#this took forever to write so seriously please share it

[m00nchildwrites]

Forever, You and Me: Rafayel x MC/Reader Smut

This is a one shot, smut drabble inspired by @jinwoosbabyboo 's answer post describing how the LADS men would react to you storming of and not responding to theirs calls and texts after a bad fight. Her writing is flipping amazing. ISTF I devour everything she writes. 

I was intending to just repost her post with a little response of how I think Rafayel would cope with such an event, and it just... took off and swept me anyway, and well... apparently it's angsty feels and thirsty hours and I blame @jinwoosbabyboo completely for this because her writing always getting my imagination going! So responding to her with my extra thoughts about Rafayel became a one shot, smutty drabble spilled out.  

So here is her post that inspired the one-shot below, so you can read the Rafayel part that got this whole thing going and also, please go read her sections about Xavier, Zayne, and Sylus because you will be missing out if you don't. Seriously, go now.: https://www.tumblr.com/jinwoosbabyboo/763177878569549824/dont-run-off-like-that?source=share 

18+. MDNI! 

TW: angst, cursing, self-depreciation, depression, mention of death or wanting to die, ya boy gets dark and big big sad, hurt/comfort, they def kiss and make up, SMUT, what is foreplay? They just want to bone, couple's first time together, detailed sex depicted, fucking, use of the word fuck a lot, dirty talk, usage of "babygirl", possessive Rafayel (in bed), unprotected sex, mating press, squirting, overstimulation, cum, my own Lemurian bond headcanon, Rafayel has a filthy mouth and MC loves it, cum/breeding kink if you squint. 

*clears throat* 

Enjoy. 

~~~~~~ 

Forever, You and Me 

[ @jinwoosbabyboo prompt: 

You told the LADS Men to not piss you off and what did they do? Pissed you off. How I imagine they would react to you storming off in tears and you're not answering their calls or texts.] 

The moment you spun on your heel and fled his home Rafayel was after you. The angry and uncharacteristic yell of frustration you had given out before doing so, after he failed to back off during your disagreement, turned argument, turned first real fight made his stomach drop and curl in the worst way. Your voice played in his head as he ran out his door and down to the street in front of his house after you. 

Stop! Just... please stop a moment. I hate that we are yelling. This isn't us. This isn't you. This isn't me. Just- Give me a second to breathe for fuck's sake, Rafayel, please! 

His words rang in his head too.  

If you don't want to hear the sound of my voice anymore, if you don't want to be with me anymore, then why don't you just leave. You always end up leaving anyway. 

He never expected you to actually do it. But he had watched as your eyes widened in shock and hurt, and then narrowed. Then you were gone. 

He ran, flinging open the metal gate and stepping onto the sidewalk, eyes desperate, searching for your retreating figure. He had to find you. Apologize. He knew he could be intense sometimes, dramatic occasionally, and that he could push your buttons just to see if you'd leave him. Leave him like the you of your past life had done. Like you had always done. 

But he was a fool. 

That you wasn't this you. That you was dead and gone. And you, you were the same but so different. You were everything and he had gone and fucked it up. Again. 

His head whipped around frantic. Spirits of his ancestors, did you sprint!?!  The pit in his gut swelled and grew. He couldn't see you anywhere. He yanked out his phone dialing your number as he started jogging off down the sidewalk. You couldn't have gotten far. Right? 

The call went to voicemail. He stopped staring blankly at it. You didn't answer. Maybe... Maybe you couldn't get it in time, yeah. That was it. He breaks out into a jog again, and again rings your number. He would find you. Maybe you were at the bus stop? He pushed his legs faster as the voicemail picked up again. 

You weren't at the bus stop. It had just left. Spitting out a stream of curses that made a little old lady whack him with her bag, Rafayel dialed a different number. He pressed the phone to his ear, "Thomas, I need a car.... no, I'm not at home. I am headed to Linkon City. On foot. Thomas, please no more questions, just have the car find me! This is urgent!" 

When the car-Thomas- found him, he was halfway to Linkon, sweating, sticky, gross, and stressed. He sent out a stream of texts asking you where you had gone, why you weren't answering, that he was sorry, begging you to come back, to answer, to curse him, anything. But they all went unanswered. 

As he went to all your known haunts and favorite places, from your work to the grocery store near your place to your apartment where he ran into an unimpressed blonde Hunter partner of yours that looked perpetually in need of a nap and who refused to buzz him into the building, Rafayel's mental and emotional state continued to spiral. His emotions went from apologetic to concern to flat out fear for your safety. Which he had made clear to that blonde partner of yours... he very nearly throttled the ass. Why did he not see how urgent this was? His words had struck Rafayel and made his stomach turn sour. 

"If MC was in danger, I'd be the first to know, after all, I'm her partner." 

His world felt off kilter. Would the blonde be the first to know? Surely not. Surely, it would be him, Rafayel. Your boyfriend of the past few months. You were soulmates. You came together lifetime after lifetime. He always found you. Always could hunt you down. Always. 

Except now. Except this time. Where had you gone? 

If you don't want to hear the sound of my voice anymore, if you don't want to be with me anymore, then why don't you just leave. You always end up leaving anyway. 

You always end up leaving anyway. 

He visibly flinched. He was a fucking idiot. He turned his head to stare blindly out the window, avoiding Thomas' gaze in the rear view mirror. His assistant had given up trying to get answers from him. Instead, he watched in with worry all over his face.  

Rafayel was soaked. It had begun to rain. It was quicky becoming night. He had been calling, texting, and searching for you for hours. He had ran himself to the point of near exhaustion, and nearly gotten the cops called on him at her work when he kept asking Hunter's outside if they had seen you. How embarrassing. For you, not him. He couldn't give a damn as long as he found you, but you... you clearly didn’t want him to find you. 

You were gone. He had told you to leave if you didn't want him and you had gone. 

He felt numb as the car stopped at last in front of his gate. The car hesitated, Thomas no doubt watching him in concern as he drug his feet passed his gate. Rafayel didn't care. He had pushed you away. Lost you. And it was all his fault. And for what? 

The argument had been so stupid. He walked in, not bothering to shut the door. Clothes dripping, leaving pools on the floor as he walked through his home. He passed the dining room that still had your wine glasses and the open bottle and desserts out. He grabbed the open bottle as he moved deeper into the house.  

He kicked off his shoes, leaving a trail headed to his living room. The flowers he had bought you sat on a vase on the coffee table. He stared it down as he plopped, wet, onto his couch. How had such a good night turned so sour? Why did he have to push at your buttons sometimes? Was it just to see? Just to see if you'd leave him? 

You always end up leaving anyway. 

His stomach felt sick. He chugged from the open bottle. Why would he do that? You didn't deserve it. Was he that fucked up from his past that he had to take it out on you? Why couldn't he let go of what had happened in your lives before this one? You were not like him. You didn't remember everything. No wonder you left. 

He tsked, and not for the first time, wondered if your "curse" to not remember your past lives was really a curse at all. After all, if he couldn't remember, then he wouldn't treat you as though you were going to leave at any moment. Because you had never given him any indication that you planned to. 

The past few months of your relationship, that you two were "official", had been perfection. Sure, you had little spat and sometimes would snap at each other, but there had been so much love. He swallowed a lump in his throat. Love. 

He had not even gotten the chance to tell you. 

He had been waiting- waiting for the perfect moment. He was going to tell you tonight. It was why he had gone the extra step to make lunch that much more romantic. It was why a meat and cheese board and fresh fruit were waiting in his fridge for later that night. He hadn't planned on either of you leaving until morning, if then. It was the reason for the flowers before him, the flower petals in the no doubt cold tub upstairs, the petals spread across his bed. Tonight was going to be the night. The one where he told you that you were the love of his life, of all of his lives. He was going to explain what that meant to a Lemurian- how binding and forever that was. And should you accept, he had planned to ask you to- 

He winced, eyes squeezing shut as his chest flared in pain. In protest. His hand not holding the bottle, now empty, clutched at his chest. A hiss of pain. The pain passed. Rafeyel dropped the bottle onto the coffee table before his eyes landed on the vase. He knocked the flowers over, sending the vase off the other side of the coffee table, glass shattering and water spilling with flowers and petals across the floor. 

It didn't matter what he was going to ask you. You were gone. His eyes blurred, hot, as tears formed on his lashes. He pulled his knees up to his chest. His shoulders shook.  

You were gone. 

~~~~~ 

Your feet tripped as you hurried down the sidewalk, dodging puddles as you went. You did not mean for time to get away from you. When you ran out of Rafayel's earlier, you had only meant to get some fresh air for a short while as you calmed down. You both had ended up yelling earlier and it had felt so wrong. Wrong because it wasn't like either of you.  

Yes, you had had disagreements. Rafayel hated when you put yourself in unnecessary danger, though he respected you and your skills at work, even you had to admit that he wasn't wrong when he said you took risks. You didn't mean to. It never was your plan, but something went down and you just sprang into action. He had been right, you had partner's in the association for a reason. But it was the way he had said it today, like you were doing it on purpose just to spite him. As though you enjoyed stressing him and making him worry, it had just set you off. You had told him off, and things had spiraled. 

And for what? He wasn't even wrong. It just rankled your feathers today because of something some dumb Jock head at work had said about women Hunter's needing to be paired with a male Hunter since they were the weaker sex. The dude was written up on the spot; the idiot had said it in front of everyone including your very female boss- moron. But still, you hated being looked down on.  

And so, you had taken out that frustration on Rafayel. On your sweet, silly, bratty, but absolutely adoring Rafayel. You had seen how your words had hurt him. When you had said that you didn't need him or any man worrying or looking after you. You had seen the flinch as though you had slapped him as you flung his worry and concern back into his face as though it revolted you. 

You had hurt him. And then realized that you both were yelling, and it was all just too much. You felt like you couldn't breathe. It hadn't felt like you. Like him. So, when you asked for a moment to allow your mind to settle and clear so you could think rationally and he just kept on, you snapped. He offered you an out, and you took it the offer and walked out. 

You walked out knowing his fear of abandonment. You knew and still walked out without looking back. You walked and walked along the shore. Then it started to rain, and you had to find shelter. And to top it off, you hadn't realized your phone was dead until you were stuck miles down the beach, in the rain, hiding out under a pier, and realized you had to now walk all the way back. Why had you gone to the beach instead of your home? 

You sighed, spotting Rafayel's house in the distance at last. Of course. Of course, you knew why. Because the beach reminded you of your Lemurian, your Rafayel. Even when you were mad at him, you longed for him. Sought out his essence for comfort. Gods, you loved him so much. So much and you never said it out loud yet. You had to tell him. 

You picked up the pace and jogging up to his gate. Nearing his door, you saw it open, but thought nothing of it. Rafayel often left it open for you or from distraction as a bolt of inspiration hit him. The house looked dark from the entryway. You called out his name as you toed off your sandy shoes and socks. 

You gasped as you stepped and nearly slipped in a large, cold puddle. A trail of puddles large and smaller led inside. You tucked a damp strand of hair behind your ear, and cautiously made your way inside. 

"Rafayel? Are you home?" "Rafayel?" "Ugh, why is it so dark in here? Stupid dead phone. I need a light." 

You stumbled into the dining room and followed the wall to the kitchen. You flicked a switch and squinted at the sudden change in brightness. His whole studio was empty and dark. The light from the kitchen spilling out into his painting area across the large room and into the living room area. 

Your eyes squinted, focusing. There was a lump on the couch. "Rafayel?" You near him and see the wine bottle on the coffee table nearby and broken glass and flowers scattered around. You step carefully to not get a shard of glass in your foot as you move around the room to him. 

"Rafayel? I'm sorry it's late. I didn't mean to be gone for so long, but I went further than I meant to and then my phone died..." You trailed off as he came fully into view. He sat on his couch, cheeks wet with tears, clutching his chest. 

You understood all at once why he grabbed that spot, and your heart lurches and drops. You kneeled next to him carefully, "Rafayel?" 

When you call out to him, he let out a choked sob of a tortured laugh.  

You lean, moving to place your face into his line of sight. He sits frozen, staring daze out of open windows. "Rafe?" 

His voice sounded hollow, "Go away." You heart dropped until his voice continues, "You are a specter. MC is gone. She left. Left me." His voice cracked, more tears spill over his lash line to trail down porcelain cheeks. His voice a near whisper, "I've lost you. I love you. I love you more than my homeland, my people. More than my very life. I have loved you through countless lifetimes and will through countless more." He clenched his eyes as he clenched his chest, "I love you enough to let you go if that's what you wish. I'd give it all for you. My last breath. So, please, leave. Don't haunt my mind like you've haunted my heart these last 800 years. You're gone. At last, you've chosen and it isn't me. Leave me to my heartbreak in peace. Leave me to fade into seafoam at last." 

A sob hiccupped past your lips. How could you have hurt him so? This beautiful man with such a beautiful heart and soul. You reached out to brush your fingers across his cheeks, fingers combing into lavender curls as you cup his cheeks, begging, imploring him to see you.  

His eyes shut, agony on his face. 

"I am here, Rafayel. I'm real." 

A choked sob fell from his lips. 

"Look at me." 

A shake of his head. If he does, you'll disappear. Slip through his fingers like mist. He wants to stay in his illusion just a while longer. Hear your voice just a while longer before he has to spend eternity without you, or at least, eternity until he fades away back into sea foam like so many of his people before. 

"Rafayel, my love, please look at me." 

Violet eyes opened, hesitant and sorrowful. 

You smiled, soft, full of love, thumbs wiping stray tears. "I am here. I'm sorry I got so mad earlier. It wasn't even about you; It was a long shitty day, and that's no excuse. You didn't deserve for me to react like that to what you were saying. And I'm sorry I ran. I hated that I was so upset and I couldn’t calm down, so I just need to step away, but- I hurt you. I hurt you so badly, and I never ever meant to. That's the last thing I want because I-" Your voice cracked, a lump of emotion in your throat. Your eyes fell, ashamed. "I just- gods, Rafayel, I love you so much it makes me feel crazy sometimes. I- I'm sorry this is not how I imagined telling you this." You started to pull away. 

Large, long fingered hands gripped your shoulders. "Say it again." 

You blinked, confused by the urgency in his voice as he searched your face. 

"Please. Please say it again or I will be convinced I imagined it." 

You studied his eyes. Firmly in his grip, your brows furrowed until it clicked. Your tension left you. Your hands rose once more to cup his face. A soft smile spread across yours as his cheeks pinken under your touch. "I love you, Rafayel. With all my hea-" 

You were jerked forward into his chest. His lips crashed onto yours. His hands were desperate as they clung to your back, crushing you closer, impossibly closer, as though he needed your very beings to blur into one. His tongue swiped at your lips, hot and wet, begging entry. Demanding it. 

You gasped from the intensity of his kiss. His passion poured forth like an unending wall of water bursting from a dam. His tongue danced along yours, caressing, tasting. Hungry and needy. Warm velvet and tasting of the wine you both had been drinking before your argument hours before. 

Your hands found his shoulders, trying to ground yourself or be swept away. You accidentally slipped out a sound. A needy sound of passion. His answering moan as he angled his head to kiss you deeper made a pleasant shiver run down your spine to pool between your legs. 

In a flash, his hands gripped your thighs, tugging you into his lap as he stood. 

You broke the kiss with a gasp, hands scrambling to hold on. Arms wrapping around his neck as his head ducked, his lips covering your neck in messy, hot, open mouthed kisses. 

"Wh-what? Where are you taking me?" 

His voice was a husky grumble from somewhere deep in his chest, as he licked and nipped at your throat. "I'm taking you to bed, my Heart." 

Next thing you knew, your back was falling onto cream silken sheets.  

He stood between your parted knees hanging over the edge of the bed. His violet eyes raked over your face hungrily. His lips were parted, chest rising and falling as he panted for breath. He didn't move, tongue peaking out to wet his lips. He was breathtaking. He was passion personified, hair mussed from your fingers, lips damp and red swollen from your kisses.  

His voice and the look in his eyes made your insides clench as he reached out, hand on your knee, thumb brushing the inside just so, "If you want me to stop... if you dont want this or..." his thumb stopped, he face flinched, eye closing briefly as though from pain, before opening to peer into your eyes. "If you are unsure of this, of us, of me, tell me now, because once we do this, once we... you will be mine, and I will be yours. It can't be undone. For Lemurians, this is for life, for all time. A soul bond. It's more than any mortal human tradition. More than marriage. It's unbreakable, unending, forever you'd be mine and I'd be yours. If you are unsure-" 

You sat up, going onto your knees atop the bed before him. Your palms rested on his shoulders, "Rafayel..." your hands slid down to his chest. "I- " Your hand stopped at the place on his chest were your mark laid, though the red fish wasn't visible now. Your eyes flicked to his, "I want this." Your hands were on the move again smoothing lower down his chest. "I want this bond. I-" Your hands found the bottom of his shirt, fingertips dancing along the hem before slipping under.  

