is all for you, mostly because it’s fun.

High school is rough for everyone. Puberty, delayed growth spurts, acne, braces, and social standards never complimented each other. Having struggled with each and every aspect of an awkward stage during high school.

Feeling beautiful is hard when everyone around is trying to be anyone but themselves. So, you could say high school was rough for you.

You never thought of yourself as beautiful or magnificent. Mostly putting yourself into the dull category, because there was truly nothing special about you.

But, Jake always had a way of proving you wrong.

Jake watched you grow from a gentle and kind young lady, into a breath-taking woman.

Having always thought you were beautiful in every stage of life, Jake truly wouldn’t know where to start.

_____

The bar was lit up with string lights, softly playing music.

Lucky for you, the bar was just a block over from your house, so you were able to walk over. Hoping that your date went well enough for you to hitch a ride home with him.

You arrived on time, perching yourself atop the nearest bar stool. He had messaged you saying he was running behind, but he shouldn’t be too long. So, you had decided to wait at the bar for him.

____

Hours have passed and your still sat atop a barstool, downing your sixth drink of the night. You came to the conclusion about two hours ago, that he was indeed not coming after all.

“Ma’am, do you have a ride home? We’re closing up shop here, so you’re going to have to leave soon,” the older bartender asks you.

“Yeah, yeah sorry. Let me call a friend of mine really quick,” you fumble around, looking for your phone.

Securing your phone in your hand, you go to call Josh. He wouldn’t mind coming to get you.

“Hello?”

“Hey Josh, I know its late but I need a ride home. I’m at the bar down the street, but I’ve had too much to drink to walk home in the dark. Can you please come get me?” anxiously fidgeting in your seat.

“I’ll be there in five. Stay right there,” he hangs up abruptly.

He did not sound happy whatsoever. Making Josh mad was not on your to do list today.

It’s just kind of weird. Josh never minds picking you up, he actually insists its him you call. He’s probably having a rough day, don’t over think it.

It hadn’t even been five minutes when you heard your name being called behind you.

Except that voice was definitely not Josh’s.

Out of all people you could have accidentally called, it had to be him. Your night couldn’t get any worse.

Spinning around on your chair, you sigh, waiting for him to provoke you.

He looks at you worriedly, almost like you would shatter any second now.

You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“What? What did I do now?” Jake questions, conscious of your every move.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

You glare at him.

“Like I’m some fucking lost puppy.”

“Don’t give me a reason to,” he bites back.

Running your hands across your face, you realize just how tired you were. “Jake, I can’t do this with you right now. I’ve had a shitty day. Can you please just take me home?”

He reluctantly nods, heading out the door with you in tow.

The two of you climb into his car and begin your silent ride home.

Jake’s never seen you like this. He’s used to you being angry especially at him. Granite, he does love to get you riled up.

But, his favorite is when your happy. When you smile so big, that it throws him back to the day he met you, with your big toothless grin shining down on him.

His sunshine now turning into rain.

So, he respects the silence for once in his life, letting you have your moment. Watching the tears gather in your eyes, brings along a feeling he’s not familiar with.

Rage.

Gripping the steering wheel, he feels steam run off of him, allowing his knuckles to turn white.

It’s one thing for him to tease and mock you, but another for some asshole to think he can and get away with it.

Jake wants now more than anything to be Josh for you. To make you smile and laugh. He can’t bare to see you like this any longer.

“Do you want to play some music? I’ll even let you choose,” he speaks softly, almost like he doesn’t want to run you off.

You peer up at him in confusion. Where the hell did Jake go?

Shifting anxiously under your gaze, Jake mumbles a quick never mind.

It’s been years since the two of you have had a civil conversation, so this feels unnatural.

“Do you remember when Sam had a crush on you?” doing his best to break the ice.

You snort.

His heart flutters seeing you laugh at something he said for once.

“Do I? The kid followed me around for weeks asking me all kinds of weird questions. It took you telling him that I had cooties because of you to back off,” you laugh out.

Sam was never a smooth talker, that’s for sure.

Jake laughs.

You watch in awe, begging for him to never stop laughing again.

Eventually, Jake pulls into your driveway. The two of you sit in silence for a moment, just wanting to bask in the normalcy for once.

You pull the door open, stepping out of the car. Turning around, you give him a tight-lipped smile.

“Thanks Jake, for everything,” looking anywhere but at him.

“No need to thank me, I’d do it again. If you really wanted to thank me, you could tell me where that guy lives so I can kick his ass,” he smiles up at you, only slightly kidding.

Laughing you wave goodbye, praying that he doesn’t see how flustered you were.

Once you’ve made it inside, Jake sits in the driveway, contemplating everything that happened tonight.

On the way home, Jake realizes he regrets not apologizing for everything he’s said that he truly didn’t mean.

____

Days pass and Jake hasn’t heard a peep from or about you. Josh claims that your trying to heal from getting your heartbroken, but Jake has a feeling something else is wrong.

He is terrified that he may have done something to hurt or upset you once again. He is sick and tired of being the one that hurts you.

So, Jake makes the impulsive decision to go see you. Josh protests saying “Jake is the last person you would want to see right now”. In authentic Jake fashion, he doesn’t give a flying fuck.

____

The drive to your house was torture. Jake didn’t know what the right thing to say would be or what he should do.

Thinking back to simpler times, he remembers the time he saw you the summer of 9th grade.

____

That summer was a weird one for all of you.

Jake and Josh finally went through a growth spurt and started filling into their teenage bodies.

They hadn’t seen you all summer because your family sent you to summer camp.

Jake had come home one day, looking for Josh. He heard Josh’s voice float down the hallway from the garage. Making his way in that direction, he heard a second voice. Recognizing that sweet voice anywhere, Jake strides down the hall in search of you.

Once in the garage, he froze in his tracks. It was definitely you, but different. Jake remembers your straggly hair and your scraped knees. He remembers a little girl, his best friend.

You were no longer a little girl, you were a young woman.

You had bloomed into a stunning flower. Jake felt breathless.

But, after all you were still you. Jake was still Jake.

Best friends forever, but maybe it had always been more than that.

____

Jake and Josh hauled you everywhere. Every show they played you were there.

Believing in their success was never difficult for you. The moment you heard them play together, you knew everything would change.

When the boys played their first big show, you had tagged along not wanting to miss a second of it. Their set had finally come to an end that night. Trotting off the stage, Jake immediately went looking for you. He’d kept an eye on you throughout the show, always feeling better with you close by.

Feeling a hand grip his wrist, he spins around in search of the culprit.

Wrapping him into a bear hug, you squeeze him tight.

Pulling away from you he notices tears in your eyes.

“What’s wrong? Was the show that bad?”

You slap at his chest.

“No, you idiot. These are happy tears. I’m just so proud of you guys. Thank you for letting me be here,” you smile up at him.

“Thank you for wanting to be here. I couldn’t have done it without you,” he remarks.

Arriving at your house, he stumbles up to your porch and forces himself to knock on your door. After what seems to be the longest two minutes of his life, you answer the door.

You clearly just woke up from a nap, your hair a wild mess. Of course, Jake thinks its adorable.

Obviously, your taken aback as to why Jake would be standing on your front porch. You begin to question him, but he stops you.

“Can I come in? We need to talk,” he says, barely looking you in the eye.

“Yeah sure, sure,” you say, stepping aside.

Looking around, Jake realizes he’s never been inside your house before. Your windows are wide open, welcoming the sunlight in. Music playing softly from your record player. Books littered all over the room. It feels like home, yet so unfamiliar.

Clearing your throat, you see him jump, clearly on edge.

Once the two of you have gotten comfortable on your sofa, you realize she how quiet it is. Giving him a small smile, in hopes to provide some sort of comfort due to his jitteriness. He melts at the sight of your kind gesture.

“Are you feeling better” he asks.

Chuckling nervously, you reply, “Way better than the last time you saw me. Thank you for that by the way. I meant to text you afterwards, but I was just too tired.”

“You don’t have to thank me, I wanted to.”

You stare at him blankly.

“You wanted to save me from one of the most embarrassing nights of my life?”

“No no no, I didn’t mean it like that, I just like helping you or being the one you call.”

Giving him an exasperated sigh, you sink deeper into your chair.

“Jake, why are you here?”

He sighs, remembering the real reason he came after all. “I don’t even know where to start. I just wanted to apologize, for everything. You never deserved how I treated you. You’ve always been such an enigma to me. I couldn’t ever figure out why you were so kind to me, even after I pushed you away.”

“Then why did you push me away Jake? When all I’ve ever wanted was to be close to you.”

“I felt like I had to. You and Josh had gotten so close. I was selfish and got jealous. I’ve had to share everything with Josh my whole life. The one thing I never ever wanted to share was you. At the time, I felt like you had finally made your decision and it was Josh that you chose. It hurt too much to see the both of you together, so I made myself distance from you. A few years after I came to my senses and realized I was being selfish making you choose between the both of us, I wanted to make things right. I bought flowers and wrote out my whole apology speech, just to get to your front door and cower away. I felt like there would be no way you would forgive with such a lame ass excuse at that point. I had already dug deep enough. So, I made myself learn how to hate you, even though that’s the farthest thing from the truth. I--- I’m just so sorry Y/n. I never want to hurt you again. Being the one you called that night at the bar made me realize just how much I missed you. I miss talking to you, laughing with you, and sitting with you. I miss everything. I want to make it right, no matter what it takes. You deserve it, you always have.”

Hiding his face within his hands, in order to keep some composure, he hears a sniffle. Quickly looking up, Jake comes face to face with your tearful smile.

Tears poor down your face, while grinning ear to ear.

Reaching over, Jake gently wipes your tears away. You reach up and cup his shaky hands, holding them against your face.

“You’re such a dumbass.”

The both of you die out with chocked up laughter.

“You should have just told me Jake. I’ve always loved you both and I always will. But, my love for you is different, it always has been. You’re my best friend. Josh is my brother, the one that shields me. I had a sneaking suspicion that may have been what triggered your behavior, but I was too pissed to talk about it with you. Your right, I didn’t deserve the treatment you gave me, but I saw right through that bullshit. You forget that I watched you grow up. You’ve always been my sweetheart, the friend that would go above and beyond for you. I never truly believed you hated me, I just wanted to give you time to figure yourself out, no matter how long it took. I forgive you Jake. I think I forgave you a long time ago, but was always too prideful to admit it to myself.”

Grinning at each other, Jake pulls you into a tight hug. Being this close to one another after years of pining, felt like a dream.

Finally, you pull away realizing just how close the two of you were. Feeling Jake’s breath gently against your skin, you glance down at his lips. Jake’s breathing all together stops.

Quickly, your mind comes to its senses and the both of you awkwardly pull away.

Scratching the back of his neck, Jake says, “I guess I should head back to the studio now. Josh is going to kill me if I’m late again.”

“Oh yeah, of course. I know how cranky he can get,” you laugh off. Leading him out your front door, you turn to walk back inside.

“Y/n,” Jake calls out.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

You smile so wide, your bottom lip shakes.

Waving him off, you head back inside. Laying against the door, your head feels fuzzy from just his smile.

____

Five minutes later, Jake finds himself pulling right back into your driveway. He marches right out of his car, straight up to your porch once again. In a tizzy, he begins banging on your door.

Rushing to see what the ruckus is about, you swing open your door.

“Miss me already?” you chuckle out.

“Marry me.”

“What?”

“What?”

The both of you stand there looking at each other, daring the other to speak up.

“I’m sorry that’s not what I meant to say, I was trying to tell you-

You tug him by his collar, kissing him softly.

Eventually, the two of you pull away trying to catch your breath. Resting his head against yours, you both smile.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” you whisper out.

Jake chuckles in disbelieve. “No way, I’ve been dreaming of that since 7th grade.”

He takes your hand in his, squeezing so tight in hopes to convey his love for you. Immediately understanding, you bring your hand up to gently stroke his hair.

“Well, we could keep standing out here looking at one another, or we can go inside and kiss some more,” you say.

Jake hastily responses, “Inside please.”

____

Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed!!!!

[hoeforhao]

Most Ardently // Wonwoo Fic //

✧. pairing: professor!wonwoo × student fem!reader (featuring mingyu and dino)

✧. genre: fluff, mild angst? very short smut(as i wanted to keep this as a pure emotional fic) minors dni, lots of pining and comfort at the end.

✧. warnings: nothing heavy, just a very slow burning romance based around my favorite novel, slight mentions of a yandere ex boyfriend,use of swear words, joking use of the word k!ll.

✧. synopsis: what happens when your one night stand becomes your new literature professor, taking both of you down a blissful lane of old school love.

✧. word count: 3.2k (approx)

✧.banner credits: to the sweetest @classicscreations

✧. author's note: as wonwoo fluff+smut won in the 50 followers poll, here it is finally. although it became more of an angsty fluff(i absolutely suck at writing puppy romance). hope y'all will enjoy it and if this gets some love, i'll bring out its prequel. last but not the least, if you enjoyed my writing then...

Likes, comments and reblogs will be heartily appreciated ♡

and on page 157 she fell in love...

"Love"~ a word meaningful only between the withered folds of literature, luring one into the Georgian haze.Realistically tho, finding a love that will entwine both soul and mind, seep through your cracks and reconcile the cores, is as strange as a diffident person like you getting raveled into a one night stand.

Quite literally clawing out your scalp, ensuring the inevitable headache later on, you kept on asking yourself, what made you so wild to sleep with a random ass stranger, that too on the night before fall semester started??!!!! The guilt clouded your mind so much so that the trance had to be broken by mingyu's hard slap on your shoulder.

"Are you dead or what idiot? The new professor's been here for over a minute now and called out your name almost seventeen times" the tall idiot sitting beside you, nearly howled into your ears.

Before the count could hit eighteen, you quickly pried up from your seat, taking a glance at the man standing in the teacher's place.

Why does his face look so familiar? That same hairstyle with heart shaped strands sticking to the forehead, those harry pottery glasses overshadowing the cat eyes, his exact little stubby nose and most importantly the bewitching plump dahlia lips.

No way it's who I think it is!!! It's definitely the hangover towering. How can he be -

"Ms y/n?"a soft hushed voice called out, pulling your train of thoughts to a sudden halt,"Mr Bennett handed over your thesis to me before he left." Only a single nod left your body as you took over the file and made your way back to the place beside the giant sized puppy,body completely washed off by an unknown tingling sensation.

"Morning students!! I'm your new literature professor from now,Jeon Wonwoo. Mr Bennett's knowledge and aura are indeed irreplaceable but still I'll try my best to bring out the beauty of literature to you guys." the man spoke, eyes a bit tensed up yet briming with a certain sort of joy.

Throughout the entire lesson, your beads were fixated onto your teacher ; as a person who would never let their focus sway, specially in literature classes, you now didn't even know what chapter the class was going through.

"Looks like someone is enchanted huh" your annoying ass bestfriend pushes you a little from the back as the entire class gets ready to head out for lunch.

"Y/n?" you hear the same raspy voice seek out your name. "Go go! Your prince is calling you!!" mingyu teases you again with a mocking smile on his face.

"Utter a single word after this, and I'll make sure you walk reverse footed the entire week" you stomp on his feet before turning around to listen to what your teacher had to ask.

"Yes sir?" you coo out softly, trying to make your racing heart less obvious.

"Meet me at my office after lunch. We need to discuss on your thesis."

"But I already submitted it to Mr Bennett once,then why again?"

"He ran short of time,while packing things up and couldn't scrutinize the papers properly, so now I'm in charge." jeon said as politely as possible.

"Okay sir. I'll be there in an hour"

"You can call me wonwoo" a light smile painted the older's face as he made your cheeks flush bright red with the comment.

Swirling around on your heels, you swiftly made your way out the room, not wanting to flash him with your blushing profile.

Stomping your feet in impatience and somewhat a little bit of anxiety, you wait for your beanstalk of a best friend to choose his drink from the vending machine.

"You're not choosing a wife Kim Mingyu. Hurry the fuxk up pls"

"Getting that worked up for a four eyed nerd! What a loser!!" mingyu spat out, while he bended down to collect his can.

"Says the one who has been bitchless since the cracking dawn of civilization. Oh wait you need to have human traits to get a partner, not that of chimpanzees" you spank his butt from absolute annoyance.

With a loud 'ouch' and his characteristic puppy eyes, mingyu rises up from his position and hurriedly drops you off at wonwoo's office door, otherwise who knows what more parts of him you'll break.

Cold sweats dripping down your face, you stand still at his door, an unfamiliar feeling shivering down your spine as you slowly bring up your hands to knock on the knob.

"M-may I come in sir?" why is it that you're shaking so much, is strange to you too. You haven't ever felt like this,not even when you met your bitchass ex for the first time.

"What are you doing to me jeon wonwoo" you whisper under your breath before stepping into the gloomy wooden space,following the green light from him.

Sitting yourself comfortably on the swiveling chair infront of his desk, you wait for wonwoo to speak up, legs shaking uncontrollably beneath the stilted plank.

"Welcome y/n. As far as I'm knowledged, your thesis is on Georgian Era pieces, and you've chosen Pride and Prejudice as your muse right?"

You just hmm in response, words refusing to leave your body, as you feel drugged by his honey voice.

"Let's get you started then" his eyes sparkling like fireworks.

Completely engrossed into your work, you almost became unaware of wonwoo's presence in the same room as you, posture quite stable now; oblivious of how quickly that composure is gonna get washed off of your body.

"Si-" picking up your head from the paper, you tried to call out his name as you needed some help with the summary, only to feel a hot breath fanning on your neck, his soft nose brushing againt your skin, as he stretches out his hand to the book infront of you.

"How many times have i told you to call me wonwoo, huh berrybub" the older's voice wooed into your system,his other hand gently tucking in the lose strands behind your ears.

"W-wonwoo can you r-read out this verse to me pls? I can't make out few parts of it" you were yourself astonished at how stable you sounded, completely ignorant of the shiver running down your spine.

"Anything for you y/n" wonwoo spoke out again,his wet lips lightly grazing against your cheeks, as he pulled the book into his hands and took his place back on the chair.

The rest of the session was as quite as a viva room, with him occasionally stealing glances at you, while you kept your eyes fixed onto the table.

An entire week went by like this, where wonwoo would read out the piece to you as you wrote your papers, with a regular comment of "if you keep staring at me like that y/n, then I fear we would be able to submit your work in time" from him. But that one suspicion refused to leave your mind no matter how much you tried.

Strolling down the hallway like a happy puppy, forgetful of all the worries with this newfound feeling of warmth and butterflies, you made your way towards the restroom, when suddenly a hand pulled you back into a dark corner.

"C-chan! What are you doing!" looking up at who this man was, you started feeling heavy in the head almost instantly, chest heaving up and down at the rate of a storm . It was no other than your yandere ex boyfriend, who cheated on you with your cousin sister!!!!

"Missed me princess?" his hands roaming all over your body as he pinned you down to the wall, a dirty feeling gushing over your entire body.

"It's over between us Chan. You knew that I would forgive anything but cheating. And you did the exact same thing. That too with Angie? Pathetic!!!" tears building up in your eyes as you try to sound as confident as possible. "And moreover, I don't think I have feelings for you anymore. Maybe it was never even love"

"Oh such a naive girl you are! You really think i give a shit about your feelings and all?" a devilish grin flashing on his face as Chan brings his lips closer to yours, hands gripping onto your waist tightly.

Your body was starting to give up, tears continously streaming down your face as you kept on praying for him to stop. But this is the 21st century, and God only helps those who help themselves. Coring up all the strength left in your body, you brought up your legs and karate kicked him on his groin.

A painful whimper left Chan's lips as he held onto his throbbing manhood, while you took this chance to run away from his grasp.

Running down the corridors, that now seemed to be endless, with his voice echoing through the walls "I'll not let you go off that easily bitch. Come back here", you tightly shut your eyes closed, desperately waiting for someone to save you from this nightmare.

And looks like the heavens finally listened to your helpless pleas as you felt a pair of bulky arms wrapping around your body like a warm blanket, pulling you into a bleak rim. Both9f your frames sandwiched against each other, hearts beating in unison, as your trembling body was now being warmed with the heat radiating off of you two.

You slowly look up at the man who saved you from that lunatic ex of yours; not like you already didn't recognize him from the strong scent of his cologne. Yes, you were unconsciously so in love with this boy, that you even remembered his smell.

As soon as your eyes met with wonwoo's, the first thing you noticed was some sort of burning rage in him, a fire powerful enough to burn down an entire forest in just a matter of few seconds.

"Wonw-" he didn't even let you finish your sentence before pulling you into the tightest hug, resting his head on the crook of your neck as he mouthed "I'll make sure to destroy anyone who dares to stain this blissful face of yours with teardrops, to lay even a single finger on your body", with an unreadable tone of anger yet sadness.

You hugged him back as tight not knowing what to say, completely taken aback by this sudden comment. Losing consciousness of what just happened with you just few moments back, you two kept on bear hugging each other as if it was the last day the Earth's gonna revolve 'round the sun, with wonwoo being the first to let go.

"I-i am sorry" that's the last thing you heard from him before he left you standing so empty in the dark, mind clouded with a bunch of unanswered questions.

"How can he leave like nothing happened, after what he did that day?" is the only thing that kept eating you out for the next few days, as you kept attending your college, both of you never crossing paths since the incident. Wonwoo didn't even show up to the classes, which surely was of no help to your intense craving. But you were highly stubborn yourself ; if he could ignore those close moments between you both so easily, you could too.

Another strange thing that bugged you was that Chan was never seen in the college campus after that day, ever again. Even his classmates failed to contact him anymore!!!

Throwing away these negative thoughts outta your head, you were strolling down the gallery, all ready to go back home as you suddenly took a halt before wonwoo's office. It was open and left unattended. You don't know what took over you and you entered the same place that gave you so many warm memories. With a silent sigh and sullen face, you carefully inspected the interiors, running your fingers along the places that were stained with his scent.

"Y/n?" the voice your ears have been longing for all these days, disrupted your probe midway. Turning around, your eyes immediately landed onto the figure standing at the door, the one your heart now beats for; at that moment all you wanted was to run to him, pull him into the warmest embrace and never let go.

But your self respect and self doubt was chaining you down, as you lifted up your feet slowly to leave the room, head hanging down low. "Sorry won- I mean sir. Sorry for intervening into your space. I'll be taking my leave"

"Don't! pls!" a muffled voice echoed around the room"W-we need to finish your project. I don't want you to fail because of me."

"It's okay sir. I can do it by myself. Thanks for all you've done for me till now" you blurt out quite sternly, with a hint of underlying taunt.

"P-pls" a sudden change of tone was evident in wonwoo's voice, as if he was on the verge of crying, which was enough to melt your composure. I mean who would want to see their loved ones cry because of them right?!

He guided you to your seat as he swiveled his own towards yours and sat right in front of you,with just a few inches gap between the two.

With a drooped down head, wonwoo pulled out the book from his drawer and took out a kitten shaped bookmark from the last done page. You lightly chuckled at the older's choice of stationary, while bringing out your thesis file.

"Let's start. Only some part is left" eyes still not daring to look at you , he started reading out the last few chapters of the piece, while keeping his gaze fixed between the folds.

Turning the pages to the one marked 157, wonwoo's voice came to a stall, slowly picking up his head from the book,his feline beads finally landed onto yours, hazed by a soft yet painful daze. Wonwoo soon started to read out again, but this time instead of looking at the book, he was looking at you, with a mixed expression of agony blended with intense pining.

"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

Even though your mind wanted to go by the reason that it was just a line from the novel, your heart exactly knew what he meant. You wanted to let him know how much you loved him too, how much your soul craved for his, how long you've waited for this one moment....but you couldn't! A strange feeling of unjust kept you from running to his arms at that instant; so instead you got up from your chair and twirled around to leave the room as quickly as possible.

"Pls y/n pls don't leave me. Again!" two pair of arms wrapped around your waist tightly, immediately stopping you on your track. "You don't know how happy I was when I got to see you again that morning. I couldn't sleep for nights as i kept on squealing thinking about your smile lit face.You came into my life as the brightest ray when I lost all hope. Pls don't push me into the dark again."

Your heart clenched at the sound of soft sobs coming from your back, as you swiftly turned on your heels, only to be a met with a teary eyed wonwoo.

"I-it was you that night wonwoo?"drops now threatening to slide down your eyes. "They say the heart knows it all. No wonder why it always kept telling me that it was you" you said while wiping off the tears of his pale face.

"I've wanted to have you by my side since the moment you held my hand and pulled me into that hotel" closing the gap between you two as he softly placed his lips on yours ; pulling both being into a soft yet passionate kiss as you reverted back to him with equal thirst.

Grip never leaving your waist, he finally lets go of your lips, as you two gasped for some air, face all stained with fresh hot tears. Not long after, he attacks your face again, but this time painting it with affectionate sloppy kisses all over, as if a lost kitten found their home after days. He couldn't get enough of your body, as his wet lips gradually started going down your jaw and landing onto your shoulder, imprinting his teeth onto them.

Wonwoo gave a small tap on your legs and getting his intentions straight away, you quickly wrapped your legs around his torso, as he carried you towards the couch, unbuttoning your shirt in the mean time.

After he placed you onto the couch gently, sliding a cushion under your head, he carefully positioned himself on top of you.

"Can I?" soon afterward you gave him an assuring nod, wonwoo dived into your body, ripping off the white satin shirt of you, as he started placing wet sloppy kisses onto your chest. Fingers roaming around your clothed nipple, he swiftly freed your breasts off your bra and devoured them into his mouth ; earning soft alluring moans from you that were ringing like music to his ears.

Following a good thirty minutes of ravishing and worshiping your body, wonwoo finally plopped down on the couch, embracing you from behind as he pulled the covers over your bodies [do not ask me how a couch had covers pls]

"If you want you can leave me later, but please let's stay like this for some time" a whimper left his lips as he tightened the grasp around your belly.

Turning around to face him, you cupped his face onto your hands, rubbing your fingers onto his squishy cheeks as you softly assured, "Woo, I was smitten by you the exact day you came into our class. Maybe I couldn't properly recognize your face because of the alcohol, but my heart started longing for you since then. You have no idea on how hard I've tried not to fall, but look at me, I'm now head over heels for you. So don't even think about me leaving you, you dumbo. Neither are you allowed to leave, understood Mr!!" you flooff up your nostrils trying to imitate an angry puppy, earning the biggest flash of sunshine smile from bigger flooff beside you.

my darling,

you would never be unloved by me

you're too well tangled in my soul

finishing off your night with such a beautiful verse, you both drift off to deep slumber, entangled into each other's spirits.

[lizpaige]

fics i read this week 👩‍💻

hiiiii its me again. I've read lots of fics this week, but going to share some of them here in case you need some recs in your life! also please send me some recs if you've got any! i'd love to check them out!

Adam Parrish and His Band of Merry (College) Friends by Idontshaveforsher_yesyoudo Collection of pOV Outsider stories of pynch and this is my fave genre of fic okaaaaaay? I just love it and love their dynamic it's great!

A Moment in Time by pinkhorizon This is a WIP (3/10 chapters so far) and sososo good! farmer!Ronan hires college student!Adam for the summer to help around the farm and the tensionnnnnn is just so good I love it so far!

Am I Gonna Get to Love You? by earthquaker Classic oops they got married in vegas au. butbutbut the pining and backstory and everything is just next level.

shout (let it all out) by beanwestchester My heart!!!! This fic was so sweet and delicate and soft and just let Adam enjoy wearing his skirts pls and thank you.

we all fill up with time by interropunct There aren't enough trans!Ronan fics in this fandom tbh and this is a great one. soft dom!Adam was *chef's kiss* and there's 6 chapters of outtakes/bonus scenes from the original story

how to rescue your idiot vampire crush from the jaws of death (and maybe kiss him too) by elliptical vampire!adam!!!!!! this story is standalone but there's a greater series that is just as good! I hiiiiiiighly recommend checking out the whole series if you like vamp!aus

Different Wounds, Same Weapon by ungoodpirate i loooooove a niall is alive and meets adam story. i want to read 1000 of these, but this one would always be my favorite. the drama, the comfort, the chaos, i love it all.

[fettuccin-e]

Eddie Munson Fic Recs (Part III)

he may be dead but goddamn is he hot,,, and these fics?? so amazing holy shit PLEASE give these authors your nicest comments and reblogs okay?? they deserve the WORLD (also if you are one of these authors and want to be removed from this list, let me know!!)

Part I and Part II of my Eddie Recs!

Good Boy by @peterthepark

>> Eddie has it bad for the new girl living next door to Dustin. She's way too good for him, the metalhead trying to clear his name in a town that hates him. You're the girl next door who has it bad for the local metalhead. (mutual pining and porn that is literally fucking INSANELY amazing holy shit)

Spellbound by @eagerbby

>> After a prank gone right wrong, you and Eddie have to make up for lost time together. You've both been waiting for each other for far too long. (This is a part 2 !! so PLEASE read part 1 first both of them are painfully hot)

I Know What Those Stains Are by @sinnerlillith

>> Eddie acts like he doesn't know what the stains on his bed are from, but he definitely does. You do too. You know the origin of every single stain on those sheets. (subby!eddie god bless I wanna dom him so bad it is a NEED)

Say It by @nervousgardenerkid

>> It's been six months of dating, and though you've said it plenty of times, Eddie has never told you that he loves you. You think that he loves you, but his avoidance of those three words is enough to plant a little seed of doubt. (this, my good people, is healthy communication, even if it takes them a bit to get to it. so cute and amazing angst to fluff)

"Your Ex is Calling Again" by @eddiemunsonfuxks

>> Your ex just keeps calling you. You're over him, completely in love with Eddie, and Eddie knows it. However, he also thinks that your ex needs a friendly reminder that you're in a new relationship. (possessive sex with Eddie munson i am LIVING holy fuck)

She's Trouble by @wroteclassicaly

>> You're tired of never being appreciated by Eddie, who is supposed to be your best friend. It's time to move on, but being apart is so much harder than you thought it would be. (this is part of the collection wherein pretty men are mean and have to grovel for forgiveness. my favorite genre)

Pretty Hot by @munsonsbabygirl

>> The guitarist of the new band playing at the Hideout is hot, you know immediately that you want him. Spoiler: he wants you too. (yeah he's a sex god, what about it,,,)

Ride the Lightning by @orpheusredux

>> Your boyfriend finds something private in your room, and wants to play a game called Quid Pro Quo. Little do you both know, that little game will bring you both closer than ever before. (i- i really love this fic. eddie is heavily scarred in this story, so please be warned, but this fic is like,, the perfect mixture of sexy and beautiful)

Made for Lovin' You by @xechowritesx

>> You've been pining for Eddie for years, but you know nothing is going to come of it. You accept a date with a different guy, but it's a complete disaster. Thankfully, Eddie is always there to save you. (idiots to lovers and jealous sex?? excuse me while I scream)

[murasaki-cha]

I've recently gotten into web comics but I don't like most of the male characters in romance comics, they do some really creepy things that seem to just get swept under the rug. Do you have any recommendations for some good romance comics?