He gasped, stomach muscles clenching beneath your touch as your hands found his taunt skin beneath.  

"I want forever. I want you." Your hands trailed up the plains of his chest, bringing his shirt with you. Until at last, you griped it in your hands, eyes meeting his in askance.  

His lashes fluttered, eyes falling half-mast. He was breathtaking. His arms rose, allowing you to lift the shirt from his body before flinging the offending material away. 

Your hands fell back to his shoulders, one sliding to cup his neck as you rose to meet him, chest pressing to his. His gaze turned molten, lust heavy and full of love as he looked over your face. His hands came to rest, just so at your waist, still hesitant but hopeful.  

Resolved, you pushed away your nerves, pulling his head down. Breath mingling with his, you gave him what he wanted. What he needed, "I love you. I chose you, Rafayel. Forever and always. Forever, you and me." 

His lips crashed into yours like waves upon a storm wall. He laid you down in a sea of silk and white rose petals.  

You snatched one, lifting it between you with a raise eyebrow.  

He flushed beautifully, "I had plans for us tonight." 

You dropped the petal, fingers weaving through his silken waves. "Show me." 

Clothes flew to land forgotten on the floor. Breaths panted; needy sounds filled the air, carried away through the open balcony windows and out to the sea. His hands and lips mapped you like you were a precious treasure. His lips and tongue worshipped you, swiping the salt from your skin. His breath was hot in your ear as he- at last- slotted his hips between your parted thighs.  

"My Heart, my Queen, my love," fell from his lips like a mantra.  

You felt him there, this mushroomed tip parting your lower lips, dragging the pooled wetness and spreading it. You gasped, nails digging into his shoulders. 

He groaned, head falling to nuzzle your neck. Still, he froze, going no further. He panted, asking, "Are you sure?" 

You cupped his face, dragging his eyes up to yours, "Rafayel, I have never been more sure of anything in my life. Take me. I am yours." You ran your fingers along his cheek, repeating his words from before, "A soul bond. unbreakable, unending, forever. This is what I chose. It's you, Rafayel. It's always been you." You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, causing his hips to drop. You gasped. His tip slipped into your molten heat just so. 

His head fell back, long pale neck exposed. He bit his lip. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. When his gaze fell back to you, his eyes were dark, like the ocean in a storm.  

Your walls clenched.  

His eyes squeezed shut, a moan falling from his lips, a curse followed. His gaze, heavy and passionate, were back on yours, his arms shaking, "So be it. My Heart, my Queen, my love," his mouth would curl slightly into a playful smirk, "my bride." His hips snapped forward, his full hard length pushing into your gummy walls to full hilt, his pelvis slapping hard into your fleshy cheeks. You could feel him, his tip kissing your cervix. A moan fell from your lips; a hiss of pleasure from his. He stilled buried fully inside you, muscles trembling with the strain. His jaw clenched as he fought for control, "Fuck, love, you feel so good." 

Your hands scrambled for purchase on his shoulders, as he rocked his hips dragging almost all the way out only to snap his hips back, slamming back in. Your nail dug into his back. A babble of praise fell from your lips, "So good. So good, Rafayel. So full." 

He groaned head dropping to your collarbone, "Fuck, love, I can feel you sucking me in." He hissed, "so tight. Like you were made just for me, yeah?" His hips pulled back, dragging his length along your walls until just the tip remained. He leaned up, brushing your hair from your face to cradle your head in one hand, the other braced him on the bed near your head. "Look at me. I want to watch you as I make you mine." 

When your eyes fund his, his face softened a moment. His eyes sweeping over your face in awe before meeting and holding your gaze, he whispered a breathy, "I love you." His eyes darkened with heat again, and he snapped his hips to crash back into yours. He swallowed your answering moan with a bruising kiss, drinking you in, as his hip set a brutal rhythm.  

You clung to him, hips eagerly tilting and undulating to meet his as he pounded you into the sheets. The headboard slammed repeatedly into the wall. You shifted up slightly each powerful thrust. His hands grabbed yours bringing them to wrap around his shoulders, "Brace yourself against me, my love. Fuck! I'm going to ruin you. Ruin you for all others! MC, you are perfect. And you are mine." He melded his lips to yours, tongue moving along yours gently and loving. A sharp contrast to how he was fucking you into his bed. His thrusts were hard and deep, rolling into you like waves. The sound of slapping skin filled the air.  

You gasped, moaned, pleaded as he made your head spin with pleasure, "Yes! Yes, Rafayel! I am yours! Make me yours!" 

The sound that rumbled from his chest was a near growl as he leaned up to grip the headboard with one hand for leverage, his hips doubled in speed. His abs rolled as he kept one hand braced above your shoulder, locking you in place as he repeatedly slammed his cock as deep into as he could get. 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you clung to his arms. Your legs went limp around his waist as pleasure boiled inside you, hot and heavy. Your head thrashed from side to side from the intensity of the waves of sharp pleasure swelling inside you. Your walls began fluttering, clenching, wrapping at his hard length as he pummeled your insides. His tip kissed your cervix with each thrust, giving a burst of the slightest pain-pleasure. You could feel the wetness of you gushing out passed his shaft as it pounded in and out of your tight channel, every ridge of him dragging along your walls in the best way. You were not going to last long. No one, not even yourself had ever gotten you this wet and close to orgasm as Rafayel was doing. It was as though he knew exactly how to make your body sing for him. 

He shifted. The angle changed and you gasped, clinging, clawing, nails digging as his tip bullied into your g-spot with every snap of his hips.  

"Fu-fuck baby!" You wailed, "God's, Rafayel, right there, baby. Please don't stop. Don't stop!" 

His response was a snarl in your ear as his hips snapped into that spot in double time. "Never. I'll never stop. Never stop making love to you, my love. My bride." He kissed you deeply as your walls started spasming. Your climax was close. A hand of his dropped from your neck to slip between you to where you are joined. His fingertips finding the pearl above where he slides into you. The pad of his finger swirling, circling and pressing your clit just right. 

You moaned, head thrown back, "Yess!" 

He covered your neck in love marks, branding you as his. His lips moved to your ear, nipping at the skin right below it, "Are you gonna come for me, my love? Are you gonna come all over my cock like a good girl. Be good bride, hm, come for me," his voice was pure sin in your ear. 

You could only whimper and cling to him, desperate.  

"Answer me. Tell me who you belong to. Say it. I want the people down the beach to hear you scream it. To hear whose cock makes you feel this good. Say it. Say who you belong to." 

You sputtered and gasped out sobs, in capable of words as you race towards your end. 

He took your hips in his hands. He leaned back on his knees. He rose your hips off the bed. His hips slamming into you, hard and fast- almost inhumanly so. The plop, plop, plop of his sack as it slaps against the sticky mess of your cheeks filled the room. He groaned, "Fuck, baby. You feel so good for me. I fucking love you, MC. Fuck, I love you." 

The coil within you snapped and pulses of white hot heat sent tremors, shockwave through your body as your core clamped down on his shaft. Your head fell back as you screamed out his name in the height of your passion, in reverence, "Rafayel!" You sobbed. Actual tears escaped as the white hot waves of orgasm mixed with love for him kept coming.  

His hips never stopped slamming his hard cock into you, bruising your g-spot and cervix. It was heaven. It was bliss. It was so much. It was almost too much. You tensed nearly about to say stop when a sensation you had never felt before hit you like a brick. Your core tightened, abs clenching, your very womb felt like it clenched, your walls clamped tight down around him, almost stopping his movement completely. Then the spasms, ripples of pleasure pulsed from your womb down your walls, massaging, milking, clenching his shaft inside you. You vaguely hear him hiss and a debauched, "Fuck," escape his lips. And  then you feel a gush of warm liquid splash out of you and all over his dick and pelvis. 

Rafayel's violet gaze widened, his grip tightening almost painfully into the fleshy meat of your hips as he held you against him. His head fell back and he moaned, fully wrecked. "Fuck! Babygirl, you just squirted for me." 

Your core clenched at his words even as high sensitivity began to creep in, but he felt so good. So good and hard inside you. You could tell he wasn't too far off. Just the thought of it turned you back on. You desperately wanted to see him lose himself to orgasm. And he was so fucking beautiful as he began rolling his hips into yours again. 

You must've said that last part out loud, because he looked back down at you, lip caught between his teeth before he released it, plump and full. You wanted to bite it. A smirk was on his face, "Yeah? Is that so, babygirl?" His eyes darkened as his hips picked up speed, rolling more into you, faster as he spoke, "You know what's beautiful? You. You splayed out on my bed, looking fucked out, covered in your cum, face flushed as I. Fuck. You." He punctuated his words with a hard thrust, fingers digging into your hips deliciously. 

You gasped, walls clenching again as he steadily fucked you into another crest. His face fell into a grimace, as your walls, overstimulated into another quickly growing orgasm, clenched and released and clenched his shaft as he began to thrust into you with wild abandon, "Fuck, babygirl, I can feel you clenching me, yeah? You love the feel of this dick pounding you, don't you? So. Fucking. Beautiful. And. All. Mine." 

His mouth was filthy. Filthy and hot. You had never heard Rafayel speak in such a way. Rafayel who was often bashful and blushing when your flirting. Rafayel who tended to be a pouty needy boy that made your heart melt. This Rafayel was just as needy. But in a way you had never seen him before, as he panted your name from his lips like a mantra. His gorgeous head tossed back, neck exposed, abs clenching and rolling his hips as he slammed into you, face flushed and skin covered in a sheen of sweat. He was breathtaking. He was yours. You wanted him to come, and come for you now. 

Your hands scrambled to the headboard above you, bracing against it in determination. You started to roll your hips into his, meeting each powerful thrust with as much force as he was giving you. You were gonna come again but this time, this time, you were taking him with you. 

He gasped, fingers digging into your fleshy hips. His eyes snapped down to you, seeing the heat in your eyes as they raked over his body, your lip caught between your teeth. He groaned at the sight and at the feel of your hips moving in rhythm with his. "F-fuck, my love, I'm gonna come. Where do you- where should I-?" His voice is completely fucked out. Almost drunk. 

You tugged his arm and he fell back over you, compliant to your every whim, your knees swept up to rest over his arms as he braced himself with them framing your waist. Your legs were trapped pressed up and apart, unable to move as freely, to roll as deeply with your knees hooked over his forearms like this. But oh. You saw stars and he moaned in your ear. At this angle, with you opened wide, it felt like he went deeper. You both gasped out moans. Your lips brushed his ear as you told him your deepest want right then, "Inside. I want you inside me. Please, Rafayel. I want to feel all of you. Fill me up." 

He groaned, a pained sound before driving into you in earnest, "I am gonna come. I cant- I can't hold on much more." 

Your walls fluttered at the needy sound of his voice. Your Rafayel. Your beautiful Rafayel. He was so like the ocean, so many faucets to his personality. He could be calm loving one moment then demanding and passionate and then needy the next. You loved him. You loved all of him and he was all yours. 

"I'm coming too, baby. Let go" you implored him, "I want it. I am yours and you are mine. Forever. I want all of you. Give it to me." 

With a few more slams of his cock into your depths, you felt the moment he lost control of it. His forehead pressed to yours, noses brushing, as he let out a long moan of pleasure mixed with your name. His shaft pulsed as rope after rope of hot cum filled your womb. His blissed out face, the grind of his pelvis into your clit, the twitching of his cock as he came inside, and the warmth that flooded your inner most parts triggered your orgasm. 

"F-fuck!" He hissed out, blissfully as your walls milked him further. His thrust slowed until it was just a slow drag. His breath, panted by your ear. He peppered your neck and shoulder with kisses, before pulling back to press his lips lovingly against yours. When he pulled away, you noticed his eyes were nearly glowing blue as the Mediterranean sea, a spackling of blue iridescent scales freckled down his throat to his chest.  

Your fingertips followed the trail as his hips finally rested, fully seat against yours, spent, but refusing to leave your warmth. You could feel the hot mix of both of your fluids spilling out around where his now soft member still rested within your walls. Your eyes flicked up to his, watching you full of love. Your gut twisted in guilt, remembering what got you here. "I am sorry I ran out. I was so angry. I so angry, and it hurt to be so angry at you. I felt overwhelmed. I just... I needed space. To breathe. To calm down so I could think." 

He tutted, fingers combing some of your messy hair from your face. "Hush now, my bride. It is okay now. You came back to me. We are together. We are one now. That is all that matters." His eyes trailed your face before a sheepish look fell over his expression, "Besides, it was my fault you got overwhelmed. I kept pushing and pushing even when you said you needed to think. I was terrified that I was losing you so I couldn't bring myself to give you a moment." His eyes met yours, "I am sorry." 

You hummed, "Still I shouldn't have ran from you. I know about our pasts and I know that me leaving is something you fear. It was cruel of me," your heart lunched at the flicker of pain in his gaze. 

"Very well, though, I must admit I feel guilty for making you feel like what happened in those past lives is your responsibility. They both were and were not you. That's not your burden to carry." 

It was your turn to tsk, "I love you. Your burdens are my burdens. It's you and me, forever, Rafayel. You don't have to carry everything alone. Not anymore. Never again." 

His eyes went soft, as he dipped his head to press a kiss to your lips, "Whatever you say, my bride." 

You nuzzled into his palm cupping your cheek, "I do say. How about we both agree we are both idiots in love and leave it at that?" 

His chuckling at that shook you slightly. As your bodies were still pressed together, it shifted his shaft slightly inside of you. You realized that it was not all that soft anymore, and that he never left your heat. Your breath caught in your throat. Your walls fluttered around him. 

He hissed, head snapping up to meet your gaze. His eyes mischievous, "You want more of your Fishy husband, hm?" His hips gently pulsed, in and out of your heat slowly, testing the waters, a smirk stretching his mouth as you gasped from pleasure. 

Your eyes widen at his words. He had been calling you his bride. And now calling himself your husband. 

Seeing your look, he stilled and became worried, brows furrowing slightly. A blush spread across his cheeks and down his chest as his face becomes more pouty than the heat it held before, "I did say that to Lemurians this was essentially more binding than any silly human marriage." 

"You didn't say it quite like that!" You reeled dazed, your mind racing. 

His face crumpled before he smoothed his expression to one of more indifference. He plucked a shoulder in a shrug and rolled off of you, making you hiss as he slid out of you for the first time since you joined. 

He flopped onto his back a short distance away, "I apologize. I guess I should've been more clear. It's okay though. You won't feel the effects. We can pretend we didn't-" he gasped as you appeared over him and on him, having thrown your leg over his hip. You pressed him to the bed with a hand to his chest, your legs caging his hips between your thighs. "Nnngh," he groaned as you lowered your hips to sit over his pelvis, his once again harden length pressed between your nether lips, soaked in both of your juices from before. He had to fight not to roll his hips up into you, but settled for gripping your hips firmly. 

You sighed, hands moving, fingers dancing across the pale skin of his chest, from freckle to scale. "I never said I didn't want it." 

He stilled, eyes studying you intently. Holding his breath even. 

"I do want it. Want you. I told you, Rafayel, it's you and me. Forever." 

His grip lightened. His thumbs brushed tenderly across your skin. 

Your eyes sought out his, warm and tender. "So, husband," you grinned as his breath caught in his throat. "How do Lemurians enjoy their honeymoon?" You swiveled your hips to drag your wet heat along his now very hard again shaft. 

He gripped your hips, smirk nearly feral, "Let me show you, my Bride." 

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

*pulls the 45 cents I have to my name out of my pocket and drops them on your table*

I can't believe my name will be forever attached to this but one (1) Kenjaku solo session with Heianera!YN portrait, please

❝ life and death will always lead to love and regret (but you have the answers, and I have the key) ❞

Kenjaku x Heain Era!ftm!reader [one-sided] | Heian Era!ftm!reader x Sukuna Ryomen | r! is a curse-user & sukuna ryomen's concubine, NSFW | sub. bottom. reader (AFAB) | NOT PROOFREAD | wc: 4.1K

warnings: creepy/stalker behaviour, Kenjaku is a 'passive'-yandere (in the sense that Sukuna would and will kill him if he tried anything), manipulative behaviour, gore (detailed), Kenjaku jerking off in front of a portrait of r!, very unrequited

authors note: don't be ashamed, Gabriel. I got way too excited writing this and I think that speaks volumes on how I need to get checked, LMAO. On another note - yes, my YN's will always have a harem of men in the JJK-verse because that's what YN (and you, my dear reader) deserve!

I wrote this partially on my phone so bear with me guys...

*song on repeat: Bernadette by IAMX & Rule #34 by Fish in a Birdcage. * YN is described as having long hair because of the heian beauty standard (hair colour and texture not mentioned).

People often compared the years they lived as sand. The hourglass holding it is comparable to the human body. He often thought that metaphor was weak. People — humans — were not hourglasses and their years were not sand. No, no. That’s far too neat for humans.

Humans are messy. They are loud, and chaotic, they defy nature's rules and destroy her for the sake of progress. They had no balance, their compass broke when the synapses in their brains sparked conscious thought.