*cracks neck* I've trained for this day for years

This is going to be a combination of manhwa, manhua, webtoons and probably some manga too, of all kinds of genres, most are my favorites and I'll explain why so pick whatever catches your interest.

Post is going to be super long so:

I Stan The Prince -> starting of with a strong one, the fl writes a fanfiction about the notorious ex crown prince and raises his popularity. Now she has to work with him and write another book all while dealing with political drama and dark royal secrets. This manhwa rescently just came back from an incredibly long hiatus, it has no novel it's an original manhwa and the main couple are literally the cutest most in love mutual pining idiots ever they're married they just don't know it yet

Hidden Love -> Warning this has a 7 age gap! The story starts when the fl is 13 and meets her brothers dormmate and falls in love with him but keeps it a secret and they lose contact. Years later when she's in college she reunites with the brother's friend and old feelings start to resurface and he slowly falls for her now that she is an adult. I am going to repeat this only once, no grooming, no weird underage romance, ml never liked her like that when she was a child her romance was one sided back then, both are consenting adults now. The fl helps ml with his struggling past and makes him realize he is worthy of love. The fl is strong and confident and she's the one saving the ml multiple times. The ml is literally such a green flag even if he's a big flirt when "courting" her. It's an incredibly touching story and it even has a drama

Eternal Love/First Froat -> set in the same universe as the story above, this is about the love story of the prev fl brother and the mc, his high school classmate. Both had a crush on each other back then but the fl pushed him away coldly and they seperated. Years later they met by chance and by chance yet again ended up as roommates. Slowly they realize the feelings never went away and they keep getting drawn to each other but the horribly tragic past of the fl and the reason she pushed the ml away slowly uncoveres too. This is a beautiful story of a love that never stopped. The mcs are literally meant to be and the fl is so strong after everything she's been through. And the ml is the most patient, caring mam ever everyone deserves a man like him. Literally the standard. Both these books can be read as stand alones but there are some hilarious moments that can only be completely understood if you read them both

Savinvg My Sweetheart -> You will cry so hard while reading this. Fl is the saintess' daughter and after the death of her husband who she was politically married to, she goes back in time a few months before their marriage and only has one goal, to save her kind husbad from her mother even if it causes her death. Both the fl and ml love each other so incredibly much but both think the other hates them because of the forced marriage yet that misunderstanding doesn't stop them from being the literal greatest cople ever! The are such a healthy couple and both are incredibly fleshed out and not just making romance their entire point of existance. Fl slowly gathers powers in order to stop her biological mother who is evil incarnate and save everyone. Ml works together with fl and on his own in order to strengthen his kingdom. And the link that connects them will literally have you crying for the next 20 years. The story is more of a found family/romance and it's one of the most well written stories ever, you will almost never find one loophone everything is planned to the T

Caught By The Villain -> the ml might start bad here but I'm telling you his character development is simply 👌 ✨️. Fl gets transported into the world of this novel she read as the twin sister of a minor villain. Later she has to join knighthood disgusted as her brother and somehow gets chosen as the personal guard of the crown prince, aka main villain, but also with the og!ml which is somewhat different from the story. Ok I'm going to start by saying the title is literally the greatest clickbait ever because almost everyone but the villain catch her and discovered she's a girl. The story has great representation and discusses about a lot of topics like gender and sexuality which you almost never find talked in manhwas. The ml starts bad but slowly by spending time with fl he realizes his mistakes, sincerely apologises tho does not expect forgiveness, promises to change and does keep his word, genuenly loves and cherishes her and is an all round little meow meow and I love him. He's a bi disaster too. Fl is strong and under lots of stress. She slowly gets closer with ml and realizes he's not just the big bad evil villain from the novel and the closer they get and the more genuine their friendship becomes, the more she feels guilty for hiding her true identity from ml. And the og!ml is a special case that I don't even wanna touch with a 10 foot pole so theres that. The development all these characters go through is slow and so perfectly written you don't even realize how much they changed until you go back and realise they're not the same as the beginong

Even If You Split My Mouth -> manga with japanese urban legends which means it has some gore and body horror. The story follows a Kuchisake-Onna and her contract fiancé, a 17 yo boy who has the power to strengthen her legend with his words so she won't disappear. She doesn't want this engagement while he is in love with her so they form a pact, if she can scare him within a year the engagement is off, if not than they get married. This is one of those stories that start all silly goofy but end up having some of the deepest lore ever. The fl is super cute for a yokai and she blushes a lot every time ml flirts. Ml is completly unphased by her scare attempts and loves her to bits. They're such a dumb cute couple and their love story is so fun and sad sometimes. All the side characters are entertaining and lovable. Really there's not one bad thing I can say about this manga, it deserves more love

You Are My Desire -> high school sweethearts and later uni sweethearts. Fl moves to a new city and school after her parents messy divorce and her father's remarriage. While looking around she stumbles upon a tatoo shop and amazingly embarrasses herself in front of the tattooist. On the first day of school she happens to end up as deskmates with that same tattooist who's coincidentally the school tyrant but slowly it becomes visible this tyrant doesn't act like a tyrant at all and so a weird relationship is born out of the two of them. The two mcs are one of the best couples I've ever read. They slowly heal heach others wounds and teach each other that they love them even with their scars. I don't wanna say a lot since the manhua only has aroumd 20 chapters and there's so much story from the novel that hasn't been told yet. There's slso a drama that was rescently released

Daytime Star -> modern manhwa. An actress who has been cast as nothing but an extra for almost 10 years lands a small role where she gets to play along one of the best male actors in the industry. After that they both can't stop thinking about each other and that's how their love story begins. One of the healthiest modern manhwa couples ever! They're literally so cute they will call you single in all languages pf the world and more. I also loved that the fl slowly rose to fame almost all on her own using her own strength and talent with very few minor moments where others helped. It's a great story and it talks about the struggles of working on the korean entertainment industry too

Villains Are Destined to Die -> oh where do I begin with this masterpiece! Fl gets transmigrated into a dating sim she was playing as the villaines and she's currently in the hard mode which makes it super dificult for her to clear the game. She has to increase the affection percentage of the capture targets so she can go back to her old life and avoid the bad ending which always results in her death. This is literally one of those stories that gets you hooked on the very first chapters alone. Fl goes through so much and she's such a tragic character. All she wants is a peaceful life and she works damn hard for it. Her family is just exhausting but they slowly develop besides SOME who shall not be named. The ml, which you'll probably figure out who it is lile halfway through because he's just that iconic, is literally THE BEST, THE STANDARD! I love him so much and it might not show it in the begining chapters but he's is just perfect. The romance is more secondary tho and the story focuses more on the fl's struggles to survive and the discovery of the secrets that can change the fate of the entire kingdom.

See You In My 19th Life -> this rescently got a drama and I recommend watching that too. Fl is a reincarnator who remembers all her lives besides the first one. In her 19th life she resolves to find a boy form her 18th life who made her enjoy life again after so many reincarnations and made her wish she was reincarnated once again. She manages to get a job in the hotel he manages and immediately asks him to date. Thus begins the story of her following and flirting with her love from the prevous life without him knowing it's her and slowly healing his scars and traumas while also solving the mystery of her reincarnation. The story us full of mystery and absurdly cute couples. The ml is traumatized by fl's death since she died quite literally right in front of his eyes when he was really young and he also has a crap ton of family drama to deal with. The fl loves the him so much and tries her best to help him not just physically but emotionally too. She's like a breath of fresh air for the ml and their love is just so selfless. He loves her even when he doesn't know she's his first love reincarnated. The side couple is literally amazinv too and I would need an entire paragraph to talk about them too. The mystery of the webtoon always keeps you on the edge. Overall amazing webtoon and has an amazing kdrama!

(I'm getting tired and I have to wake up early tomorrow so I'm just gonna drop some titles with no explenation now. There might be some shounen ai in there fyi)

A Stepmother's Marchen

How To Win My Husband Over

Death To Lady White Ferret

Positively Yours

Business Propsal (Also has a great kdrama)

Sasaki to Miyano

A Good Day To Be A Dog (kdrama rescently started)

Till Debt Do Us Apart

Shoujinkou Nikki

Hirano to Kagiura

Given

The Reason Why Raekiana Ended Up At The Duke's Mansion (also has an anime)

Once More

Love Like Cherry Blossoms

Tsuiraku JK to Haijin Kyoushi (it's a student x teacher but honestly it's more of a dark comedy manga and it's hilarious so I recommend it)

I Raised Cinderella Preciously

The Perks of Being A Villainess

Ajatsuki no Yona

My Secretly Hot Husband

Ok that's all I can squeeze out of my brain for now. Hope you enjoyed the recs

[pauking5]

Addicting Taste Chapter 10

Pairing: Enishi Yukishiro x female reader oc

Genre: strangers to lovers, mutual pining, found love, fluff, spice, a lot of teasing, angst

Word count: 45.1k

TW: panic attack, mentions of anxiety, unhinged violence, some gore, mentions of heights, a lot of cursing

A/N: I know this one was long overdue but she's here for you in all her glory and pain. She's been a constant work in progress for the past five months and it's all going downhill from now, so buckle up. I hope it's good and not a bore to go through considering she's long as hell but I thought you deserved the little extra treat for waiting so long. Lastly, don't hate me but this one's loaded emotionally. I had a few cries but more from editing it so many times that my eyes gave out. Chapter 11 is already in the works but she's gonna take a while. Not too long though *wink*. Hope you missed these three wimps as much as I have. Their team dynamic means the world to me. Sidenote: we are heading slowly to the rurouni kenshin the final verse soooon ;) Can't wait for you to read all that's coming. So, enjoy lovelies. Please send some sign of life through after you read so I know I didn't go off the fucking rails yet. Kisses and prayers :')

Playlist: espresso - sabrina carpenter, favorite - isabel larosa, queen - loren gray, lilili yabbay - seventeen, the boy is mine - ariana grande, training season - dua lipa, been like this - doja cat, tears in the club - fka twigs, i think i'm in love - kat dahlia, wicked game - ursine vulpine ft annaca, broken - seether ft amy lee, don't deserve you - plumb, words - skylar grey, these walls - dua lipa, hearts - jessie ware, lonely together - sofia karlberg, borderline - tove lo, theory of light - eternal eclipse, 5sos - teeth, within temptation - wireless, rescue my heart - liz longley, and so it begins - klergy

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Asshole. Idiot. Rash, unpredictable, self-absorbed jerk.

You punched your pillow hard with every new word popping into your head that described the way Enishi acted moments ago at the breakfast table. There were a whole lot of insults and even more curse words running less and less wonderful with the growing upscale of your anger at the gray-haired man, but several questions popped in over them.

What the fuck happened to him?

I know he's a Gemini and two-faced behaviour is hard to hold back from, especially when you're being an unreasonable dick unable to interact with people. But this bipolar back and forth is too much, even for him. He's like a fucking riddle, so hard to decipher, figure out and understand, especially when all he does is close himself in like that, pushing people away like they're the plague.

He's jealous of something? Someone? Then just say that. Just say anything about your feelings so that I don't have to keep being the one assuming and wondering where you stand. Human beings like communication a lot, maybe he should try it sometimes. Sometimes soon before I put my foot through his face and carve some really nice indents under that jaw-

Jerk. Handsome, good-looking, impetuous little shit.

"UGH I WANT TO PUNCH HIM SO BAD!" you screamed into your pillow for the tenth time this morning. Koru just looked at you like you've grown a second head, choosing to retreat away to the safety of the other side of the bed.

"Damn, so you really are down bad for him."

Your head snapped to your door seeing the blonde leaning on the door frame, arms crossed over his chest and amusement ever-present on his face. He was enjoying your misery and these fucking pre-school games a little too much for his wellbeing. You spared him a look that you weren't in the mood for teasing then went back to digging a hole in your pillow, kinda hoping it would turn into a real one if you hit it harder from a different angle.

He walked over to your bed and sat on the edge just as you plunged your head deeper with a fresh wave of embarrassment hitting you like a truck.

"Is it that obvious?" your voice came out muffled.

At first, he chuckled lowly to himself at your conflicted appearance. Taking another look at you, he decided that he could push your buttons just a little more. "Want me to lie to you?"

Lifting your head briefly, you narrowed your eyes at him ready to smack him to the end of the planet in the hopes he would fall off into a black hole or something. But then you thought about it again and nodded your head, hoping he would come with some fresh new insight. Though you regretted it as soon as he opened his mouth.

"It's not obvious at all. Not like you're drooling over him all the time, chasing looks at him when he's not looking and sizing him up with your eyes for some fashion plans to revamp his really outdated and boring style," he counted on his fingers hitting every single point like he put his hand in your head pulling out your very own thoughts.

Not sure what you were expecting but it wasn't... this. If the hills weren't so far away, you would've happily ran up the slopes to the highest peak and walked off straight into the abyss of the valleys below by now, hopefully eating some grass on the way and dying. All because it really was that obvious to everyone else but not to him. That says a lot considering he's the one that goes around analyzing people and noticing stuff like a detector before you even know what goes on.

"Kill me now," you whined, crashing back into the pillow with a fake sob that sounded more like a mewl that even the feline next to you wouldn't be able to reproduce.

"Look, what he said back there was rash and a teeny tiny bit stupid," he started with a finger up in the air, but once you shot him a murderous look he recalculated his words and dropped it back down. "Okay, maybe extremely stupid. But give him the benefit of the doubt."

"Benefit of the doubt?" you sat up on the bed, appalled at what you were hearing. "You slept together in the same bed for one night and now you're suddenly not in a deathly competition to win my heart or something like that anymore?"

"Haha, I have no idea what you're talking about," he scratched the back of his neck, throwing his eyes around the room as if it wasn't identical to his own.

"I may be oblivious most of the time but I can read bullshit when I see it," you said sharp and clear. The authority made his eyes dart back to you instantly, his adam's apple bobbing nervously in his throat before he sighed loudly, shoulders dropping in defeat.

"Before you rip my head off," he reached out and put Koru between you as leverage so you wouldn't lash out on him, "just know he agreed to it too. He seemed pretty confident he could just kick me out of here if he won you over."

Motherfucker.

Was that all I was to him? Something to own? Just another sword to be displayed like a trophy in his office?

Having your suspicions confirmed that this shit was actually happening, with extra details too, was definitely not on your bingo card. He went too far. Actually, too far wasn't even fully describing how dumb this game he took part in was. You expected some shit like this from Cho because the cogs in his brain didn't always turn at a normal speed or to an intellectual degree higher than dolphins. No offense to dolphins, I adore them. But you did not expect this at all from him. Not after everything you've already been through. After opening up and being real with each other for him to throw it all on a fucking bet.

If this was his way of showing interest in you, he was doing it all wrong and backwards. Instead of winning you over, this would make him lose you. Completely.

Then it hit you. Your revenge plan could use a few adjustments. It was time you became this man's headache, raging when he least expected it, like an ever present reminder not to fuck with the female species.

Make that two men actually.

You turned to the blonde with a grin on your face stretching wider and much more creepier than your usual smile, telling him you were up to no good. And when you were up to no good, chaos ensued faster than a flint could light a fire.

It was time to play dirty. It was time to take over possessive misogyny with some pure, raw and unleashed female rage, plus some fun mind games because apparently these two fuckers loved them more than anything in the world. Unfortunately for him, but happily for you, the blonde sitting on your bed looking rather confused at your sudden change in behaviour will be the first to get a taste of it.

"What if you won me over?" you asked, physically batting your eyes at him, mentally rubbing your hands like a fly plotting to raise hell.

All he did was blink repeatedly, trying to process that those words actually left your mouth willingly. He must have thought someone put a hex on you or you were sick since he placed his hand on your forehead before you slapped it off, nearly shoving him off the bed.

"Say what again?" he asked cluelessly, tilting his head to the side.

I will repeat myself solely for the sake of my own sanity.

"Exactly what you heard," you clapped your hands together, meaning business. His eyes darted to your enclosed hands, narrowing in suspiciously as he listened in more attentively. "What if we make it seem as though you did win me over?"

"To make him jealous?" he pondered your words for a moment as you nodded eagerly. Seems like he wasn't that hopeless after all.

The way your eyes sparkled up at him told him two things - you really wanted to make mophead jealous for reasons he was able to see clearly on your face like the light of day, and the fact that he could use this to his advantage. Somewhere in this temporary play pretend, he could actually win you over and make you forget about him. It was a win-win situation either way. He was just surprised that you had it in you to join the game like that.

He took a while to gather his thoughts rendering you a little uneasy. Something told you that your motives weren't solid enough for him to accept the proposal. That he needed something more to cement it. So you threw in another side to the deal. One that was sure to get him going before you reeled back on your own plan.

"Help me," you took his hand in yours, stroking the back of it softly to appeal to his ego, "and I will grant you a wish."

"Can I wish for anything-"

"If it's something dirty-minded, freaky or horribly disturbing, your balls," you pointed at the crack of his pants, trailing your eyes up to meet his, "will be Koru's to play with."

Gulping and wide-eyed at your words, he looked down at the ball of black fur nuzzling his thigh lovingly then turned back to you, seeing absolutely no difference between your auras. Turns out adorable could also be lethal if touched wrong.

"Deal," he lifted a hand to you, tilting his head to the side with his usual goofy smile back on his face.

"Good," you shook hands, sealing the deal with your pinkies and a stamp. Just like old times.

His hand lingered on yours a bit more, long pinky and bigger thumb gripping your smaller ones gently, a lot more gentler than before. The rough boy he used to be, making empty promises he couldn't keep and acting like the world owed him everything was still there, but the mature man, a lot more sure of himself going after what he wanted was the one holding your hand now smiling warmly back at you. He did change.

Your smile slowly grew dim and shy as his golden eyes peered back at you, light and playful, enveloping you in his gaze, secretly swapping your fingers for your whole hand, sitting in a comforting hold in his bigger one. You realized he was right that night he pulled you on top of him, pressing your hand against his heart and yours, both beating almost in sync. He was still someone who took up space in your heart. Maybe not a whole half of it, but a part that was big enough to make you look at him too, as a man.

You were looking now and it would be one of the biggest lies you've ever told yourself to say that it didn't send your heart racing. There were unspoken feelings swarming in your chest even after all these years, not quite as strong but it was enough that they came back to life now.

Shaking yourself out of it, your hand fell from his large one back into the safety of your lap. Koru shimmied her way in between you, looking for head rubs and you obliged with a smile, focusing on her. Cho's hands joined in your peripheral vision, petting down the fur on her back. The feline started purring loudly, letting you know she was enjoying the double attention a bunch as you held back a chuckle.

Blondie wasn't off the hook yet. Your plan was to make both of them lose their heads and this was just one small part of it. In trying to pretend with Cho you would get Enishi jealous enough to hopefully talk to you about why he was acting like the douchebag of the century and maybe about his feelings towards you. He reacted more than he spoke, so this was your only shot at luring him out enough for him to act on it.

You would also take the blonde where he least expects it to make up for the constant teasing, though you were still considering if you were swerving towards gentle or wicked payback with him. Not so sure yet, but it was all in due time.

Either way, it was a win situation for you and a loss for them for behaving like animals in heat, treating you like a mere prize to be possessed.

They say you can see the worst in someone if you push them to the edge of the cliff. That's exactly what you were planning to do to them. Slow, hard and tense. Just the way they liked it.

You want to play power games, boys?

I will bring the fucking revolution to you.

Just you wait.

Twenty-four hours.

That's all you gave them to prepare for what they would never see coming.

You let them simmer, avoiding all contact with them. No cooking, no training and no sight of you around for the rest of the previous day. They went to each their own as you spent the day plotting your retaliation bit by bit, second by second, breath by breath.

They were on your land now, weaponless, rash and with a strong ballsy will to conquer it. Too bad they won't even reach the gates of your palace before you opened fire this time. Initiating phase one.

Getting out of bed, you headed for the heap of clothes stashed in your wardrobe and looked through it, smiling devilishly as you pulled out your secret weapon - a red and black corset mix of lace and satin mimicking a tank top. The red lace ran strident crimson against the layered black satin lines stitched overtop on the sides, from the hem all the way to the straps, tight as hell but hot on your upper body. A little fun project you let your hands wander over from scraps and basics you grabbed during your visit at the textile market.

Pairing it with black leather pants and a pair of flat combat boots, you went to the full-body mirror and took a good look. The outfit hugged your curves better than anything you've ever worn before, putting on display everything you wanted. Your hair hung in a luscious ponytail, high enough to whirl it once and catch someone around the throat with it. Perfect.

Time to get the wild hunt running.

Heading to the kitchen, your strides echoed in the hallway more sure of yourself than you've ever been. You grabbed a quick breakfast and sauntered outside with your humble companion, the jian sword with a red tassel. She's been sleeping in your room more than hanging back in its place on the walls in Enishi's office since you started bonding after she smacked your wrists multiple times. She left your skin painfully bruised but she gave you good lessons to learn from.

Taking to the spot in the middle of the garden, you sat in the patch warmed by the sun that still shone bright this late in the winter, just taking the light in and relaxing every knot in your shoulders. This is so nice. You held your palm out to it soaking the warmth in with closed eyes. Then you started training, waiting for the prey to come to you.

It wasn't long until the one of the felines caught your scent, coming to circle the perimeter in search of you.

The blonde hyena approached first, lurking by the kitchen window for a cup of coffee. Still in a slumber state, he paid no attention to the rest of the world or to you training outside, just a glance away, and went about his morning routine. He brewed his coffee the way he liked it, black with a lot of sugar in it and the tiniest drop of milk and stirred it well, taking in the smell of the steamed roasted beans that woke him a little. He lifted it to his lips just as he turned around to the kitchen window, coffee cup stilling mid-air before he even took a sip.

There you were - clad in red and black, hair swinging in sync with the red tassel on your sword, practicing what looked like advanced sword techniques. Leaning back on the marble island behind him, he took a sip of his coffee simply watching you, lips sobering up into a grin.

You moved about with the grace of a deadly cobra, a total contrast to the quiet small snake you used to be. A sense of pride filled him as he recalled how you used to doubt your every step, calculating them over and over again every mission you went on. Now, you stepped with confidence knowing exactly where your strengths laid, training with a weapon that was foreign to you entirely but knowing exactly where you wanted your blade to hit and how you wanted it to hurt. The lost, confused girl that tingled his senses years ago, was now a strong woman his heart longed for even harder.

His princess. It was part of the reason he called you that - the fact that you were still so committed to do good by vengeance in hopes it would help someone live in peace if you got rid of some of the scums crawling the earth like kings. And to tease you. Although, there was one more reason for it and one day, he'd tell you why but it wasn't time yet. Soon enough.

Before he knew it, he was on his way to the office, checking to see it was empty of a certain silver fox he despised with every single bone in his body, before he went in and grabbed the twin katanas he spotted a few nights ago. He rolled them around to get a feel of their weight. They weren't his twin katanas that got broken in a fight long ago, these ones much heavier and dull, but they would do for now.

You were taking a break on the ground, stretching your limbs around to release some tension when the blonde joined you. Confused at why he was carrying a pair of katanas with him and the fact that he wore preppy clothes, much more appropriate for training than waltzing around, his hair tied up in a small up-do peeking over his head like a pineapple, you threw him a look.

"Let's train together," he simply said, throwing you that cheeky smile of his.

One bites the bait.

Without a word, you got up dusting off the dirt and grass from your pants and got in position. He followed, twirling around the swords to show off at which you rolled your eyes, then put his right arm forward and his left backwards and you grinned, recognizing his point of combat hasn't changed - he used one sword for attacking and the other for defending, both probably stolen from Enishi's stash.

"Nice toys you got there," you nodded at the swords.

"Why thank you! I got them from your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend," you gritted out, circling him around the sunlit path.

He lifted the sword in his right hand to eye level, tracing the blade down with the pads of his fingers as if to intimidate you or something. "You know, he does seem to act like that most of the time."

"What?" you stilled, lowering your sword.

What the fuck is he on about?

Pleased that his remark made you drop your guard, he turned his blade to catch a glint of the sun that temporarily blinded you before he charged towards you opening the sparring session with his right katana coming for a slash across. Cunty move. You defended with your jian, catching the rough blade with the edge of your own, pushing the attack back before he could send the other one towards you.

He stumbled behind to catch his footing and you couldn't help a small smile from dancing on your lips. He seemed to forget those weren't his katanas, way too unbalanced since they haven't been used probably ever for anything other than décor on Enishi's walls. Most of them were blunt, stolen or brand new, but none of them saw the actual battle beside his and your jian. They were different from his own by a lot of degrees, blades way too wide turning the weight heavier. As a result, he grappled with keeping them balanced as they constantly fell out of his grip. But being the renowned sword thief that he is, he solved that problem rather quickly and accommodated to them.

Giving them another swirl, his whole body turned in a spin that lifted the leaves off the ground. Then he came at you again more sure of himself this time to send a faster diagonal slash to your side that you barely avoided. You jumped backwards just as the other katana came down to strike you instead colliding harshly with your sword, pushing against it as he tried to shove you off your feet but you stood your ground.

"Why are you holding back, princess?" he sneered, teasing you without an ounce of strain in his voice. His constant pleasure pushed you to the brink of impatience.

"I don't want to skewer you just yet, blondie," you replied, flashing him a cocky smile before you rolled forwards in a tumble, letting his sword fall into the grass, getting stuck in a small muddy patch.

Before he was fully facing you, you threw your double-edged blade at him with precision. The speed of your attack had him throw both his katanas up in defense at every hit you delivered, diverting them left and right. Where you hit your blade high into his right, you kicked the other low with your foot, keeping the same drill going as you shoved him all the way into the open tree line at the back of the garden.

Another push from you had his back pressed against an old oak tree. He barely slid out of your range of attack just before your blade could meet his neck, getting stuck in the raunchy tree bark. While you struggled with getting it out, he disappeared and hid among the dense tree line, making himself completely invisible to you.

Plucking your sword out, you advanced through the half-barren path, dry leaves crunching under the pressure of your boots. You came to a small clearing checking for any spots he could be taking cover in then stopped. You'll find him when he wants to be found. Closing your eyes, you focused all your senses into action, listening for any noise that could pinpoint his location. You knew he was watching you from somewhere waiting for you to give up your searching and head back, so all you had to do was sit there playing dumb to lure him out.

A loud icy gust of wind blew in, rustling up the branches and a neatly stacked pile of leaves in a corner to your left. Disregarding it, you turned to the opposite side knowing that was his cue to charge at you. You moved to the left just as a sharp whoosh echoed by the tip of your ear, throwing your sword up to meet his attack blade. He brought down his other one swiftly sending you into a tree. You grunted as your back crashed with the bark, praying the rough edges didn't pull the stitch work on your top. One thread loose and I will end him in the name of fashion.

He advanced to you again looking to throw you off your feet with a swing, moves threading to get an opening somewhere that you weren't guarding well. If he thought you would go down easy, he sure was as dumb as a rock. You ducked out of the way, running towards one of the sturdier-looking trees and using the momentum from the dash, you jumped onto the bark pushing with the sole of your foot at the same time you swung your sword overhead, coming down onto him from above. A little trick stolen from Enishi. Since your aerial needed more work he caught your strike with both katanas tossing you to the side, back on the patch of open grass in the garden. You landed on the pad of your knee, sword balanced behind you to keep you from toppling over.

Aerial class with Enishi is officially suspended. He's lucky I don't pay for that. He'd have amazing reviews for sure.

"Someone's feisty today," he sung walking over to you, one katana swung over his shoulder nonchalantly like he didn't just haul you over like ten meters over.

"You haven't seen me feisty yet," you retorted, up and heading for his throat.

This time, you worked with a combination of slashes, using your smaller form and improved stamina to throw him off balance and prove a point. It worked, seen as he kept stumbling over his steps unable to keep up with you, but only for a while.

You were faster than him, much faster than he would've liked to admit without letting it affect his own pride. But he had the extra experience on the field. When your blade went to dig into his side, he pushed it away almost instantly, like he expected it, whirling around you. Your sword was half-way lifted up, ready to turn around and search for him, when a katana flew in your line of sight under your chin stopping just a few inches short of slicing your neck, the other following suit around your waist.

"Gotcha, princess," he whispered in your ear, stepping closer behind you.

He had you completely caged in his hold. The blades didn't sit too close to do any damage, but the fact that he pressed to you firmly from behind was enough to make your insides twist with flurries of all kind.

You could sense his amused smirk from the way his breaths fanned the back of your neck, which was already burning hot with effort, hair on your nape raising at the cool air and his breath. He was ready to throw you another remark when you caught him by surprise.

"Teach me," you breathed out, trying to steady your racing heart from giving anything away. "Teach me how to fight with two swords."

He chuckled under his breath, entertained by the idea. One of the blades lowered down, letting your middle free but your feet stayed locked in place, waiting for him to move the other away. Instead of that he took one more step taking him even closer to you and tilted your chin upwards with the hilt of one of the katanas. You shuddered at the sudden contact with the cold edge of the blade, squeezing your eyes shut to control the erratic beating of your heart.

"I can show you a few tricks," he spoke next to your ear low and deeper than his tone sounded on the usual, sending weird chills down your spine, then moved away from you just as a sigh of relief escaped you.

You put your sword down in the grass as he motioned for you to come closer to him. He placed the heavier katana in your right hand, knowing that was your main combat hand, and the slightly leaner one in your left. You tested them in a few swings, finding it difficult to push them forwards in a slash without dropping them. Those things are heavyweights. How the hell did he even spar with these? His twin katanas were a lot more lighter on hold than these.

Stepping behind you, he pulled your arms upwards horizontally so they sat parallel to each other, sliding his hands over your inner biceps all the way to your forearms. His warm fingers padded over your skin with electricity sparks in his dive down to lock his palms on your wrists, covering them completely. If he wanted to he could just snap them broken with one move.

Since he was taller and towered over you, you were pressed flush against his torso, the top of your head reaching just below his jaw. You could headbutt him and crack his jaw if you wanted to.

He moved you around in the basic one-sword positions to accommodate the feel of the blades in your hand. "You need to find balance and patience with them."

Lifting your leading arm for a practice slash to the side, you focused on the way he led the blade from the top all the way to the ground in all but one breath, followed by your rear with force pressing on your wrist as if you defended an incoming enemy blow, bending your arm diagonally with his own, moving as one.

His forearms stretched over yours entirely to better control the practice swings since you struggled to hold them by yourself, not used to their exertion on your muscles. You watched the ramifications of muscles on his arm move together in sync, willing yourself to focus on the blade in your hand rather than the way he enveloped your whole form.

"Treat them like they're your own hand extensions," he instructed, laying both of them over each other in a front cross for defense. The motion brought your bodies closer, your back almost fully in his chest.

Your head turned to the side to find his own already angled towards you, light brown eyes searching yours for something. He was so close, holding you in an embrace that felt dangerous but safe, awfully resembling those ivory statues of fallen angels around cemeteries that curled their wings inwards as if to protect something. You were aware that being this close to him was dancing on delicate grounds, both for yourself and for him. It wasn't good. Whatever this was it couldn't happen, thundered your mind. Or it could, argued your heart. I'm not doing that charade ever again, a thought that echoed just how torn you were. You loved that charade, yelled back a younger version of you that would pray at the moon for him to look at you like this.

Avoiding his eyes took a lot of willpower, but you managed to turn your head away from him looking for a distraction. Anything that could break you out of the trance he put you under again that spurred something way too fervent and filthy in your belly, before you said or did something stupid that you would regret.

Perusing the juniper grass around the garden, you let your eyes run free to any place that looked more interesting as if you haven't been in that garden a thousand times before. They went all the way to the outdoor table preoccupied with the sheet of material thrown over to protect it from rain when movement caught your eye in the alabaster kitchen windows. In a fraction of a second, your eyes flew there and stayed fixed inside, heart getting stuck in your throat.

He was there.

Watching. Steeling in the silence of the kitchen with his arms crossed over his broad chest, looking right at you. Not at the man behind you or the way he was holding you so dangerously close or the way he breathed the same air as you. At you.

He was yards away. Not in front of you or next to you. Yet the intensity of his stare alone made you draw in a broken breath, heart pounding unsteady in your chest with every beat that passed with him still sitting there, unmoving, gaze unwavering from you in the slightest. Goosebumps littered your whole skin, rushing from your nape down to your lower spine in ardent shudders, forgetting all about the man behind you whose arms still held yours in a firm grip.

A clenched jaw. For a good moment that was the only reaction you got from him. Then he did something completely odd - he smirked at you. A knowing, full, almost pleased corner of his lips tilting up in a promise of mischief and disaster kind of smirk. Of all possible reactions you expected, a fucking smirk like that one was not it.

You blinked once and just like that he was gone, probably aware of just what that insufferable smirk left in its wake because it made something pulse deep down inside of you, so primal and fiery like it sat dormant for an entire lifetime, waiting to set alight and rage only for him. Something that came alive every time those dark eyes were on you. A feeling that you loved and hated with your entire being.

Both of them took the bait, I guess.

But what the fuck was that?

The cold evening rolled around sooner than you expected it to, without any other contact with the male species, surprisingly. You went to the kitchen, cooking up some dinner for yourself and Koru, letting your thoughts whirl with the ingredients you stirred mindlessly in the pot.

You couldn't take your mind off the way your taunts were received today. For one, Cho reacted exactly the way you wanted him to, running to your side absolutely ecstatic to join you in training. Getting so caught up in practicing sword wielding with him however, was a small unplanned detail that made your heart flutter. It wasn't part of the plan but then again, does anything under the roof of this house ever go according to plan?

On that note, Enishi's reaction was something you were unprepared for at all. Lurking in the shadows like a ghost stalking his victims, he just threw you that smirk as if he knew what your intentions were, where your plan was going. It gave you the eebie-jeebies and not in a good way. You stared at your reflection in the kitchen window, thinking so intently about how he stood in the same place as you that his stare flashed in front of you again like it was happening right now, making shivers cross your body on all sides. You dropped the spoon in your hand with a loud clatter that brought you back from your eerie vision, mumbling curses as you scrambled to get it out of the pot before it sank completely. You got it out with another spoon throwing it in the sink before the heat singed your fingers, then leaned your hands on the counter hanging your head to breathe a sigh of relief.

Jesus Christ, this house seriously needs an exorcism. I need to ask Wu for a frankincense delivery because it's getting too freaky lately.

The door to the kitchen opened and closed behind you, signaling that you had company. Turning around you were met with the blonde, a small smile of content on his face as he approached sheepishly and sat near the stove, a few inches away from you. He loomed over the pot, taking a good whiff of what you were cooking with his eyes closed - sausage and potato stew. His favourite.

Now this was by no means phase two of the plan. You didn't mean for it to happen, but it was the only edible thing you could whisk up with what little you found around the kitchen. A shopping spree into the village was way overdue, since apparently it's only your stomach who is hungry 24/7 on rotation. Definitely not the thirty bulky men lurking around the mansion waiting for food to magically drop out of the sky.

You had a hunch he would catch onto the smell and come running anyway. His eating schedule was as bad as Enishi's - they were either skipping meals to train or eating three meals at once like it was an olympic sport. There was literally no in between. Blondie however has been asking you to cook stuff for him at random times of the day lately, catching a liking to your cooking. Plus, you bonded a lot over food when you first met so it was no surprise he was inhaling the steam from the stew like it was opium smoke or something.

"Can I have a taste?" he asked in a tone so soft you almost cooed.

"It's not done yet," you replied pushing him away from the stove before he plunged his head in, stirring the pot some more.

You caught sight of the way he licked his lips, absolutely bewitched by the simmering food and you gave in. Who were you to deny a hungry tummy? Food tasted better before it was put on a plate anyway.

Leaning behind to get a spoon from the cutlery drawer, you stirred the pot with it and gathered a good spoonful from the side with some of the stew ingredients that looked cooked and some sauce. You blew on it, carefully lifting the still steaming spoon to his mouth with a hand under it in case it spilled over. He dove in and slurped the contents way too fast. This fucking idiot.

"MY TONGUE," he screeched, flailing about like a child, fanning his tongue with his hand as if that helped anything.

I refuse to believe he is the famed Sword Hunter. He belongs in kindergarten.

Some of the leftover sauce dripped down the side of his lips and before you could help yourself, your hand lifted to them, thumb swiping over the plump pink mounds from one corner to the other, tracing their outline as you gathered all the sauce on your finger. Mindlessly, you brought it back with the intent to reach your lips when your thumb was redirected back to his own lips.

You froze in his hold yet again, watching wide-eyed as his tongue slipped out to meticulously lick your thumb clean from bottom to top on each and every side, all while holding your eyes hostage to his honey orbs. Taking an empty gulp of air, you tried to keep your face composed, devoid of any sign that the scene before you that looked like a hallucination from the depths of your mind, affected you in any way. Because it did. You pressed your knees to keep it together, willing your heart to still in your chest and the throb between your legs to chill. This was not the time to get horny. Get your ovaries together, Miyu. You're better than this.

The kitchen door opened again with a crick, prompting you to snatch your hand away from the blonde's hold, stepping away to put some space between you. The feel of his soft lips trailing up and down your finger with his tongue lingered, only making it all worse. Curse men. Then your eyes flew to the door to see the gray-haired man sitting by the frame, face drawn in calm, tranquil disparity, devoid of any emotion, just looking at you with those dark eyes of his.

Damn, he's so emo today. Genuinely concerned, did someone piss in his tea this morning? 'Cause I would've liked to be first.

You were fully aware that he caught you in the act yet again. But why did it bother you so much? Why did it bother you that he wasn't reacting at all? Did he give up on the bet and winning you over? That was hard to tell. Either way it was nothing short of an oddity, seeing him stand there just observing playing some sick and twisted game alone in his head.

Weirded out and confused, you turned back to the simmering pot announcing the stew was almost done. The two walked to the table at the other end of the kitchen, taking a seat on opposite sides. They regarded each other briefly with a scowl, before they both turned to watch you work on the food.

Humming to yourself, you swayed side to side as you stirred the pot, stew nearing its boiling point. It was late evening, but your ponytail still sat high on your head since early morning, not one lump falling loose from it. Your apron sat snug on your waist, letting the red lace on your back be visible on purpose. Let phase two commence then.

The intensity of their stares carved a trail of open caves on your behind, each one digging his own personal hole with unsaid things in a dent of muscle they liked better down your back. You could feel the tension hanging in the air, zapping chills on your nape, but you paid it no mind for your own peace of mind because only god knew the dirt you imagined right now including both of the men at your back.

Enishi watched you, fist tightening under the table more and more with every sway of your ponytail that fell in sync with the sway of your hips. For some reason, that ponytail raised all senses of possessiveness in him. He wanted to pull that hair tie off and throw it into a fucking fire with every other existing band or fabric to tie it up, his only wish to let your hair free from its grasp and watch it cascade down your shoulders, wild and messy, just the way he liked it.

Cho's thoughts echoed the same pictures, though in a gentler, more sensual parallel. The blonde wanted that hair tie off too, thinking of how smooth your hair would feel with his fingers carding through it for hours on end as he drew patterns down your bare back and watched goosebumps rake your form.

That ponytail was their undoing.

Unaware of their thoughts turning as lewd with lust as yours, you focused on the stove. You thanked whatever deity makes you double the food quantities every time you cook because you had just enough stew to split it into three filling bowls.

Fixing the table up with the food and cutlery, you placed Koru's plate with her own chicken mix down by the marble island before you went to sit down at the head of the table, a safe distance from both of them. They waited for you to dig in first before they followed, a silent thanks giving for sharing your food with them. They were far from deserving of it considering how they behaved lately, but you weren't going to turn a hungry stomach away. You knew better than that.

The three of you ate in silence, tension gliding through the air in the kitchen uncomfortably, stabbing your exposed skin like a drifting torrent. Stolen, sneaky glances made their way to you but whenever you turned to catch them they were focused on the food in their bowls. Shaking the rigidness away, you pulled up a tactic to the table - playing with your ponytail.

Sitting back in your chair, you lifted a hand carding through the hair from the top of your makeshift hair tie, where it sat tight, with a languid stroke, falling to the base of it, twirling the ends around your fingers. Both males stilled, looking right at the way you worked around the length, drinking in every swirl of the locks glowing silky and luscious in the soft golden light above you. You had them wrapped around your fingers, their full attention not even on you but entirely on your hair.

The minute you let go of it, going back to eat the rest of your food, they grunted in unison at the loss of their visual stimuli. The sounds had them locking eyes, one pair dark and blazing with murderous intent, the other amused and light in teasing, both fighting each other in a battle with no clear winner.

Another point scored for me.

The rest of dinner was uneventful. You finished up on your food, getting up to walk to the sink and wash up everything. Cho followed right up, grabbing his plate and helping you put stuff back to its place to be done with it faster. You worked quickly with your new helper, since Enishi was rather absent from that role these days. Placing the last rinsed plate back in its cupboard, the blonde turned to you confused to see you with a cleaning towel.

"Let me do it," he reached out, grabbing the cloth to pull it his way.

"I can do it," you said, pulling it out of his grasp, back into your own.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Thank you for the help," you nodded, sending a grateful smile his way. At least someone in this house was being helpful and not a killjoy.

Left with nothing else to do, he turned to leave when his eyes locked on the silver fox in the corner, still busy finishing his own food, but watching the interaction between the two of you, tongue poking his cheek, jealousy written all over his face. The blonde took advantage of his moment of weakness, spinning back to you in a heartbeat. Wide-eyed at his sudden proximity once again, you were about to ask him if he needed anything when he leaned down to your ear. The edge of his lips grazed the tip of your ear just like the did with your thumb, heart thrumming loud in your ears with his words.

"Lose the ponytail, princess," he said, voice dripping with sin twisting your insides together.

Satisfied with the lethal stare pointed his way and your puzzled look, he pulled away and turned around, leaving on his merry way. You stood there with a gulp stuck in your throat and cloth frozen in the air until the door shut closed, shaking you out of it. You turned to the island with the cleaning cloth just to get your breath caught in your throat for the millionth time today.

He was watching you again. That simple, infuriating and extremely loaded gaze he fixed on you rapped your pulse upwards, stealing your breath away. You couldn't avoid it no matter how hard you tried.

Say something, your eyes pleaded with him.

Anything.

Pure silence followed. None of you blinked or moved. A hopeful gaze from you. Nothing from him. Nothing at all. Just silence that cut through you like a sharp knife, willing you to fill it. But you had nothing else to fill it with. All your words spiraled in your head on a roulette but you couldn't pull the trigger on any of them. They were all too loaded, harsh, strong and heavy to be said or felt.

Stop looking at me like it matters, you shook your head in disappointment.

Koru's soft fur rubbed your leg bringing you back to reality seeing her walk out the door. Busying yourself as far away from him as possible, you got to cleaning the rest of the kitchen. You hated how easily he gave you icy chills and hot flushes simultaneously with just one damn look. You hated how your body soaked it in every time, like an addiction you could never lose. You hated how badly you craved his attention. You hated everything he made you feel right now.

Frankly, you stayed behind not for the need to clean, but to keep him company. You hated eating alone and he deserved at least that, even if you sat in different corners, to each their own, without as much as a word spoken between you.

When he was done with his food, he joined you at the sink next to where you worked on scrubbing the dried splotches of food from the stove. He washed his plate, rinsing it thoroughly, before he wiped it and put it back in its place. You finished on the stove and grabbed Koru's plate from the floor, storing the rest of her food away for later.

It was so domestic - how you worked around each other in the kitchen like it was a normal everyday occurrence. Although, now, your egos took away from the usual peace that came with it, the ritual feeling almost empty and tedious and not like something that relaxed you on the regular.

Turning on your heels, you came face to face with him, a hair's breadth separating you. Both of you just stood there, gazing at each other waiting for the other to make a move. His chest expanded, rising up with calm and collected breaths. Yours went rampant, trying to focus somewhere else that wasn't him. You were close to exploding this time. You needed to get to your room not stay here and play hooky with someone who couldn't talk.

For Christ's sake.

You moved away first, heading to the sink behind him to rinse the dirt from the cloth and place it back in its place. Passing by him without another thought, you rushed to get to the door, hoping to get out of there faster because if you stayed any longer you would implode.

You never reached the knob.

In one swift move you were lifted off the floor and place up on the kitchen island. In a heartbeat, the strong arms gripping your waist moved to cage you in their space, hips pushing between your thighs, opening them wider on each side. It all happened so fast that it sent your vision swimming but once you started breathing in the sweet musky jasmine scent, your eyes betrayed you, focusing on the perpetrator invading your senses.

From his long, slender fingers, your eyes started a long drive up the sinews of his forearms and the veins spreading in tendrils on top of them leading under the blue sleeves, taking notice of the angry twitch of dominance that made them more prominent as he leaned forward. Climbing up further, you took the crossroad to his shoulder instead of his chest, following the crinkled neck of his kimono.

That damn indigo kimono, matching the color of the darkened night sky behind him, that covered the whole trunk of his neck so chastely, leaving out just enough for curious wander. Your wander.

The things you wanted to do to that neck were for your lips to kiss and never tell. For your tongue to lick and drag over that lump in his throat and never stop. For your teeth to graze and bite until you had enough of him. Until all you could taste was him.

Averting your eyes from it, they landed on yours truly, falling down from that disheveled mop of hair you wanted to pull on without stopping as you devoured him, descending to those eyebrows drawn in vexation observing your shameless perusal, and finally settling on his eyes. Those eyes, pitch black obsidian blazing in the darkest fire you've seen, burning, staring right back at you. Luring. Tempting. Waiting.

Waiting for what?

Jaw locked tense, nose standing tall above the arch of his lips. Lips that haven't felt yours in so long. Lips your whole body has been aching for. Lips that were pursed in full control looking for something.

By the looks of it, he was determined to get something out of you by keeping you there in place on the cold marble. A reaction, a flutter, a falter. Anything that would tell him you gave into him tonight, even in the slightest, without as much as an effort from him.

And you took him in. The entirety of him. Stretching larger than you remembered him to be, broader than your closeness to his body could capture from this angle. This view alone made your heart pump a little faster, too fast to be normal, pushing you to drag an involuntary breath in. When you let it out, he spoke to you, for the first time in the last two days, taking that breath away from you just as quick as you released it into the air between you.

"You know I can fuck you right here if I want to, right?" he stated, his voice low and raspy, driving deep inside of you straight to the pulsing mound between your legs as he fixed your gaze.

I know you, echoed at the same time in your head.

That reminder was a constant voice in the back of your mind. That whatever you did with anyone else wouldn't fulfill you the way only he could. That only his voice could boil and melt the blood in your veins. That only his fingers could graze you on the inside and outside, both in sweet relief and anguish, separately and at the same time.

Your body craved to have him even now, completely enraged with him and willing to forget it for a while. To have him in every possible way that a mere mortal could, struggling to keep the control you worked up for the past two days to keep in your grasp.

It was bold of you to assume that a close encounter like this didn't make you feel anything, other than the slight tip of your foot downwards grazing the side of his leg.

But he was wrong to assume that you would submit to that powerful gaze like last time, even bolder to be certain that you didn't have some kind of advantage this time - the fact that you've denied him of you just like he denied you of him. I'll give you a taste of me. In my way.

Latching a secure hold on the front of his blue kimono, you kept his focused gaze as you undid the material around his middle with one swift pull of the loose, messy knot that kept him so closed off. Parting the sides away, you laid your hands flat against his abdomen. Agonizingly slow, you lead them upwards, feeling the depths of his toned form even under that heavy tank top you imagined ripping apart in so many different ways, reaching all the way to his ribcage. There, you felt him pull in a breath of his own, chest expanding open under your palms, holding the breath inside his pursed lips.

You caught him vulnerable, choosing to keep composed though the tick in his jaw told you he was close to losing it. The very breaths underneath your hands telling you that he was affected. You could feel his very heart at the tip of your fingertips, beating in a staggering rhythm.

It was your time to strike.

"Are you saying you don't want to," you spoke in a sweet whisper, smooth and saccharine like a shot of whiskey, as you trailed your right palm to the collar of the top, getting closer, under the unwavering gaze of his eyes turning a darker shade with your every move.

Your hands almost reached his neck. Cold fingers almost touched what looked like sizzling hot skin calling for your touch under the pale, small, flickering light behind you, when you saw something. So small but so unmistakable that if you blinked you might have just missed it. You might've been crazy, caught in the heat of the moment, but you definitely saw the slight bent of his head to the side, giving you more access to his neck, making that cursed vein more visible to you, uncovering it from the confines of the cotton surface.

You got closer, breath fanning over it dangerously close when he finally let a breath out. A full breathy, guttural, low groan. His hands gripped the counter edge harder, knuckles turning white in anticipation because in that angle he couldn't see you. He couldn't tell where you were taking this at all and he hated it. You could tell he did, smirking in satisfaction that you got him right where you wanted filling you up more than anything ever could.

And you stopped, removing your hands from his body, sitting back on the marble top, denying him once more.

The way his body recoiled backwards in response was a reminder that he had his shortcomings too. That he could act as dominant as he wanted, push you to the brink of insanity with as much as a stare, lay his touch on any inch of you he desired, but he couldn't put you out of the game. Him, of all people, would never be able to put your fire out. Because as much as he knew you, you started learning his ways too. You knew what made him tick, what kept him coming for more, what made his eyes sparkle with want. You knew him now. And it would take a lot more than this stupid game of his to make you unlearn all of it.

Though on the other hand, he did deserve a little token of, not appreciation per se, but a taster of what he was missing by being an idiot and placing a bet on your feelings.

So, you motioned him with your pointer finger to come closer to you. Hesitantly, he leaned down reaching your space again as you leaned up to his ear, tricking him into thinking you would whisper something else that would relay your desires to him in some way, only to bite down roughly on his earlobe, dragging it between your hungry teeth.

Once your lips were connected to his skin you wasted no time, moving from his ear under his jaw to lay eager open-mouthed kisses to the crane of his neck, quenching a thirst inside of you that was banished to the dessert for way too long. Finally savouring the moment you placed your lips on his skin like it was the last time you ever had the chance, sucking it hard and rough with the ravaging need of a wolf. This, was more for your own pleasure rather than his own, though it seemed to turn him on too.

His fingers unfurled from the edge of the counter planting themselves on each side of you, palms open fully on the marble top, greedy neck pushing into your lips to cover more, search more for the right spot, hips pressing into your lower body as he fell forward between your legs. He tried keeping in his grunts but the slower you went down his neck the less he could keep them inside. Struggling to abstain yourself from touching him, you lost that battle before it even begun.

Both of your hands sneaked under the blue kimono, going to his broad shoulders, gripping onto the bands of his tank top to pull him closer and move them under the material, feeling the mightiness of his toned body tense up under your palms. His pulse went rapid against your lips, grinning against his skin, relishing in the fact that you now knew you had the same effect on him that he had on you.

You sucked and nibbled relentless, hands climbing to his nape, fingers tangling in the curls at the back of his neck as you circled the whole area near that vein on the side of his neck, hearing him come undone inside with every grunt rumbling in his throat. But it wasn't where he needed you, the prominent, hard bulge in his pants tapping the inside of your thigh repeatedly, the more you drew him closer with your legs tangled around his waist.

If it was up to him, he would've had your bare stomach pressed against the cold marble, one hand gripping your jaw raw and rough as he bit off your lips, the other pulling your ponytail like a savage, fucking you blind by now. Rutting deep inside you, leaving his scent on every inch of your skin available on the outside, scorching every part inside of you that ached for him. Greedy and possessive like an animal devouring his prey.

But it wasn't up to him.

The power games shifted your way a while ago. You took his power away, rendering his bearings haywire and he didn't even notice. His power was fully yours now and you were willing to fight dirty and wild to keep it in your hands for as long as you wanted to.

When you felt his hand sneak up to your backside to reclaim some semblance control, you unglued your lips away from his neck, pulling away in a heartbeat. Like nothing happened. Like you weren't attached to his sweetest spot, teasing him just like he teased your own in the artillery room a few nights ago, playing his own game way more brutally and intense than he ever could.

Sitting back to get your breath under control, you took a good look at him this time. At his messy hair from how your fingers pulled on it, the side of his kimono falling from his shoulder unceremoniously, at the pale skin on his neck turning light pink from how hard you bit on it. His eyes were blown wide, still consuming the rest of the sensations you left on his skin, his breaths still running a lonely marathon that you abandoned bare moments ago.

"You're all talk and no action," you said, steady as you straightened your back and patted his chest, jumping off the kitchen island all in a beat, leaving him there scattered and defeated, exiting the kitchen with a wicked smile on your lips.

You made sure he knew just what he was up against the next time he even thought of playing around with you. He didn't give you the upper hand this time. You just took it before he even got a chance to win it. You made him see how it felt being manhandled dirty and raw, left at the height of it to deal with it by yourself, left bare and open for anyone to see.

He thought no one could dominate him, tame him, deny him. He was damned if he still thought that after tonight when he let all those supressed feelings show on his face. There was one person who could take him head on with absolutely no shame or remorse over their actions and it was you.

Mission accomplished!

Miyu - 2 points. Enishi - 1 point.

I could play this game all day.

The morning arrived slowly, lazy like a warm embrace in the hands of the still winter. Birds chirped outside your window as you rolled in bed to face the white, warm sunlight, a smile of satisfaction sitting on your lips as you stretched your hands overhead.

Is this how kings felt conquering something after years of battle?

You felt like a winner after the events of the previous day, still streaming in your head as proof of your conquest, especially with Enishi. Replaying the way he looked in the kitchen last night, folded and open to your desire, had you feeling like you added extra years to your lifespan.

Koru climbed in your lap, purring in delight to match your good mood. Before you could bask too long in the positive and the gratification of your hard work, since bringing men to his knees was no easy feat, the weight of something unknown settled in your stomach. You couldn't really put your finger on it but something was growing in there, gnawing at you impatiently to figure what it is. Maybe it was nothing. Or you were just hungry.

Shaking it away, you got out of bed with a smile and went about your day as normal.

Training outside in the warmth of the sun by yourself for a bit, your feline friend keeping you company as she chased butterflies around the garden trying to catch them but getting distracted by other flying insects.

Cooking some food from the quick groceries Wu managed to get from the market in the morning before he left in a rush. Though it was not much, it was enough for the gang on the grounds.

Cleaning your room up, an overdue task that proved grounding and calming. You moved some things around and made space for a work desk adjacent to the vanity, right in the sunlit corner of the room, to stash all your spare materials and tools away.

Most of the day went on, doing things by yourself and for yourself, often joined by Koru, with surprisingly no man in sight to disturb you in any way - mental, physical or emotional. It was pure bliss, calm, serene. Absolute peace to yourself for once.

The afternoon rolled in slowly, finding you snuggled up with a book you found in Enishi's library. He had a bunch of romance works in there that no one would be reading anyway, definitely not him of all people, or the killing machines guarding the place. So, you helped yourself to the shelves, taking as many that piqued your interest back to your humble abode.

You let the large cream windows in your room wide open to get some fresh air inside, kitten settled in beside you, playing around with a spare ball of thread.

Reading away, you were deep into a really good part in the book when that feeling creeped up on you again. You didn't know if the words you read triggered it or not but something did because a familiar heaviness sat on top of your chest, a little tighter than earlier in the day. You massaged your chest in hopes it was just indigestion, when Koru looked up from her temporary toy, placing a paw on your thigh with eyes wide in alert. As if she sensed something was wrong too.

"I'm fine, little one. I think I just ate lunch too fast," you smiled in reassurance. The feline abandoned her toy and came to sit against you, letting the ball roll to the end of the bed finding you much more interesting than the whirly thread.

You tried to get back to reading but that sensation just persisted in your belly, stirring your guts up into stressed nodes. Every time you tried to get past that line your mind would pause and not take it in at all. You were on your third read trying to absorb it when the air chilled around you all of a sudden. Looking up from the book to the windows, you caught the beginning of sunset, setting down over the nearby hill in pale yellow colors, most of the light that pooled in your room gone with a beige hue. You got up to close them just as someone stumbled into your room, throwing your doors open with a bang that startled the living daylights out of both you and your cat.

"There you were," spoke the blonde, rushing to take his recently designated seat at the end of your bed. "I've been looking everywhere for you today."

I guess that was more than enough peace to last me for a year.

You made your way back to the bed, taking back your comfortable spot against the pillows. Koru gave him a toothy hiss for his lack of manners then plopped in your lap.

"I was literally everywhere today," you stated as a matter of fact, stroking her soft. "What's up?"

He turned around to face you better, goofy energy on his face turning mellow as he regarded you for a moment. The spicy ensemble you wore yesterday was nowhere in sight today - to his relief - replaced by a champagne-colored oversized shirt and a pair of navy pants. Your hair was braided messily, falling down your shoulder with a few strands loose, tied sloppily at the end with a piece of fabric matching the dark blue shade of your pants. You were dressed like you again.

Blue wasn't his taste at all, preferring the browns and reds much more on you since they flattered no just your features but your personality. But he had to admit this dark shade did suit you, comfortably chic and elegant. If anything, mophead's obsession with the color rubbed off on you too and in a rather good way.

"You're staring," you snapped him back to attention waving your hand in front of his face. "If I didn't know any better, I would say you're falling for me, blondie," you joked.

"Something like that," he replied, flirty smile back on his face.

You grinned in response, unaware of just what he harbored in his heart for the past few years. If only you knew. If only he could tell you.

Marking the page you were on before you closed the book and put it to the side, you gave him your undivided attention, blinking up at him with warm eyes that paired up with your small tight-lipped smile, the one that made your dimples pop and cheeks puff up slightly. If hearts could make louder sounds than simply thrumming with a beat, his would roar like a tiger on his way to challenge the king of the jungle, which he was currently doing anyway.

"Come on, be serious for once," you pushed his shoulder playfully, feeling your cheeks tint pink from the way he looked at you.

He hoped you couldn't tell what that look meant because that one look alone spoke of love - the unconditional kind, like it's always been there, twinkling in his eyes like a promise he couldn't make out loud. Thankfully, you thought it was just one of his very sarcastic ones, grinning back at him all-knowing but so far from the truth of it that he just let you believe it for his own peace of mind.

"Tell me what's so urgent that you turned the devil's lair upside down to find me."

He grinned back at you, chuckling at your choice of words. Whatever you were reading had you soften up into a romantic and it wasn't doing him or his heart any good. He peeked to the side raising an eyebrow as he read the title of the book laying on the safety of your pillow before you caught up to him, attempting to block his view.