In that chaos, humans made curses. Or, well, you could argue it who came first but without humans and their silly consciousness — cursed spirits wouldn’t thrive.

People are flesh left under the sun. With their blood drying out, flies and maggots eagerly feast on what they can while the meat greys and rots. That’s a much more appropriate metaphor for a human life. If anything, the hourglass comparison should be used for himself. Constantly turning it over to keep going; uncaring of what kept the sands in confinement so long as it could continue its path.

Down, almost empty, flip, repeat.

Kenjaku had perfected his cursed techniques. He had earned this, he had earned his right to let his curiosities run rampant. He had earned the right to be in the presence of Sukuna Ryomen and you.

“Yuuji, you still owe me for eating my yoghurt from the fridge. It was expensive and it took so long for me to find it!” Nobara huffed. “You might as well just buy some for yourself. I’m labelling my food now.”

Megumi glanced over his shoulder at the lack of reply from the pink-haired boy. Nobara stopping next to him with her brows furrowed, sighing as she looks around for him.

“...I was just talking to myself? Seriously?” she grumbled. Megumi adjusts his grip on the bags. The grocery trips were a good team-building exercise according to Yuuji, a way to get to know each other better. Megumi and Nobara agreed after a particularly harsh mission that aimed directly at their novice team fighting experience.

So far, the results that were yielded from it were found that Nobara had an aversion to pineapples, Megumi had expensive tastes, and Yuuji was very good at budgeting money.

“No, he was right beside you a few minutes ago,” Megumi reached for his phone. Nobara placed her hands on her hips, tilting her head as she continued to scan the crowd.

A gaggle of businessmen came out from the underground train station and between the crowd of slicked-back hair, desperate combovers, and sweaty bald heads, she spotted him.

Tugging on Megumi’s sleeve, she pointed to him. Yuuji was standing and staring up at some sort of vertical banner. As they both approached, they shared a glance.

“Oi, Itadori,” Nobara placed a hand on his shoulder. Smacked it really. He didn’t budge. There was a dullness to his eyes that unnerved her enough to remove her hand. Megumi tightened his grip on his phone as he called out to him again. She took a look at the banner and her brows furrowed.

It was promoting an opening of someone’s private gallery. Some rich kid’s great-great-grandfather’s collection. The painting they used was of a true beauty. A man with long hair, dressed in the finest robes with a serene barely-there smile. It looked to be more European in nature, the art reminding her of the portraits of giant frilly dresses and puffy shoulder sleeves despite the obviously Japanese clothing, accessory, and manner in which the subject was regaled in the painting.

The banner must have costed a pretty penny considering how much detail they could see. Megumi could practically feel the raised textures the artist had used to mimic the pattern of the traditional robe the man wore. The flow of his hair, the texture and pattern it had; and his lashes were surely not that long in reality.

Megumi tore his gaze to Yuuji.

It was like he was in a trance. His mouth was slightly ajar, his brows furrowed and his hands shaking as his knuckles turned white.

“Itadori?”

Yuuji had long forgotten this. This ache in his chest that he sometimes woke up with. When he reaches for the empty space next to him and finds no one. Those moments in the basement when he watches a historical movie and his chest tightens as the nobles courted one another.

“Do you know the painter or something?” Nobara asks.

No, he wants to say. Not the painter. If he knew who it was that did this portrait, he’d tear their heads off their body. But the man? He knew him.

That hellish grin, that perfect face and most importantly those nightmarish eyes.

You’ve seen dolls, right? Those porcelain ones specifically. The craftsmen who make them, the expensive ones with real human hair. To be left on shelves instead of being played with. They would draw these white dots on the eyes, varnish them even, so their eyes would reflect back. A mimicry of humans, that’s what dolls are. But even then, their eyes still twinkled. Not this man. No. It was devoid of light. Pools of (eye colour) and nothing more. These eyes would swallow up any trace of light and diminish the stars from the sky with just a glance.

Yuuji knew him. His soul knew him. His hand clutches over his heart and his friends watch this with trepidation.

It’s been 2,000 years. Sukuna was no longer human and therefore his memory was not as fickle. He still remembers those moments before dawn; the sight of your bare torso breathing softly as you rested next to him. The sun filtering through the windows and making you appear even more ethereal and deadly. How your brows would pinch seconds before you woke. Those soulless eyes that shot through his very soul.

Sukuna could recognize you even if he was blind. He’d be able to hear you just by feeling your chest rumble. If he had to eat one thing for the rest of his life, your body and flesh would sustain him.

In his Malovent Shrine, whilst he sat on his throne, he’d summon his flames in his palm. There he’d watch as your figure danced across his hand. You’d twirl between his digits, a smile across your face as he watches the imitation of you.

It used to be enough. Lately, the action brings him more contempt then fondness. The flames never quite catch your shape anymore. Constantly shifting. That coyness is gone, mini-you petulantly staying hidden behind his fingers. So he snuffs you out in his fists.

He hates you for making him miss you. A King should not be missing anyone or anything. Yet, as his vessel stands here, Sukuna teeters on the edge of breaking the Unbreakable Vow he’d made with the brat just to gaze upon you.

The painter got your resemblance and it was agony for him.

How could he continue to be without you when he’s seen you again? Days ago, he wanted to kill you for making him delirious and now he wants you back in his arms.

“Itadori.” Megumi’s tone is firmer. Nobara smacks his shoulder again and Yuuji jolts forward, nearly falling until his rigid legs quickly come back to life.

“Huh?”

“Are you alright?” Megumi asks, his thumb hovering over the DIAL button of Gojo Satoru’s number. Yuuji glances at his wrinkled shirt and releases it, confusion painted across his face at the fading pain across his chest.

“I...yeah, yeah. I'm okay. I have no idea what that was....”

Rich bodies made life significantly easier.

What was that saying humans used?

Money can’t buy happiness?

Kenjaku chuckles at the thought. Foolish and vain — typical of humans. Clinging onto whatever they can to convince their egos they’re better than most when they’ll all meet the same fate. Kenjaku forgets the exact point where he stopped seeing himself as one of them, but he’s sure anyone would if you’ve lived as long as him. Apathy. Most call it a disease of selfishness. Kenjaku simply thinks they’re lying to themselves.

“Mr Geto?” the gallery was a lucrative endeavour. A piece in his grand scheme that required little effort but great rewards. More personal gain on his end.

“Mr Hajimoto mentioned you specifically in his will. The private room is all yours. Thank you so much for your donation to this fine institution of arts.” Kenjaku offers the man a polite smile and nod. The awkward silence prompts them to open the large doors and Kenjaku is greeted by you.

(Y/N) (L/N). In all your glory. In his favourite colours and his favourite kanza. The bespoke lighting on your portrait makes his hands fall limply to his side. You were a brushstroke away from taking a breath. The colours used to recreate that undertone your skin had, the delicate curves of your lashes and the plumpness of your lip.

The two guards in the corner of the room are a nuisance. But with a simple twirl of his right hand, the Slit-Mouthed Woman makes quick work of them. This curse technique was truly convenient, the mess she made cleaned up by a different curse who laps at the blood with vigor. The noises are all muffled as he admires those vicious eyes.

Just saying your name makes warmth travel down between his legs.

“I’ve almost forgotten how you look like.”

Silence ticks by for a minute.

Then Kenjaku bursts into laughter. Clutching his stomach and covering his mouth as he does. He can still smell your blood. Even if Suguru’s body had never had the pleasure of touching you — Kenjaku remembers it.

The way it flowed out of you like silk ribbons. Warm and wet and virile.

“You are an unusual sorcerer,” those were the first words you said to him. He knows you meant that in a derisive fashion — the curl of your nose was a clear indicator. But that was the day a feverish need was planted inside of his very soul.

You. You. You.

The shape of your face.

The cadence of your voice.

The way the wind carried your scent to his nose.

The sound of your cat-like foot-steps.

The effortless way you carried yourself despite the heavy robes that a revered concubine of your rank would wear, along with the golden hair accessories that would probably break a lesser man's neck.

It didn't stop there either.

Your brain, the wickedness that ran through your very veins and that fire that burns within you. Kenjaku wanted to be inside of you in every he could fathom. To sit within that perfectly shaped skull, to thread his fingers between the locks of your hair and take a scalpel to that skin he so craves to taste. Or perhaps inside in the traditional sense, between your legs, embraced by your warm insides and your deadly arms.

Kenjaku ponders on the time he has. He decides that he should indulge in you. He undoes the robes this body wore and sighs as it reveals the torso. Bodies were all the same but he does appreciate the care Geto Suguru took into his temple — there was no need for shame when he's already desecrated this corpse so viscerally already. His hands travel down his torso and that pronounce v-line and past the patch of wiry pubic hair.

You make him feel young again. Reckless and stubborn. Your eyes watch him as he leisurely spits into his palm and strokes it over the tip.

Evil is such a lame word. So primitive in its nature, another one of human's attempts at letting go of responsibility. If something or someone were evil, they were inherently irredeemable. Humans used to call snakes evil simply for doing what a snake would do when hungry, instead of realising they shouldn't have left the door to their huts opened and their sleeping brat asleep.

Was something evil when it simply did what it was meant to do?

They were simply following natures course.

This act Kenjaku is doing now, is not perverted or evil, he is simply being. Simply living, existing, relishing.

If anything, you were the undoing. The evil. You've made, and continue to make, him lose crave and hunger. You were so cruel, so ethereal — so evil.

Kenjaku groaned your name, walking backwards and dropping onto the low seat the gallery provided. His legs spread and he hung his head down but his eyes remained affixed to your painting.

"He sounds beautiful, Mr Hajimoto," the blonde painter had told him once or twice or thrice. Young but talented, the way he used his brushes on canvas was so impressive and Kenjaku missed you so much (Y/N). He simply had to spread the wickedness of your beauty, immortalize it forever within canvases and lesser non-sorcerers minds.

"Did you know him?" his accent was clunky, the Japanese language tumbling on its delicate legs following the rhythm of the painters voice. Still, he — Mr Hajimoto, Kenjaku — gave him a gentle grin.

"Very well. He was my lover."

The small notebook the painter had written your features down in, it was displayed in this very room as well. In a glass casing, handled with gloves to ensure pesky skin oils wouldn't deteriorate his inked strokes.

Speaking of strokes, Kenjaku's was beginning to pick up it's pace. His smile now looser, like an animal that caught the scent of blood, his tongue curled over his teeth as he imagined the disgust on your face. You'd probably cover your nose with the sleeve of your robe and the thought makes his cock jump; you were wearing his favourite colours and it made him moan.

The notebook was filled with sketches of you. Kenjaku recalls correcting the human, correcting him when he disrupted the harmony of your anatomy. You were the humans muse for years, (Y/N). Even as he neared his death bed, the blonde artist kept drawing you. Sketches lose, your shape less tangible, but hauntingly beautiful. Like your dark flames flowing in the wind. Even as his memories of his life escapes him, the artist remembered you. What a blessing. Kenjaku had visited him before he died and whispered your name into the old man's ear.

Sorcerer Society keeps your name hidden. It's their way of control. Making Sukuna Ryomen more monstrous by telling others he ruled coldly and cruelly alone; death was not as harsh as being erased. They say Sukuna needed 20 of his fingers and his mummified heart to be revived. That's what those poems talked about after all.

A misunderstanding.

The heart was Sukuna's, yes.

But it wouldn't revive him.

"You were so angry," he chuckled out, "so defiant even when I was inside of you."

The sky was blood red, the black smoke making the colour more saturated as it seemed intent on blotting out the sun. Uraume had felt a sudden chill, you did too, and they swiftly rose as the scent of deceit was so thick in the air.

“Uraume,” your voice remained nonchalant. But there was a tenseness in your throat that even they could decipher through the layers of regality. They turned, mouth pressed into a thin line as they went on their knees.

You continued to stare, impassively looking down at the patterned swirl of their snow-white hair. The red and black sky turning the colour of your eyes a pleasantly mournful shade; the golden kanza in your hair that your Lord Sukuna himself had commissioned for you glimmered righteously. The teeth of a beast, the curling of centipede legs, and the melded wings of a raven. It was beautiful just as much as it was unusual.

“You leave your Lord’s prized possession to fend for himself?”

Uraume lips reveal a modest amount of teeth. Their face like a porcelain doll as they raise their head. It makes your heart flutter and squeeze.

“You are stronger than these worms, they wouldn’t dare attack you.”

This is true. A fact. You were strong. 100 sorcerers or 1, 000 sorcerers — it made no difference to you. They’d turn into dust and wither right before you. But it shocks Uraume when you place your palm against their jaw, thumb stroking over their cheekbone as you gaze down at them.

“How horrid it is, making me defend myself.”

They see your eyes soften. It was no wonder you were Lord Sukuna’s concubine. Just being touched by you, looked down upon by you; it makes their spine melt.

“I should have your head for your insolence.”

Uraume apologizes, lips stilling when your thumb presses down on them.

“Return to me. Whole. My Lord Husband and I will not be pleased if you do not. We don’t want weaklings to stand behind us.”

Uraume bows, their lips kissing your knuckles as they do before they raise and disappear from your sight. The screams of terror that are heard outside at the sight of them make you slip your eyes close.

Kenjaku appeared before you what felt like hours later. He looks at the scene with a raise of his brow. Your feet were soaked in blood as bodies were strewn across the wide room. The floor was shimmering, looking as though it was breathing as it creaked from his weight. The clothes the bodies wore painted a clear enough picture — they were your servants. Loyalties were swayed as the fight prolonged. These little ants thought they could save themselves from punishment if they showed these righteous sorcerers your head.

He couldn’t smell smoke and there were no signs of charring. The bodies were mangled beyond belief, guts spilling out, eyes gouged, arms bent unnaturally.

Yet, in the gore and horror, you stood across from him with only your feet stained by traitorous blood.

You were a vision. Delicately wiping away blood from the tiger claw kanza with the sleeve of a dead servant. Then, he watches as you carefully put it back in place atop your hair.

“Kenjaku.”

He bows his head, bending at his waist, then lifts himself up again.

“The Kamo clan, your clan, joined this rebellion. I feel that should be a good enough reason to kill you.” The fire in your eyes makes his heart race. He moves forward, casually stepping over a torn torso.

“That would be unwise,” he gives you a grin. This body of his is new. The stitches are still fresh and red. Most likely a desperate attempt of his to hide away while they destroyed his old body. The corpse is younger, and more plain-looking. Despite it’s Curse Technique being a mystery, you’ll take your chances at strangling him.

“I’ve come at the behest of your Lord Husband. To ensure your longevity.”

Your brows pinch. Kenjaku delights at the creases it creates, tucking away this sight into his memories for lonely nights. Then, you scowl.

“You lie.”

His giddiness is palpable. The wide grin on the corpse’s face is clearly not his own; cheeks lifted too high and smile too large and unnatural. Kenjaku must’ve been a truly ugly man with a truly ugly grin. The body struggles to adjust to this display of amusement.

“I’m not.”

He takes a step forward and you lift your hand. The standstill would’ve lasted longer if it weren’t for the yells and thunderous footsteps clambering up to your room.

“You lie!”

Dark flames roared out from the windows. The heat so smoldering it causes a burst of hot air to knock back the men on the stairs, burning their skin and face. The blood on the floor boils, the iron scent now more acidic as the once fleshy bodies now crumble into dust.

You feel his breathe against the nape of your neck. As you turn, he wrings his arms around you like a snake. One across your stomach, the other around your shoulder. That horrible smile is pressed against your skin.

“Kenjaku,” you growl through gritted teeth.

“That’s right. Say my name.”

Fighting feels a lot like sex.

Kenjaku can feel your passion behind every strike, the bruises you leave behind on his skin are akin to hickeys. When you yell out and scream, cheeks so hot he can feel the rush of blood to your face just from looking — the rapid pulse you have and the way your face is contorted.

Kenjaku pins you down. Your legs are thrown over his own while you gnash your teeth at him and spit insults his way. Your hair was so beautiful, thrown back around your head like a lion’s mane. He slides your wrists above your head and holds them with one hand while the other undoes the meticulous array of folds your kimono had.

Sweat drips down his nose. It’s all your fault. Using your Curse Technique in this room, charring the wood and setting it all aflame. Still, he could work in this conditions.

“Ah,” he moans at the sight of your bare skin. Watching the rise and fall of your chest, licking his lips as he places a hand over your heart.

When you kick at his stomach, he acts like he cannot feel it. When you kick again, this time hard enough for a loud crack to be heard, he looks at you.

“If you kill me, you will break the Binding Vow you and Ryomen had made with me.”

He feels your feet dig into his rib, the spiderwebs of cracks spreading further. He allows this with a pleased hum. Your ragged breathing all at once calms and with a blink, your eyes lose that unbridled fury.

“You dare say my Lord’s name so casually?”