"Wuthering Heights?" he leaned over you and grabbed the book, getting up before you could snatch it back from his hold. "Since when were you so lost in love that two people losing their minds over each other is your go-to read?"

How does he know about this book? From what I know he isn't well-versed in anything intellectual, including reading.

"Since when do you read?" you questioned, following him around the room to retrieve your book.

"Since forever," he hummed, avoiding you and your tiny hands at all costs, grateful that you were smaller in height but annoyed that it meant you were very fast on your legs.

He dove into the corner between the vanity and the work table, right by the window, completely covered away from you and opened the book. Your hands wrapped around his waist to tickle him but that sneak attack didn't stop him from looking at the small paper notes neatly stashed inside, hanging on the side of almost every page. Reading some of them, his eyebrows hit his hairline surprised by your opinions to every chapter he landed on. "You annotated this?"

"Yes, now give it back," you snarled back. Leaving your tickle tactic, you threw your hands around him to grab it but he turned away to the window ledge leaning over it in a way that he was bent over it and his back was fully blocking you. You muttered a string of curses under your breath, cussing him out for being so tall. "Fucking street lamp pillar."

"I heard that," he laughed.

He rushed to the page you were on a few moments before he broke in the room, pushing his broad shoulders around to keep you behind him. Eyes scaling the pages, he rushed to the last line you marked halfway read, reading it out loud.

"If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be. And if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger," he recited, word for word, his previous attempt at teasing turning into seriousness by the time he reached the end of the line and the words registered.

Feeling like he intruded on something too personal, he took another look at the sentence, memorizing it. Something just told him to. Then he turned around and gave it back to you, genuine sincerity present in his eyes. Taken aback, you took it and went back to the bed.

"Why are you here?" you asked, tired of games and eager to get back to the book, plopping back down beside Koru.

He replied to you with a question of his own.

"Remember the bonfire night a few days ago?"

The night flashed through your mind from beginning to end, spinning the cogs in your brain a little too fast that it gave you whiplash. You did remember. The slow dancing to the crackle of fire, the heavy drinking, the sword debates like it was your local sword club night, carrying two very drunk people to their rooms only to have them cuddle in the same bed. Even the small half-spoken promises made in the dark with a tipsy conscience. You remembered all of it.

I wish I could forget some of it.

"What about it?"

"I know I was drunk-" he started before you interjected raising a finger in the air.

"I would say more than drunk." He shot you a look that indicated he wasn't finished yet. "Okay, continue."

"Among other things, I remember you making a promise that we were gonna talk. About... you know. Everything?"

There it was. One of the rushed, painful promises you made that night. Your hand stopped petting Koru, luscious fur warming up under your frozen touch. Your heart fell somewhere in the depths of your stomach at the reminder that you indeed did make that promise and that it kinda expired the next day without you fulfilling it.

Cursing yourself, both for making it and not keeping it, you looked up at him only to see that hopeful look in his eyes again. The same look he's been giving you since you've met again. The one that wished to make your relationship better and clear up what happened in the past.

"I just want to make things right with you," he added, looking down in his lap with a friendly twitch of his lips, lost on what else to say.

Your own eyes darted down, busying with the design on the duvet, the maroon wooden floors, even the white swirling into golden motives on the walls as if you never saw any of these details before. You wanted to talk to him and clear things up too, but you weren't even sure where to start.

It wasn't stalling. No, not even close. There was just so much to go through and you knew starting somewhere, anywhere, would be good, but you were lost on what. On the unsaid feelings that were still there, deep in your heart, still keeping you awake at night because he never gave you a chance to let them out? On the fact that he left right before you confessed those very feelings to him or that you lost control that night killing a bunch of people in cold blood? Which one of these was a good, relatively positive conversation starter that said 'Let's be friends again'?

Then you felt that pang in your torso, making your chest feel heavy again. Was he the one making it heavy or was it something else looming over you, waiting to catch you off-guard?

You were about to answer him when an unwanted visitor cracked your door open just a notch. He peeked his head inside and looked at the way the two of you were perched on the bed with the cat wiggling her tail between you, having what looked like a heart to heart.

Before he started sending daggers to the blonde coddled on your bed way too comfortable for his liking, he remembered why he was barging in the room in the first place and looked at you with a gaze that spurred that tightness in your chest further.

"Sorry to interrupt your bonding session, but we have news." His eyes softened when they landed on you, sending the growing pit of worry in your belly ablaze as he continued. "It's about your parents."

Your heart dropped.

You sat up abruptly, not wasting another second before you were swiftly on his tail as you followed him to his office without another word. The knots in your stomach churned and twisted in anticipation, and not the good kind that had you over the moon, but the one that could stop your beating heart as fast as a snap of fingers, wishing you could just teleport there and save up time.

Was it good news or bad news? was the main question running rampant.

If they were bad again, you were probably better off digging a hole into the ground and hiding from everything and everyone for an undetermined period. Your hopes were low to zero that it could be anything good in terms of the way most of your recent leads and missions went. But the urgency in his step kept the hope alive within you. Maybe it was something good this time around. So you kept that hope close, cradling it like a kindle that could go out on the smallest breeze, bracing yourself for whatever waited for you on the other side.

Wu and a few members of the gang were already sat in the office, waiting for the three of you. By the incognito citizen clothes, too shabby to be something Wu would ever wear freely out in the world, they definitely went out to gather information from places far more dangerous than the corner of the street.

"Master, madame," Wu greeted both of you, sitting with four of his men by the side of the desk, dejected looks on their faces.

You gave them a court nod, stopping in front of the desk, confused as to what was happening that required having so many people present. That and the fact that it might be really private information that was being shared. Whatever it was, it made that thing in your chest sit around your lungs like rope, tightening more with each passing second that no one uttered a word. Until Wu finally broke the silence halting the rope a little.

"We've been looking for the prisoner that escaped a few days ago. His name is Kenzo Hebi."

Kenzo the Snake. In all the years you've been graced by presence, you never caught his name. Or knew anything about him besides the fact that his wife was a leech just like him. But apparently he knew everything about you and your family, slithering into it enough to slowly destroy it. That name suits him entirely.

"Though we didn't find him particularly, we did find his boss. He's been working for the Daos."

The Daos you encountered back at the casino? If anything they didn't look like big bad mafia lords that a businessman had deals with, especially considering their shitty poker skills. But alas.

"The Triads?" asked Cho taken aback at the info. "What does a Yokohama businessman have to do with the Triads?"

Hold the fuck up. The Daos are part of the Triads? If Enishi knew that, he left out that part back when he briefed you for the mission. You threw him a look and as if he sensed your question, he shook his head that he didn't know that either. This was new information to both of you.

"How do you know that?" you asked the blonde in hopes he would elaborate and dissipate the common cloud of confusion.

"I have a few hatchets to bury with them," he crossed his arms on his chest, leaning backwards on the marble pillar behind him. His exposed forearms flexed in tandem with his jaw, a clear indicator he wasn't selling you doughnuts. He did have history with them. "I did some digging on them to get some leverage and found that they paid the Triads for security from time to time and they were occasionally trading arms."

Wu confirmed the information briefly before Enishi took over the conversation reeling it back to the main point. That man. The sly lizard that took everything from you.

"You may know him as a friend of your father's," he peered at you, noticing the way you scrunched your nose in disgust at the thoughtless pun, shifting on your legs impatiently. "But we caught him for an entirely different reason that night."

Speed-walking to his desk from beside you, he pulled open some drawers laying out a few maps on top of each other. You all gathered closer around them as he started explaining, trying to keep up with all the new information revealing itself.

"Besides that, he stole from one of our gun factories down the Eastern side of the Huangpu River," he pointed to one of the maps sketched to outline the exact settlement of the city of Shanghai. You honed in on it, recognizing the spot to be a textiles factory, about a few blocks away from the last place of refuge that you had to vacate, since the commander's troops were on your tail. Well, more on the tail of that one gray-haired criminal that you broke out, harbored, fed and now lived with. But anyway.

"The factory is kept under a textiles cover so the commander wouldn't question it." That made a lot of sense, especially since he checked all establishments regularly to make sure they had all the necessary papers to function.

"Anyway," he continued shifting some more paper around looking for something in particular. "While we may steal from other mafias sometimes, we do make a majority of our weapons there. Usually, people know better than crossing into our territory, but somehow that fucker managed to steal most of our stock."

"So you brought him in for questioning," you added as the story started piecing itself together. He nodded briefly still shuffling the pile of maps around, eyes grazing the ink without a break.

You would've apologized for nearly killing their source of information but he had it coming anyway. You thought back to the way you assaulted that man down in the basement as soon as he opened his mouth to talk nonsense, thinking he just happened to fall there as you were looking for your parents. As much as you hated to admit, it was a good outlet for your temporary rage.

"Yes, but as it turns out he's just one piece of a bigger puzzle." He shuffled the map he was looking for your way. You picked it up to see several places, all circled around the river in strident red ink - other factories, shops and even restaurants labelled with the names of other mafias, some of them that you've encountered on your own missions before.

Enishi handed you another map of the neighbouring cities, red circles turning into an overwhelming spiral of scarlet stretching across the rest of the country.

"It wasn't just us. They stole from every mafia on the mainland."

Stealing from every mafia and undercover at that without anyone suspecting anything? What could they possibly be planning that they would go that far? Unless... No. That wasn't possible. But all things on the table in front of you pointed to that.

"Oh my god," you gasped as the realization hit you. "They're making the gangs blame each other in order to start a war."

Enishi nodded, confirming your suspicions. But if this was happening already, like Cho recalled earlier, much, much worse was on the way. Things that could be catastrophic for everyone, not just for the crime world.

"But the triads haven't been around for that long. What could they possibly win from that?" asked Cho, voicing out your very thoughts.

"Mafias control a big part of trade, both imports and exports. By blindly gaining their trust and working under them, they can make a mafia crumble from the inside and take over it completely," added Enishi, leaning forward on the desk, eyes lost in the whirlpool of ink and paper. "If they abolish the mafias they gain control of everything going in and out of the country."

A coup d'état. This was way too much to process. Not just this but what told you that no traitor was lurking on the mansion grounds right now, right under Enishi's unsuspecting nose, watching your every move, eating the very food you've been cooking, hiding in the shadows until it was time to rat himself out. But then again the whole thing with the Triads was too complex. They barely got funded a couple of years ago and they already branched themselves out like a silent poison looking to kill and replace the systems that have been around for way longer than you've been alive. This was shaking up the natural order of things that wasn't even natural in the first place.

With all of this coming to light... there was something else you kept hidden. Something you haven't told anyone before since you didn't want it to reach the light of day in case it could put you on the radar again.

A few years ago, after the whole thing with Cho happened, you went solo again. Work was somewhat going well, you were getting jobs left and right, becoming the main person people called on for their long, insatiable, egocentric hitlists. You did the jobs, you got paid, you lived somewhat comfortably in a dusty old barrack. But as much as it was good business for you, it put you in the vizor of someone you never wanted to get involved with - the Triads.

At the time, you've heard stories of other assassins getting hired by them and they almost contracted you too back in Japan. You refused because working for them would've cost you every ounce of the freedom you barely had anyway. The triads gave you a roof over your head, fed you and trained you to the best you could be, but they took away every other semblance of humanity you had to make you nothing more than a killing machine, executing orders devoid of any conscience. A puppet to be controlled in their revolt against the state.

You refused them. Multiple times. Some of them involved taking your pistols out and you didn't just threaten anyone. But they got so persistent, hellbent on having you join them that it got to the point where they followed you, watching you on your missions, finding your whereabouts at any hour of the day, until you had enough and left the country silently.

That was the main reason you tried to stay under the radar when you came to Shanghai. You did your work under a different name, changed safe houses every few months, didn't get acquainted with anyone, doing everything in your power to try and erase any footprints that could lead them to you. Because anything pinpointing your location meant delivering yourself to them on a golden platter.

You lived your life in the shadows more than you wanted to, wishing it could all stop one day. The running, the hiding, the constant fear that someone was on their way to get you and drag you back into the darkness where she waited for you, since they definitely wanted Barairo, the crimson rose, not you. You wanted to fight them, let her out to destroy them every chance you got. But you didn't know what you were up against until now.

Coming back to the present, you tried to make sense of all the new, concerning details and what you already knew about the Triads, failing to see anything in this tangled mess relating to your mom and dad.

"Okay, but where do my parents stand in all this?" you let out the long-awaited question looking at Wu, hoping that he could finally spill what you wanted to know.

Were they dead? Were they alive? Did he find them or anything else that could lead us to them?

Instead of answering you, he peered over to the very man that called you over tonight. He was sitting in the shadows behind the mahogany desk with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were cast downwards, staring gaping holes into the maps, avoiding your curious ones at any cost, despite being the one who commenced this meeting in the first place. Something was off and very weird about it. He was always so collected, holding nothing back. Why was he on the defense so suddenly? Then he sighed. A long, stacked breath of air. Enishi doesn't sigh.

"What's going on?" you pushed, stepping closer to the desk, wanting to know why he was taking so long to talk.

He hesitated telling you, trying to push this dreaded conversation aside as much as he could for the past few weeks, but he had to. He was done keeping things away from you. He knew the risk - that he could lose you either way. If he talked, you would cave in on yourself, shutting him out completely. But if he didn't, you would have your suspicions and question him until you pried it out of him.

It was now or never. He preferred for it to be never. But it was time. He could be dishonest and false with anyone else. But not with you. Not when you put your trust in him for it.

Taking a deep inhale with eyes closed, feeling nerves grip him for the first time in a good while, he pushed it out with the exhale, guilty raven eyes looking at you with the weight of steel.

"Your parents had ties to the Triads."

Time stilled as the words left his mouth one by one. Not one soul moved. Yours froze and thawed over in seconds at just that one sentence. A sentence you never thought you'd ever hear in your life.

You struggled to process the words like he spoke in a foreign language you had no recollection of ever hearing or speaking before. They rolled over and over in your head, brain working overtime in turning each one back and forth, until they started registering sharp and clear and as they did, your knees went weak with their weight. Those horrifying seven words echoed again with more impact this time, ears ringing as you scurried backwards away from the desk to get yourself seated on the couch somehow, so you wouldn't crumble in front of everyone.

Your mind ran empty of everything, nausea making her hideous presence felt so deeply in that pit in your stomach, setting fire to the incessant bellows of worry that ate at your peace little by little all day. Your eyes weren't even focusing on the worried pairs of eyes gathering around you, one more concerned than any of them kneeling down before you. He spoke, getting you to focus on his words but they weren't what you needed to hear at all.

"There's something else you should know."

What more could be worse than this?

"Our meeting wasn't a coincidence."

What?

"I know that they tried to contract you," he continued, giving you no time to think straight. "They've been looking for you."

"How do you-"

"I've been watching you for a while, way before you moved in. We've been looking for any leads on the guy and stumbled upon the Hikari name. One clue led to another and I found you."

Your eyes darted to the ground away from him, grinding your teeth with newfound anger, trying to keep your temper under control. He hasn't talked to you in days, not one single word save for the heated interaction you had last night in the kitchen. But the one time he does talk is to chirp like a fucking canary that he played Judas with you.

He lied to me.

All this time, he didn't want to take me in. He never wanted to train me. He wanted information from me. He wanted to know if I was involved in this godforsaken world in the slightest.

All this time, I was a pawn in his game. He was right. I really was just another stray he took in. I've been so stupid.

Forget the stab in the back for now. Your parents were your main priority here, no matter how much this hurt. You focused all your leftover energy on them since you might have a safe shot at finding them. Even if that meant keeping your alliance with the devil sitting right in front of you, still playing angel in disguise despite everything he just told you that he's been hiding from you for months. Wasting any more precious time, like this, was signing their death sentence.

Feeling the repercussions of his betrayal came later, you told yourself to ease the ache a notch. For now, you'd keep your own feelings at bay and fight for your parents. For now, you'd keep the anger inside just a little more.

That was until he chose to open his mouth again.

"Are you okay?"

You've got to be shitting me.

"Am I okay?! You're telling me that my parents were somehow involved in organized crime and expect me to be okay?! Do you realize how fucking insane that sounds?" you threw a hand through your hair trying to make sense of anything in this mess. It sounded ridiculous even as you said it out loud yourself. "T-they were tailors, they weren't bad people."

"I know it sounds difficult to believe, but Wu ran the information and it checks out," he added, as if your world wasn't barely standing straight already and some more truthful angst would do the trick to tilt it over fully. Fucking amazing.

You weren't going to believe it at all until you sat thinking for a good minute, going over your last interactions with your parents years ago, and certain things became way too clear in your head just like idea bulbs. Or trauma bulbs in this case.

The way that snake threatened them every time he came to the tailor shop. The fact that your parents had a lot of foreign clients coming from outside of the city, all the way to some tailor shop in the middle of practically nowhere. Or that you were living comfortably, homeschooled, safe, unlike the rest of the district that was in peak war age.

It all started to make a whole lot of fucking sense.

"Their clients, the expensive textiles they imported, even our house," your head dropped to your hands as it all became crystal clear in a messy mix of truths you couldn't swallow past that lump in your throat. "None of it was really ours was it?"

"I'm sorry," he rubbed your arm trying to comfort you, even though he knew nothing could actually bring you peace, especially coming from him after everything he just told you, after he lied. "But they weren't bad people. They were just whisked away in the midst of it all."

"Does that mean we can't find them?" you asked, hating the way your voice broke on the last word.

"On the contrary," he turned up a smirk, just like he did whenever he knew something helpful. A solution out of the hell ride you were slowly buckling into. It somehow brought you some hope that things weren't as fucked up as they seemed. Though you highly doubted that.

"If they are affiliated with the triads, even in the smallest, we have a chance at finding them sooner than we think."

A chance. That's all you needed. Even the smallest of hopes in the biggest pile of all this fantastical fuckery would do you good right now.

"There is someone who knows enough about their plans to send them to the pits of hell if he wanted. We arranged to meet with him."

Okay, that's great. A possibly wanted man wanting to meet with the leader of one of the mafias who could have him killed or put him out in the open to the Triads for them to get him killed first? Highly unlikely.

"Why do I feel like there's more to that?"

"It took some persuasion, but he agreed to meet us in the worst place possible. The Shanghai Club."

"You've got to be joking," exclaimed Cho, finally joining the conversation since his own ass could be in danger now. "That place is crawling with the commander's troops and triad members."

"That's why I said it's the worst place possible," added Enishi as a matter of fact, turning to look Cho dead in the eye.

Ignoring their bickering, you gave it a thought. You had a safe shot at finding your parents this time. Sure, it could end up in a bloodbath no one wanted to wipe clean after, but you were willing to take it.

No more waiting. No more looking around to find fairy tales from random henchmen caught red handed with information that was common knowledge in their world. It was time you decided what you wanted to do and right now that was following your incredibly twisted guts. If you had to dive into that hell again, then might as well do it on your own terms. 'Cause the first time went fantastic.

"When?" you simply asked.

"Hold on a second. You're not actually thinking of going are you?" asked Cho, though it wasn't really a question and more of a statement that he would get in your way. "That's a suicide mission."

"I have to," you played with the hem of your shirt, trying to calm a shrill of tremor climbing up your hands. "They're my parents, Cho. I can't just leave things like this. Not now when we have a certain lead."

You turned back to Enishi with hopeful eyes finding his own still on you, waiting for your answer. This was probably the last thing you would trust him with ever. "It is certain this time, right?"

He didn't hesitate to nod his head, a genuine want to help passing through his eyes at your question. Good.

"If we're going there, we're gonna need new outfits!" you chimed, trying to find a way to get out of the room before the walls would cave in on you and someone took notice of the unnatural way your hands started shaking. That knot in your chest tugged at you more insistently now with the heavy tension in the air and the multiple pairs of eyes watching you with pity, the one thing you hated the most in the world.

"I want both of you in my room later," you added, nodding at the two men that would accompany you. You only registered how suggestive your words sounded after they left your mouth, all eyes in the room staring at you widely, only adding to your discomfort. Men.

"To get you sized and ready, obviously," you clarified and with that you shuffled off the couch and left in a hurry without looking back.

The two males exchanged a look, trying to make sense of your behaviour, expecting a different reaction to all of this, not you being ready to stitch and sew outfits in the dead of night. The blonde shrugged in response, lost on what to think anymore, more preoccupied with finding an escape route of this. But something about your reaction rubbed the other one wrong, watching your back retreat out the door with growing nerves himself.

You walked this hallway so many times before. But right now for some reason it seemed to stretch longer, wider, walls tilting in on each other under the weight of gravity. Each step on the creaky wooden floors made you jump in fright, the trepidation of your heart louder than the constant ringing in your ears, heavier than the bile gradually rising in your throat.

Taking faster strides to reach the familiar tall oak arches, you pushed the doors to your room open. Going straight to your work desk, you pulled out all the materials you could find to start working and get your mind off things. Pacing around from corner to corner, unable to locate the cushion of needles you always, you ran to your vanity as your heart pumped faster. You searched around and messed up the recently organized drawers, throwing things on the ground behind you, hands shaking with anxiety only to find the damn cushion nowhere in sight, more worry gripping you.

You took a look at yourself in the mirror, staring at the dim orbs that resembled your mother's eyes. The faces of your parents flashed before you, standing next to each other in a tender embrace, expanding that painful throb in your chest.

What if I will never find them? They were gone for so long. There might be no trace of them on earth anymore. That simple thought made each breath your lungs took harder to call inside, taking you even longer to let them out. Your vision darkened, a new wave of dizziness throwing you off balance as you grappled with your breathing that was slowly going out of control, coming out in shorter pants and wheezes.

Panic filled you from that annoying pit in your belly, stretching upwards inside of you to grab onto your neck as if to strangle you for ignoring it for so long. To make you pay for every missed chance of finding your parents. For every connection you built on blind, broken trust. For every life you took that probably didn't even deserve it. For following the worst of devils on earth fooling yourself they would save you. For being a failure in every fucking way and not being able to do one thing right by your parents, by the people you cared about, by yourself. For everything you did, for all you were doing and for everything you will do. You lost the fight. You let your own personal inferno come alive.

I warned you, a voice echoed inside of you head, dark with malice and death. You leaned your hands on the vanity table, your whole body trembling, spasming under your weight that seemed unbearable to keep on your own two legs, struggling to stay upright. This wasn't happening. This couldn't happen.

Not right now. I can't lose control now. Not when I'm so close to find them.

You caught the glimpse of a silhouette in the vanity mirror, entering your room in a haste. Maybe it was death remembering you existed, finally coming to take you away as payback for avoiding its call to hell so many times that it found it amusing and let you simmer until you finally broke yourself. The devil surely loved the sinners that did it to themselves the most.

The shadow moved behind you, looking less like a demon from hell and more like a human being the closer it got to you. Maybe it was one of the angels still around you, fighting for your redemption against all odds telling it you couldn't be saved. That you didn't deserve the saving.

Whatever or whoever it was, they called your name with a voice so angelic, like a dream was playing before you in slow motion. A tone so holy that you could trust it to take you anywhere it wanted to, whether it was heaven or hell. It might have been your hallucination kicking in as you were falling apart. It tried to get your attention but they seemed so far away. So, so, so far away from the abyss you had one leg inside. Until their arms wrapped around you, secure and supportive, stable and safe. Maybe it was your mind cooking up nonsense, but you felt that hold on you like someone was actually holding you for real.

Their secure firm tightened around you just like the panic pressing down your neck sending you into sensory overload. You refused to let go of the vanity table, your only anchor to reality, digging your hands into the wood so hard your nails chipped at the edges. A hand came up to your cheek, cupping it gently to turn your face towards them. You stared at the blurry blob in the shadow morphing into a face, slowly becoming clearer in the haze. Their mouth that moved with a voice so angelic before turned into a velvety demonic sound, words finally making their way to you, drilling loud into the quiet.

"Look at me," he demanded, tone warm and steady to get you to focus on him.

Him. You needed to get away from him. You couldn't be near him right now. He hurt you. He broke your trust after you gave it to him with everything you had. All your secrets, your pain, your heart, all of it laid out on a silver platter. He took all of it and threw it into the fire, sitting on the sidelines without as much as looking back to see what was left of you as the ashes scattered away. He used you. He didn't need you. He's better off without you, that voice pushed again.

"Go away," you croaked out trying to shove him off, even as your hands shook uncontrollably and your knees locked in place.

He only held you tighter to him, musky scent you loved so much turning into a burning ash stench as you struggled to inhale any speck of air inside. You slumped against him pathetically, still holding the vanity in a death grip, refusing to let go and give up control. Give it up. Let me out. I can take care of him.

"Look at me," he commanded this time, demanding your attention. Moving anything was taxing, but when your blurry eyes brimming with tears finally caught his, willing him to let you go, he just wouldn't budge from beside you. "I need you to breathe, Miyu."

No, you don't. You need to let me out, she hissed so loud, sending your thoughts haywire.

You choked on a half-sob, trying to get air inside. You were trying. God, you were really trying.

But each haggard, piercing drag of air you ran after slipped further away, turning your chest into nothing more but a lead carcass, just as heavy and constricting as the barrel of your pistols must feel for a bullet. You shook your head, more tears spilling over your cheeks.

"I c-can't."

"Yes, you can."

He worked to loosen the grip of one of your hands on the edge of the vanity table, successfully plying one of them free. He placed it against his chest, letting you feel the beat of his heart, alive and working. He was real. So, so real. A lot more real than the voice in your head. You felt his chest expand under your palm, up and down, his own breathing calm and normal, alternating in rhythms. You tried to follow it in one brave, sharp intake of air but all that did was send needles to your own chest, pushing a pained moan through your throat.

You were drowning. Your heart was beating way too fast for it not to explode any minute. Your lungs weren't working with you. You were ready to accept it and sink into it, ready to let her do whatever she wanted and lose yourself, when his forehead pressed into your temple to keep you tethered here, keep you with him, keep you fighting. He was damned if he let you give into it right now.

"Please breathe for me," he begged, eyes blazing in a frenzy, trying to keep his own breathing stable so you could follow it.

Enishi Yukishiro didn't beg for no one.

The desperation in his voice scared you. It told you he would raise bloody murder to the entirety of the globe if you dared to let go right now. You didn't come this far for nothing. Your struggle wasn't in vain. You still had so much to fight for.

You swore to help him avenge his sister. He swore to help you find your parents. You couldn't let go now. None of those promises were fulfilled yet by either of you. She definitely wouldn't fulfill them. She would kill him before she even took her first step out of that cage. You couldn't let that happen. You couldn't let her. Oh, but you could, she taunted caressing those iron bars with sweet temptation. I will die before I let you touch him.

You tried a few more breaths but they barely went in, crunching the material of his kimono in your fist, pushing your lungs to work with you and take a fucking breath. Pathetic. Frustrated and defeated with yourself, you cried out wishing for a miracle when he spoke again, picking up the very broken pieces of your heart that he shattered with his own two hands, attempting to put them back together.

"I don't regret finding you. I don't regret taking you in. I don't regret anything we've done together. You're not alone anymore. I'm not alone anymore. I like having you around."

Letting his fast mix of jumbled words wash over you, you dug deep into the abyss clutching your heart and your lungs harder with each passing second, looking for a way out. There's no way out. There is always a way out. There had to be one even now as your world seemed like it was ending.

"I need to have you around, Miyu. I promised you I'm not leaving you. I'm here. I'm right here."

You tried again and again and again and again and again. You ran and ran and turned around in the pitch black of your mind that was shutting down, aimlessly looking for a speck of light to lead you out.

"You're strong enough. Come on baby. Breathe with me."

His voice became your saving grace in that moment. He became the surge of light you needed to follow in the darkness. With each word a brighter speck of that light lit it up, making it go back to its place away until it was unable to touch you. Until you couldn't hear her anymore. She was gone.

After what felt like forever, listening to his endless pleas, feeling his heart beating under your trembling hand and his touch holding you close, you were breathing. Somehow, the more you tried more air was finally available to you.

Leaning on the vanity, half-supported by him, you took more air inside like you were taking your first breath in the world, unaware of all that was waiting for you. That first inhale was raw, the large gulps that followed stabbing your dry throat as if knives had a parade inside its walls, fully aware of all that you've already been through. Fully aware that this was only the beginning. But you kept going.

His other hand came to sit around your waist, rubbing circles into your hip, small and large matching the rhythm of his breathing so you could focus and follow it as a guide.

Slowly, the breaths you took went down into your lungs deeper each time, filling them up with much needed air. The bile that rose in your throat went back inside. The chaos in your soul went quiet again with him by your side, holding your hand in the center of his chest the whole time. His fist closed over yours like a safe, guarding it there on top of his heart, not once letting go.

The darkness in your vision cleared a bit, leaving just a few dark spots lingering as you focused on the creature in the mirror looking back at you, resembling you. It was you - paled over, looking like a ghost, shaking like a leaf in the wind, held together by the man beside you.

Your hands stopped shaking, receding to an occasional tremor. Your heart still thundered wildly, still agitated from the thrill. Lifting up the hand you held onto the vanity table to test your balance was a bad decision. The moment you took it away, your whole balance left the safety of the wooden block and you swayed to the side, knees buckling under the sudden movement. But he caught you before you could fall into a pile on the ground.

"Fuck, stay put will you," he rumbled, gathering you in his arms to carry you straight to the bed.

He let you down on the mattress gently, placing you against the pillows and sat down next to you, taking your hand in his. His fingers settled on your pulse point, relief washing over him that it was slowly coming down from the high you were on. He did that a lot as you trained, chastising you about keeping yourself at a normal rate since he discovered you were prone to dizzy spells. Even Koru climbed in the bed, sensing something was wrong and nuzzled your thigh in comfort as you took a few more breaths in, this time to stop the leftover palpitations.