Kenjaku laughs. As he leans down, he presses his forehead to yours. Your nose curls in disgust but you keep your lips pursed. The feeling of his sweat sliding down the sides of your forehead and dipping to travel the side of your nose; threatening to get into your eyes as it slips just beneath it.

“Forgive me, venerable concubine.” Kenjaku does not mean this. When he presses his fingers together and imbues his hand with Curse Energy. He enjoys it.

Slicing through your skin at a pace that made the cut more ghastly then it would be if it was done quickly. You remained stone-faced while Kenjaku chewed on his lower lip, every twitch or squint just fueling his hunger.

He is past your skin and now he sees the yellow, when he twists his wrist you grunt as he slices through the threads of muscles. He spreads his fingers and your teeth part as you let out a strained yell.

"You can be louder if you want," his lips brush against your cheek every time he speaks.

"When I return, I'll take pleasure in ripping your head off your body."

"Threatening me?"

He reaches bone. His finger scratching against it before he peels away and settles between your legs. Your hands aren't pinned but you do nothing but curl your fingers into fists as he shoves another hand into your chest. The squelching and pulsing of your flesh, the bursts of blood from your throbbing veins and pumping heart. The wetness and warmth of your insides. He can feel your body clenching around him, and he convinces himself its because you truly enjoy this depravity just as he does.

The size of his hands in your chest is unbearably uncomfortable. Invading you, filling you when you want nothing more than to burn him, as he moves his digits and wrists within you.

He grasps onto your bones and breaks it under the pressure of his wrist. Your blood is spraying him, staining his clothes.

"Your blood looks like ribbons," he whispers to you, "even your insides are like works of art."

You want this to be over with already.

Your arms move down, eyes still set in a glare. You slip your fingers under the soaked clothing and spread it apart further to reveal more of your skin. Shimmying your shoulders so your torso is now bare of any clothing.

The tent between his legs pressed into your crotch. It's hard to ignore, but you push through and grasp onto his elbow and force him to go in deeper.

"Promising you."

Kenjaku's elbow straightens sharply and he moans as he feels your heart beating in his palm. He pulls it out of your body, panting as your eyes slip close and your heart slows. Beating slowly...slowly...slowly...

Kenjaku moans at the memory of your heart in his hands. Your warm blood coating his skin, drying under his nails and crackling in the creases of his joints.

"I wanted to keep you on me forever," he grunts out as his pace gets faster. "The smell of you, of your flesh."

"I didn't need your body, but it was too beautiful not to be admired."

Kenjaku throws his head back, placing his palm across his nose and lips as he sifts through his memories so he can conjure it all over again.

The painting watches on impassively. The croons and purrs of Geto Suguru's cursed spirits echo faintly in Kenjaku's ears while his hips thrusts into his own fist. It's desperate. He usually isn't like this. Even when he was creating the Death Womb Paintings — even when his plans are so close to coming into fruition.

You make him like this. Make him lose control, every thought poisoned with you even when you're nothing more than a mummified heart hidden so desperately away by Sorcerer Society.

"I've gotten a lead," Uraume had informed him just a few days ago. "They've hidden him in the ocean in an underwater research facility."

"Underwater, hah, they think it'll keep your flames contained. Keep your loyal servant away as if the depths of the ocean is enough to scare them, us — Oh, (Y/N)."

His fist stops and Kenjaku stands, removing his clothing fully as he places a hand against the wall of the gallery. The textured wall, the grooves, give way to his nails as he digs them in. He stares into your eyes, imagining the crease of your furrowed brow and Kenjaku groans out your name as he cums all over the wall.

"...Oh, I can't wait to see you again, venerable concubine."

[fuming-on-the-sidelines]

@

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[moscnios]

If you are up to it and haven’t already done it. Could you pretty please write head cannons of the kid, heart, and straw hat pirates as parents. My favorite one is killer.

★ THEM AS PARENTS! headcanons ★

── featuring. sanji. zoro. kid. killer.

── cw. gn!reader. no pronouns used. no mentions of pregnancy. whole cake island and wano spoilers. me rambling again. not proofread.

── notepad. usually my limit is 3 but i added one more bcuz i felt inspired. it’s been awhile since ive written so i feel out of practice and these feel all over the place im so sorry. but i will say, i love you girl dad zoro and killer. i could talk about them forever

★ VINSMOKE SANJI ★

── unlike everyone else, sanji HAS thought about settling down and having kids. he thinks about it at least twenty times a day. every time he looks at you, he’s always thinking about your future together

── so when your twin boy and girl show up in your lives, he couldn’t be happier. he’s never been happier. life is finally coming together the both of you

── he loves your twins with all of his heart, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t want any more children. he’s already dreamed of having a big family that he can share all of his love and care with. and because he already had at least four baby names picked out

── given his own upbringing that he never ever plans to tell your children about, sanji takes his fatherly role very seriously. he does everything in his power to be better than his own father

── never will he allow any of his children to take his surname. he would prefer if they took yours or even adopted a new one altogether

── never will there be any middle child syndrome or favoritism between your kids. he loves each of them equally and does pretty well at spreading out his time with each of them, making all of them feel loved and cared for

── every night he gives everyone a long tearful good night before sending them all their separate ways like he’s never going to see them again….they’re just down the hall

── he is a very emotional father. no matter what your children do, milestone or not, he will sob. first words and steps, sobbing. finally being able to dress themselves, sobbing. nearly setting the kitchen on fire attempting to make him a birthday cake, he sobbed all day and tried to eat the inedible cake despite you telling him NOT to

── he was sick for a few weeks after that. how the cake was both overcooked and undercooked at the same time, neither of you could ever figure it out

── his favorite family activity is cooking together. he loves cooking for each of you, but there’s something about teaching your little ones all of his favorite recipes, or even learning how to make a whole new dish altogether, that warms his heart. plus seeing them all get along and work together as a team brings joyful tears to his eyes

── but he can definitely be the indulgent parent. all his kids have to do is flash him the puppy eyes and a pout and he’s a goner, leaving you to play the authoritative parent and say no

── he is also the affectionate, embarrassing, and petty dad, always smothering the little ones in hugs no matter how old they get

── they could be in their late teens and he’ll still hug them the same as he did when they were small. or he’ll embarrass them in front of their friends by yelling how much he loves them and expects them to say ‘i love you’ back OR he’s not going to let them go anywhere

★ RORONOA ZORO ★

── girl dad

── the thought of being a dad never crossed his mind. he was focused on his goal at hand, becoming the greatest swordsman. he wasn’t exactly sure having a kid would fit in that

── but he was going to have to figure it out because resting in his arms was an infant girl with the most precious cheeks

── you don’t have to worry much about your daughter, even in infancy your daughter adopted your husband’s calm and quiet nature. she even adopted his napping habits

── if he’s asleep out on the deck in the sun, she’s asleep out on the deck, either in his chest or in his lap. and no one dares to wake them, especially not after that time when usopp and sanji were arguing too loud, causing your daughter to stir in her sleep, alerting zoro immediately. in a matter of seconds, he held your baby in one hand and his unsheathed sword in the other

── nap time is a VERY serious thing

── though your daughter’s favorite place to rest is on his back. no matter how awake she may seem, the minute he wraps her in the baby wrap, she’s suddenly very sleepy

── if you’re looking for your daughter and you don’t immediately see her, don’t panic. nine times out of ten, she’s on zoro’s back napping

── she is always present during his training sessions in a little swing franky made and surprised you both with that way he can train and keep an eye on her at the same time. maybe that’s why your little girl ended up showing so much interest in swords as she grew up

── like father, like daughter. your daughter began her road to being a swordsman with zoro as her teacher. he learns from his own past failures, in guiding her to be an even better swordsman than him

── not only giving her the skills she needs to wield a blade, but also skills she will need to grow as a person

── when he is sure he has trained her well enough for them to spar, he will do so without mercy. she may lose a number of times, but to never give up is a skill he instilled in her since the beginning of her training

── and when she finally does best her father, he cannot hide just how proud he is. he’s in all dad mode

★ EUSTASS KID ★

── kid never pictured being in a stable relationship, let alone settling down and having children. he didn’t have much experience with children

── in reality, being a father scared him. it was uncharted waters. he didn’t know the first thing about being a good dad. he knew kids were a lot of work, and he didn’t know if he could handle it

── more importantly, he was worried he was going to let both you and your child down. and he couldn’t live with that

── but here he was now struggling his way through the baby and toddler stages. but through his mistakes and errors, as opposed to getting angry and giving up, like he usually does, he’s gaining patience and trying his best. that’s all anyone could ever ask for

── he becomes a natural over time. no longer needing you to intervene to keep your son from crying up a storm. if it’s taking a little longer than usual to put your son to sleep, and you offer to help, he will decline. his stubbornness and pride won’t allow him to accept your help

── if there’s one thing kid hates more than anything, it’s anyone thinking he can’t take care of his son

── it’s not uncommon to see the captain of the kid pirates to be seen around the victoria punk your son strapped to his chest

── it’s hard to take him seriously when he’s barking out orders to the crew and your excitable little one is reaching up to pinch and pull at his father’s cheeks and nose

── kid claims to not be a dad who cries, but he definitely does cry, oftentimes more than you do

── your son’s first word is definitely a swear word. kid thinks it’s hilarious seeing your son scream fuck

── as your son ages, the more he becomes just like his father. and with age comes the attitude, which does not mesh well with kid’s attitude

── never in a million years would you think you would find kid losing a loud argument to your fussy toddler son about nothing

── and it does not change. it continues to get worse as your son begins to form his own opinions. your son and kid clash even more, leading you to be the mediator between their arguments

── or at points when they stop talking altogether, you have to relay messages to the other because they refuse to be in the same room with each other

── kid wants to start your son off young when it comes to training him, wanting the little one to be hell just like him. if your son expresses interest in learning how to fight, kid is overjoyed but does not plan to take it easy on him just because they’re blood

── if your son has no interest in fighting and wants to lead a peaceful life, kid will be disappointed and it will take some time for it to get out of his system. but he ultimately will support his son’s decisions

── kid has a habit of ruffling your son’s hair or knocking heads as his way of showing affection. that’s just how it has always been since he was born. but the day your son decides to leave the ship to start the new chapter of his life is the first time they share a real hug

★ KILLER ★

── killer is prime girl dad material. king of girl dads, if you will. he’s a natural. well, he becomes a natural after he gets over his fear of holding your daughter

── he has led a complicated life up to this point. it is not something he regrets, but it is something that he worries could affect his family

── these calloused hands have killed, been stained with the blood of dozens, he had lost count. these were not the hands that should hold such a pure soul

── the first time he actually held her was in the middle of the night when she woke up crying in the middle of the night. he pondered on waking you but decided against it seeing you sound asleep. it has been a while since you had gotten a good sleep. you deserved your rest

── he had watched you countless times lull your little one back to sleep. he remembered how you did it, trying his best to keep his shaky hands still, reaching into your little’s crib, gently taking her into his arms

── who knew saying “please don’t cry” in a sweet low voice would be enough to calm her ??

── quite a sight you awoke to, seeing your husband passed out in a chair with your daughter still asleep in his arms

── it became part of his routine, every time she woke up in the middle of the night, he was going to take care of it. when she was old enough to sleep in the bed with the two of you, you better believe she took her place in the middle and kept it well into her late childhood, early teens

── they are attached at the hip. wherever she is, he is and vice versa, no matter the situation

── like the one time the kid called for an emergency meeting and killer could not find you in time so he just took your daughter with him

── everyone was on their best behavior because you had already warned them that if her first word was a swear word you would murder each of them and spread their body parts across the grand line for the sea king to feast upon

── ….they were not going to take the chances

── just your luck, your daughter inherited killer’s luscious hair. no matter what you do to it, no matter how hard you attempt to gel it down, it shoots right back up

── but killer’s got it. he does her hair most days because she prefers it that way they end up matching

── there are two things about killer that he is still very sensitive about. his appearance and his laugh, both things he tries to hide from your daughter. though it is easier to hide his appearance than his laugh

── after everything happened in wano, he was ashamed. he couldn’t bear letting her see him like this. he wanted her to remember him the way he used to look. he wasn’t ready to show her, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready.

── until he was ready, he allows her to place her hands on his mask and put together what she thinks he looks like.

── currently, she envisions him to be a snake monster under his mask

© MANGEKYUOU — do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

[more-sonorous]

tipsy cuddles (sun, moon, stars)— jatherid

this is just a little piece of some seriously extensive writing I’ve done for these three— I think I’ve probably written like 10k words for them that I’ve yet to share!

they are sort of tipsy in this scene, but all of these characters are 21+ (actually close to their thirties), so the alcohol consumption is totally legal.

the characters aren’t totally wasted and the alcohol is barely mentioned in this little section, but I figured I’d leave a warning!

anyways please enjoy these few words! I don’t have anything new to post today so I figured I’d share some writing I enjoyed doing.

(for context, davey did not confess feelings for them. he just ranted about how he’s attempted dating and it just hasn’t worked for him. the end of that rant is where the scenelet starts.)

…..

“It’s not that I don’t love people. I do. I know I do. Fuck, I’m almost positive that I’m bi. And I know I want— I want to be with people. I wanna date and all of that stuff, I really do. But I think something’s wrong with me. I’m too— I’m too weird, or something.”

By that point, Davey was gesticulating wildly as he spoke, face flushed and eyes bright with passion. He’d shifted positions in his chair and was leaning towards them, one leg tucked beneath himself and the other still tossed over the armrest. She’d seen him frustrated like this on multiple occasions, with tears shimmering in his expressive eyes and movements sharp and angry, but she’d never seen him vibrating with such a mix of shame and relief before. She wanted to hug him and hide him from the world forever. She wanted to tug her hands through his hair and call him hers and tell him he’d never have to worry about assholes who didn’t listen to him again. Because she’d listen. She knew she would.

Instead she settled with something simple: “Davey, that’s ridiculous. It’s absolutely not your fault. You just haven’t found the right person yet.”

“What if there isn’t a right person?” Then he frowned, and Kath felt her heart shatter in a million different ways.

“Oh, don’t say that. I know you’re gonna find someone.” She held a hand out and after a moment, he stretched his own arm across the gap to take it.

Kath tugged until he was stumbling to his feet, and from there, she pulled him down onto the couch where she and Jack were already curled together. He fell on top of her with a soft ‘oof’, which made all three of them laugh. Davey’s weight was a welcome blanket and she threw one arm around his waist, using the other to guide his face into the curve of Jack’s neck. Davey’s shoulder had landed just beneath her chin and she pressed her nose and lips against it, breathing in the smell of his laundry detergent and the unique notes of papery books and vanilla shampoo. How anyone could take someone like Davey for granted baffled Kath. He was a wonderful human.

She watched Jack’s hand find its way to Davey’s curls and the taller boy relaxed nearly immediately, feeling almost boneless against them. After about a moment in the embrace, Jack smiled slightly and tilted his head to press against Davey’s hair. “Can I take your glasses off, Dave?”

Davey gave a grunt of affirmation, so Jack carefully extracted the glasses from their tangle of limbs and carefully set them on the coffee table. Kath couldn’t hide her pleased smile. Somehow she’d landed two of the cuddliest men she knew as her boyfriend and best friend, and she absolutely wasn’t complaining.

“You smell good, Jack.” Davey’s voice vibrated his chest, words slightly slurred (he wouldn’t have said something so honest if he was sober). Kath watched as Jack smiled.

“Thanks, Davey. You too, man.”

Davey laughed a slightly drunken giggle and one of his hands slid down to Kath’s wrist, tangling with her fingers. She immediately took his hand in hers and closed her eyes, savoring the contact.

Soon Davey’s breaths began to even out and Kath and Jack followed suit, relaxing to the tune of the soft country music playing behind them. She was actually starting to enjoy the deep, crooning voices, but she’d never tell Jack that. She’d never hear the end of it and he’d be begging to blast his country favorites every day. Lowered inhibitions led her to gently nudge Jack. “Hey, Davey likes head scratches.”

“Kath, don’t—“ David whined, but his protest shut down the moment Jack’s fingertips disappeared into his hair and dragged carefully against his scalp. He made a very un-Davey-like noise and closed his eyes, which forced Katherine to suppress a giggle.

Jack laughed softly. “I think I found your factory reset, Davey.”

“Mmph, hush.” He muttered gruffly, and the other two shared a quiet laugh, because Jack was absolutely right. “You’re just weirdly good at this.”

Jack smiled slightly and wrapped his other arm securely around Kath’s waist, sandwiched between her body and the fabric of Davey’s t-shirt. “I’m a man of many talents. Now you just shut your eyes and nap, Dave. Stop thinkin’ so hard— I can hear your brain goin’ a mile a minute.”

“Yeah.” Kath gave his hand a squeeze. “Thanks for being honest with us, by the way. About the dating stuff. I know that took a lot.”

“I… I guess I should’ve told you sooner.” He gave the smallest shrug, just barely shifting on top of her. Kath rubbed her thumb in a small circle against his palm.