Reaching out to touch the side of your face, he swiped at the leftover tears that were still falling free. His fingers brushed away the hair sticking to your face as you focused on clearing the heavy weight in your chest, loosening apart that tight rope breath by breath until you couldn't feel it there anymore. It was gone just as fast as it came.

He cupped your cheek, drawing your eyes to him. His creased brows and the tension in his hold told you he was still worried. You didn't want to, but you leaned into his touch, almost naturally welcoming his comfort and to soothe both of you someway.

"Thank god I found you before something worse happened."

I didn't kick the bucket yet, you swine. And if I ever do, it won't be under your roof.

Feeling too self-conscious, you looked away from him, gaze falling on the mess you made in the room when you barged in, from the carpet around the vanity littered with all kinds of trinkets, darting to the heaps of fabric on top of your work desk. He followed it, a knowing look replacing the worry on his face. You still wanted to put yourself through working on those damn outfits right now.

"You need rest. Those can wait until tomorrow since the meeting is two days from now," he reassured you. "You have time."

"I'm fine," you said, frowning at your scratchy throat.

Were you saying that for him or for yourself? That didn't really matter right now. What mattered was doing something that didn't let you sit and overthink once your mind caught up to you, though it would take a while since it still felt like cotton was pushed around in it in every corner.

"If you didn't just have a panic attack," he started, handing you a glass with water from the pitcher on the nightstand, "I might have just believed you."

"I don't need your worry," you retorted, sitting up to drink the water.

"You're resting. Not up for discussion. If you as much as think of putting a foot out of the bed for anything other than going to the bathroom, I will have you tied to the bed."

"You can't do that."

"Watch me."

Too tired of this back and forth, you turned around to the other side, feeling furious. He treated you like a child in need of a time out session. Well, he might as well watch your backside for all you cared. You were too exhausted to throw a bigger tantrum right now though he did deserve to hear the end of it.

He stayed with you, absorbing the resentment seeping off of you. He deserved the cold shoulder. He wanted to come clean so many times before but there was always that doubt telling him that it would rip the bond you had at the seams and nothing would be able to fix it. He cared about the connection you had. It was the only real thing he had left. He cared so much that keeping things away from you proved harder as time went on.

When Wu walked into his office in a rush this afternoon and told him what he found out, he knew it was time to atone for it. Even if that meant hurting you in the process. Even if it meant you would be mad at him for the rest of your lives.

Dragging a hand over his face with a small groan at his own stupidity, he let his eyes fall on you, taking notice of the steady rise and fall of your back telling him you fell asleep. He got up and draped the covers over you before laying one of the softest kisses on your temple, his silent promise of protection whenever things went wrong between you. That you always had a place to run to when you needed it. Even if you didn't want it anymore, he would always welcome you. Wait for you.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against your hair, taking in the warm rosy scent of it to settle the guilt swimming in his gut a little. "I will explain everything to you soon."

With that he got up, turning for the door. He creaked it open then turned back around once more, spotting the dark ball of fur already laying by your side.

"Make sure she rests," he told the cat who just meowed at him in response, cuddling closer to you with a loud purring noise.

And now he was talking to the cat.

The dawn of a torrential downpour roused you from sleep. The sky ripped open, angry raindrops rapping against the glass violently mad as if to break inside. The wind hastened, howling nature awake. Lightning crackled bathing the room in bright white, followed by the deep rumble of thunder thunder reverberating so loud it shook you awake. It couldn't have been earlier than five in the morning, the world still dark and gray outside your window.

The beginning of a painful headache graced you, throbbing in pace with the heavy rain, splitting your skull at the crackle of lightning. You rolled around the bed on heavy limbs, hand aimlessly tapping the nightstand looking for the water pitcher. With a struggle, you pulled your body up in a sitting position only to frown at the lack of water on the cabinet. Both the pitcher and the glass on top were empty of even the smallest drop of liquid. Great.

Scrambling to the edge of the bed, you held your head, trying to get it to focus on the task at hand - getting water. If you had any chance of getting back to sleep you needed it. Something pawing at your feet grabbed your attention. Koru. She sat there, looking at you with those round balls of bright yellow glowing in the dark, meowing. You moved your leg away only to have her paw at it again and sit on it, meowing louder.

Not you too, you sighed.

You leaned down to give her a soft pet on the head for her caring nature, looking back at the empty glass with a long sigh.

If only you could bring me water, little one.

Suddenly, she got up from your feet and sauntered out through the small crack in the door. You would've followed her if it wasn't for the nauseating feeling rocking you like a boat on a furious sea. So you sat back in the middle of the bed, holding onto your head.

A few minutes passed, rain falling harder against the windows, headache turning into a full-blown migraine. No amount of massage or pressure from your fingers or rolling around the bed in different positions could cure it. Absolutely helpless, that's what I am.

The door cracked slightly ajar. You paid it no mind thinking Koru came back from her spontaneous stroll. Instead of a meow or paws paddling the floor to reach you, you heard lean steps, the rattle of glass and the sound of liquid flowing from one recipient to the other.

The bed dipped in front of you with a weight heavier than Koru's. Confused at who it could be this early, you let your hands fall from your head to look up and find a surprisingly awake Enishi holding out a glass for you, filled with water all the way to the rim.

You took it without a second thought, gulping down the whole thing in one breath. It went down your throat so rough but so soothing, getting rid of the stabbing dryness coating it. Asking for another, he went to pour it as you wiped the leftover drops hanging on the bow of your lips. He handed it back to you sitting back in his spot, joined by your dear black fur of ball that nestled by his leg. Turns out deception runs in the family, you thought, watching the two bond over keeping you in bed at any cost.

Glass back on your nightstand and throat somewhat better, a pang of pain returned, sending you to lay back down under the covers. You hoped you could find some comfort now that you had some water. Wordlessly, he got up and tucked you better under the duvet, drawing it up your back all the way to your nape. He spared one more look at you, cuddled up to sleep with the feline and left, closing the door fully this time, taking the small flicker of light he left you with away with him.

The next time you woke up, it was almost lunch time. The dark storm in the early morning left quietly, but the sky remained dull, devoid of any other color but gray. Just like my soul. The sweet smell of food wafted into your nostrils on barely the first conscious inhale of breath. Your stomach instantly grumbled at the delicious scent, only for you to turn in bed and find said food on a plate on the nightstand.

Blinking away the sleep from your eyes, you sat up examining the contents of the plate - dorayaki pancakes. As big as the palm of your hand, neatly folded at the opening and round with a bunch of filling. His apologetic pancakes. Huh. What is he playing at now?

Reluctant, but hungry, you took a bite, letting the berry jam filling melt in your mouth. He left you orange juice too on the side, tasting refreshing after the sweet brunch. If only his personality was this sweet all the time, though that was a stretch knowing him.

You felt better, either from the multiple sleep rounds you took or the pancakes. Not at one hundred percent, but still much better than you did last night. You had a long list of things to go through - talking with you know who, talking with blondie, a whole lot of talking. But for now, you had enough fuel and energy to get down to work on the outfits for the meeting at the club that was in less than forty-eight hours. Yours especially.

You changed out of yesterday's clothes and picked up some of the mess around the room. Finally sat down at your work desk, you browsed through the materials you had available - red satin, burgundy velvet, indigo satin, some green cashmere and black chiffon. A goth lover's dream. Blondie was right, that book did take a toll on you, among other things.

All things aside, red was your color. You always wore red, no matter the occasion. Even if it was just an accessory, like your mother's pendant that was on you at all times. It was you, in either shade or material. Blazing like a flame on its way to eat half of the world if as much as one gust of injustice blew your way. Crackling to a strong kindle if you were sputtering out in the cold of uncertainty. Drenching everything crimson if you needed to protect something.

You breathed red.

Unfortunately for you, you were left without scraps, only with new, untouched rolls of material, which meant you had to start from zero. You were good at stitching two or more different pieces together, reworking them into something new, but you never worked on something from beginning to end.

Working with a blank canvas was your mother's specialty. You never understood how she just visualized a client's order in one whole standing piece, full of detail and precise flair. The most you ever did from zero was a pair of pants that you had to wear backwards for them to work and not look weird. Sketching wasn't your forte either, much more your father's talent. You did know weaving, stitching, knitting, embroidery, anything that was a basic technique with textiles. But everything else was pure luck of the moment if inspiration somehow happened to hit you. Let's look for some inspiration then.

You walked to the wardrobe in the other corner, pulling it open to look through it hoping to find it there. Scanning all the heaps of clothes, your eyes landed on the dress you made for the ball a few weeks ago - the revamped wedding qipao. Enishi's shocked and appalled reaction flashed in your mind recalling the way you walked out in a new rehabilitated rendition of his expensive golden kimono and that cursed qipao. Chuckling to yourself with a pat on the back at the idea, you studied it a little, feeling like it was too on the flashy, gown side to be reused again, especially for a club. High society clubs required something classier, light, somewhat hot, but modest and combat appropriate all in one. Not a huge checklist at all.

Spreading out all the fabric and some clothes from the wardrobe on the floor, you sat in the middle, looking at all of them. Then you closed your eyes, willing the gods of creativity to give you some. You took a few deep breaths, focusing on visualizing a dress and some details, hoping something would pop into your head if you tried hard enough. Come on, brain. Work with me. After a while, you opened them back up, frowning at the mess of fabric around you with still no idea. That usually worked, especially if it was mission attire. Before you could get up and scour some more, a distant memory hit you like a truck.

A long, long time ago, back in Yokohama, your parents had this really stylish lady as a client. She came in one day, at the recommendation of a friend, looking for a dress for an overseas event. Her specs had some of your current requirements, heavy on the classic, save for the combat and hot features off the list. Your mom worked weeks on that dress, getting it as perfect as it could be. When the lady came by to pick it up and tried it on for one last fitting, she was stunned. The dress fit her like a jewel meant just for her, putting her uniqueness on display like she was part of the royal family.

You yourself fell in love with that dress, asking your mother to make it for you time and time again only for her to refuse. "I will make you one, far more beautiful than that one when you grow older, my little light," you recalled her saying softly.

Well, here I am mom, making it myself.

Grabbing the satin, your usual go-to, you measured the fabric and layered it in the shape of a skirt on a mannequin you bought from the village, measuring the exact diameter of your waist and hips. Marking the start of it, you pinned it to the dummy and worked down the hem line, drawing the drop bigger, pinching the material from top to bottom with needles.

Then you tugged the velvet open, working some of it in the shape of a bodice for the top part. You set that on the mannequin, fixing the rough shapes around and stepped back, looking at the mix to get a bigger picture. It looked okay... but the dark red on light red didn't work at all. The satin was too shiny and the velvet way too dark.

The more you tilted your head on the side, it looked even more mismatched. This is where your father would walk in to say, "I think you should change the colours, darling. It looks like a bed of roses threw up on the mannequin." He wouldn't be wrong.

Okay dad, one shade of red works then.

Whirling back to the mess in the center of your room, you noticed a roll peeking from under your bed. Since it wasn't in the pile on the desk, it must've been one of the items that ended up on the floor last night. You picked it up, rolling it open a bit - ruby velvet. Not too dark and not too light either. The dark shade matched the velvet top on the mannequin but it could work by itself for both a corset top and the longer skirt. Adding some sleeves and pulling the neckline a bit higher. Some ruffles on the bodice to give it more depth and frills on the sides to make it flare...

Okay, this can work. It would do.

The afternoon was in tow, sunlight brimming merrily through your window. You just finished working on the body of your dress and the rough shape, left with sewing the skirt and adding some small details here and there.

Shoulders, back and legs aching from standing too much, you decided to take a breather, laying down on the carpet to stretch your sore limbs. Eyes closed, resting on the warmed patch of sun on the cream carpet, you took a well-deserved break. It felt so good to have the sun on your face, even if it wasn't directly from the outside. It still felt so comforting, relaxing your body and warming you up with much needed serotonin.

Stolen away by the peace of the moment, you failed to notice the incoming company, sliding in your room as quiet as a mouse. Since you had your eyes shut, laid on the floor with arms and legs wide open like a corpse, he was quick to rush to your side to check if you were still breathing. Taken aback at the shift in the air around you, your eyes slowly opened to see him, right above you. His brawny, large palms pressed to the wooden floor on either side of your head, keeping him upright, while his eyes searched yours with concern. You just blinked up at him, confused. Thanks to the length of his arms, the space between you was big, though not big enough to still your rapidly racing heart.

Sitting in the silence of your breaths and the white noise coming from the open window, you just looked at him for a bit. His eyes were no longer dark, lighting up in a softer chocolate tone with the glow of the sun beating from the side. They weren't as intense as yesterday, way more tender and warm now. The usual blue rim on the sides, really noticeable when he was mad, was now a deep amber, complimenting the earthy brown pooling around his pupils. He really had the most beautiful and captivating eyes you've ever seen.

"I thought you dropped dead."

Way to ruin the moment.

"Get off me, mophead," you pushed against his shoulders trying to sit up but he didn't move at all from his position, letting you crash right into his chest. You frantically grabbed at the mounds of his back to not fall backwards, instead diving head first right into the crook of his neck. And he still didn't move.

You clung to him like a koala, eyes darting all over the place in a frenzy because if you looked right ahead, you would be met with that stupid neck of his. The close proximity alone invited you to take a whiff of it, noticing that the woody aroma that regularly hit you first was less present, totally overpowered by the rich, sweet and fruity jasmine. You nearly threw your head back with a moan at how good he smelled. Traitors weren't supposed to smell so good, so addicting.

"Why are you on the floor?" he asked, words rolling so husky off his lips that it had your belly tighten. Your body was no stranger to what that tone could do to you, especially so close to your ear that it shook chills awake down your back.

You didn't reply, distrusting your own voice. That only spurred him to turn his head to you. Before it could turn fully and cage you against his neck, you let go of his back forgetting that the hard wooden floor awaited you. Before hitting your back on it hard, giving yourself another pain you didn't need, one of his arms reached out to catch you, splaying flat on the middle of your back. He was holding the both of you up with just one arm fixed on the floor without a shake or a sway of the strain it took on his muscles. That's hot.

"My back was hurting and it was warm," you replied, gulping down air as you met his eyes again. Warm. So much more warmth than the heat of the sun could ever provide.

"But there's a bed," he stated, watching his brown orbs dart to your lips and back to your eyes a few times. Their rapid movement was almost hypnotic, putting you in a trance. The white and golden colours on the ceiling all swirled behind him, not one quite as powerful and bewitching as his own aura. The only thing that gave you a high so dangerous but so heavenly. A high that nothing else on earth will ever be able to give you. Will I ever be able to quit you?

"There's a bed," you repeated, more like a question than a statement, too stolen by those eyes to think straight. And he caught that. The way your pupils dilated and your lips parted told him you weren't quite here. So his gaze turned playful, preparing for a tease attack you wouldn't be able to get out of.

Lowering you down to the floor, he caged you between his arms again as he bent down, closing the distance between you. Breath caught in your throat, you pulled your arms closer to your chest in reflex and feigned protection, only to see the corner of his lips turn up with a mischievous smirk.

That goddamn smirk.

"Tell me," he started, tongue peaking out from the confines of his mouth to lick his lips, so plump and inviting, in devious teasing, "what's a bed for?"

He was completely taking advantage of your dazed mind, trying to play games with you and you just let him, unable to escape it.

"A bed is for... uhh... sleeping obviously," you replied unsure with a nervous giggle, more focused on how close he was to getting to your lips. They've been aching for him for so long it hurt that he was so close but not moving towards yours. Though his arms were almost fully bent on the elbows beside your head, nose almost touching yours, lips not headed for yours at all.

"Just sleeping?" he quirked a brow, pressing into your body at all the right angles, in all the places that yearned for it. The inner side of his biceps pressed into your shoulders on each side keeping you in place. His defined chest sat right onto your raising breasts, perking up slightly under your top from how much he turned you on. His torso jammed flush to yours, moving up and down, expanding with shallow breaths into each other. His hips dove right into yours, between your legs, feeling the mightiness in his pants bulge right onto your core. If he as much as breathed, it created friction in every single place he touched indirectly, overwhelming you in the worst way possible.

You closed your eyes to keep your breathing from spiraling and try to focus on something else, only to shudder at the feeling of his lips attaching themselves to your jaw. They didn't kiss it, hovering over the sensitive skin instead, blowing hot breaths on it, making your back arch instinctively at the near contact. Near. So near. They simply brushed all the way under it, heading upwards to your earlobe, grazing the side of your ear with temptation as he whispered, " What else?", so quiet and sensual that you whined audibly.

Heart pounding wildly, mind spinning out of control, breathing uneven and fast, your entire body so hungry and lusting for a booty call you didn't even initiate but craved like a feral wolf in heat. The Enishi Yukishiro effect.

"Why are you here?" you rasped, head rolling to the side, so dizzy and full with his presence and the sensory overload.

He loved the effect he had on you, turning you into mush with as much as a stare and his touch that implied his intentions with you were either soft and sweet or tainted by dirt and sin. Right now they were the latter.

"You called me over, remember?" he answered nonchalantly, tilting his head to the side with a grin, lacing his hands together above your head, acting so innocent. As if he didn't turn you on to the point you could jump his bones right there and regret it later.

"For the fitting," he added. The fitting, that's what you needed to focus on.

"Oh, right, the fitting." Sobering up like cold water drenched you instead of heat all over your body, you pushed him harder aside managing to get out from under him.

At last, you were up from that sinful place on the floor. Stretching your arms over your head and clicking your knees, you walked away like nothing happened. His eyes widened at your sudden change in mood, but that grin still sat on his lips when he turned around on the floor to see you better. Heading to the work table to pick up the suit he wore to the ball, you caught the grin turning into a grimace at seeing it again, recalling how uncomfortable it felt on his body that day, constricting even his air flow. You shook your head, giggling at the plain disgust on his face.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," you snickered, waving him off.

"Well, something is if you're laughing like a maniac."

"Your face is funny."

Pulling on a scowl that nuked his previous excitement, he got up off the floor, crossing his arms over his chest in disapproval at having to wear it again. He visibly sulked, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. He truly is the most Gemini man I have ever come across.

"Don't worry," you assured him, pulling the outfit off the hanger. "I will make some adjustments to it and dress it down."

"What adjustments are we talking?" he raised an eyebrow, not liking where this was going.

You walked to him and patted his shoulder in encouragement.

"Get naked, hot stuff."

Handing him the pants, you turned around to give him some privacy to get out of his daily wear and into more proper clothes. You liked kimonos on him, you really did. But a suit and tie made the man look like a model. Okay, maybe you just liked how it compressed his biceps to the point you struggled to not salivate like a dog for treats. Actually, he looks good in anything-

Hearing grunts, you turned around to watch as he struggled to pull up the tailored trousers over his broad, sculpted thighs. Sweet baby Jesus. Pulling on each side he finally managed to pull them around his waist. Though that left you wondering if Wu had to help him that day too and couldn't help from barking a laugh out loud. He threw you another look carrying a fair warning and you stopped, laughing some more on the inside.

Walking over to him, your fingers tapped on the material of his tank top, telling him you wanted it off. No questions asked, it was discarded to the floor, leaving the mightiness of his topless form grace you.

Good god. Did he get more toned since the last time we... yeah, he definitely did.

You traced all the lines on his front with hungry eyes, unable to focus on just one single defined dip of muscle meat, assaulted by the cushiony pecs on his chest right under those bow-shaped collar bones, the flexing biceps on the sides, the abdomen that had more packs that you could count consciously without losing count, and the rest of the muscles he had in places you didn't even know could grow muscles. You had to physically avert your eyes before you had a stroke from how hot and hard your heart was pumping blood through your body at the sight. Including to that aching spot between your legs he grazed moments ago.

Dear lord, the men you put on this earth.

Circling around him, you stopped at his back, studying the ripples of fibrous sinews stretching over his broad shoulders and down his extremely bulky vein-filled arms, trailing down the line of his spine running down into the tailored pants, a pair of back dimples saluting you. He turned his head to the side slightly, watching you get lost in the detailed map of his back, chomping down on a finger nail in focus. He could see right through you, fully aware where your mind ran off to so he chuckled lowly to himself bringing you out of another pheromone induced daze as you shot him a "You're so full of shit" look.

You rounded back to the front, following the deep V of his abdomen falling from each side of his waist joining under the material of the pants. You cursed yourself for not paying more attention to these details before, too occupied with the way he rammed into you without notice on most occasions or in the dark. Reminded of his incredibly stupid confession the previous day that he's been lying to you for longer than he's actually known you, the thirst turned hot with anger in an instant. You weren't going to let his annoyingly handsome face and infuriatingly defined body reel you away from that.

Without a warning you dropped down to your knees before him, catching him off-guard. The rock in his neck bobbed down, looking down at your kneeling form with intentions that were less than fashionable and more into the sexual side of things. You caught that look, planning to throw it right in his face.

Getting closer to his groin, you hooked your fingers in the band of his pants, grazing the skin of his lower abs. The small muscles flexed together in response to the cool brush of your fingers. Then you pulled the pants upwards in a swift move instead of downwards like he probably expected, slightly crushing his groin, at which he let out a grunt of displeasure.

As if you cared about that right now. He sensed the change in mood and knew exactly why you did that. It was payback.

"I guess I deserved that."

You spared him a look of disdain, moving to the side to mark where the band of his pants needed to be pulled a little tighter since they were too loose on his waist. Pulling a safety pin out, you bunched up the extra material pinching it, accidentally and a little on purpose also pinching his skin. You hoped he felt that, even if he held back from showing it. Keep your masculinity intact then.

"You lied to me."

"It wasn't my plan to."

You moved your hand down the leg of his pants, making a mark where they needed to be shortened on each side. He was relatively tall, but the pants ran way longer than his height, coming down all the way to his toes, almost covering them. You rolled them over to his ankles, plying them together with another safety pin for future hemming, along with needles on some other spots on the seams that needed to be sewn again.

Then you got up, walking behind him and took the measuring tape to size up his shoulders from one end to the other. You wanted to see if you could adjust the shirt too, since he kept complaining it was too tight. You stared a big hole into the back of his head as you continued.

"Lying is a choice."

"Not entirely."

"You made that choice."

"I didn't want to make that choice."

Tired of this constant, incessant, frustrating and really idiotic back and forth you walked back to his front, arms crossed over your chest, eyes boring into him with pure, unleashed rage. You looked at him a lot more differently now - less like someone you confided into with your hopes and dreams before, seeing someone who couldn't fathom normal communication like normal people do. He wasn't normal. No, no, he was abnormal, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was that he couldn't understand you and where you were coming from. He simply refused to do the simplest act of showing a person he cared, because he clearly did, otherwise he wouldn't be standing here playing dress-up and being poked by your needles.

"What do you really want from me, Enishi?"

His gaze fell from you to the ground, staying quiet. The man who always had his words with him was suddenly rendered speechless. Just like I thought.

Sighing, you walked to the bed to continue your work since talking apparently lead you nowhere with him. You picked up the original shirt he had underneath the suit, thinking of ways to make it work without having to buy another one. Because that's what people do. They talk and find ways to make it work as complicated and tangled as things seemed. But you'd be damned if you kept being the only one who tried to make it work. Whatever this it was between you.

You sensed he made a move to you, possibly coming to cage you in his space again and act all broody, leaving you with no way to deny whatever ideas he wanted to plant in your head again. You've done this trust and honor rodeo once and it was more than enough.

"Don't move," you said firmly, without turning around to him. "I don't think you want those pins and needles inside your skin all at once." Though he did deserve them. But even if they dug deep into each inch of his skin it still wouldn't compare to the pain he caused in your own heart. You can't compare the pain of a broken heart with that.

"I want to help you find your parents."

Red. That's what you saw when you whirled around to him, anger running in your veins hot and wild as you closed the space between you and got up in his face.

"Then help me find them. Stop making empty promises and do it."

"I'm trying."

"I've tried enough," you looked away from him, keeping to your own corner.

His hand came up to lift your chin, turning your face back to him. Turning your head away was no use. He held you in place with just the pads of his fingers, searching your eyes for the real reason you were acting like this. This wasn't about your parents or him lying to you. Something else hung on your tongue that you weren't saying.

"What do you want from me, Miyu?"

Your hand latched on his wrist with the intention to pull it away from your face. Instead, it wrapped around it, simply holding it. You couldn't find it in yourself to let go of him once you got to hold him.

"Why bother telling you? You won't give it to me," you gritted out, clicking your jaw in fury.

"What if I will?"

"You can't." You won't.

The way you said it implied he couldn't. Not right now anyway with all that was happening and the fact that he took his pride more seriously than your feelings. So of course he took it the wrong way. He was a man after all. If he wasn't intimidated by something he didn't feel like one.

"But he can."

"Oh my god," you slapped his hand away, "this is exactly what I mean. You can't get your head out of your own ass enough to see me without the other alpha or beta males lingering around me. You don't want to see me because you're too full of yourself to let other people in. You refuse to see me because I don't mean anything to you." You pushed a finger in his chest with each statement, getting most of your feelings out there in the open in the hopes he would finally understand you.

"I see you."

"YOU DON'T!" you yelled.

"I DO," he growled, grabbing both sides of your face to bring it closer. His hot breath ghosted over your lips in agony, fear, rage, and every single negative feeling he instilled in you because he felt them all the same. His hold on you only got stronger with the wave of tension you were both riding without a safety net. A safety net that got shredded to pieces the minute he lied.

"Let go," you pushed on his hands, threatening to draw fresh blood if he didn't let go.

"No," he rasped back.

"No?"

"No."

"Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. Room."

"Your room is part of my house."

This was turning into a screaming match quicker than you wanted it to, but it was all his fault. Pushing and pulling on you like a possession instead of a fellow human being. He turned that small, insignificant gust of wind that shook your bond into a fucking hurricane that was ready to destroy it. None of you were backing down from your egos this time. You've had enough of his selfishness and the keeping in the dark. You wanted answers. Answers he couldn't give you, refused to give you.

Why do we have to fight a stupid war as if we're not on the same side? Why does it have to always be so hot and cold with you?

With a huff, he let go of you, hands balled at his sides. You stepped away, going back to the table to grab the tools and get started on the pants before you exploded. He stood his ground. He wasn't leaving until you were done with him. It took more than an argument to make him leave in spite.

You kneeled back on the ground and worked on the material, not another word exchanged between you for the rest of the fitting. The next one he even dared to let out would have your fist right in his face. This might be his house, his room, his money. But the heart that hurt was yours. Not his.

After you checked that the vest and the blazer in the ensemble still fit him, he changed back into his normal clothes and left without a word. Blondie was next up. Hopefully it wouldn't be another yelling contest. There was no telling how much you could keep being peaceful today.

Cho walked in quietly, waiting for your instructions. He took his designated place in the middle of the room, wearing that olive suit you chose for him on your last market visit. The one that made him look like husband material. You got to work in silence, not a joke or insult thrown around like usual. He could tell something was wrong from how quiet you were and how your teeth chewed on that poor lip of yours, soon drawing blood if you didn't stop.

"Are you okay?"

You looked up, caught by the small worry in his eyes, so soft and brown that you could melt. You gave him a small smile and a nod, not at all okay but quietly telling him to let it go. You went back to working in peace, doing the hem on his pants right on the spot, since it only needed some small adjustments, rendering the waistline good to go.

"Sooooo - ouch," he started, yelping in pain as one of your needles poked his wrist accidentally. You apologized, trying to be more careful. "Can we talk now?"

The universe is having a laugh today. You gathered the material of the long sleeves of his blazer around your palms, trying to finish the last stitch at the bottom before you moved to the other.

"I want that too, making things right between us," you started with a sigh, recalling where he left off the other day before you got interrupted. "I just didn't know where to start talking about it all," you played with the material, thumbs smoothing it out over his wrist. You tried to think of what to say next but came up entirely blank.

Grabbing the bits you cut up off the floor, you threw them on the table and went to sit on the bed. He joined, sitting down beside you, shoulder to shoulder. Letting out another sigh, you shifted to lean your head on his shoulder, feeling comfortable enough to sit and think like that. You just needed a minute to collect your thoughts.

He was one of the few souls you made a connection with. Back then, it was all a mix of teenage angst, figuring out life, and fighting off crime lords of all sizes with a dash of falling in love for the first time. He was danger in all forms, kind of a lunatic and a major walking talking red flag, all in one package. You wanted one, you got all three. Now, he was oddly comfort to you, still the same soul you could tell anything to. Still the same guy that threw himself headfirst into something without thinking, a lot more mature about his feelings. He just saw you for who you are in this moment, not what you were or what you could be. He was still a lunatic in his own way. That wasn't going to go away anytime soon. But you wouldn't really change that about him.

Sitting here in his calm presence, touching knees and shoulders together, you knew that whatever this was, it was so much more than just a simple friendship. You've been through things together that would make others crap their pants. Those things tied you to each other in a bond that would never be broken. The past few years apart made it stretch to the point it nearly broke and you didn't want that. And whether that was more because of the way he acted now or the feelings you had for him before, it was a good question. But that didn't really matter. Because they were still here, still as strong and lingering as the day he left.

You accepted that he was going to be a part of you for as long as you live. But will he be a permanent one? That was the one big million gold lingo question you couldn't find an answer to.

Were you still mad at him for leaving you that night? Yes. Was it something that would keep you away from trying to mend what was broken? No. Not in the slightest. So at least you got that figured out.

Exhaustion came over you out of nowhere. Tired from working on all the outfits simultaneously and yet another heated encounter with Enishi, you passed out on his shoulder, crashing from working so long on autopilot. Your head fell to his lap like deadweight and he almost panicked if it wasn't for your snoring breaking through the silence.

This girl, he shook his head.

He came over last night, knowing something was wrong since you walked out of the office so fast. But mophead was already at your side, comforting you the way he wished he could. Being your support like he wanted to be. There was no point in him staying by the door longer than need be so he left with a heavy heart. Right now, he could tell you were pushing yourself way more than you could take it with your parents, the tailor job, even that one silver fox down the hall. So he just let you sleep, glad that he could at least be of some help to you for a little while.