“No, you were waiting until you were ready. I had no right to be offended. Let’s just— let’s just leave it be for now. I’m comfy.”

“Okay—“

He started pushing himself up out of their little pile and earned noises of protest from both Jack and Kath, who pulled him back down with whatever hold they had on him. David burst into drunken giggles, his chest shaking against Kath. She scoffed. “I said I was comfy!”

“But I’m crushing you!”

“I like being crushed. Now, shhh.”

Jack copied her shushing and once Davey’s fit of giggles died, Jack resumed his head scratches and Kath curled up between her boys, feeling more at home than she’d felt in a long time. Davey started drifting off, and he fell asleep long before Jack or Kath came close. The last movement she remembered was Jack sleepily reaching for their remote to turn off the music.

After that it was just warmth and sleep, and waking up sweaty and tangled and content in the morning with a hangover to boot.

[fuyusdreaming]

baji trio shenanigans incoming!!!

summary: just a lil bajifuyutora crack scenario i wrote up for shits and giggles!! it was originally written to be like a script for those silly little skits people do on anime tiktok that i absolutely love, but i fear im a terrible actor 😭 so i decided to post it here!! i have a few more ideas brewing in my head that im gonna try to write up as well so this may just turn into a series.

[chifuyu sits on the bed in their shared master bedroom, typing away on a laptop. he finishes up whatever he’s doing and closes the lid of the computer with a sigh, setting it to the side. ]

chifuyu: finally, that took fucking forever. now for the good stuff!

[he pulls a manga from the night stand and settles into a more comfortable position to read it, pulling the covers over his legs. after reading for a few minutes, he’s interrupted by baji barging into the bedroom looking slightly frazzled, followed by kazutora who has a shit eating grin on his face. chifuyu looks up at them from his book, giving them both a slightly confused look]

chifuyu: hello?

kazutora: baji has a question!

[baji turns to glare at him, hissing at him to shut up. kazutora just cackles]

[chifuyu sets his manga down, now turning to give them his full attention, although it’s obvious he’s sensing some bullshit]

chifuyu: okay?

[baji opens his mouth to speak but hesitates for a moment, knowing full and damn well they’re both going to get scolded]

baji: it’s a…hypothetical question. from both of us…not just me

chifuyu: hypo…thetical?

[kazutora nods enthusiastically, still wearing that shit eating grin that tells chifuyu it’s definitely not hypothetical]

kazutora: mhm mhm!

baji: so…you know how we sell dog treats…at the pet shop?

chifuyu: yes..?

[kazutora snorts beside him, trying to hold back his laughter. baji hits him and hisses again for him to shut up]

baji: and you know how some of them…look like cookies?

chifuyu: uh…yes?

baji: what would you think would happen, hypothetically, if someone who wasn’t a dog ate one? hypothetically!

[chifuyu’s face goes from confusion to straight disappointment. he licks over his lips and bites down, pinching the bridge of his nose]

chifuyu: you mean…like a cat?

[baji sucks his teeth, avoiding eye contact]

baji: not exactly…

chifuyu: oh my fucking god

[kazutora starts losing his shit in the background and baji yells at him again to shut up, giving him a harsh shove. they begin shoving each other and arguing back and forth. chifuyu is rubbing his face in an attempt to compose himself]

chifuyu: who did it.

[the fighting ceases and they both turn to look at him]

baji: huh?

chifuyu: which one of you ate the fucking dog treat?

[kazutora grins, raising his hand]

kazutora: oh! pick me, pick me!

[chifuyu sighs but waves at him]

chifuyu: yes kazutora….

kazutora: baji did it!

chifuyu: why.

[baji turns away shamefully, mumbling an answer that chifuyu can’t pick up]

chifuyu: what?

baji: kazutora double dog dared me…

[chifuyu lets out a deep sigh, letting his face drop into the palm of his hand. kazutora sits there on the floor looking proud of himself while baji at least has enough sense to look shameful]

chifuyu: you…

chifuyu: kazutora dared you to eat a dog treat and you just….did it?

[baji bites his lip and nods]

chifuyu: baji…seriously?

baji: it was a double dog dare!

chifuyu: so?!

baji: fuyu…you can’t not do a double dog dare

[kazutora nods enthusiastically beside him]

kazutora: it makes you look lame as fuck

[chifuyu is clearly at a loss for words and just continues to keep his head buried in his hands]

baji: fuyu?

[chifuyu ignores him at first, still clearly trying to keep it together]

baji: fuyu..?

[chifuyu sighs, swiftly lifting his head, exasperated]

chifuyu: what.

baji: could you answer the question please?

chifuyu: what question?

baji: like what’s going to happen to me…hypothetically?

kazutora: is baji gonna die?

chifuyu: holy shit

baji: please!

kazutora: if you die can i have your boots?

baji: what? why? they don’t even fit you

kazutora: so? i want them

kazutora: if you die

chifuyu: he’s not going to die because he ate a fucking dog treat

[baji looks clearly relieved]

baji: oh thank god, i was scared for a while there

kazutora: so what’s going to happen?

[chifuyu looks at them both like they grew two heads]

chifuyu: nothing? if anything it just tasted nasty

baji: oh yeah it was gross

kazutora: he almost threw up!

baji: that’s why we put it back

[chifuyu slowly lifts his head, shaking it slightly. he pauses when he hears this and looks at them both once again, like they’ve grown two heads]

chifuyu: you what?

baji: we…put it back?

chifuyu: like in the bins with the tongs?

[baji and kazutora both nod]

chifuyu: guys- why would you- we can’t sell that

kazutora: why not?

chifuyu: because there’s a bite- oh my god just both of you go. get rid of it

[baji and kazutora both stand up and head towards the door]

baji: fuyu?

chifuyu: yes baji?

baji: what do we do with it?

chifuyu: i honestly don’t care at this point just- feed it to the dogs or throw it out it doesn’t matter

[they both nod and kazutora opens the door, going to step back outside]

chifuyu: hold on

[they both stop, turning back to face him]

chifuyu: while you’re down there can you please restock the dog toys? the end caps are starting to look empty

baji: aw man

kazutora: at least you’ll get more time to think of my dare!

[baji grins mischievously]

baji: oh don’t you worry, ive already thought of it

[they both go to walk out the door again, chattering as they do]

chifuyu: wait.

[the chattering stops and they both turn to look at him once more]

chifuyu: if i come downstairs and kazutora is eating a dog treat im breaking up with both of you and you’re fired

baji: got it

[kazutora salutes]

kazutora: understood!

[thedragonqueen1998]

Today at work i got insanly inspired to write and once i got off work, i immidiently went on my phone to type it out. XD I just finished a 3 hour long writing ses(had a 15 minute food break in the middle). ^^ Probably just gonna forever gonna be a wip thing, but it was fun and i'm kinda proud of it. Despite it being rough in some parts, mostly because i wanted to rush to the 2nd half and i didn't wanna get stuck, i'm happy to share it. ^^

It's a kinda long, so i'm gonna add a Read more line to not fill your dash with text. Also, first time trying formatting out! XD

So, originally this post was just gonna be a "i actually wrote something! Look!" thing, just showing of some work i did, but after writing the reason why i wrote a line a certain way, it went into something very sad and kinda dark, so if you don't wanna read about death, a light mention of suicidal thought and grief... just stop after What even is my life.

Idk why i wrote it, but it took alot of effort and it feels... important to me, i guess. Part of processing and such. So, yeah. Read at your discretion. Thank you for your time. 💜

Ezio had many regrets in his long life. Not being there when his father and brothers were arrested. Of not being there more for his sister and mother. Of not trying to be together with Cristina. Not being able to save her. Or being able to save Uncle Mario and Monteriggioni. But biggest of all, not having spent more time with his family before the execution.

He had love, but didn't cherish it. Didn't truly feel it and took it for granted. But unlike so many others, Ezio could take those regrets and change them. Thanks to Desmond.

When he walked into the Library, he thought he might get an answer or two in return for many more. He truly didn't expect that calling out Desmonds name while the Apple bathed the walls in gold would result in it being answered by the being himself.

The being looked like a man, clad in a white light, eminating from a strange device under his right arm. His face looked like an exact replica of Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad's face, though his build was closer to his. Broad shoulders hidden underneath a strange hooded white doublet and long legs wearing strange tight fitted pants made from a material he did not recognise. Even the scar was the same as his! Was Ezio made in the image of the one he was the Prophet for? Was Altaïr the herald? All questions Ezio wondered, but not knowing if Desmond was like Minerva or not, he dared not waste any questions if the beings patient was thin.

But first: "Are you Desmond?" He had to know, have it confirmed, even if the being appeared after the name was called.

"Ezio? Is this the Library? Am i seriously bleeding while dying!?" Desmond was looking around at the empty tomb, before his eyes returned upon Ezio.

"Yes, this is Altaïr's library. You are bleeding? I do not see any blood and you are dying!? Is there anything i can do to help you? Please, my lord. Tell me what i need to do to save you." Ezio was desperate to know his purpose and if all his life lead to this moment, where he could save Desmonds life, he would fulfill it.

"There's nothing you can do. I am dying semi willingly and even if this is some Animus infused death hallucination, it is nice having my last moments with you, even if your not really here. I am so sorry i couldn't answer any of your questions or try to save you from losing everything. You never deserved any of it. In the end it didn't really even matter. I am sorry you wasted your time chasing riddles and ghosts." He looked so grieve struck while saying it and the look Desmond had while gazing down onto Ezio could only be described as lovingly.

"What do you mean? Could you have saved my uncle!? My father and brothers!? Why didn't you if you do not think i deserved it! I have served the Brotherhood almost my entire life, sacrificed so much trying to find out what Minerva meant and now your telling me that it was all for nothing!? If you think i wasted my time then give it back!"

Desmonds eye's widen before softly smiling and saying: "Your right, you wasted your time and sacrificed too much for nothing. Let's change that."

Before Ezio knew it, the world went white and he knew nothing more.

—————

When Ezio awoke, it was to a bed he hadn't seen in almost 40 years. His childhood bed and his room. He couldn't believe it. He was given a second chance. To live his life. To right wrongs. To save his family! To think going to the Library would result in this!

At the thought of the Library, Ezio suddenly remembered Sofia. To have forgotten her and even abandoned her without a second thought left Ezio feeling guilty. Would she wait outside the Library before realising he would never come back? Or because he is now in the past, a past where he intends to change the future, would she never meet him? Never exist? The thought of her hurt, but like so many others, Ezio knew that him being in her life would have risked hers. Even if she knew and accepted it, it is still better if she never got the chance to know him and inevitibly suffer because of it. Same with Cristina. Though he could now choose her, he knew that despite the many mistakes in his life, the Brotherhood was not one of them and his refusal to properly let her go killed her. Letting that life affect her once again was too cruel. It was for the better to just let her go.

Federico nudged him with his elbow. "Brother, what has you thinking so hard you look like you bit into something bitter?"

"Nothing much, just wondering what i should get." Ezio smiled and laughed. He was currently out with his family on a trip the market. The last time around, he had decided to sneak off to spend some time with a girl he didn't even remember the name of anymore instead of spending time with his loved ones, to his great shame and regret. This was the last thing his family had done together outside of dinners before the execution in 3 days. That he missed out on it was one of his biggest regrets, but Desmond let him change it.

That Ezio might never truly understand or know what or who Desmond is, how he watched him in the Vault or even what Minerva's people and the Pieces of Eden truly were will forever haunt him, but the trade to see his family again and to even be able to save them is a fair trade. He can go his life wondering these questions and maybe try to find them now that he will have more time, thanks to already knowing the Templars plans and who will be an enemy or ally.

He felt a finger poke him inbetween his eyebrows.

"There you go again Brother. Thinking too hard! Be careful or you might hurt yourself." Federico teased before yelping and then laughing when Ezio pushed him.

"Please don't start fighting now sons." Their father said before turning back to the stall owner to continue discussing what wares to buy and the prices.

"Sorry Father!" Ezio said before giving his brother a teasing look that promised this was not over.

Ezio remembered this day well enough. Not to remember the woman he decided to chase, but enough to know that when his family had been at the market a horse had run wild there and according to Claudia, nearly trampled her down in the confusion.

He was a bit sceptical to believe it was as close as she had made it out to be, but he knew horses much better now than he did before. After years of riding them to and from places in the chase for his targets, he knew that having one running towards you in a blind panic could scare anyone. Even though he knew to be wary of them and treat them with respecy during his original childhood, he didn't truly get how these gentle beings could be as scary as his sister had made the poor creature out to be.

According to his family, it had been a war horse, bloodied, running around in a blind panic, probably scared from a skirmish. Being chased by guards hadn't helped and eventually the guards got a good shot at it and put it down.

Ezio wanted to save his sister years of fearing horses, so he kept an eye and a ear out for any signs that the animal was on it's way.

There. A scream. Everyone stopped and looked around for the source. The source was still hidden by the crowds, but in the distance you could start seeing people moving away from something coming this way and the screams were getting closer.

Ezio breathed and slipped into his Second Sight, the Eagle Vision, as he now knew Altaïr had called it. Or more accuratly, Eagle Sense. With the years, his constant use and need for it had changed his Sight. It had become much stronger, letting him see farther, expanded his hearing, to let him hear his enemies heartbeat and even know what moves they were going to make. Even let him know where his enemies was going to go on a patrol route.

It truly was a gift and now he would use it to try and predict where the animal would go, as to lead his sister and family away from the danger. Then he saw it. The shine of something important. Something that glowed as strongly as the Apple of Eden had. The horse.

There was much about his Gift he could not explain. He had tried, but it is much like explaining sight to a blind person. Why things he didn't even know about could glow gold and lead him to the answer. Why allies glowed blue and enemies red, nor how he could tell friend from foe and now. His Sight told him, with the same intuition as telling friend from foe, that this horse was Desmond.

How is Desmond here? Why? Did he lie about dying? Or was certain death only a large chance that Desmond beat? Ezio supposed it did not matter. If he lets events play as they had before, Desmond would be struck down by an arrow within minutes. Oh, maybe Desmond had tried to prevent his father and brothers demise, but was struck down in the attempt? Though, why choose to do it as a rampaging horse? Either way, Desmond was clearly panicking, almost upon him now. If Ezio could not calm him down, his death was guaranteed.

But how? Ezio has just seconds now to plan a way to stop him before he is trampled down.

Then, he finally realises, that among the bright gold he shines, he also glowes blue. Such a deep colour which he has only seen in the greatest friends or closest family and he knows, Desmond would never harm him. The look of pure love on Desmonds face made more sense now.

So Ezio decides to not move and simple raise up his hands, as if to pet the horse.

"EZIO!"

————

Desmond was in pain. He knew that Juno lied about his death being quick and painless, but god, why did it have to hurt so much!? During his hallucination, it wasn't nearly so bad! And can't forget the weird nightmare he's having ontop of it. He's a goddamned horse on some battlefield. He was rearing up when the nightmare started, neighing as his rider was shot and killed by an arrow.

There's so much blood. The smell strikes fear in his heart. There's so much red. He slips into Eagle Vision and there's even more red. Not a spec of blue. A sword slides against the armor he is wearing and the screech of metal is too much. He bolts.

He needs to run. Away from the monsters with sharp sticks. Away from the smell of blood and death. Away from the shadows hiding hunters. They follow him. They chase him for a long time.

He is getting so tired.

He needs to get back to the barn. His owner would make everything alright. He would croon soft noises he did not understand, but the tone was soft and gentle. He would give him a treat while brushing him down after a hard days work.

He did ride him into scary battles he did not understand, but afterwards he would wash and groom him extra thoroughly, while feeding him the best apples, crooning more sounds in a happy tone. He would repeat one of the few sounds he understood, which meant "him" and "pay attention to me".

Dante.

But he wasn't on his back anymore and he didn't hear his voice. Just the loud, scary noises of more men in the shiny hard thing. They had the pointy sticks too and tried to take the things dangling from his mouth. Only his owner can touch that! Only he is to be trusted with them.

Running is getting harder, there is large, straight hills in the way and the path is narrower with many strangers in it.

There is still so much red. He can still smell the blood, feel it clotting his fur. Too much red!

Blue.

Suddenly there's blue in front of him. He knows blue means ally. Though why and how this person is blue confuses him. But he is Blue and running him over is not good, but why is he standing there!? Does he not see the red!? Smell it!? Does he not understand we need to run!?

"Desmond"

That single word pierces the fog of fear and wild panic that has flooded Desmonds mind. Ezio is in front of him, hand already gripping the reigns while the other rests on his muzzle.

"There we go Desmond, everything is alright."

Desmond still feels phantom threads of fear, but with Ezio's calming blue glow and his voice saying gentle reassurances, it feels far away.

Now with his mind fully human and not driven by horse instincts or memories, the question becomes: How and why the fuck is he a horse in 15th century Italy with Ezio!?

What even is his life.