Your head sat so uncomfortable on his lap with your neck bent at a weird angle over his thigh, that it made him laugh. Back when you were still a team, he used to catch you sleeping even on sturdy tree branches or flat against the walls, without a worry in the world. He snickered seeing that your habit of sleeping in the weirdest positions known to mankind hasn't changed at all. Sliding a hand under your head, he raised it up a little when you scrunched your nose in your sleep.

Cautious not to wake you, he propped a pillow under your head letting you rest a little more comfortably even as your legs dangled off the edge of the bed. He moved to let your hair loose from that tight messy bun, struggling with the hair tie until it snapped in his hands, all of your hair falling in your face. He threw the elastic band somewhere in the pile of discarded materials on the floor, hoping you would never find it. Leaning over to see you were still asleep, blowing the locks in and out of your face, he let out a breath of relief, knowing how godzilla you got if someone woke you up. He gathered all the strands of hair and laid them on your back, gently carding through it as you just slept.

It could wait, he thought. For you, I can wait even more.

Feeling watchful eyes on the back of his neck, sharp and poignant, he turned right in time to catch the gray-haired man at the door like he somehow summoned him. He watched the way you were perched on the blonde's lap in comfort, sleeping the day away. The blonde fought a snicker his way, wanting to show him how much he enjoyed his torment. But by the time he looked back from your sleeping form, he disappeared as quick as he appeared. He looked at you, eyebrows drawn in a frown even in your sleep, hand clutching at the material of his pants. That told him all he needed to know.

The sun was already down when you woke up, rather disoriented and confused at why your hair was everywhere but in the bun you put it in. Waving that off together with the man you slept on, you went to get some food since you've been cooped up in your room for too long. Of course the blonde followed in your steps like a duckling, stomach grumbling way louder than yours.

You made something quick, trying not to attract more hungry souls into the kitchen since there wasn't enough to make food for everyone. Going for some quick tomato pasta, you worked on the sauce while he made the table. The pasta boiled quick and the sauce was done before you knew it. You sat down and dug in together straight from the pot, finally catching up properly since you didn't get one moment alone that didn't include teasing or an overly exaggerated display of jealousy from Enishi.

Cho started, telling you about his missions in the time you've been apart and how he encountered the most incredulous people, lost his swords and how he fell out with the Ten Swords. Funny mishaps from his side that ruined most of his missions had you clutching your stomach from how hard you laughed. Close calls with death had you slow down on your food, heart clenching in anger that he was so careless, that you almost didn't meet again. Mentions of really idiotic stuff had you smack him repeatedly for daring to laugh them off, nagging him about his life choices that were often done with half a braincell.

When it was your turn, you told him about the relatively recent chapters of your life, jumping over your depressed pancake days. You talked about your new found love for cooking and how the gang ate your food like it was sent from heaven or something. And he could tell you loved the small attention it got even if you would never admit it. You told him about the way you tried working on clothes from time to time mostly to keep the memory of your parents alive. He knew how determined you were to carry that legacy with you, though you didn't accept it yet. Then you told him about the missions you went on and how they ended in the most odd ways, especially since you joined Enishi.

Enishi up. Enishi down. Left, right, forwards, backwards. Each mention of the gray-haired man had him look down in his plate in jealousy, wishing he was the one you had so much fun with. He wished you were still going on adventures together. Then he remembered it was because of him that wasn't happening. Because he left.

You didn't go into the obvious things that still hung in the air but at least you caught up on the other more positive things that you missed in each other's lives. Finished with your pasta, you went and brought over the leftover pancakes for some dessert. You dug in more confident than you did this morning, savouring the delicacy fully since you didn't know when you will get to eat these apologetic pancakes again, though Enishi fucked up a shit ton lately and there wasn't enough pancake batter to atone for it.

Cho extended a hand to grab one but you slapped it away, circling the plate with your arms protectively. "Give me one," he pleaded.

"No. These are mine and mine only."

"I can assure you those two will not be missed," he pointed to the small ones on the side, hand inching towards them. You shoved them both in your mouth along with the one you were eating, puffing your cheeks up to prove you weren't giving any of them away.

He knew why you were so protective over them - mophead made them for you. You barely talked to each other, avoiding each other for the past few days and doing everything in your power to keep to your corners like you would fuse and blow up if you sat in the same room for too long.

This morning, he was woken up by the smell of the very pancakes you were currently gobbling down faster than lightning. Thinking it was you whisking up the sweet breakfast, he nearly barged in the kitchen only for his hand to stop on the door, shocked to find mophead at the stove instead, struggling to fold the dough together without the jam leaking out. He would've laughed at the way he threw the pan upwards but it would've put him in trouble and he genuinely didn't want to face a sleepless demon that early.

So he walked away on an empty, upset stomach, but delighted at the "Fuck's sake" and "Jesus Christ" Enishi was throwing around. Putting his entertainment aside, he knew if this went on for longer the mansion would become the trenches.

"You need to talk to him."

"What?" you looked up from the pancakes, cheeks still full of them, some jam leaking from the side of your lips.

"You need to talk to mophead," he leaned over and wiped your lips with a tissue. "Just kiss and make up already."

"There's nothing to kiss or make up about," you shrugged, shoulders sagging on the back of the chair defeated on the whole Enishi subject.

"You're like two prepubescent teenagers throwing tantrums left and right," he started, laying a hand on your shoulder in support. "Respectfully, grow the fuck up."

"Excuse you, I am more mature than both of you together."

"Really? Cause that's not what I'm seeing."

"Then humor me," you leaned forward, "what are you seeing, all mighty and all knowing Cho Sawagejo?" He laughed heartily at the pun.

"Thank you for the compliment but that's not important. What is important is that I see a really beautiful woman, aware of what she wants, hiding behind the doubt that he created between you."

That hit the nail on the head way too quick. The small flirty remark didn't go unnoticed tinting your cheeks pink. Unable to process that you were actually doing this, you asked him for advice. "Well, what do you suggest I should do?"

"Talk it out. All of it. Or at least some of it. You can't keep doing this to yourselves as if the problem will magically fix itself if you just ignore it. So just tell him what hurts. If he's not as dense as he seems he will listen. If he doesn't," he paused to roll up his sleeves, "I'll make him."

"Make him what?" you laughed. "Do a dance or something?"

"Whatever my dear princess desires." Not the princess thing again. It made you go all mushy inside. "Oh, shut up you sweet talker."

"I know you love it," he winked. "You should get your eyes checked. They're doing a weird blinking thing," you laughed.

Okay, talking did help. Maybe he does deserve some pancakes. Not these ones though. I'll make him some later.

A stroll around the mansion helped you clear your head for a bit, getting your jumbled thoughts in a much better order. Doing the last rounds before you got back to work, you passed by the armory when a hand pulled you inside and the door shut tight behind you. Ready to throw hands at whoever dared to lay their hands on you like that, you came face to face with the very devil you were trying to steer clear of, scowl on his face noticeable even in the barely illuminated room.

"You've been avoiding me."

"I have not," you deadpanned going back to the door to turn the knob only to find that the door was locked.

"Yes, you have and you're not getting out of this room until we talk."

"Okay, maybe I have. And I have nothing to talk about with you."

"Oh, I think you do."

Placing your head against the door, you let out a deep breath of desperation. You really didn't want to talk it out now of all times. Today consisted of way too much talking. That and the fact that you were fed up with him and his constant, macho display of arrogance, coyness and everything else that was relatively manly and wrong with him.

Your head was still a mess and you were angry at him for acting like that other dimwit as if they knew how you felt and what went through your head. News flash, they had no idea because you yourself had no idea. You needed time to figure it out but they refused to give it to you. So if anyone needed timeout to sit and talk about their feelings in a room full of guns it was them two. Although, on second thought, that didn't sound like such a good idea.

You heard steps shifting closer behind you until they stopped. His hands came to sit on your forearms spinning you around to him. But you couldn't face him.

"I'm sorry," he spoke lowly, sounding honest for once. You had a hard time believing he actually was.

"You say that now but that wasn't what I felt from you for the past few days."

"I know," he said looking down at the floor, hands sliding down to hold your wrists, then his long fingers intertwined with yours. If you weren't so angry and upset with him you would've enjoyed the feeling more, letting him hold you properly, maybe even holding him back.

"Talk to me," he placed his forehead on yours and closed his eyes. Having him so close, right there with you, made some of the earlier rage drift away.

"I am," you exhaled, closing your own, breathing in his sweet scent. "What's going on with you, Enishi? You were so close and now you're so far away."

There was something about him being near you that made you forget everything, including why you were mad at him in the first place. One of the moments of bare vulnerability you had once in a blue moon. Until he opened his mouth and ruined the one moment of peace you got together in so long.

"I need him to leave. Before I tear him to shreds."

You pulled away shaking his hold off of you in an instant. So this was the issue. He was so fucking full of himself that it pissed you so much.

"This again?" you asked in disbelief that you were having the exact same conversation in your room a few hours ago, and every day for the past week.

"Yeah, this again. It's been almost four days and I would like to know why the fuck he's still here."

"We're going to the Shanghai Club tomorrow, as a trio, and then he's gone. We can really use the extra help considering he knows the situation as much as you do." You took a step towards him. "Why does it bother you so much?"

Why was he so hellbent on Cho leaving? I don't stomach him either sometimes but I like having him around. Was this still about competing with him?

"Is someone jealous?" you asked with a small grin. That only pushed his buttons further.

"This isn't about me being jealous!" he threw his hands up in annoyance. "Is that what you want to hear so badly?" he took one step towards you. "That I'm jealous?" another rushed and heavy step in your direction. You backed away from him. "What if I am?" he got so close that your next step backwards had the back of your thighs hit the table behind you. "What are you gonna do about it?" He lifted you up on the table and held you in place, hands digging into your side with possession, breathing heavy with lust, eyes ripping into yours with the hunger of a predator.

"I don't think you want to see me jealous, Miyu."

The way he growled your name with a deeper tone than you were used to hearing from him, so far from his calm and collected persona, shook you to the depths of your core. But not in a good way. He was being possessive. Treating you like you were his. Your heart pounded for him, your head reminding you again that you weren't his for him to act like this. That this was not the Enishi you knew. This would either end in hitting the bed in anger and frustration like the night of the casino mission, or in another screaming match. Pacing the scene, it seemed like the latter.

This was an uncoordinated tango of love and hate where you both stepped on each other to see who would come up on top instead of doing it together, dancing to the never-ending music in sync. You would never be in sync with him at this rate. Your rhythms were off in the worst way possible.

"You're right, I don't. But I also don't want to see you lose it like this over someone who doesn't deserve it. For a fucking bet of all things."

"You know about the bet?" he asked, rough tone falling down a notch.

You pushed him away and got off the table heading to the door. You've had enough of his shit. Why was it so hard to just admit to his feelings and tell you what he felt for you was real and not just something in your head? That he wasn't playing with you. That those unsaid things, his touches, his words weren't just foul play. But he wouldn't. He couldn't.

"Unlock the door," you asked nicely, though your hand started trembling on the knob.

"You're not going anywhere. Did he tell you about the bet?" the betrayal in his voice was poignant, stabbing deep.

The bet was about you. What did it matter who you heard it from? Why did it matter what everyone else thought? Why was it so fucking important to blame everything on someone else instead of owning up to it? Why are you being such an asshole about it?

"I don't give a flying fuck about that stupid bet of yours." There were unshed tears threatening to spill out with every passing second and you weren't going to let them out in front of him. He pissed you off beyond prevail and thought he could get away with manhandling you like that all this time. If anything, he wasn't worthy of seeing your tears.

"Enishi, unlock the fucking door," your whole body shook with rage at this point.

It had to stop now - this waging war, the pushing and pulling and throwing each other off a cliff like that was all your relationship consisted of. Maybe Cho was right and a fuck would do you both some good. But what then? After that? You'd just be left with more questions and more shards dug deep in your heart while he would just continue being his stoic, ice cold self.

He hesitated moving to the door until he saw the way you bit your lip and clutched your hand behind your back, trying to hide the tremor. He went too far. Way too far.

"This isn't over," he went to open the door, holding it open for you. He looked at you as if there was going to be more of this in the future.

"I hate you," you muttered, looking him straight in the eyes, before you took off to your room.

Those were the last words he ever wished to hear coming out of your mouth. With each stride you took, getting farther away, each word plunged deeper into his chest like a knife. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you like that. But he did it. Heartlessly and cold.

Spending half of the night cooped up in bed trying to finish that book, you spent the other working on the outfits for the mission. Well, finishing blondie's and yours... Enishi's had a teeny tiny problem... actually, a very disastrous problem. Catastrophic sounded more like it.

Still enraged with him and wondering where he usually got the audacity from, you got to work on his suit a little too emotional, costing you his pants. You didn't mean for it to happen. You just dove into the material, turning them inside out to put an elastic band through them so they wouldn't fall off his ass but the minute you put the scissors to the lining to undo the hem stitch, it went through to the other side, putting a horizontal hole big enough for two fingers to go through.

You held the hole to eye level, eye twitching at the chaos that one simple hole made. Not giving into despair yet, you tried to sew it back together, which worked. Up until you dug the needle too hard making yet another hole. With a groan you threw them to the floor, banging your head against the work table a few times.

I can't let him go out with a hole the size of Antarctica in his pants. Bang. But I don't have pants of the same color either and even if I did they won't match the material of the vest and the blazer. Bang. I am such an idiot. Bang. Dear god send help.

Sad, shameful and more rage-filled, you looked around the mess in your room. No amount of cleaning could keep it together, just like your head for that matter. Groaning, you got up and went to pick up the scattered pieces of fabric with dread. What the fuck do I do now? Do I give him blondie's suit and make him wear something else? That would've been a great idea if there wasn't such a big difference in their heights.

As you reached the vanity table, a roll of what looked like fabric fell down, rolling open on the floor until it unfurled completely all over the carpet. Heavy indigo satin. Crouching down beside it, your fingers padded over the nearest corner, feeling the material. It was sturdy, soft, shimmering different shades of blue either way you turned it. Where have you been hiding all this time?

Gaping back at the ruined pair of black tailored pants still on the floor in a heap, you wondered if you could replicate the seam work on this one enough to make them somewhat wearable. It would be tricky considering it's light seam work on heavy material but it was doable. But that also meant copying the whole pattern of the suit, vest and blazer included. Three entirely different pieces, all worked from nothing with less than a day left till the meeting. Starting from zero...it could work or fail big time. You picked up the material and freed up another mannequin, placing the now unusable suit on another one next to it, getting your needle cushion ready for battle.

The things I do for you, mophead. Raise the paycheck, will you?

You woke up early for once, was what you would say if you did sleep. Busy fighting with fabrics and threads all night, you did fall asleep at one point but on the floor, huddled in a pile of material instead of the blankets. Waking up to the soft sound of meowing, you found Koru next to you, cuddled in a ball under the satin roll. Her head raised to meet you before it fell back on her paws.

"Hello, little friend," you cooed petting her fur.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you sat up looking around, finding the room still drenched in darkness, the only source of light being the lamp near the work table. The sun wasn't up yet and sleep wouldn't catch you even if you tried anyway.

Grabbing a blanket and your boots, you huddled up and padded the halls silently, going outside in the garden, sitting in one of the frozen wooden chairs. The wind blew harshly on your face, whirling through your hair with a chill you could feel deep down in your bones. Snow was past its due time, its smell hanging in the crisp air, but there was no sign of it yet besides this cold wall of weather and gray clouds that just refused to leave. Just the kind of mood reflected in the mansion lately.

Throwing your head backwards with a sigh, you closed your eyes. Your chest felt heavy. The clothes on you felt heavy. The very water you chugged down moments ago in the kitchen seemed heavy, stuck in your throat, unable to trickle down inside. Something about the upcoming mission made you uneasy. More uneasy than you've ever felt, beaten down by what ifs.

What if this was another ghost track that would lead nowhere? What if this time someone got badly hurt? What if everything was in vain? What if -

"You're up early, madame," said a voice from your right, putting a stop to your rapidly firing train of thoughts.

You opened your eyes to see who sat down beside you - Wu, dressed in layers warmer than the ones of your blanket covers. The old man gave you a court nod and you smiled at him, happy to see a different face for a change.

"I could say the same about you."

"It is my duty to be up early."

"Oh, that's right," you chuckled, eyes falling back to the ground.

Another gust blew as the silence fell comfortingly between you. You drew in a breath letting it out in a steam cloud, watching as it dissipated in the air before another one took its place.

"Is there something on your mind, madame?"

"I wonder what isn't on my mind."

The old man smiled sympathetically at you, as if he happened to know just how chaotic your mind was right now just by looking at the way you were aimlessly drawing patterns in the ground with the heel of your boots.

"I take it master is giving you a hard time?"

"If anything he's about thirty percent of what's giving me a hard time." Wu gave you a knowing look, convinced that there was more to that confession. "Okay, maybe more than that."

"I'm not going to throw water at the parched ground and say he had it hard because something tells me you already know that," he started. You shifted in your seat, looking forward to have a second opinion from someone who's been around these parts longer than you have, nodding for him to continue.

"What I can say is that he doesn't always mean what he says. He's normally calculated in all he does, thinking it through over and over, but there are times where his sense of righteousness takes a stand without him wanting it to, hurting the very people he wants to protect."

"It still doesn't make it any less than what it is," you shook your head returning your eyes back to the ground.

"And what is that, madame?"

"That he hurt me," you whirled around to him quicker than you wanted to, thing at which the man could only grin. "Wow, that came out easier than I thought it would."

His smile grew wider and turned knowing with more wise advice to give.

"We often bottle up how we feel inside and add to it as time goes on. It's not easy to be straightforward with your honest feelings but it's often what can save you."

He was right. Though it didn't justify the consistent lack of understanding, it did explain the conflict going on inside his head. Because it was the same one going on in yours.

"Thank you, Wu."

"That's quite alright, madame."

Offering him a tight-lipped smile, you patted his arm in gratitude. He was like a paternal figure you missed having around. He often popped his head in your door to check how you were doing, you went to the market for food together, or always plotted behind Enishi's back with something. In a way, you were glad he had someone looking out for him all these years, guarding his back in the impenetrable fortress he built around himself.

"I'm heading down to the market," he announced, standing up from beside you. "Do you need anything, madame?"

"Yes, I do in fact," you nodded, trying to piece together a mental list of everything you needed, not just food wise, but material wise. "Actually, I'll just come with you."

You ran to the market with Wu, splitting up between buying food and getting the boys new shirts since you couldn't alter the ones they had no matter how hard you tried. The material was too prone to damage so you just left them alone, noting down their measurements on a piece of paper that you were currently passing to the lady in the shop at the end of the village, where you bought Cho's suit. Luckily, she still had a few models up to size.

Paying her, you took the bag with the shirts from her hold with a thank you and rushed down to the market to help Wu with the rest of the shopping. The sun was barely rising when you got back, going straight into the kitchen to make some food for everyone. Wu stayed to help you, laying out the table and foiling up some of the food for later too.

The rest of the day went by in a frenzy, running between the kitchen and the sink filled with dishes to the brim like you cooked for a wedding, feeding Koru and finishing up the last details on your dress, too busy to sit and think about another growing pit of unease in your gut.

Afternoon rolled around quick, finding you running about to call the boys over for the final touches on their suits. Knocking on Enishi's door, you found him freshly showered just as he walked out of the bathroom. Relaying the info from the doorframe without sparring him another look, you headed for the blonde's room. From the sound of it, he was still in the shower, taking his sweet time. You banged on his door hard getting sworn at.

"Be in my room in ten minutes or we're leaving without you," you yelled, hoping the urgency of your voice carried over the running water.

"Okay, mom," he yelled back, charming as always.

"Your mom would whoop your ass," you mumbled.

You got back to your room, pulling out their outfits and smoothing out the shirts, looking for any neglected lumps or thread that wasn't where it needed to be. It wasn't long before they walked in, throwing open both doors as they regarded each other coldly. Turning around at the sound, you nearly got a heart attack at seeing both of them only with a towel around their waists, hair still wet, droplets of water running freely down two different but very appetizing packs of abs. Miyu, focus. Choosing to move rather than speak for fear your voice might betray you, you motioned them to the middle of the room, handing them the suits.

Cho pulled out his, marveling at the little extra details you added. On top of adjusting the olive suit to a more fitted form, you added golden cuffs matching the buckles on his boots. Turning it over he saw a pair of stitches in the same golden color under the cuffs on each side instantly recognizing what they were - small twin katanas crossing each other, one of his signature moves.

You sat back watching his face light up with a smile of adoration, sending back a smile of your own. Turning to the other, you saw the look of confusion on his face at the suit shimmering a different shade of blue depending on the intensity of the sunrays bathing the room in warmth.

"I had a few... issues with the other one," you clarified, scratching the back of your neck nervous at what he thought of it.

He said nothing, inspecting the fabric attentively, rushing to the cuffs to be met with glinting silver. Turning it over, he let a small, barely there smile twitch the corners of his lips upwards, more to himself but you caught it. He ran his thumb over his own stitches - a small silver ball on each side, resembling his earring.

They might have been annoying, rash, infuriating even most of the time, but they were both your boys. You wouldn't have it any other way. They were the only ones you could count on to go to battle with. And that was your own silent promise of protection to them.

You waited until they dressed up, going around them for the last adjustments, one at a time. You started with the blonde, fixing the cinch on the waistline of his pants so the shirt didn't look too lumpy or too tucked in. Taking the vest, you helped him wear it, buttoning it from the bottom to the last one on top.

Too engrossed in finishing up, you came up to see him smiling down at you, flashing you a flirty wink, fully aware that you had an audience. You giggled back, thankful for the good vibes coming from at least one person in the room. Motioning him to the vanity, you worked through the tangles in his hair getting it to look more like hair than a bird's nest. You threw his old mess of a bandana and made him another one from scraps, setting it around his head. All that was missing was his full length dark brown coat and he was runway ready.

Done and dusted with the blonde, you sent him away to take Enishi's place on your bed, calling him over. He was surprisingly already dressed up, except for the vest and the jacket. If the weather wasn't as cold, you'd have him go out only in that shirt and the pants currently glowing azure like the sea. The top fit him perfectly, not too tight or too large, just spot on, hitting all the requirements in comfyness, movement and charm.

That shirt looked like an expensive piece of art on him, so flattering on his bulky form, the tousled edges and ivory shade taking it close to sculpture material. He didn't just make art, he was art. Though quite an impatient one at that.

He fought with the buttons on the sleeves of his shirt, trying to close them only to have the little fuckers fall between the pads of his fingers, getting lost in the entirety of his big hand. Coming to a stop in front of him, you smacked his hand away and pulled the sleeve in your grasp, closing the studs easily on first try. You patted down the sleeves from the shoulder down, smoothing out the shirt to its full length and beauty since you didn't have the luxury to iron it.

You helped him into the vest and the jacket, buttoning them up for him just like you did for the blonde. He watched you closely, gaze so focused on your face making it almost impossible to focus. Too intense for the slight shake of your fingers, that look made a finger slip off the jacket button you were trying to close, ripping it off the material and in two.

Hell to the no. With a gasp, you picked it up from the floor trying to figure out how it cracked. Putting the two halves next to each other, it was barely there but it was bright as day - the start of a crack right at the top of the button, slicing through the needle holes.

Why did I not notice it before? I swear I worked on his suit so much, checking everything again and again and it wasn't there before.

Sensing a meltdown he would rather not be part of, Cho stepped out of the room, taking the good vibes out with him.

"You've got to be joking," you let out, running a frustrated hand through your hair.

There wasn't time for this. You still had to squeeze in a shower and fixing yourself up and checking the last bits of your dress, since no one can do all of that for you. A faulty, on the face mishap on your first ever creation top to bottom pausing it all.

He saw you rub the outline of the broken pieces of the button with regret, teeth chewing down on your lip with a pout.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. Just... just stay here."

Running to the work table, you pulled open all cabinets and drawers looking for a blue button matching the rest on the suit. You found one, though in a different shade of blue that stood out from the others. You couldn't run back out to the market for another one right now. It would have to do.

Taking a needle and some leftover thread, you went back to him and started sewing the button in place of the one that lay in pieces on the table. Just like your nerves, but those were on the cold floor, long in pieces.

Your hands shook, rushing to get it done so you could go and wash up and get ready. But that thread simply refused to go through the needle, dodging every attempt at taking it through the ear, adding to the stress gripping you in waves again. Just get the fuck inside the damn ear, you begged the thread that continued declining your pleas.

Stopping, you laid your head on his chest, looking down at the floor. Your heart was beating fast in your chest again, tremor in your hands threatening to reach the rest of your body. If you didn't calm down now you risked another panic session and there wasn't time for it.

He didn't move, letting you sit there, speaking up deep and collected.

"Breathe."

A simple word that calmed you down instantly like a tranquilizer. You took a deep breath in, letting it out with some of the worry you were feeling, invisible heavy weight falling off your shoulders.

"Try again."

You tried again, this time getting the thread through the needle successfully. The new button was attached in place of the broken one in no time, going to size up the rest of his outfit.

Relatively pleased with the front, you gestured him to turn around and he complied, so you could fix the twisted collar. Getting on your tip toes, you rolled it over properly, patting down the material around his nape. Your hand trailed down from it to lay in the middle of his back, sitting flat. Something told you to keep it there, feeling the beat of his heart for as long as you could. If only we weren't involved in this mess. With another sigh, you let go, stepping away from him.

Grabbing your dress, a towel and everything else you needed, you left for his room to have one of the fastest showers in history. You washed up quickly, rubbing away the stench of kitchen from your hair and your body, replacing it with the first shampoo mix you could find. Once freshened-up, you wrapped your hair in a towel, moving to fix your eyebrows and pluck any other hairs that sat cozy where they shouldn't be. You then dabbed some powder on your cheeks to give them more color, followed by some lip balm on your lips that you found at the market on a good bargain.

Walking out of the bathroom, you took the dress off the hanger and shimmied into it carefully not to rip a seam or make more damage. Fixing it on your body, you walked to the mirror in the corner taking it in.

You ended up working with the ruby velvet rolls for the entire dress. The bodice was a sweetheart corset hugging the shape of your chest and breasts, worked in with a double inner layer for better strength. You didn't go too far on the corset boning, using only a few overlaying stripes of material and steel straws you took from another corset. Falling down your torso smoothly it stopped at your hips, coming down in a V shape, letting the rest of the skirt material fall from your lower waist down to the ground. A slit ran on the side all the way to your upper thigh, allowing for movement in case things happened. They always happened. You also made sleeves, starting from the overturned neckline, hugging part of your collar bones and your shoulders, falling down to your wrists to keep you warm. You couldn't leave it alone and added some small details to yours too - small vines of roses in a deeper red went down the stitch of the sleeves, the back sides of the corset and the seam line of the train falling to the floor behind you. I can't believe it's real. I made it. I made it mom. I wish you could see it.

The only problem you had was that you needed help lacing the corset, too far on the back to reach on your own. You tried pulling the strips but it only bent your wrists painfully, getting nowhere. As if on cue, the owner of the room entered, stopping in his tracks as he took you in from head to toe. You clocked him through the mirror, fully staring with his mouth agape, eyes jumping around at all the details on the dress, blood rushing to your cheeks making them redder than the blush you applied.

Snap out of it. You're still mad at him.

He walked to you, closing the distance in a few slow strides, placing a plate of some finger foods you made with Wu on the table beside the mirror.

"Did you eat?"

"I'm not hungry."

Your stomach grumbled ratting you out. Okay, maybe you were hungry, starving sounded more like it, and you would've eaten if you didn't have so many things to do.

"Eat something. I'll lace up your thing."

"I've got it-" you started, spinning to walk off only for two arms to hold you firmly in front of the mirror.

"Just let me do it," he said softly, looking at you through the mirror.

A huff later, you grabbed onto a fried meatball and some bread popping them in your mouth. His fingers moved your hair over your shoulder, slightly brushing the exposed skin down your nape and between your shoulders. You gulped at the minor touch, raising tingles on your skin. He picked up the dangling strings of your corset, lacing it up as you held onto the front with the hand that wasn't busy holding food.

Nostalgia washed over you, taking you back to the night of the casino mission, when he came over to your room just as you were looking for help to lace up your corset. He rolled the strings around his fingers the same nimble way he did back then, pulling the bodice tighter around you. You gulped down the rest of the food with air pockets, almost chocking at how close he was. So close you could feel his breath hit the back of your right shoulder.

Since you went double the cover and durability on the top, it didn't need to be too tight. Fully laced up to the last golden eyelets at the back just above your hips, he made a bow knot drawing his bottom lip between his teeth in concentration. Pulling the two round loops to an equal width he let go off the ends, smoothing them to the velvet on the side. He caught your mother's necklace laying on the table. Picking it up he placed it around your neck, in its rightful place, placing your hair back over your shoulders.

Now that you were dolled up and laced up, the outfit looked even better on you. But something still bugged you. The dress sat a little too low, pressing the jewels on your chest together too hard. You went to pull it a little higher forgetting you had food on your hands so you turned around to him.

"Can you-," you blushed looking down at the floor in shame. You've been butt naked in front of him before but this was different. "Forget it," you mumbled.

He hated this. The fact that you couldn't talk to him and refused his help. But one look at your middle and the way your arms crossed over it and he saw why you were uncomfortable. Before you could run away again, he stepped closer and his fingers dug around the upper part of the corset at the back, pulling it higher so it sat better on your chest, giving your babies room to breathe and not get squished. The warmth radiating off his fingers was so welcomed on your cool skin. You had to stop a whine when they left your skin, snapping the velvet back in place.

"We'll be out front when you're ready," he said, letting his eyes fall over you one more time to take you in like it was the last time he would see you, then he left.

"So, the plan is go inside, talk to the guy to get the info, guard your ass and get back to the safety of my bed," said Cho, reiterating a version of the plan you went over in the carriage, that was more fit for his tastes.