————

So, a couple parts i'm stupidly happy about is the "He had love, but didn't cherish it. Didn't truly feel it and took it for granted." part. This, as you can probably tell was inspired by the famous quote "When I was a young man, I had liberty, but I did not see it. I had time, but I did not know it. And I had love, but I did not feel it."

I believe Ezio didn't fully understand liberty until he tried to live a peaceful life with Sofia and realised he would always fear Templars taking revenge on his family and time, because the knowledge that he would never see his children grow up to adults had never been a concern before he met Sofia. He probably thought he wouldn't have a family at all.

But love. Love he would understand what he missed. He would understand it just days after he lost his father and brothers. Those moments you missed out on. Of opportunities to spend time that you squandered away. Time you will never get back, because in real life we don't have time travel.

And now i understand it. Before the end of the last year, i was like Ezio before the loss. Before i lost my grandparents only a few weeks apart.

Those opportunities to spend time was rare and thankfully i took most of them, but i still squandered it away by not actually spending time with them. I just visited and hid away in my room, wasting the time by sitting on the phone.

I will forever regret that because ny memory is shit and besides a few childhood ones, i have no memories of them. I still remember their voices, they were pretty distinct thankfully, but how long until i forget that.

It hurts and as someone who is afraid of death and it's finality, such a reminder that time and love is finite is soulcrushing. It is only recently that i have truly started to think of my grandparents and i guess try to process the fact they are gone forever.

When we first got the news that my grandpa had died, i was even more glued to my phone, not wanting to acknowledge what was happening. I also didn't wanna sleep and only got some when i passed out from exhaustion. We even went to the doctor to get time of work and some sleep medication i didn't dare end up taking.

I even had thoughts of just taking all the pills and just sleeping, to get away from the pain forever. But i'm thankfully too much of a coward, so it just stayed thoughts. I'm doing much better now and as i mentioned, i think i'm starting to process the fact that they are gone.

So, yeah. This post went in a direction i didn't expect. But it feels important and maybe in a few years i can look back at this post and see a snapshot of who i was and reflect on who i am now. So, here's to the future me and anyone else who needs to hear it:

I hope things are going well and if they're not... well, things get better. They always do. You're loved and even if your loved ones are gone, they live on in you. You will carry that love with you, for the rest of your life. 💜

[earthtoharlow]

Invisible String

requested months ago by an anon, sorry it took so long but I hope I did it justice 💋

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You placed the heavy box down on the floor with a heavy sigh of exhaustion. After two years of dating, you finally decided to take the next step and move in with Jack.

Rumbling through your closet you stubbed across an old shoebox tucked in the back of your closet. Sitting down on the floor of your closet you opened it, curious to see what was inside. You smiled when you saw it was photos from when you were younger.

Among the photos of birthdays, nights out with friends, and vacation photos, one particular picture caught your eye. You had to have been no older than 18, it was a photo of you smiling, back facing the stage at a Forecastle music festival.

But what you noticed in the background on stage stood a boy that bore striking resemblance to Jack. Your heart began to race as you studied the photo closely, the resemblance was uncanny yet undeniable.

“Jack, come here! Quick!” You yelled, needing to show Jack immediately

Moments later, Jack came rushing in, thinking something was wrong. “Where’s the fire?” He asked out of breath. You laughed, shaking your head before waving the photo in his face excitedly.

“Damn, I definitely would’ve flirted with you in school.” Jack said looking down at the photo. “No, you idiot! Look at the background, what do you see?!”

You waited, watching him look closer at the image. You knew it would take a minute since he wasn’t wearing his glasses. Jack’s eyes began to widen his expression quickly morphing from confusion to shock and you knew he found it.

“That’s me,” he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief.

You nodded, your mind began to wander when Jack confirmed it was him. How was this possible? Was it merely a coincidence, or was there some deeper connection between them that spanned years before they even met?

“You really saw me perform before we even officially met.”

You nodded, almost feeling yourself get emotional. You and Jack were meant to be and for some reason that lifted a weight you didn’t know you had off your shoulders.

As you guys continued packing up your place, Jack couldn’t help but bring up the photo again. “Hey, do you think I should start charging royalties for appearing in your old photos,” Jack joked, flashing you a playful grin.

A smile tugged at your lips as you rolled your eyes. “Oh, please! You should feel honored to have made a cameo in my life before we even officially met!”

Jack laughed, pretending to ponder the idea. “Maybe I should sign the back of it? You know I’d do anything for my day ones.”

You swatted his arm lightly, as both of you busted out laughing. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“But, seriously.” Jack said becoming more serious. “finding that photo just makes me feel like our connection was meant to be. Maybe we really are soulmates.”

Your heart felt like it was going to burst out your chest at his words. “Well, if that’s the case, then I guess I’m stuck with you forever, huh?”

Jack grinned. “Hell yeah, you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not!”

You both shared another laugh, before Jack reached over to give you a sweet kiss, happy to know that the two of you were soulmates in every sense of the world.

***

AN: very much enjoyed writing this, let me know your thoughts!

[sunflower-author]

Hello 😁🤚🏻

I hope you are in good health and have a full spirit 💖

I'm having trouble getting in a writing mood and reading others story always make me happy. I've never really sent request before so this would be my frist, I hope it's not much trouble, and if you can't find inspiration for it, I'll understand if you can't or don't want to do it.

I was hoping you could write a yandere assassination classroom, the entire class of 3-E or just a few like Karma, Nagisa, Itona (anyone really) with a reader that couldn't care less about their yandere nature, and someone blurts out (do to feeling guilty) that they have been stalking them home and had taking some of their stuff (the class thinking reader will get mad) but reader just shrugged and say they already knew and that they need to work on their stalking because she figured them out on day 2. Gender doesn't matter, but if you do gender fluid that be nice if not anything else is good.

If you don't wish to write it, please say no◇

Please have a good day/night. ♡

SO SORRY!! This took much longer than I anticipated for!!

I really hope you like it!! If not please lmk on things I can fix!!!

Also, somehow this was a bit rushed too sorry!

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

"Hey Ritsu, are you connected?" Tomohito asks, sitting down at a desk beside her.

"Yes, the girls put the cameras in, there are no blind spots," Ritsu answers.

"Wait, no blind spots? Wouldn't that be... I don't know..." Kaede says worried.

"The cameras are only in their living room, we didn't put any cameras in anything else if that was what you were thinking," Tomohito says reassuring Kaede.

"Well we did put some listening devices, in some of the plushies we gave them, isn't that right? Itona?" Rio asks, putting an arm around him. 

"Making them was a bit tricky, but it was a lot easier to make than the cameras," Itona says, playing with his remote car.

"You guys are seriously trying too hard," Karma says, in a mocking tone having his dumb smirk, plastered on his face.

"Really now? and what do you suggest we do differently?" Ryoma asks, clearly annoyed.

"You all a bunch of babies, if you really loved Y/N you'll skip this boring stalking thing, and just take things into your own hands," Karma says, with a statistic smile.

"If we were to do that Y/N would hate us forever," Nagisa counters back.

"Really?, Because I think that if we keep them long enough, they will eventually fall for us, I mean humans are social creatures, needing contact in order to survive, with us being their only contact they will eventually fall for us, right?" Karma says explaining.

"Even if that were to happen, if we keep them isolated they might break, losing themselves then loving us, I don't want that to happen," Nagisa says seriously, looking up at Karma.

"A small price that might be paid," Karma says, shrugging "But if it were just me, they wouldn't break, but now that I am sharing the chances would be higher," he says as if the class were all just a nuisance.

"Guys! Shut Up! Y/N just walked into the building!" Hinata says, panting a bit as she just ran into the room.

With that, the room goes silent...

Until...

"Takuya I'm sorry, but I'm busy after school today how about tomorrow?" you say walking in the room. All eyes are on you, ".....Um.. Hey guys?" you say unsurely. 

The tension in the room faded, and they all started talking like nothing happened. It was a bit scary how the mood can change like a flip of a switch. 

"Hey Y/N! What were you talking about with Takuya?" Manami asks, in her usual timid voice.

"Oh just if I was able to hand out at the ramen place later on today, but I'm hanging out with Rinka and Ryunosuke later," you say casually.

"Heh, sorry Takuya but there are already three of us, maybe next time we'll invite you," Rinka says teasingly.

"Hey Y/N,  do you wanna come with me to the teacher's lounge? Korosensei just came back from Germany yesterday," Kaede asks, popping her head out the door. "Sounds fun and good, I'm in," you say excitedly, as you head out the door.

Takuya waits for your footsteps to become gone before saying "You just want more pictures of Y/N that's the only reason you and Ryunosuke, are taking them out," clearly annoyed.

"Oh whatever, you always like looking at the pictures in the end, just like everyone else," Ryunosuke says rolling his eyes.

"I.. just make sure they're good," Takuya says embarrassed.

"Your talking to the best snippers in class 3-E, we always have good visuals on our target," Rinka says, hearing the pride in her voice.

"I thought you guys said that Rinka and Ryunosuke stopped taking pictures of Y/N?" Manami asks worried.

"I... well... it's complicated," Hiroto says, trying to explain it to her, as he was the one who told Manami that they stopped taking pictures of Y/N.

"He obviously lied to you," Karma says blankly. "Your too empathic, we needed you to stop worrying over Y/N, knowing that you would break, telling them everything... well ruining everything for all of us," Karma says explaining.

"I admit that I'm not the best actor, but you guys didn't have to lie about Y/N, I care about them, just as much as any of you guys, I even made the drugs you asked for," Manami says, as he holds up a bag of different bottles.

"Wait... what drugs?" Nagisa asks, confused and curious.

"You know the the drugs, I made my own chloroform, something that calms the mind, something that weakens muscles, and lastly something that can make them sleepy," Manami says explaining.

"We didn't... Karma!" Nagisa says, angry by the thought Karma would do such a thing.

"So what if I was, I promise I won't do it alright, especially now that you know," Karma says as he puts his hands up.

"Hey guys! We're back," Kaede says, walking through the door. Signaling to everyone that you are nearby, it became a habit sometimes when they talk they become so engaged in the conversation, that they lose track of anything else, including your presence.

"Ah Y/N, just the person I wanted to see," Karma says, with a sweet smile. You know something is up when he smiles like that, just when does he normally smile sweetly?

"Karma... what do you want?" You ask hesitantly, staying cautious. 

"You know, we barely spend time with each other, most of the time you just hang out with everyone else... it seems like your avoiding me," he says hurt, clearly acting.

"Karma you know that's not true, everyone just makes plans with me every single second of the day, you know this, so what's your point?" you ask, wondering what he is trying to say.

"It's just that...don't you think it's a bit odd... that every day you have someone that wants to hang out with you, it's a bit abnormal behavior? Ever noticed how everyone treats you slightly differently? Or the fact that they know small details about you, that you've never shared before? Do you wonder why is that?" Karma says still smiling, but with a mischievous face.

"Karma..." Nagisa says, with a dark look, warning Karma.

"You messed up my plan, I'm just returning the favor," Karma says looking at Nagisa, then turns to you.

"Well, don't you?" Karma says in a smug tone.

"... I wonder why, on my first day of school, Rinka and Ryunosuke were following me home, I wonder why Kotaro somehow knows when I'm going to mess up on things, I wonder why Nagisa has a whole notebook dedicated to me, and lastly I wonder why you act so innocent when you are the worst one out of everyone, do seriously think I don't know that you hurt people that I talk to that is not in this class? And a whole lot more things of you and the rest of the class," You say, calm and collected.

"You knew this whole time?..." Nagisa asks with wide eyes.

"Anyone would have been able to see and know what you all were planning," You say turning to look back at him. (Any normal person would be oblivious to it all)

"Heh, I knew I couldn't fall in love with just any normal person, turns out you truly are unique," Karma says proud that you were conscious of what they were doing.

[ghosts-bandwagon]

ever since i read your mini HC that ghost likes bake off, you should totally write about ghost forcing the rest of 141 and R to watch the finale,,, like i want to know who the boys would support i am desperate for borderline crack (can be platonic!141 or R is affectionately sighing at their idiot boyfriend ghost).

or ghost's thoughts on bingate. anything bake off PLEASE

YES oh god YEEEEEESSS THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS (they’re referencing this post!)

I don’t think Ghost would have to force anyone to watch it, I feel like he’s just watching it one day and everyone kind of joins in, it snowballs from there

It’s a big deal around base, when you first joined you thought it was meant to be ironic but everyone took it so seriously you were a little shocked

Ghost is very much the “knows the process but can’t execute for shit” type of viewer, so he’s commenting as soon as he sees someone’s doing something wrong

“Fuckin’ idiot hasn’t let it prove long enough.”

Soap tries to jump in on the commentary but he has no fucking clue what Ghost’s talking about so he just nods along and asks him questions

You’re living it up in the meantime, obviously you’re sat right next to him so you get to hear all his commentary, even the ones he didn’t expect to slip out

There’s a betting pool going on for who’s gonna win, whoever’s baker gets sent home has to try and recreate the technical challenge from that episode, whoever’s baker is still left gets to judge it

At some point Ghost starts commenting to you specifically, turning his head in your direction but his eyes are glued to the screen

He loves it when you ask him questions, especially when you share your own experiences or input on certain bakes and what’s worked for you or hasn’t worked in the past

If you have baking experience then he’s asking you questions about certain processes and if it’s really feasible to do them in that short allotted time, he loves hearing what you have to say

He prefers the jokes that come from interacting with the bakers as opposed to the skits

If you fall asleep during an episode (as I often do), he will absolutely not tell you what happened but he won’t wake you up either, however he’ll be happy to rewatch the episode with you later on

The excitement for the finale is almost like watching a football match for them, the chorus of disappointment when chocolate starts melting or a key component of a bake doesn’t work out, the excited commentary when they finish their last bake, the cheering when they do well on the technical, everyone gets so worked up lmao

If the baker he was rooting for wins the competition, it’s all he’s thinking about, you can tell he’s a little smug about it too

But if the baker he was rooting for loses, don’t look at him, he’s so grouchy, especially if it means he loses the betting pool, he’s inconsolable.

You’d be hanging out together afterwards and he’s still talking about all the ways they went wrong and what they should’ve done differently, the only thing that’ll shut him up is your affectionate laugh and you kissing his head

Honestly I could go on forever about Ghost and Bake Off

[wonwoosthetic]

Amour Haine & Co. | Chapter 16 |

series masterlist

word count - 13.3k

warnings - cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of non-consensual sex, prostitution; this might be a kinda heavy chapter for some, so please do read with caution! I will never ever write a scene where any of the mentioned trigger warnings are actively happening to the reader, but there are mentions of it in this chapter

a/n: none of the things happening in this story are things that I put into relation to the real people that exist in this story! I also want to send every single one of you an immensely huge thank you!! For your patience, for your love, and for your support! I'm getting back into writing more frequently and hope to give you weekly updates from now on ˙ᵕ˙ I also hope that you of course enjoy this chapter and do not worry, there is so much more to come for this story! We're not getting towards the end of the story in the next few chapters.

I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT GUYS🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

"You're not gonna be able to walk away from this conversation forever, just so you know."

"Is this even legal?"

Your leg hadn't stopped shaking ever since you had stepped foot into the modern law firm. In the elevator, the air started feeling restricted again, just like it did back in the car that you had to share with Wonwoo. Only Wonwoo. Wonwoo and you.

His head snapped towards you, looking slightly down at your frame, hidden underneath the oversized clothing you were wearing, "What?" His eyebrows were scrunched, and you could tell his head was somewhere else, his thoughts were not in the room with you.

"This," you pointed towards the envelope, holding the possibly most important papers of your career in his hand. "What we're doing here. Is this legal?"

With pure confusion written all across his face, he kept his gaze interlocked with yours. "Are you seriously asking me if talking to our lawyer is illegal?"

"No," you rolled your eyes, a soft sigh escaping from your lips, "You know exactly what I mean. These are confidential, and I'm just not sure if... you know... we're allowed to use them to get an advantage in court."

Your eyes fell to Wonwoo's chest rising and dropping again heavily as he took a deep breath, adjusting his jacket.

"We got this information legally. We didn't steal it," he explained sternly, making sure that you were listening to him, "Sehun came to you, gave you this and that's it. It's an important part that we can't leave out when explaining it to the judge, but I'm gonna leave that to Jihoon. We'll see what he says." You nodded in understanding. Fidgeting with your fingers didn't help ease the nerves, but the CEO's words seemed to do a good enough job - at least a little bit.

It didn't feel right. The whole situation felt off. First, Sehun just showing up in your office and then just dropping such heavy info onto you, giving you everything you could possibly need to take down the worst enemy you had ever had to face in your entire life: Park Chanyeol. You trusted Sehun, there was no doubt of that. Whether that was a good thing or not, you didn't know just yet. Maybe you had been too forgiving too quickly and you were sure that Wonwoo would remind you of exactly that again, once you were back at the office. As if his rant back at his apartment wasn't already enough. Oh god,... that apartment. Too much had already happened there, and more shit just keeps piling up.

-

“Can I help you?”

The squeaky clean voice of the beautiful woman in front of you kept echoing in your brain. Beautiful doesn't even cover it. Gorgeous. Breathtaking. That's it. Breathtaking. Because that's exactly what she did to you.

The rain that had drenched your hair suddenly added so much more weight onto your head, making even the clothes on your body feel too tight. When did taking a breath become so difficult?

The raise of her eyebrows along with a tilt of her head brought you back as you just stared into her light-brown eyes, beautiful like soft caramel. Even her skin seemed too perfect to be true. Out of which fucking magazine did that woman just jump out? With that oversized sweatshirt hanging loosely on her body, it would most likely have been more of a YA novel rather than a magazine, but such a face could decorate the covers of each Vogue magazine across the world, and no one would question it.

You shook your head hesitantly, "S...Sorry," gulping hurt, "I- ehm-" Thank God, another voice interrupted you because who knows what would've come out of your mouth if you had continued.

"Jesus, Yeri, I told you not-" Wonwoo came to a sudden halt once his gaze stopped at your figure, standing in the hallway like a lost puppy. "Y/N? Why aren't you at the office?" Taking in your heavy breathing, and the wet clothes sticking onto your body, his eyes quickly found yours, "What happened?", immediately realising what was about to happen when you started shaking your head.

"Nothing," you quietly spoke, not trusting your voice to be any louder, "I... I'll get going... See ya," turning around, ready to make your way back to the elevator, back to the office building, back to your normal work day, or as normal as you could be after what had just happened. Not even two hours ago, this man was standing in front of you, his fingers tracing over your chin, desperately wanting to pull you closer and intertwine your souls. Even his ghost of a touch was still imprinted on your skin, making you want to scream. Not even eight hours ago, he was sitting down, looking up at you with those big brown eyes, almost begging at you. Admitting to his feelings, revealing the deepest of his feelings towards you. And now, not even ten seconds ago, he let it all fall. Every word he said, every sentence he spoke just evaporated into thin air.

Before you could let the tears in your eyes dwell up, a harsh yet soft tug at your wrist made you stop and turn back around, immediately faced with the body of the man you had become so familiar with, whether you liked it or not - this position didn't feel all too foreign to you.

"What's going on?"

His low voice mixed with his touch sent an electric wave through your body, yet you avoided his eyes, knowing exactly it would hurt too much. You rather kept your head down, looking at his hand wrapped around your wrist, shaking free from his grip.

"Nothing, forget it, I'll tell you later-"

"No," he stopped you, "Come on," and nodded towards his apartment since you were still not looking at him, he repeated the action you dreaded so much as his fingers found their place on your chin again to tap it, making you look up and move away from his touch. "Let's go inside."

You gulped, hugging the envelope closer to your chest, "No, it's fine, you seem-"

"Busy?" There was something teasing, yet slightly concerned, in the raise of his eyebrows. "She's my cousin."

"Hm?" You met his eyes quickly after the last word left his lips, which have slowly but surely curled up.

"Mh," he nodded, "Yeri's my cousin." He didn't let you intervene as you opened your mouth but just kept on talking, "My mum called her over to spend some time with her. On the way here, it started raining, so I gave her something warm to wear. They were just about leave, that's why she was close to the door and opened it even though I told her not to open it to anyone that doesn't use the bell downstairs, but oh well." He turned towards the open door, raising his voice slightly, "It's not like it's her first time here."

The female voice shouted a soft, "Sorry!" back, making him shake his head with a sigh, before catching your gaze again. You held your mouth tightly shut. Oh.

Locking eyes with him seemed too intense, explaining your drifting glances around the hallway that slowly fell to the floor, looking down at your shoes.

"You didn't have to explain that to me," you raised her head again, "I-... It's none of my business... you know..."

An almost chuckle escaped Wonwoo's mouth, just almost, with that stupid smirk still plastered proudly on his face. "Sure." Sharing a quick one-second glance at each other before he took the word again. "Would you like to come in now and explain what's going on?" So soft, so gentle. As if the person in front of you had just found out about the vulnerable side of you and was trying to speak as softly as possible to you.

You nodded, rushing past him without sending him another look, just praying to forget this scene had ever happened.

Chaewon was surprised to see you back at the apartment, but she got the message after a quick explanation that you and Wonwoo had to have an important discussion - 'business stuff' as he put it without even knowing the exact reason for your sudden appearance. 

After the two women had left, you took a seat at the dining table, putting the envelope down, expecting the CEO to sit down across from you when he suddenly disappeared.

"Wonwoo?" Your voice echoed through the apartment.

"Yeah? What?" He exited his bedroom and came back into the living space.

"What are you doing?" You wondered, nervously tapping your nails on the glass of the table.

He put the sweat-set he had carried from the room over to you onto the surface, nodding towards it, "Getting you something warm to wear."

You were quick to shake your head, "No, don't worry, it's fine," and pushed the envelope towards it, the sound of it scraping over the table scratching your ear, "You should see this."

"And you should put something on that's not drenched in water. Go change." You opened your mouth to protest, but he beat you to it, "I'll take a look, but you go. Now." With a sigh, you gathered the clothing into your grip as he mumbled, "I don't need you calling in sick to work tomorrow."

You rolled your eyes and were about to make your way to the bathroom when a comment tickled your tongue that you just couldn't let go. "You really enjoy giving away your clothes, huh?"

A deep sound that could be counted as a chuckle came from Wonwoo as he reached for the letters you had brought along. Once you were a few more feet away from him, he sighed, eyeing your figure disappearing in the bathroom, "To people I care about." Before you closed the door, a small smile appearing on your face.

-

You decided to leave your pants on as they were spared by the rain, unlike your top, but happily accepted the soft sweater Wonwoo had offered you, the name of his past university on wide display across your chest. Once you were back in the open living space, your eyes drifted to the dining table, expecting the CEO, but coming to sight with empty chairs. The pieces of paper were spread all over the glass, clearly only hastily looked at.

You were about to call out for Wonwoo, when his voice caught your attention, "Jesus Christ, Jihoon, pick up." Low and angered, just like you used to hear it all the time. Before. Before... all of this. It almost seemed unfamiliar to you, that's how long it must have been.

Turning to walk to the kitchen after hanging your wet clothing over one of the empty chairs and the sweatpants on the seat, you found said CEO leaning against the countertop. What caught your eyes though was the glass he had put up to his lips, throwing the brown liquid down his throat.

"Wonwoo, it's 9 am!" You called out, catching his attention. He threw his phone to the side with a clearly annoyed sigh and put the glass down, right next to the Whiskey Decanter.

Ignoring your exclaim, he raised his hand, gripping the pieces of paper tightly, wrinkling them harshly, "Are those real?"

The stern tone of his voice made you take a deep breath and reach forward in a hopefully somewhat calming manner, "Can I explain?" But that didn't calm him at all. Not in the slightest. He rushed past you.

"Yes, in the car. Put your shoes on."

"What?" You turned around, watching him hastily compiling all the evidence and stuffing everything into the brown envelope. He brushed past you once again, back into the kitchen to grab his phone before getting to the front door and slipping into his shoes.

"Jihoo's not picking up his fucking phone, so we're gonna go visit him. Come on," he nodded for you to come closer. You knew it wasn't the right time to ask any questions and just followed his order, right until he reached for his car keys. A slap on his hand made him flinch back.

"Are you insane? I just saw you jugging down Whiskey! You really think I'm gonna jump into a car with you now?" He was quick to shake his head, trying to get some sense back.

"Right, right... sorry," he opened the door, "You got your keys?"

You nodded, "Yeah, let's go," with a calm voice you pushed him out, praying this was gonna go at least somehow the way you expected it to go.

-

The elevator doors opened, bringing you back to the present as you thought back to the car ride where you had tried to explain everything that had happened in your office. Wonwoo had 'only' interrupted you about twenty times with 'what the fuck was he doing there?', 'Are you being for real right now?', 'you're fucking with me, right?', 'I'm gonna fire Jisoo, for fuck's sake'. A separate argument had started on behalf of that last statement of his as you tried to talk him out of that thought, but at that point, you had already reached Jihoon's law firm building, and everything was forgotten again as you stepped into the elevator and let silence overcome the two of you.

Just as you were about to step onto the designated floor, Wonwoo's call made you stop, "Y/N."

You turn around with a hum.

"Who did you think Yeri was?" Was that why he had been so quiet the entire elevator ride? Was he really gonna ask that now?

"What?" You scrunched your eyebrows, slightly shaking your head, "N-No one."

As the door wanted to close again, the CEO stepped forward, putting himself in between.

His eyes never left yours and you couldn't get yourself to break the intense stare you two shared.

"You still don't believe me?"

You shrugged softly, "Believe what?" There were more important things to discuss, was he really not gonna let this go?

"You thought Yeri was some girl I slept with. Be honest."

...

Yes. Yes, you did. Alright? And you hated it. Every fucking second of it.

"So what, Wonwoo," you barely whispered, "Can we go now?" Motioning towards the hallway. You didn't wait for an answer but just stepped forward, stopping at the extended arm suddenly in front of you.

"I meant what I said. Last night." Again, his eyes were still trained on you. Even with your gaze straight, you could feel his burning the side of your face, making you turn your head.

You nodded, your eyes drifting down to the floor, "I know. I did too." Your comment seemed to have calmed him as you could see his eyebrows relaxing and his eyes softening.

"But still, you..." You could tell, he himself wasn't sure where this was supposed to go, so you stopped him with your palm up.

"Can we talk about this later?"

Wonwoo nodded with a heavy breath leaving his nose. You were ready to walk forward, but his finger pointing at you made you stop once again.

"You're not gonna be able to walk away from this conversation forever, just so you know." With a roll of your eyes, you pushed his hand aside and walked past him, waiting for him in the hallway to show you the way.

Similar to your office building, you stepped through glass doors but came to a halt at what seemed to be like a reception.

"Oh, Mister Jeon," the voice of the woman behind the desk rushed through your ear, "Do you have an appointment with-"

"I'm sorry, but I need to see him now," he interrupted her quickly.

"He has a client in there, and I don't think he's free until-"

"No," he stopped her again, "I didn't ask. I want to see him. Now."

She nodded, "I understand, but I can't interrupt-"

"If you can't, I will," his tone grew more and more serious with every word falling from his lips, making you step closer to him, your soft hand finding its way to his shoulder.

"It's fine," you said out loud, everyone knowing it was more directed towards Wonwoo than to anyone else, "We can wait."

He shrugged off your touch, "No, we can't," and turned around without another sound, crossing the floor with quick steps, and running down the hallway as he definitely already knew the way to Jihoon's office.

"Wonwoo!"

"Mister Jeon!" The two of you that had stayed behind called out, before you looked at the woman with a gentle smile, "I'm sorry," but still went to rush after him. 

You caught up just as he opened the door to an office.

"Jihoon!" With a quick look inside, you were met with the surprised eyes of the man you were looking for and a second pair sitting right across from him, gazing at you in shock and confusion.

"Get out," Wonwoo motioned to the stranger to get up, "Come on."

"Wonwoo, I-" the lawyer tried to stop him, but the man in front of him was already standing up, clearly intimidated by the stature of the CEO. He almost bumped shoulders with you with the rush he was in, excusing himself quickly, not even daring to cross gazes with you.

"We have to talk," he sternly told Jihoon, throwing the envelope onto his desk.

The smaller man sighed, "And that can't wait?"

"No."

-

Wonwoo and you had taken a seat across from Jihoon, each in their own seat as your eyes were fixed on the man in front of you. You had wanted to start picking at your nail polish, but once you realised that it truly was all gone, your fingers found new entertainment by playing with the leather of the chairs. While you could practically hear and feel your heartbeat slowly coming up to your throat, your foot twitching out of nervosity, Wonwoo next to you seemed to be doing just fine. A deep breath would leave his lips every now and then as his gaze drifted around the room, taking in the decor on Jihoon's shelves and the big windows showing you the skyline of the city. After that became too boring for him, he stood up and started pacing around the room, clearly getting impatient by how long the lawyer was taking, which you could definitely relate to. One quick look at the digital clock on his desk though let you know that it had only been four minutes. Four long fucking minutes.

"So?" Wonwoo was the first to break the silence, making his friend sigh, look up and lean back in his chair. His eyes first fell on Wonwoo, but then travelled to you, suddenly a confused look written across his face.

"You went to Seoultech?"

"Hm?" You wondered, copying his facial expression before you lowered your head to where his gaze was fixed on. The sweatshirt. You forgot. "Oh, no," you stuttered, "I-It-"

"It's mine, not important," the CEO finished the explanation quickly, not wanting to dive further into the reason why you were wearing it, making Jihoon's eyebrows jump up in surprise. His change in expression went uncommented. "So, what do you say?" Wonwoo steadied his figure by placing his hands on the backrest of the chair he had sat in only a minute ago, not looking anywhere else but at the man whose opinion mattered the most at that very second.

"I think you know what I'm gonna say," he answered calmly.

"Well, I wanna hear it," Wonwoo argued back.

The lawyer sighed, "It's great evidence. Amazing even."

"Exactly," the younger man nodded with somewhat of a proud grin on his lips.

"But," Jihoon started again, catching both of your attention suddenly.

"But?" The CEO and you questioned in chorus. That was never a good start.

He gathered the papers together in his hands, waving them gently, "It's too good. And too much."

"What the fuck do you mean, too much?" Wonwoo didn't seem as confident anymore as before, annoyed by what he had to be confronted with. "That asshole did all of this, how could it be too much?!" You didn't miss the slight raise in his voice, neither did Jihoon, but he seemed unfazed by it.

"I mean it's too much." He stated once again. "You bring this amount of evidence to a judge out of nowhere, they're gonna start questioning it. All of it."

"So? Let them question it."

The shake of his head, made Wonwoo stop in his tracks. "That would give Chanyeol just more time to come up with something to fight this. Because he WILL find out that everything's getting delayed because of a sudden appearance of evidence the court needs to look through."

"Fuck that," the CEO shook his head with a deep mumble, followed by a sigh.

"How did you even get this?" Jihoon wondered, his eyes flicking between you two, waiting for an answer.

You lifted your head to find Wonwoo's gaze already on you. The soft nod towards the lawyer along with a gentle, "That's your story to tell," made you take a deep breath.

With your fingers holding on tightly to the sleeves of the sweater, you started, "Sehun came into the office today."

"Oh Sehun? Park's guy?" To which you nodded, but Jihoon had more questions, "Why? You know him too?"

"Yeah... he..." you tried finding the right words, "He used to be one of my best friends before... Chanyeol and I became a thing. So- I don't know, he just was there, sitting in my office with that envelope and told me to use it for the lawsuit."

"Just like that?"

"He feels really guilty for what they did," as much as you didn't want to defend him, since you knew the other party was still in the wrong, you couldn't help but let your feelings play into it, "He wants to be better than that them-"

"That sounds pretty sketchy to me, not gonna lie," Jihoon sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood up. Wonwoo was back to sitting down next to you, his eyes never leaving your side profile.

"It's not," you argued, "I trust him. Kinda..."

"Kinda?"

"I know that it's hard to believe, but if you knew him like I do, you'd trust him too. Of course, I don't want to put all of my trust into him and into this," you pointed at the papers on his desk, "But I do believe he meant what he said. He wants to take down Chanyeol just as much as we do. He's done with his bullshit."

"Alright," Jihoon nodded, "I'll take your word for that," and took a few steps closer to his desk again, suddenly separating the papers into two piles, "This," he pointed to the left one, "We can use. I'll get that to the judge as quickly as possible." Then turned to the right one, "But this. We can't use it like that."

You sat up straighter, trying to get a glimpse at what pieces of evidence he was talking about when you found the statements of the women Sehun had told you about.

"What?" You called out, "What do you mean, we can't use that? Are you kidding me? You just wanna throw that away?!" Your voice got louder with each sentence, desperation and shock lacing every word. Frustration started building up in your body like a slow fire spreading.

"Listen, we-"

"These women deserve to be heard! They had the courage to talk about what happened to them, and now you don't even want to use it?! You can't be serious right now..." The rough hand gently covering yours on the armrest of your chair made you take a deep breath. You didn't need to look down to feel the intensity.

"Jihoon," Wonwoo spoke up, much calmer than you, "Their statements are just as much evidence as that other shit-"

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is-"

"Not, it's not, Wonwoo!" Jihoon was the last person to raise their voice in the room, but it had to happen at some point. Before either of you could interfere, he continued, his tone much lower but not any less strict, "We know what law enforcement is like these days. You out of all us should know it the best," he pointed at the CEO, who shifted in his seat and his grip on your hand tightened. He hit a nerve with that. "What they're gonna do once they read through these is give that Park idiot a warning and those women some money because they think it's gonna make them feel better and forget everything that happened. This is their way of handling these types of situations these days, and it's not gonna benefit us in any way or bring Park down."