"Yeah, basically," you replied.

Stationed a few buildings in front of the club, out of sight of the guards patrolling around, you scouted the place having not been in this part of the city before. It wasn't as heavily guarded as you thought it would be, but there was no telling how many people were inside. Scouting would've been easier if it wasn't so damn cold. The velvet and the coat kept you warm more or less, but your face was getting stabbed by the chilly night air. You sniffed to keep the liquid in your nose inside, eyes tearing up from the cold wind cutting mercilessly through every layer.

Too busy trying to gauge out the number of armed men around the place, you didn't notice Enishi approaching until he was standing directly in front of you. His hand lifted to your face, thumb swiping over your cheek bone tenderly. You were confused until you felt the warm droplets cloud your vision slightly before more of them fell. A few tears managed to roll out down your cheek. The stoic look that he gave you for the last few days was still there, just slightly contorted to a softer gaze.

"Why are you crying?"

At the sound of his stern voice you slapped his hand away. Soft eyes like a deer, voice sharp like a razor.

"I'm not crying, it's just too fucking cold to exist at the moment," you offered him a tight-lipped smile, telling him to fuck off kindly.

"She's right," piped up Cho, shaking beside you even though he had four layers on. "I feel icicles growing in my nostrils. Wanna see?"

"Ew, that's gross," you pushed him away from you before you saw something that would haunt you for a lifetime.

"Let's go in."

Enishi lead the way and you followed with Cho close behind, stopping in front of the guards. While Enishi made quick talk with the guards, one of the them on the side wiping the barrel of his gun with a cloth looked at you suspiciously. Like he knew you from somewhere. You smiled nervously trying to get the tremors in your spine to dissipate. He threw you a weird look before he got back to his gun. You let out a breath of relief when Enishi signalled you to follow him inside.

The long entry corridor was so dimly lit, stretching into a balcony overlooking an even darker area. Red and gold was everywhere. Burgundy satin veils dropped from the ceiling. The chandeliers glinted white gold with so many crystals layered on different levels that it would take you years to count them all on just one. Gold was all over the floor with glittery specks sparkling even in the dark. A big row of tables was scattered in the middle, all of them occupied, including the seats on the big bar at the side. Even the shelving holding the bottles was crystal-like, glowing. They didn't really need any lighting in here, the décor did it all by itself.

Cho offered you a hand before Enishi could, and you took it, descending down the rest of the steps. Walking around the tables, all eyes moved to you at once, some of the loud chatter ceasing to a halt. Some stared at your attire, disgustingly winking or sneering your way. Others quickly scanned you in dismissal to see if you're a threat or just a mere mortal walking around gods of the underworld, way more engrossed in the discussions they were having than to regard you. You assumed those were conversations one was better off not knowing about if they truly treasured life and all its beauties.

Suddenly, Enishi stopped. You halted in your steps too and before you could question it he turned to you, searching around for any potential intruders to your conversation. He leaned closer to you, looking for privacy from even the blonde behind you.

"Let me do the talking," he said, deep dark eyes focusing on you with authority. The kind of authority you didn't like. You opened your mouth to complain until he continued. "If they find out who you are, we might not get out of here alive. So, please, just let me take care of it this time."

This wasn't a warning for you to behave yourself. This was a warning that you were in the middle of a temporary ceasefire and shit could go sideways so fast if you weren't careful. There would be nothing any of you could do to stop it. Not even firing a bullet or breaking a neck. You had to keep a low profile if you wanted both the information and getting out of here the same way you walked in - unharmed.

With a scoff that you hoped didn't go unnoticed, you motioned for him to go on. He threw you another look in seer warning and to your disappointment, he turned back before you could tell him to shove it somewhere the sun doesn't shine. Frankly, you could defend yourself from anything after all the training he put you through. There was a part of you that just wanted to take matters into your own hands, get the info, put some holes through a few of these murderers that the world would be better off without anyways. But the other part, the one that was uneasy and worked overtime to tell you everything was going to go wrong all day, agreed with him. So you just followed behind, keeping your wits to yourself.

Advancing through the field of vipers, you arrived at the far back of the open crowd of tables, drenched into a darker black, the earlier gold at the entrance disappearing into thin shapes on the floor, falling almost invisible if you didn't squint. A deep velvety curtain separated you and finding out more about your parents whereabouts. The same curtain kept behind the sea of monsters that could rip all three of you apart without a sweat. You turned to Cho, catching his Adam's apple bob up and down in a quiet gulp. Even the freak in him that always looked for a fight was scared shitless.

Facing the curtain once more, you took in a shaky breath with eyes shut tight to calm the storm in your heart a little. This was it. If it wasn't... it was over. You'd stop searching. You would get on with your life and start anew somewhere else where no one knew you. You would get to finally live. With an empty, withered, aching heart for the people you grew fond of in such a short time and the ones who have been lost for even longer. Always grieving something that was never found. Always mourning what you found and couldn't keep. Never at peace. But living.

A hand circled around yours, squeezing tight in what could only be reassurance. You knew that squeeze well enough by now. There was no need to second-guess it. Because when you opened your eyes and followed it to the wide, determined pair of shoulders in front of you, you found the man that stood tall beside you all this time. The only person that has been your rock and did everything in his power to help you, even if his first step to you was deceiving. Even if most of what you built together was a lie, it was the sweetest one you've ever felt. The only one who awakened your soul to the brink of both life and death.

The man your heart will always long for.

The curtain was roughly drawn open by a burly guard, rattling to the side of the frame. The hand holding yours fell abruptly, the side of his face hardening as he forged ahead into the fire. Smoke hung in the air, the smell of opium pungent and raw, binding to every breath you took. If you could get a penny for every illegality you've laid eyes on since you entered the place, you would be filthy rich by the time you took three strides in any direction. Because these people made money in one breath, while others laid their lives on the line to die.

This room was larger than the outdoor reception, going around in a spiral on three different levels with red booths and tables lined up on each side. From the immense height of the place this was more of an inner hall, awfully resembling a theatre, definitely used for more private endeavours. Another staircase led down into the middle where a big group of guards and possible triad members played an intense game of blackjack. Supporters on both sides cheered so loud it could make your ears bleed if the volume raised up the slightest decibel. Some hands punched the air in defeat, others laid on the holsters of their guns and sword hilts ready to slice whatever they found inconvenient.

There was one thing they all had in common - sullen eyes, dull of everything but the want for blood. You haven't seen something like this since your time in the fight club and it made shivers go down your spine, spiking some adrenaline into your blood.

Thankfully, Enishi didn't descend down there, but took a right after the guard, leading you through the tables on the right to a set of stairs going up in a marble spiral. You couldn't even see the end of it. You followed the guard in eerie silence that was soon replaced by the ambient sound of violin strings. Thinking you were imagining things from the lack of sleep, you shook your head, but once you stepped on the second level of the hall, the music filtered through your ears.

The tune was almost too hypnotizing not to make you sway a little, like a cobra putting her victims in a trance before it devoured them limb by limb. Though the player was no cobra.

Walking further inside, your eyes went straight to the source of the sound, down in the middle of the pit of dire crime where even more people were dealing their demise in drugs and guns. There, a woman dressed in one of the finest yellow silks you've ever seen, held the instrument close, strumming it skillfully with her eyes closed. Her long luscious black hair, stopping shy of her lower back, moved in sync with the bow on the strings. She was deep into the melody reaching a building crescendo that kept you so focused you couldn't take your eyes off her.

The rising vibrato drove loud around the hall, straining with more tense and rough movements on the violin's body, rushing to reach the climax of the melody. The spike in rhythm made your own heart skip a beat, reaching an auditory high not even the strongest drugs could give you. She carried it all the way through to the last string where the song drew to a stable cadence, slowly drowning out with the fines of piece. And she opened her eyes.

She might've looked like the personification of life itself whilst she played, charging the air with her intense aura, but her jet black eyes told a different story. They were completely hollow, devoid of any of the feelings she instilled in you with the violin mere moments ago. She moved so gracefully even just to simply place her violin down. But she seemed so lost, somewhere inside her mind with no way to get out. Stuck inside this burning world she probably never wanted to be a part of. Just like you. Though you were on the other side of it all, where you still had a choice in your actions.

On your way to circle around the open arch, you passed by her and her eyes met yours briefly. You mustered a small smile her way, appreciative of her strength. She didn't smile, possibly aware of the repercussions if she so much as regarded you. But her eyes turned from those big, sullen orbs to the smallest, barely there crescents, squeezing in acknowledgment.

None of you wanted to be there tonight. Hopefully, you would both make it out for the better.

Cho being, well, his charming self, passed her one of his flirtatious smiles at which she didn't respond with anything other than ignorance, turning back to the bar behind her. Damn, rejected at first sight.

Following through to one table right in the middle of the arch, your eyes stayed fixed on the ring downstairs taking in the rest of your surroundings, looking for any sign you needed to pull your pistols out.

Enishi stopped and passed a court nod of greeting to the man sat down on the other side. He pulled out a chair for you, then sat down at your left. Moving your eyes to the man, you scanned him with suspiciousness. He looked like your average national secrets keeper, roughly middle aged with a small face graced by dark eye bags, high cheekbones and the beginning of an unkept moustache lining above his lips that kind of complemented the sneer he greeted you with.

The black wool jacket he wore over a neatly tucked-in shirt told you he bought his way out of life-threatening situations enough times to build a fortune. No commoner walked around like that. That and the fact that he looked way too confident for someone that was hunted by half the country for being in the know.

Shifting in your seat, you kept to your corner while Enishi made small talk with him. They talked about the state of current politics, the development of the inner and outer trade, touched on the business part, all of those really boring things to focus your attention on. The white wine you were served a while ago still swerved in your glass, captivating you much more than the conversation. Until your family name was mentioned and your attention was back on track.

"I heard you had information about the whereabouts of the Hikari's?" asked Enishi, diving straight to the point since he was clearly annoyed by the man's endless babbling.

"I do in fact," said the man with a tilted corner of his mouth. He laced his hands together and leaned forward on the table, eyes scouring his surroundings in security. "Did you bring what I asked for?"

What he asked for?, you lifted an eyebrow in confusion. I mean, there was no way he would've agreed to this if he wasn't going to get something out of it.

While you tried to figure out what that something could be, Enishi put a hand inside the pocket in his jacket pulling out a piece of paper, laying it out in the middle of the table, open wide for anyone to take a peep at it. A travel pass. Marked with official government seals for both in and out of the country, over an indefinite period, under a false name. His golden ticket out of hell.

The fucker put on a million dollar smile extending a hand to take it when Enishi's own hand laid on top of it at the speed of light, fingers stretching to cover the whole thing. His lips turned into a spine-chilling smirk directed at the man on the other side.

"Tell me where they are and you're a free man."

"One of them in exchange for the paper."

ONE?! I THINK THE FUCK NOT.

There was no way he was negotiating the lives of two people for a nicely written piece of paper with a gold insignia on it. This was fucking ridiculous.

Enishi voiced out your very thoughts, though more composed and in order than you would be able to at the moment because this rat was genuinely getting on your nerves. The more you looked at his smug smirk, the more your fingers twitched really violently under the table towards your pistols.

"The deal was for both of them."

"Yeah, well, things change."

You've got to be shitting me. Things change? The weather changes. My mood changes. It became really murderous right now, you know.

One look at Enishi and he was fuming way more than you were. His tongue pushed the inside of his cheek impatiently, hands fisting the material of the pants and his knee jerked up and down in a nervous tick. Knowing him, this was bad. Really bad.

Keeping your eyes ahead, you reached out to your left where your hand found his, enveloping it around his fist and giving it a good squeeze. You watched his eyes blink repeatedly, body relaxing instantly under your touch. He opened his fist, letting go of the fabric, and turned his own hand upwards giving you a tighter squeeze in response. All is okay, it said.

He knew the brute was trying to pour enough gasoline over you until a spark flew and lit the whole room on fire. But he wasn't going to give him the luxury of an easy way out.

Rolling his shoulder back and leaning over the table, he fixed the man with that one icy glare that meant instant death for him if he answered his question wrong in the slightest.

"It's quite a big bargain, considering two lives in exchange for one and a piece of paper, don't you think?"

Enishi let every word paint with malice, making the threat loud and clear that he wasn't going anywhere without relaying the information you came for. At least not in one whole piece of meat. He sat back in his chair, disappointment bright as day on his face, clearly rethinking his escape route. Seen as he couldn't come to an understanding with the man next to you, his gaze came to you, eyebrows drawn in bold challenge as he took you in for an easy target.

Keep your cool, Miyu. Don't lose it. Stay quiet.

His eyes walked all over your face, spending a little too much time on your red lips for his own good.

Keep calm.

Then they moved down your neck, bathing in the grace of your exposed collar bones, slowly diving down to your humble but really open cleavage.

Don't be rash.

The corner of his lips turned up into a grin, slowly growing into a toothy smile you wanted to bash in until all that shone was blood. Maybe tearing his mouth off his face and feeding it to a pack of dogs on the street would be good riddance too so no one would have to deal with him again.

"Do I know you from somewhere?"

"Not from the places you probably frequent," you shot back curtly.

Well, too late to back out now.

"And which do you think those might be?" he asked, his attention solely on you now, his new object of entertainment.

You could feel Enishi tensing again beside you, his sharp glare digging into the side of your skull willing you to not say one more word. Cho tensed behind you too. But you being you, letting your conscience hit the ignore button, leaned forward and continued, voice dripping with charm and sweetness. The very thing this bloke's kind loved to death.

"Oh, I wouldn't know," you replied with a small giggle, laying your chin on top of your entwined hands. "But if I were to take a guess, it would be somewhere illegal, with a lot of guns and enough money to shove in the panties of naked women," you counted on your fingers each thing, getting more disgusted with each excited nod of his at your words.

The man stood quiet for a moment, the suspense of the repercussions following your small but meaningful conversation really killing the vibe. By vibe, you meant the patience of your chaperones that would face palm right now if they could.

Before anything unexpected happened, the older man threw his head back making a really heinous sound that resembled a laugh. Letting a half-smile on your lips, you turned to Enishi with a Why the fuck is he laughing? look at which he was just as puzzled, then turned back to the oddity in front of you that didn't belong to the human species in any way.

"I like this one," he howled, clearly finding you amusing.

"That's too bad," Enishi let out under a breath.

"And why is that?" he asked, not taking his curious eyes off of you at all, trying to intimidate you.

You were about to deliver another piece of your mind when Enishi went on, stating your status crystal clear.

"She's not on the market," he growled, the possessiveness in his tone unmissable for anyone around the table. That made the creepy stare finally leave you, replaced by the dark one of your gray-haired man.

"That's a shame," said the man, leaning back in his chair. "She would've been a great add-on to the deal."

"No more negotiations. You either take what we already offered or we're leaving."

The smug grin on his face turned into a scowl. You had the upper hand here, not him. He could try and turn it up and down and sideways, but he either took his freedom at the cost of spilling the information or being a dead man. More dead than the world already wanted him to be.

The static silence was all of a sudden filled by enthusiastic yells from below, belonging to the group playing cards two levels down. That veered you away from the fact that the man's eyes fixed on you with a different meaning this time. He took in your necklace again then your hair and your eyes and spoke before you could even catch it.

"I do know you," he started, amusement morphing into a knowing look.

Yeah, right.

"If you're going to say something like 'you're the girl of my dreams' I'm gonna have to stop you right there-"

"You're that troublesome Hikari swine that I've been trying to hunt down for the Triads all this time," he chuckled darkly.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

This wasn't supposed to happen. There's no way he was telling the truth. He must be bluffing to get the paper. There's no way anyone here knew you. Then it dawned on you. The guard at the main entrance cleaning his gun. The men at the reception. The very lizard who called you to negotiate his freedom. This was a trap. Enishi had a mole in his mafia. You were fucked.

"Say a word to anyone and your head will fly off your shoulders before you take a breath to scream for help," grunted the man beside you.

The chill running down your spine wasn't comforted at all by that threat. The nerves in your stomach weren't settled by it either. This was bad. So, so, so, so catastrophically bad.

It wasn't even your fault because the guy made it clear he knew you. He had information on you. He knew who you were. He knew you were looking for your parents.

Your gut was right again. The whole night went wrong. Your parents' safety was compromised, same with the safety of the three of you.

"I don't have to say a thing," he chuckled darkly. "This was the plan all along."

One lift of his index finger had every conversation and extra sound around you ceasing immediately. Guns cocked and swords unsheathed from every side of the level, pointing straight at you. Even the poker game downstairs stopped, followed by confused grunts at why the game stopped.

This meeting was indeed a trap. A possibility that none of you even considered in the slightest. You walked straight into the fire and you didn't even feel the very embers of hell burning under your feet. Nothing could even warn you of this. Not even your gut.

A quick glance around told you there were about twenty of them. Just on your level. You didn't know about the other ones and you had to count the pack at the poker table, the other people in the main room, the reception and the guards from outside. At most you'd get through half of them and meet your death in this stinky crime club. Or apply for a seasonal membership. Maybe that would chill the waters a little. Or money. Enishi had a lot of that. He would surely spare a few bags for charity-

"So you don't know where they are. Good. That settles it," concluded Enishi rather flatly, grabbing your full attention as you whirled in your seat to gape at him.

Settles what? My foot through your face once we get out of here? Probably as corpses but still.

"No, that doesn't settle it-" you were cut off by the whoosh of a knife flying from beside you.

It was too fast to catch who launched it, though when you traced the location of the sound, you saw Enishi's hand wide open, fingers flexing in the opposite direction. Your eyes trailed there spotting two silver knives, not bigger than three inches, lodged right between the scowling man's eyes, blood trickling down the side of his nose and onto the white sheet on the table, drenching it crimson.

Good luck getting that spot out, was your first thought. There went my only shot at finding my parents, was your second. Your third was swimming somewhere in the sea of contemplation when several voices shouted your name together with a rough hand yanking your arm to the left.

"GET DOWN!"

Before you could register anything, Enishi pulled you off the chair behind the table he threw over in a haste. Your instincts took a while to come around but once they kicked in your guns were up and taking aim, shooting over the safety of the table edge.

Enishi covered you from the side, sending smaller knives along the the lining of the middle level, launching them so hard they dug deep into anyone who even thought of aiming their gun at you.

Cho guarded your back, swords already unsheathed from the inner holds of his coat, cutting into the bullets flying at you. Thank god Enishi sharpened the blades before you left otherwise he wouldn't have been able to cut anything, not even a piece of cake.

You took out quite a few of the men rushing in from the front, taking cover behind the still upright body of the man who screwed you over. At least he proved useful for once in his probably completely miserable life. You shot one on the right, hid behind him, then shot on the left. But the safety block around you, ensuring your cover, dispersed way too quickly.

Cho dove into the crowd further behind you, trying to keep guards from the lower and upper levels from flooding inside. Enishi advanced ahead with your bullets, taking on the ones still on your level, now sporting swords since their guns ran out.

Who even expected this to turn into shooting practice? Because unfortunately you ran out too of bullets too. Placing your pistols back in their straps on your thighs, you fixed your dress and blew a breath.

Time to crack some skulls.

You stretched your arms, unaware of the incoming tackle coming from behind you. Two arms, smaller and thinner than yours, wrapped around your middle, the impact of the collision throwing you to the floor. You crashed over on your back as the person's hands dove right to your neck to strangle you, pinning your body down to the ground with theirs. Yellow silk flew in your vision immediately recognizing who it belonged to - the violinist.

She pushed down on your neck, unskilled and leaving way too much room for you to move. Since she was weaker than you, it was easy to turn the boat over by throwing her to the side in one swift kick of your leg. She flew off of you, crashing into the side of a booth. You coughed up for air since she got a pretty good hold of your neck. That horrible white wine climbed up your neck and you shoved it down deep. So not the time stomach. Come on. You handle shittier alcohol better than this.

You got back up from the floor just as she did, running at you with pieces from a broken glass. Her hand flailed about trying to graze you as you avoided her faster than she could move. One swing of the sharp glass had you bend backwards over the marble railing, nearly slipping and falling to your doom. Having had enough of her antics, you kicked the glass out of her hand and grabbed a hold of her wrist, spinning her to land face down on the side of the bar. She elbowed you hard and threw another piece of glass at you that did cut your shoulder enough for your hold on her to slip.

That's it, fuck girl code.

You grabbed a fistful of her long hair, wrapping it around your palm until you had a good hold on it and shoved her against the wooden surface multiple times and dragged her all the way to the end of it until she slid down to the ground. She still got up on wobbly legs, red dripping from her broken cheekbone staining the nice sunny yellow color of her dress. Letting out a growl like a wild cat, she launched herself at you again, grabbing onto your necklace from behind trying to choke you with it. You spotted a nearby gin bottle on a vacated table and grabbed it, smacking it down hard on her head, knocking her out unconscious. She finally let go of you, landing splat on the floor.

Why do all my attempts at making friends turn into befriending backstabbers?

Now that you were free and ready for some actual fighting, you noticed the level was empty. You ran to the stairs and got down to the first floor, spotting Enishi busy slashing people into shish-kebabs.

I should help around.

It wasn't long before you took notice of your next victims. Drawing backwards to the wall, you ran to the marble ledge of the circle at full speed, jumping over it to land right in the middle of the poker table, coins and cards rattling off the table at the impact. Lifting your gaze, you just so happened to make eye contact with the very people that made your last casino visit a tremendous pleasure.

"You," snarled the big man as he threw his hands on the table, staring you down like you killed his entire clan or something.

"Did you guys know you suck at poker?" you smiled at him and his two men, showing your teeth on purpose to piss him off. "You owe me money, sweetcheeks."

That remark was enough for him to slash his sword over the table. You jumped over it rushing forwards to kick him right under his chin. That sent him backwards in a daze struggling to keep upright. The tip of your boot scrapped his nose good, blood dripping down the side of it.

While he got his bearings around, you took on his men, fighting both of them at once. They were weaponless, trying to use the sheer force of their grip to reach for you but you were faster than them. On grabbed your arm and the other your leg and you served them exactly what you served your idiots the other day - a spin with a kick straight to the jaw and a fist right in the chest. They stumbled backwards then came at you again. One sent a fist and the other a kick your way and you jumped forwards through the small space between them, tumbling back on the ground to sweep their feet from under them. They both hit the floor with a thud, grunting in pain. Walking over to them with your fists ready in another fighting stance, their eyes widened and they scurried off the floor, falling over each other on their way to the exit.

Tsk, pussies.

Turning around, your smile faded instantly at the sight of the very angry mafia boss you beat at his own game, stole from, and now gave a nosebleed to. He was way bigger than you in size, towering over you. This was a rendition of David and Goliath you weren't excited for at all. You cracked a nervous smile and tried to run but he grabbed you like a toy, lifting you off the ground and into the air, way above his own height. You swung your legs forwards, wrapping them around his neck to straddle his face trying to strangle him.

He let go of your waist and grabbed at your dress instead, stumbling around to shove you off. You flexed the muscles of your thighs as hard as you could to cut his airflow when he ran straight into a wall. Your back collided with it roughly, loosening some of your grip on his neck but not enough to get you off. This wasn't going to work. So you changed your angle, rounding around to his back like a rodent, thrusting a strong elbow into the back of his head before he could even reach for you. The blow sent him falling face first into the floor, diving like a ship to its wreckage. He tried to get up murmuring some words you couldn't understand. You leaned closer and he grabbed your hair smacking you into the poker table.

"Little bitches like you belong in the brothel," he spat out with a bloody sneer.

That was enough to spur your rage and smack your head right into his, falling backwards on top of him. You punched him with all you had, until his face morphed into a deep garnet. His eyelids were swollen, his cheeks bruised and that sneer entirely gone from his cut lips. He was still alive but barely recognizable when you got up. "That's what you get for grabbing and talking to a lady like that. Learn some fucking manners," you spoke to the hunk laying still as a boulder.

The loud clinking of swords echoed from above. Your eyes travelled up just in time to see a lock of blonde hair tipping dangerously over the railing on the top floor. Checking on Enishi that he was okay with his own hoard of snarling men with blades, you ran to the stairs hoping to get to blondie before it was too late and he was flunked over like a chicken learning how to fly.

You heaved breaths like you ran a marathon, body working only on the rush of adrenaline you got from beating up the boss of the Daos. Stopping by the second level to take a breather, you leaned over the railing for support. Your eyes darted downwards at the spiral, looking at how far away from the ground you were already.

Now's not the time to freak out. Let's save blondie.

His voice echoed with a curse just as you reached the doorframe of the third level, finding a burly guard holding him by the collar of his shirt over the railing. His legs stopped running on air, hands gripping the guard's tight. He looked to the side at the drop below him and yanked on the guard's hand again. Looking left and right, you saw no one else on the floor and took off running towards the guard. You jumped high in the air and aimed a kick at his head just as it whirled around at you. You caught him off-guard, heeled foot colliding with the side of his face, pushing him to the side into a table without realizing that he let go of Cho in the process.

Your heart stopped watching the blonde fall, thinking that was his end. But you got too ahead of yourself. He grabbed a hold of the edge holding on tight to it as you let out a breath. Jesus Christ. You rushed to help him over to the safety of ground, sliding your hands under his arms and grabbing onto his shoulders to hoist him over. He grabbed onto you too, just not in the right area.

"That's my ass, you moron," you hissed, struggling to get him over.

"Sorry," he grunted. "Actually, not sorry."

That made you yank him so hard you ended up falling on the floor together. Staring at the ceiling, you caught a few breaths before the guard got back up and rushed at you with a sword. The blade came down on you as you both rolled to the side. Cho got up before you to pick up his swords, going back to dueling the guard while you aided with a kick here and there. Where you punched his side, the blonde cut his other one. The guard grunted in pain but continued attacking you.

One misjudged lift of your leg had him grabbing onto it with his free hand pulling on it and spinning around, tossing you into a table. The side of your head collided with the wooden edge hard, sending your vision swimming in black and white. Cho spared a quick glimpse at you before he attacked the guard violently, slashing his blade right across his chest, both of his arms and his legs, his back and everywhere he had exposed himself. He did it so many times until the guard fell to his knees in a pile of his own blood.

The world was a red haze around you, ears ringing and stinging at the same time. That awful wine climbed back up your throat nearly getting out this time. You were struggling to get your eyes to work when Cho kneeled before you dropping his swords to the floor. One of his hands settled on your shoulders trying to get you to focus while the other brushed somewhere over your right temple. He ripped a piece of table cloth and placed it over the open wound as you winced. The small prick of pain sobered you up enough to blink properly, slowly getting your vision back to normal.

"You're bleeding," he tapped the cloth gently gathering the small drops of red around the right side of your face, concern lacing his voice. You took his hand away, stopping his worried dabs at your scalp. "I'm okay."

His eyes dove down from the cut on your head to the one peeking from under your hair. He moved your hair away, brushing a thumb over the skin of your shoulder, grounding his teeth in annoyance.

"Who did this?"

"You have awful taste in women," you laughed, regretting it when it sent another pang of pain to your head. "I took care of her already."

"The violinist?! Seriously?" You nodded dabbing the cloth some more on your head. "Damn, she got you pretty good."

Honey orbs came back up to yours after he searched every other inch of you for more injuries only to find your knuckles bruised and bloody. But nothing else that looked life threatening like the gash on your head. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm good. Let's go kick some more ass and get the fuck out of here."

He straightened and gave you a hand, pulling you up to your feet. "I'll go check the other levels. Stay safe, okay?"

"You too. Meet you downstairs."

Enishi stumbled downstairs in the poker area with two crossed swords above him threatening to cut his neck open. He kicked the men in the shins and threw their swords away, landing a hit in one's stomach that ricocheted into the other's, getting rid of them both with a roundhouse kick. Another one came at him and he grabbed his jacket pulling him back to smack right into an incoming blade attack. That one got impaled before he even saw it coming.

Suddenly, even more pooled in with loaded guns aiming right at him. At the noise of open fire, you rushed to the edge of the railing watching as he dodged a few bullets and managed to get cover behind the poker table but there were too many shots flying through, sending splinters of wood everywhere. They were shooting with long bulky rifles as if this was a hunting party.

You had company too, bigger and wider than the last one coming for hand to hand combat. Defending his hits as best as you could, you tried getting some in with knee kick into his abdomen. Your fists aimed for his head until he dropped down to the floor and swiped your legs from under you, landing on your back with him on top of you strangling you.

I'm getting tired of this choking kink.

"MIYU, A LITTLE HELP OVER HERE IF YOU MAY!" shouted Enishi, throwing off a guard that pinned him to the floor out of nowhere, just in time to roll out of the way of more bullets flying past his head.

You looked around finding no weapon in grabbing distance. Reaching your hand down, you lifted one of your legs up and wiggled your fingers to grab a hold of one of your pistols. Your air supply was slowly shortening seeing stars when you finally got a hold of the handle, bringing it up and bashing it into the man's head over and over and over again until he fell to the side. Once you got some usable air back inside you pulled yourself over to the railing.

"DON'T YELL AT ME!" you yelled back down, scrambling to your feet to look for a gun around the place. You found a few, plying them off the hands of the bodies attached to them, but most were empty of bullets so you threw them back on the floor.

"I'M NOT YELLING AT YOU. I'M BEING SHOT AT IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED," he yelled back. You knew he didn't have a lot of time before a bullet reached him. He fought like a monster but he wasn't bulletproof.

As you rushed around, frantically searching for anything that could shoot long distance, you caught sight of the barrel of a gun peeking from under a table. It was a rifle. Its carcass still had a bunch of unused bullets in it. Bingo.

"HOLD ON."

Running back to the margin, you dropped down laying on your belly, positioning the barrel through the opening in the ledge, opening fire on the flank downstairs. You got most of them in the shoulder or the chest, aim slightly blurry due to the wound on your head and the huge distance to the ground.

Enishi looked at you for a second, eyes not worried but prideful. You took notice quickly as you charged the bullet carcass focusing on the task at hand. If there wasn't so much uncertainty between you right now you might've said it meant a lot. And it did but not right now.

Too focused on taking out the men at the entrance you didn't see the incoming attack. You rolled out just in time before a bottle crashed down on you in payback, finding the violinist at your demise again. Does she ever like read the room? She grabbed a chair and whirled it around trying to hit you with it. You grabbed one of your own hitting her with it and she fell to the ground. You checked she was knocked out for good this time.

Running to the staircase, you only got to the first step before you heard shouting echoed from the lower levels. Quickly backing up into the level, you looked for another way out only to find none. The staircase was your only shot. Veering around, you caught sight of the red drapes adorned on the side of a marble pillar, going all the way to the higher ceiling.

Spotting a sword under the guard Cho cut up like a chicken on a gyros stick, you ran to it trying to pull it from under him. Pushing his body over with your leg, you twisted it on all sides pulling on the handle until you finally pried it out. Without a second thought, you ran to the ledge leaning on it to grab a veil. It took several tries nearly meeting your doom since the fabric was drilled into the pillar. You kept trying. When you got a solid grip around it you tugged on it hard until you yanked it free from the side and the pillars it was stuck to under, pulling it over to you.

Supporting your weight on one of the pillars you got up on the ledge, dropping the rest of the veil down into the void. If at first this seemed like a good idea, now that you were looking at the red ends of the drapes whirling in the air about eight meters down into rapid gunfire and dirty restaurant tables, it seemed like the shittiest idea you could have come up with in your whole entire life.

Oh, for fucks sake. Just looking down made you nauseous and sick to your stomach. I hate heights.

Rough voices climbed closer behind you, followed by the echoes of gun magazines clicking open and closed only spurring the knots in your belly. One thing was for sure. If you didn't take the jump now and stayed to fight them absolutely weaponless, you were done for. You'd end up with holes in you and you worked too hard on that dress to ruin it with bullets.

Just close your eyes and jump, you breathed out, trying to calm your rapidly racing heart, beating faster than the bullets fired below.

Save your idiots and get back home to Koru, you reasoned with yourself, holding the sword close to you.

Come on, you've got this.

You let go of the pillar, balancing your boots on the ledge. On a deep shaky inhale of breath, you wrapped your hands tight around the veil giving it another thug to test its safety once more just for your peace of mind, and leaned back exhaling all your hopes and dreams into the void below as you fell forwards, going down into the fire.

Your mind emptied of everything else. The clangs of swords, the whizzing of bullets, the angry shouts of battle from above and beyond you. You made your senses entirely numb to the rest of the world. All you focused on was the wind blowing through your hair as you descended down the material at a faster rate than you imagined, holding onto that piece of fabric like it was your lifeline, your own purgatory between heaven and hell.

Peering down to spot Enishi, you caught him looking back at you in the middle of the crossfire in utter shock. You're batshit crazy, you'd hear him say once you got back to the ground - if that even happened - so until then, you focused on staying glued to the veil.

Looking out to reach above him, you plied one hand free from the veil and dropped the sword to him. He caught it, getting right into a swing at a guy who wanted to blow his head off, slicing through him before he got the chance to pull the trigger. Too focused on him, you failed to notice the rapidly approaching wall you were about to face plant into at an unreal speed. Mere seconds before you splattered into it like a bird into a window, your body reacted before your mind could think it through and your fingers loosened around the veil .You let go. With five more meters to go to the ground. And no one to catch you.

You scream pierced through the hall bouncing off the walls like a ghostly shriek, making everyone stop and look up at your falling form, including Enishi and Cho. They shared a look assessing the situation - they were both under way too much pressure as more guards and thugs pooled in from the entrance. The blonde immediately went back to his row of blades trying to keep the incoming ambush outside of the room. Though he was closer to you there was no way for him to get to you without getting torn to pieces first.

Enishi's mind switched to autopilot, butchering everyone that stood in his way with the sole goal of getting to you before it was too late. Sheer adrenaline flew through him like hot fire as he took off towards the poker table using it as a boost to propel him to the other tables, hopping from one to the other at a breakneck speed. Blades piled up in his way. He swerved blows left and right, keeping his eyes on you, rushing to get to the end. As you got closer to the ground, his mind preoccupied only with you and your safety, nothing more, nothing less. He needed to reach you no matter what. He couldn't lose you, not like this.

Not yet. Not now. Not ever, echoed in his head like the beating of a drum inside of his chest, loud and drowning everything else around him.

Before you could splat on the floor, he jumped off the last table dropping his sword and launched himself up gaining momentum from his run. He caught you mid-air, wrapping his arms around you the best he could. The force of your bodies colliding sent you sideways, landing on the lower level of the hall. Your bodies hit the ground, rolling over together like a ball. You squeezed your eyes shut, digging your head into him, hands grappling to hang on to his jacket for dear life. You slammed hard into a booth, falling on your back with him on top of you, still safely tucked in his arms but coming to a stop from the endless tumble.

You were in shock, taking quick breaths without realizing you were no longer in the air falling to your death but on the safety of the expensive burgundy carpet. Enishi called your name multiple times but you couldn't hear him at all, mind stuck in the loop above the floor. He hauled you up and propped you against a pillar trying to get you to focus on him.

"You're okay. You're okay. Hey, hey, look at me," he said softly, caressing the side of your face. Your eyes finally focused on him, terrified out of your mind but at least you were back in the present. "You're okay. You're safe now."

"Fucking-," you drew in a strangled inhale holding onto his shoulders. "Holy shit. Jesus. I-I'm never doing that again. I hate heights. I hate them so much." A bunch of incoherent curses and rambles spilled out of your lips.

"I know. I know," he stroked your arms up and down trying to calm you down. "No more jumping. I promise." You threw your head back to the pillar behind you catching your breath really good for the first time tonight when he spoke again. "Though that was pretty badass," he pointed up at the spot you jumped from and chuckled at which you punched his shoulder.

Once you were past the shock of it, you chuckled as well. "Well, hope you were watching because I'm never doing that shit again even if you pay me."

He laughed shaking his head at how amusement could hit you at the most random times ever. It was pretty welcomed considering the situation. Peering over the ledge to check on Cho, he noticed the blonde was getting outnumbered, not from the exit but from the rest of the hall.

"We have to get out of here now."

"Couldn't agree more."

"Let's get blondie and go," he pulled you up handing you a spare rifle, securing a firm hold around your hand.

You ran together to the door that was now missing the big dark red curtain, only a strip of material left above. You split up there. Enishi ran out through the door missing its curtain to check on the rest of the ground. You ran to the exit too, propping the rifle on top of the staircase leading down in the poker lounge, taking aim at the crowd surrounding Cho. You pulled the trigger relentlessly, drilling holes into every person around him, not waiting until they fell down to get to the next one. You were a Russian roulette they had no control of. Ten bullets was all it took and they all fell to the ground, writhing in pain or completely dead depending on where your bullet hit. The blonde looked at the pile of bodies lowering his swords.

"Took you a while," he teased breathing raggedly, still standing in the middle of the room.

"Was kinda falling from the sky in case you didn't notice," you deadpanned, pointing upwards.

He nodded just as Enishi came back from scouting the perimeter giving you the all clear through haggard breaths. "It's empty. For now. Let's get the fuck out of here."

It's been a few moments, between you running through the main room that was entirely deserted to the carriage and starting your ride back to safety, where everything was quiet. You slumped back in your seat, adrenaline of the fight wearing off a little. It started raining, faint droplets prodding against the small covered windows, making the atmosphere even more humid and heavy than it already was.

Pending chaos hung in the air and your stomach twisted in tight knots again. You tried to figure out what it was that ripped anxiety through you once more. Because it wasn't the mop of hair sitting before you, looking down at the floor, earlier relief on his features replaced by rage like something was going to crack. The wind blew. The carriage stumbled on the road swaying you to the side. Thunder rumbled deep into the darkened sky. And something did crack.

"You just couldn't stay away from it, could you?" boomed Enishi out of nowhere.

He was talking to you, trying to understand why in the world you couldn't just follow one simple thing he asked of you. To let him handle it. You talked to that scum like he wasn't the wolf in sheep's clothing, waiting for you to reveal yourself. You even went and nearly shook hands with death more times than he could count on his fingers - with the Daos, the violinist, jumping from the tallest level and so much more. All because you were simply and utterly the most hardheaded person he's ever come across in his life. He wasn't going to let you off this time.

"Not when it involved them," you shook your head gripping the material of your dress to keep your own wrath under control. "You know that."

"I told you I had it under control-"

"YOU DIDN'T! If anything it was you who made it worse," you spat out, sitting back with your arms folded over your chest, shooting daggers at him.

"I made it worse?" he pointed at himself, letting out a snarky laugh. "I think it was your ego trying to strike a deal with that scum that can't even be called a human being. I didn't take you for an idiot until I saw you entertaining him."

"AN IDIOT?! You were just as stupid thinking he would take the deal without leverage over us. Did it even cross your mind at one point that he never wanted to give us information and he was only trying to get us killed?"

"Don't turn this on me, Miyu."

"Oh, I will turn it however the fuck I want to. Because," you started counting on your fingers again, "number one, you had us go in there with no guarantee or at least some sort of backup plan. Number two, we left empty-handed with absolutely no clue where my parents are. And number three, which should be quite high up on the list actually, is that you're being an absolute asshole right now." At that he rolled his eyes, tongue poking his cheek in anger again as he looked away from you. "Wait, no, rewind that. You have been an absolute dick for the past few days. So, what the fuck is your problem?"

"My problem?! My problem is this blonde scoundrel you like so much getting ahead of himself to act like your fucking bodyguard tonight, nearly getting yourselves killed ten meters above ground," he said, pointing accusingly to the man beside you as if he committed heinous crimes against society. Well, he did, but not recently.

"Me?!" gasped Cho from beside you, obviously appalled at the exchange. "I only came for Miyu, not for you."

"I only came for Miyu," he imitated the blonde like a child, voice going a tad bit higher than normal.

Well that's an Enishi you don't see every day.

"You didn't even bat a fucking eye when she was falling from the sky, did you lizard?"

"I was getting cut up like a salami at the front door in case you didn't notice. Sorry I couldn't jump to catch her like you, Mister 'I'm the Prince of the Frogs and flying is my specialty'. My deepest sincere apologies that I can't repay your virtuousness with some fucking flies."

They continued bickering, each male throwing in more insults and angrily mansplaining their side, adding to the dull ache already forming behind your eyes. You averted your eyes to the small rectangle behind Enishi's head, watching the path covered by the forest you left behind.

Lightning struck, lighting up the path turning muddy in a bright white flash before letting darkness soak it up again. When you went to look away, a small flicker not bigger than a tiny dot in the distance caught your attention.

Thinking it was just your sleep deprived imagination playing tricks on you, you paid it no mind. But that flicker continued to burn, small, still there in the dark, till it grew slightly bigger, a flame now noticeable even as the carriage got further away. You waited for lightning to light up the path again so your worries could settle a little but the next strike didn't come. You sat forward, squinting your eyes at it unable to make out what the fuck it was. Then lightning struck again, this time illuminating what looked awfully like the very thing your gut has been trying to warn you about all day long.

Danger.

Shaken to your core by what you saw possibly a few yards behind about to head your way, your hands shot out to stop the two men bickering by your side, flailing in all sides as your mouth failed to work with you. They stopped, looking at you concerned. A familiar hand gripped your hand stopping your panicked wriggling sliding in your line of sight.

"What's wrong?" asked its owner, worry taking over the previous release of rage in his voice. You suddenly had the strength to speak.

"We need to get off the carriage. NOW!"

The urgency in your voice was enough to alert them. They followed the direction where your eyes were staring pointedly at, but it was too late. Whatever that flame flickering in the darkness is, it was launched right at you at lightning speed, growing bigger and wider the more it advanced towards the carriage, now resembling a giant fireball.

"GET DOWN!"

Before you knew it a loud boom echoed from under you, shaking the mahogany walls with a horrible sound. You felt the carriage leaping upwards and tilting on its side just like the contents in your stomach. It spun in the air becoming a death trap, losing gravity as it barreled off the side of the road. Timber creaked with each spin, sending you left and right into every wooden surface. You reached out to grab a hold of something only to be pushed harshly into the backrest, hitting the wooden wall with the back of your head so hard that black and white swam in your vision.

You blanked out a few times, coming to only to feel it still spinning out of control to god knows where. The only thing you could focus on was the smell of smoke that started enveloping the whole carcass with no ventilation to go out only inside your lungs. Bile rose in your throat playing an intense game with your guts that you couldn't stomach.

The force of it landing on the ground made a loud crack come from your right, followed by multiple louder ones as the body of the carriage rolled and rolled, slowly caving in on itself. You thought the spinning would never stop. That you would roll endlessly. Until it did, coming to an abrupt halt against what you assumed to be a huge tree bark. The body of the carriage hit it so hard that it split it into pieces, the force of the blow sending you far into the grass, together with a piece of broken wood you landed head first into and blacked out.

Pain was the only thing you could process. It hurt everywhere. Gravity held you down to the ground captive in a steel grip. Your sense of feeling was slowly returned to you, little by little in a haze, before it hit you like a truck.

The first thing you tasted was the blood on your lips, probably bitten in the mid-flight to hell. They felt numb, not responding to your intention to make them move open from being clamped shut. The dragging breaths you struggled to take in through your nose were just as rejected by your chest. Broken ribs, you figured. The question was how many of them were usable. A big part of your insides were messed up, pulse shuddering everywhere but in your chest. It took a while to feel anything else. You gained some feeling below your shoulders and tried moving your hand, successfully lifting your forearm. When you tried more, electricity shot up your nerves and your shoulder protested in pain. Same with your feet, although one ankle moved enough when you twisted it around. The other laid completely numb.

Opening your eyes, you tried focusing on something that didn't hurt. The putter of small droplets on your forehead turned into bigger arrows of water stabbing your face. The small rain turned into a monsoon. Tall trees lining into the clouded skyline gave you no comfort. You were in the middle of nowhere. No one lived here. No one even crossed these roads. The smell of fire hit you from your right, stomach churning at what you would find if you turned your head.

Taking an excruciating deep breath in, you willed the sore muscles in your neck to work with you and let you see what laid there. Once your eyes rolled to the side, your head followed and your heart ached at the sight. Among debris from what used to be a beautiful dark oak carriage, encrusted in golden crest motives, there were only scattered pieces of wood burning to a crisp, fire not extinguished at all by the rain but seemingly burning hotter, sputtering but deadly the more gusts of wind enraged it.

Looming further you spotted the sleeves of an olive suit you worked on for endless hours, ripped to shreds all the way to a pair of biceps, deeply scratched by twigs and splinters. Cho. His chest raised slowly but his eyes were closed, covered by his blonde hair that turned dirty from the mud he rolled through. He's okay, you sighed in relief. You weren't sure how okay since he appeared to be passed out, but at least he was breathing.

Then your breath got caught in your throat.

Enishi. Where is he?

You whirled your head around unable to pin his location, frustrated that you couldn't move the rest of your body and get up to look for him. You pulled on your limbs, stretching every wound into agonising pain as fiery tingles stabbed at your extremities to will you to stay put. But you couldn't stay put. You had to move before your body locked up completely. You had to look for him. He had to be around here. He had to be okay.

You moaned in pain rolling to your left on your dislocated shoulder. Looking into the darkened forest, you searched all pieces of burning wood and golden marble until something that looked like hair and a body appeared to the far reach of the forest opening. A gray dot that was now turning dark, lying in the grass with his head turned to the side that wasn't facing you. His suit was ripped to shreds even more, pierced by the scorched bushes behind him so hard that it reached his skin deeply. Parts of the fabric remained intact on the small twigs, floating in the wind. All the shreds had crimson blood leaking out, staining the beautiful indigo a lot of shades darker.

His chest wasn't moving. He wasn't moving. He wasn't conscious. The rain continued falling even harder making it harder to make out anything from your spot. You had to go to him. You needed to see his face.

Reaching out the hand that somewhat worked, you grabbed a flock of grass that seemed sturdier and pulled yourself in his direction. It hurt so much, ripping your wounds open wider. But you continued. Every pull scraped your knees, twisting your bad ankle even more, grunting with every rock and twig scratching against your broken ribs. Just a little more, you pleaded with your body, feeling the tingles slowly turn to numbness the more you put pressure on them. Just let me reach him, you begged to any god listening to give you some energy. Your nails dug into the mud, making use of anything you could find around you. A wooden plank, a larger stick, grass.

Three more weeds climbed in unbearable pain and you ended up next to him, gripping his arm to pull yourself up for the last time. Your forehead fell into the crack of his bruised elbow, letting out a relieved groan. I got to him.

Your eyes lifted to find him as still as a few moments ago when you found him, head turned to the other side. Stretching your right arm in pain, you grabbed a hold of his face to turn it to you. His beautiful lips were cracked, blood stagnant around his lower one, dripping with the beads of rain falling down.

His cheeks were both cut, one rougher than the other and a gash sat near his left temple. His eyes remained closed. Fear stirred inside of you and you started shaking him with what little strength you had left. The bell in his ear rattled noisily over the rain and your heart beating out of control in panic.

"Enishi," you croaked out, unstable and tired. "Open your eyes. Please," you cried, head falling onto his chest.

You listened for a sound in the blaring rain, being met with a small thud of a heartbeat. His chest was moving but way too slow for your liking.

Cradling his less damaged cheek in your hand, you rubbed it trying to get him to wake up. Come back to me, you screamed inside, leaning your head back on his chest. "You said you wouldn't leave me. Please don't break your promise," you laid a kiss on top of his chest, letting yourself cry. "I won't break mine."

A groan reverberating under you made your eyes snap to his. His eyebrows joined together in pain as he slowly came to and worked to open his eyes. Come on, open them, you encouraged, relief washing over you. You saw the small, barely there flutter of his eyelids before you were pulled away from him.

A rough hand wrapped around your broken ankle, dragging you away. You thrashed in their hold as they pulled you up, kicking back and forth, trying to reach back for Enishi only to be yanked harder. Your world turned upside down as they hoisted you up on their back, turning to walk away from the clearing back on the main road. Punching and punching until your hands cramped, you tried to get them to let you down. But they just wouldn't budge. Not even an inch.

Something hard connected with your head, turning the earlier throb from the crash drilling into every part of your head. Spots appeared even faster in your vision, threatening to take you away for good this time. The last thing you saw before you gave in were his dark eyes opening wide.

You wanted to scream. To let him know he wasn't alone. That you didn't leave. But it was too late.

Darkness took you before you managed to open your mouth.

Flashes.

Images flashed in black and white, familiar with the darkness of the night. Even in colours, too bright to be the morning sun or the brightness of daylight.

More flashes.

You blinked through the haze weighing your eyelids. A pair of dirty boots came into view, upside down walking on a concrete path. Your ears perked up catching some muffled voices. Then your eyes closed again.

The next time they opened, you were upright, propped on a cold stone wall in a pitch black corner. It allowed you to see the rest of the room. Dark light, rusty steel bars and cold floors under your feet, you figured you could only be in one place - a holding cell. Somewhere deep underground from how freezing cold and humid it was.

A set of keys jingled loudly against the bars, hurting your sensitive ears. That horrifying boom still echoed inside your head, as if it was still happening over and over again, spinning into the nothingness of the forest. Someone walked inside, steps composed and lanky, looking for trouble. Dirty dress shoes stopped in front of you. Your vision was heavily damaged from the constant hits your head took all night but you willed to work at least enough to identify the person. Your lack of a reaction made them crouch down before you, forcefully tilting your chin to them. Once your eyes came into focus, heavy but clear, you were ready to set all hell loose.

"You."

The sneering snake looked you in the eye with sheer delight just like the spawn of satan he was. The smirk on his face was enough to make your hands shoot out to his neck only to pull against the metal shackles restraining you.

"Pleasure to see you again, kiddo."

Thank you for reading :) Next

[funkycatbruh]

Kim Taehyung

one shots y series favs

COMPLETAS

ONE SHOT

♡ Loving You Is All I Know - @jiminrings

pairing ↠ angel!reader x human!taehyung

SYNOPSIS. You're taehyung's guardian angel and you'd go to hell and back for him — even if you get nothing in return; even if you never receive the love that you give.

GENRE. heavy angst, sad ending, unrequited love, tae gets with someone else, guardian angel!reader x human!taehyung.

Mine To Claim - @jimilter

pairing ↠ alpha!taehyung x omega!reader

SYNOPSIS. You are in love with Taehyung. But he just sees you as the Omega bitch that helps him relieve stress by letting him use her body. With your heat coming up and the pressure on Taehyung to find a Queen increasing exponentially, will your ties with him severe forever? Or will they bloom into something else?

GENRE. smut | angst | fluff | alpha!taehyung | omega!reader | werewolf!au | idiots to lovers!au | fwb!au | jealousy | pining

♡ Playful Dominance - @kth1

pairing ↠ alpha!taehyung x omega!reader

SYNOPSIS. As a werewolf, being separated from your mate is hard. Taehyung is away for a pack hunting trip while you’re back at the pack’s estate. You’re sad, you’re lonely, and you’re horny. What happens when suddenly the moon goddess hits you with an early heat cycle?

GENRE. Smut | 21+ | Werewolf!AU | Angst? | Bratty reader | taehyung gets mad | fights

Holding You Like This - @jimilter

pairing ↠ taehyung x reader

SYNOPSIS. Taehyung didn't anticipate seeing you tonight, least of all with a date by your side, but he guesses it'll be okay because it has been over five years since he last saw you and he has moved on. But the air is far from cleared between you both. So when confrontations start to happen, all of the pain from his past he thought he had overcome makes itself known, unwelcome.

GENRE. angst | smut | humor | estranged lovers!au | club owner!taehyung | journalist!reader | allusions to infidelity | misunderstandings

♡ Let Love Be Enough - @jingabitch

pairing ↠ ex-husband!Taehyung x reader

SYNOPSIS. On the day of your daughter’s wedding, you can’t avoid Taehyung.

GENRE. angst | infidelity | arguing | smut | unprotected sex | use of flashbacks im not sure about | emotional sex | crying during sex

All's Fair - @kimvtae

pairing ↠ boyfriend!taehyung x reader | enemie!jungkook x reader

SYNOPSIS. They say soul mates get their marks on the same day, and you’ve been dating Taehyung for almost four years now, but it isn’t his name that shows up on your wrist. It’s Jeon Jungkook’s, also known as your least favorite person in the world.

GENRE. angst, smut, filthy threesome smut, soulmate!au, college!au

♡ Bitter - @moonnightyoongi

pairing ↠ taehyung x reader

SYNOPSIS. living next to your ex boyfriend and having to listen to him with a new girl every night was annoying - but it’s okay cause you have taehyung.

GENRE. fluff, smut, angst, taehyung isn't the ex boyfriend.

♡ Daisy - @chateautae

pairing ↠ taehyung x reader 

SYNOPSIS. When you became pregnant with kim taehyung’s child at 21, your young lives suddenly derailed for the worst. fulfilling your parental roles early on proved difficult, but five years later, perhaps it was time to give your complicated relationship a second chance; not only for yourselves, but for your baby daughter—daisy.

GENRE. rivals/fuck buddies to lovers!au, accidental pregnancy, young parents!au, the fluffiest fluff, light angst, smut

Saving You - @bebejungkook

pairing ↠ Taehyung x reader

SYNOPSIS. Your very over protective husband finds out you’ve been kidnapped and he was going to take the matters into his own hands.

GENRE. : Yandere au, ceo!taehyung, dilf!Taehyung.

Us, Now -

pairing ↠ Taehyung x Female Reader (sorta)

SYNOPSIS. Teardrops on My Guitar! Taehyung and YN meet, five years later and he wants to know how she is.

GENRE. Smut, Angst, Fluff.

♡ Electra Heart - @kooktrash

pairing ↠ taehyung x reader

SYNOPSIS. just dumped by his cheating ex girlfriend, taehyung seeks help from the campus primadonna to make his ex jealous. y/n is spoiled, mean and filthy rich—everything his ex loathed. what happens when the two form a pretend relationship that leaves their hearts in great turmoil?

GENRE. fake dating. idiots to lovers. smut. angst. mentions of cheating. tae gets cheated on. y/n is filthy rich and can be a bitch.

♡ all you want - @kooktrash

pairing ↠ rich ceo!kth x rich student!reader

SYNOPSIS. in the world of high society finding your future partner took a lot of preparation. kim taehyung is one of the most sought out bachelors and he’s been roped on a blind date with Y/n, a spoiled rich girl not used to being told no. what happens when the two clash?

GENRE. arranged dating/high society

SERIES

Good Girls Go Bad - @jkstompers

pairing ↠ fuckboy!taehyung x preppy!reader

SYNOPSIS. Taehyung helps reader change her image to impress another boy, falling in love in the process.

GENRE. strangers/acquaintances to friends, oc has an identity crisis

One Mistake - @vamours

pairing ↠ idol!taehyung x choreographer!reader

SYNOPSIS. it’s been three years since you and taehyung had started dating. recently, you’ve started to notice changes in taehyung’s behavior towards you. with your four years anniversary only a few weeks away, you’ve come to discover the truth.

GENRE. heavy angst + cheating/infidelity au

INCOMPLETAS

SERIES

Enemy - @btssmutgalore

SLOW UPDATES

pairing ↠ taehyung x reader (some hoseok x reader)

SYNOPSIS. When your friend with benefits Hoseok becomes too busy to keep your thing going, Taehyung volunteers to fill the spot.

GENRE. non-idol!au, fuckboy!tae, fuckboy!hoseok, smut, angst.

True Love - @jjkeverlast

SLOW UPDATES

pairing ↠ taehyung x female reader

SYNOPSIS. in which you're face to face with your ex again after 5 years, because both of your friends start dating each other.

GENRE. our beloved summer au, exes to lovers, romantic comedy.

♡ (re) starting over again - @httpknjoon

pairing ↠ taehyung x reader

SYNOPSIS. Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

GENRE. fluff, angst

♡ Only You - @blue-jade

pairing ↠ taehyung x female reader

SYNOPSIS. falling in love with your best friend can be painful, especially if those feelings aren’t returned. and there is only so much your heart can take before it finally breaks. and when that time comes you must then decide whether you want to continue your friendship, or end it for your own sake.

GENRE.angst, eventual smut, college au, unrequited love au, friends to possible lovers au, fuckboy au, slow burn

tolerate it - @archivedkookie

pairing ↠ husband!taehyung x reader

SYNOPSIS. Taehyung is your husband, and you love him. If only he loved you back; if only he cherished your love and not tolerated it.

GENRE. heavy angst, one-sided love, forced marriage, infidelity, smut

»»————-　♡　————-««

TO BE READ

ONE SHOT

One Night Stand - @sodoyouknowbts

pairing ↠ Taehyung x Reader

SYNOPSIS. A one night stand with Kim Taehyung turns into something you never would’ve expected. 

GENRE. Romance, Drama, Arranged Marriage

[avidbeader]

I was allowed the chance to read a friend's ARC of her debut novel and finished it today. Here's my review and I heartily recommend it for those who like BL and/or pining idiots:

Cross the Line by Lucky Hart My rating: 5 of 5 stars (ARC Review) My favorite things to read tend to run to mystery, action, and suspense, whether in a modern, historical, or fantasy setting. Romance for the sake of romance is not my first choice in picking up a book. But the things my favorite fiction has across genres tend to come down to interesting and compelling characters. "Crossing the Line" has these characters in spades. They leap off the page, vibrant and alive, with a richness of details in their appearances and personalities that will have one nodding, yes, I feel like that or yes, I know someone like that. Having these characters paired with dialogue that flows naturally from one character to the other means that scenes are engaging and keep you in the story. There were plenty of times in the past week where I stayed up past my recommended bedtime to finish just one or two more chapters, or was thinking about where the story might go when I couldn't be reading. Theo and Alec, the main characters, are nicely rounded. They both have things they excel at. They have core personalities that don't waver much as the plot progresses. They have challenges and traumas, but these things neither define the characters nor act as maguffins, only appearing in order to move the plot or cause a conflict. And they are surrounded by other interesting characters in Alec's brothers and friends that enhance the story rather than distract. One of my two wants for this book is to have more women appear on the page rather than just talked about. I can see the attraction of writing the Kings as a boisterous family with four sons and they are all fun characters, but we only get a few glimpses of Mom and mentions of a beloved but deceased grandmother. Yes, Alec being on an NCAA soccer team means being surrounded by other guys, but to not have even one girl among the student population that became a friend feels unlikely. I hope future installments of the series will include a few women with the same kind of loving depth that is shown for the characters here. The plot hinges on feelings, attraction and desire crashing up against friendship and loyalty, and it's delightfully messy just like real life can be. The circumstances in which Alec and Theo keep meeting and then avoiding include decisions, both good and bad, coming from their personality traits and outside circumstances like horrible timing or being in the wrong place. It produces a good balance of emotional exploration with the occasional sitcom-level comedy bit that had me groaning of course that happened. As things move into dangerous waters for our heroes, they take responsibility for one another because they care about each other that much. Even if neither of them has quite figured it out yet, because they are complete pining idiots. My second want for this book, because the characters are so lively, was to have a little more in the denouement department. To read the conversations between a few different characters and the process of some decisions made instead of having them summarized in the epilogue. But that's a testament to how much the characters and story drew me in that I wanted more of them. I finished this book feeling satisfied and entertained. I will read it again. I want to read the next book in the author's planned series. I would recommend it to anyone who likes modern-day romances where you want to reach into the screen and knock the love interests' heads together so they figure it all out or stop keeping their feelings secret. If you're uncertain about smut, there's only three sequences where it's featured and even then the characters are mostly busy talking or feeling things. Take a chance on this one and see if it crosses the line into one of your favorites.