The three of you sat in silence. You understood now. Wonwoo did too. And Jihoon was right. When it comes to sexual assault cases, law enforcement was the worst to deal with it and whatever the outcome would be, it never benefited the women on the lower end.

"There's a big difference between the raid videos and the statements," the lawyer started again, sitting down opposite of you, "Here with have video evidence, which is VITAL in a case like this. Yes, videos can always be edited, but these idiots forgot that you have a watermark on all of your security camera footage, like smart people would." His comment almost made you chuckle, but it certainly made Wonwoo smile. "Statements won't get us far, that's the problem. They can be faked easily. They can even say we bribed these women to say bad shit about Park." You nodded in understanding. "But."

"Can you stop with these 'buts' and get to the fucking point?" Wonwoo started becoming impatient again, never breaking the cold demeanour you had become so used to.

Jihoon took the right pile of paper into his grasp, "Did you read through them?"

"Not all of them, why?" The CEO shook his head.

The smaller man sighed, "I figured," earning himself an unamused facial expression from his friend, "Some of these women stated that the sexual harassment happened at the workplace. There's no way we're getting camera footage from their office unless Sehun helps us with that, but that again could get us into some deep trouble as well," he explained, knowing he had both of your full attention. "But not all of them talk about their workplace. Some of them mention a club."

Wonwoo stared at him in confusion as he noticed the slightly smug look on the lawyer's face, "What club?"

Not giving him a verbal answer, Jihoon pushed the papers towards the two of you, making Wonwoo's hand lift from yours, leaving a cold empty space. It was only then that you noticed for how long his warm palm was covering your entire hand. The man next to you got a hold of the papers, reading through them quickly until his eyes stopped and what he was looking for.

"The Monbebe..."

"The Monbebe," Jihoon nodded with a smirk, a pen of his now in between his fingers as he played with it.

Wonwoo shook his head in slight annoyance or disappointment, you weren't sure, "Fuck..."

Your eyes switched between the two men, hoping someone would explain what had just happened, but since neither of them continued, you decided to speak up, "What's the Monbebe?"

Wonwoo was quick to answer, "A club downtown."

"And part of our past," the lawyer continued, a subtle smirk daring to escape on his face.

"Jihoon. Don't." The CEO looked up, glaring at his friend. But he just rolled his eyes.

You didn't miss the sudden change in the atmosphere that ran across the room, the tension that had started to build up again, and you couldn't help but let your curiosity win over, "W-What do you mean?" Eyes on Jihoon first, but when he pointed towards Wonwoo, you switched to look at him, "What does he mean?"

The man next to you shook his head as he threw the papers back onto the table with a huff, "Nothing, it's not important."

"Oh, it is VERY important," Jihoon contended.

"No, it's not, you fucking know I don't want to have anything to do-"

"You can't run from your past, Wonwoo!" The two men started to argue. You stayed seated, watching the heat in both of their eyes as they took a trip down memory lane, to a memory that Wonwoo seemed to want to forget.

The CEO stood up with an angry breath leaving his lips, "That was never supposed to be my past! Or any of our pasts! You forgot about that?! Oh sorry, my bad, just because it got deleted from your record, you're just gonna pretend like it was fine what happened back then?!"

"Don't start with that," Jihoon, now also standing as a defence mechanism, pointed a finger at his friend, "I'm not the one trying to erase everything that happened. Yes, it wasn't okay, but like I said, it's in the past, Wonwoo." He shook his head with a sigh, "Jesus Christ... I'm not saying you should go back there and become their best fucking friend."

"Then what exactly are you trying to say, Sir lawyer?!" Wonwoo spat those words at his face, almost sounding like he was holding them against said lawyer.

"Will you let me finish for once?"

The CEO raised his arms in defence and motioned for the other to continue talking. You just hoped to soon get out of this misery of the unknown.

Jihoon took a deep breath, taking a look out of the window before turning his attention back to you, "I told you. The security camera footage that Sehun brought you won't be a problem. That's good evidence. But the statements are not enough-"

"You already said that," Wonwoo interrupted him, earning him a glare from both you and Jihoon, receiving an annoyed sigh in return.

"BUT, we know that the Monbebe has security cameras all over that freaking place, and those also have a watermark, meaning that the judge and everyone else would look through, but they wouldn't question the sincerity of the footage. Because those are harder, if not, impossible to fake in the period ever since it happened to now."

"And... how do we get to this security footage?" You had started picking on the fabric of the chair again, still not feeling an ounce of casualty or calmness yet.

Jihoon dared to look at his friend from across the room for a split second before answering, "That's why I mentioned our past," looking at his shoes and meeting your eyes again, "We-"

"She doesn't have to know everything," Wonwoo stopped him sternly, taking the last piece of patience you had with those final words. You shot up from your seat and turned your entire body towards him,

"I'm in this shit as much as you are! So yes, I do in fact have to know everything, are you kidding me?! While you two have been fighting over God knows what shitty past you have, I've been sitting here and just listening to this, not knowing what the fuck is going on. So you better start telling me about this right now! I've had to tell you everything about Chanyeol as well-"

"That's not the same!" With a few quick steps, Wonwoo got dangerously closer to you, "Your fuckhead of ex-boyfriend is suing our company, so I think I'm damn well entitled to know who the fuck he is and why he's doing that!"

"Yes, and now this is also part of that whole fucking trial, that I'm in as well, so stop arguing and start fucking talking," you had lowered your voice, remembering that there was still another person in the room with you and you were in fact in an official law firm, holding multiple other lawyers that worked next to yours.

Wonwoo couldn't tear his eyes off you, but the same went for you. He captivated you once again. So easily. And he didn't even try.

"The owners of the club are old friends of ours," Jihoon spoke up, making you turned towards him, but you still caught the sigh escaping the other man's lips as he shook his head,

"Friends..."

"They were." The lawyer repeated, much sterner this time and definitely directed at Wonwoo.

"Exactly, there WERE."

"But they'd still help you," Jihoon argued, "If they saw you at the Monbebe, you don't think they'd want to talk?"

The CEO nodded with a smirk, "OH, I know they'd want to talk, but I wouldn't let them finish whatever the fuck they're gonna say."

"Well then, you're gonna have to learn to in order to get those security camera videos."

You switched your weight from one leg to the other as you crossed your arms, "You think they're just gonna give us that footage?"

Jihoon motioned you a clear 'no' with his head, "No, not just like that. But if that idiot over there could get the stick out of his ass, I'm sure they'd be more willing to do it... Maybe bring Mingyu along too. They always got along with him the best."

Your gazes switched between the annoyed CEO and the calm but smug-looking lawyer, while you stood in the middle, unsure of what was to come next. Wonwoo was for sure not going to take the next word as his friend's last sentence was still running through his mind. You decided to take the initiative to get out of this situation as quickly as possible.

"So...?" Eyeing the two men, "What are we gonna do?"

Jihoon took a seat behind the desk again, leaning back in the chair, looking straight at you, "You might want to go shopping."

"What?" You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion, "Why?"

 A quick glance at Wonwoo made the smile on his face only go wider, "The Monbebe is... how would you put it, Wonwoo?"

"Don't." The other man growled, catching you off guard, but Jihoon chuckled.

"It's... a very special kind of club. With... a very special audience."

But that only fed into your confusion.

-

"You’re kidding.” You stated matter-of-factly, rather than as a question, gazing at Wonwoo with raised eyebrows. Your eyes travelled to the dress he held by the hanger. Scratch that. Piece of cloth, that’s what it was. You could not call that a dress or any type of clothing, just something that should represent a form of shorts? Undergarment? A small little cover of some sort with a top not wider than a headband.

“Underwear has more fabric than that.” Your comment made him chuckle, followed by a roll of his eyes.

“You wanted to find out what the Monbebe was all about. And I hate to break it to you, but this is exactly what women that go to that club would wear. Although this here is already very modest for that kind of club.” He put it back on the clothing line and continued walking behind you as you passed multiple other racks filled with not much different attire than he had just held in his hands.

“I don’t want to find out what that club is like, especially after what you told me, but if Jihoon thinks we could get the security footage by talking to them, or with you talking to them, then I’d say let’s give it a try,” you explained while continuing your search of something appropriate to wear.

He swallowed the ball that had formed his throat, "You know if you'd just stay at home like I proposed-"

"No," you turned around too quickly for him to react, catching him off-guard as you pressed your fingers into his chest, "Don't even start with that shit again. We're in this mess because of me." Before you could continue, Wonwoo wrapped his much bigger hand over yours, releasing your finger from touching him, but keeping you just as close as he leaned down.

"And you don't even start with THAT. We're in this because your ex is a fucking moron. This could've happened to anyone he wanted to fucked over."

You shared two more seconds of silence, just gazing into each other's eyes before a voice tear you apart again.

"Hi," she screeched into your ear, "Can I help you find something?"

"N-"

"Yeah, we're looking for something for her to wear to the Monbebe," Wonwoo answered for you, earning himself a quick glare from you that just made him nudge you towards the direction the over-motivated lady was heading.

"Oooh! Special night, I see, I see," she rushed over to a corner you didn't even dare to look at, already sensing the 'not my style' vibes from miles away. "Well," she picked out the first outfit, as skimpy as it could get, "You can never go wrong with a classic black bodysuit."

"That- That's not really what I was going for, you know?"

She shoved it back on the rack, nodding quickly, "Alright, alright, well then, what exactly were you looking for?" Her big caramel eyes were digging holes into your soul, almost making you want to give in and just go with whatever fabric would cover the most important parts of your body. What a great selling strategy...

"Something...." you started motioning around your body, trying to think of the right way to say out loud what was going on in your head, "that maybe looks a little bit more like... clothing?"

The questioning tilt of her head made you sigh in frustration, but Wonwoo was quick to come to the rescue.

"Maybe more coverage. More fabric."

You nodded, holding in a deep breath, "Yeah... that would be great," looking back at the woman, who just stared blankly at you, blinking with her big eyelashes.

"More coverage? For the Monbebe?"

"I already explained that to her, but... yeah," the CEO nodded in defeat.

The sales assistant seemed to think for a few seconds before clapping her hands, "Okay okay, I think I may have a few pieces, but I'm gonna have to check the back. How about you go take a seat in the changing rooms, and I'll get back to you once I've got something."

The two of you went off on your own, trying to find the changing rooms that were on their individual floor, where you were welcomed by two other women, who just couldn't keep their eyes off the man by your side. You'd like to say it didn't bother you, that you didn't even notice the way their eyes basically undressed him before they turned to each other only to start whispering and giggling like little school girls. Oh, what you'd do to be able to think like that. But that was not the case. You didn't like their gazes on him. You couldn't help but try to stay as close to him as possible. He must've noticed at that point. And that thought made you want to crawl into a hole and never come out again. You prayed he couldn't tell how your heart had started speeding up anytime he had more or less accidentally touched you. You begged he didn't notice the chill running down your spine, making the hair on your body spike up when he would bend down to whisper something in your ear. 

But he did. He observed you like homework. He wanted to be able to read you better than anyone else. And he wasn't going to be subtle about it - why should he? He had already confessed almost on his knees to you, what else was there to lose? You already held his heart and his dignity in your soft hands, whether you knew about that yet, he wasn't sure, but he was going to find out. There was no doubt about that.

You had taken a seat in one of the dressing rooms, the curtain still open, giving you a perfect view of Wonwoo, who was sitting right in front of you, making himself comfortable on the soft cushions in the middle of the room, probably specifically made for the boyfriends to wait for their girlfriends. Or rather sugar daddies that would wait for their sugar babies to put on a show for them in the dress they would be getting just for them.

"Sooo...," you wanted to break the stillness and tension that had started building up, "What exactly is the dress code for the Monbebe?"

He leaned back slightly, the upwards shift of his hips didn't go unnoticed by you, making you take a deep breath in. "You want mine or the official one?" Wonwoo had his head turned to the side, leaving you to stare at the sharp line of his jaw.

"What?"

He looked at you. Gazed at you.

"Come as you are. Be and feel free. Don't hide. That's how they word it."

"And yours...?"

A sigh tumbled from his lips, "Skimpy. As less as possible to give us easy access."

You scrunched your eyebrows at his comment, "Us?"

He met your eyes with a guilty look, "Men." You nodded. Right... you remembered the explanation of him in the car. What the Monbebe club was. A whorehouse basically. The more known and official designation was 'Gentlemen Club' but everyone knew what it really was. You felt the sick feeling in your stomach come back when your mind brought you back to that part of your conversation.

"So, prostitution?"

"Pretty much," Wonwoo had looked out of the window the entire ride, not even sending you a quick glance.

"But," you swallowed at the hard fact that was reality, "I mean, it's definitely not legal, but the police doesn't care about it, right? They just seem to turn blind when it comes to that. Those women know what they're doing, so... why do Jihoon and you talk so bad about it?"

"Because they don't." You stopped at a red light and turned to face him, answering him with a questioning hum, hoping to get his attention. He did change his line of sight but kept his head straight ahead, still not meeting your eyes. "It's not consensual prostitution."

Oh.

"I mean," he cleared his throat uncomfortably, "In a way, it is because they're the ones who come to Monsta X to start working there, but... their... clients... and visitors... they can do whatever the fuck they want with those women. And they can cry as loud as they want... it doesn't bother those pigs. If anything, it only turns them on even more."

You had heard enough.

Disguised as a club with a bar, but in the back was where the 'fun' for the visitors truly was at. Wonwoo had also mentioned something about a fighting/boxing business even further down into the basement, but he didn't want to go into further detail about that area of the entire building, hoping that he'd be able to keep the two of you as far from it as possible.

"But I'm not working there," you told the CEO as he crossed his arms, watching your legs that you crossed, "Why should I dress the same as the women that do?"

"Do you think they care? The people that go there do not give a fuck about who officially works there and who doesn't. They just try to get their hands on anyone that's available and the Monstas need to uphold their honour in the industry." He explained. You could tell he didn't enjoy talking about this which seemed to have been a part of his past at some point. It scared you. He hadn't told you how he had gotten involved with them just yet, but you were terrified to find out. Scared of what side of him would be revealed to you. It seemed like such an unlikely place for a man like him to be, for any of his friends that you had met so far, so you were curious to find out more.

"But...," the start to your question made him look up, "If they're so infamous for such things, how did you guys-"

"Alright!" The familiar voice of the saleswoman rang through your ear, making you stand up. With four steps, you were out of the dressing room, only to stop right next to Wonwoo, but with your eyes on the lady, or rather the stuff hanging on her arm. The questionable things hanging on her arm. Your eyes caught some glitter, some pearls, and... chains?! "I know, I know, some of it might not look THAT good at first, but just try it on and trust me, okay?" She beamed the brightest possible smile at you, her bleached teeth blinding you as you unsurely nodded, opening your arms to get the pieces of clothing handed over. She brushed past you and hung everything on the hangers on the wall before stepping out again,

"I'm gonna leave you two to it, but if you need anything else you can just ring that bell over there," and pointed towards what looked like a light switch. With one last, what you presumed to be, fake smile, she left you two to have the entire floor to yourself.

"Wonwoo...," you gasp-whispered as your gaze travelled across the fabric hanging on the wall.

The CEO shot up from his seat, with one big step closer to the dressing room, pretty much standing inside of it with you, "What? What's wrong?" You didn't notice the slight worry in his voice as you were still trying to calm yourself from the embarrassment you were about to experience as soon as you would put on any of these things.

"What?" He repeated.

You shook your head, "I-I don't know..."

"What do you mean?" He kept on digging for a proper answer from you, but you just stared at him with a blank expression.

"This. This dress. All of them. No." The words fell quickly from your lips before you could even think of properly forming sentences.

"Y/N...," he spoke softly, "You haven't even tried any of them on-"

"Look at them!" 

"I am," he calmly answered you.

You motioned at them wildly with your hands, "Well then, you should see the problem."

"Look," the man sighed once again, "I told you, it's their fucking dress code, if I could change it, I would. Trust me."

"I knowww," you whined, a defeated breath of air leaving your lips. Wonwoo was patient with you. Too patient. But at some point, it had to be over.

"You know, I can still do this on my own-"

"On it," you were quick to interfere, pushing him out of the dressing room, making him fake gasp,

"I don't even get the full show?" You revealed your face from behind the curtain with a scolding expression.

"Watch your mouth, mister." Leaving him with a smirk on his lips to fall back onto the cushioned seats.

Two minutes later, the curtain was pulled back again as your head out, finding his eyes immediately. Before he could even open his mouth, you started,

"I look ridiculous."

He couldn't help but grin at you, "I highly doubt that." Wonwoo couldn't lie, his position was making him excited. The thought of what the clothing this particular store was selling would look like on your body made his own react in ways he wished it wouldn't.

You shook your head, the blush evidently on your cheeks, "You can't see me like this." But that only made him chuckle as he leaned forward, letting his forearms rest on his upper thighs.

"I think we've crossed that boundary a few times already, don't you?" He teased. You knew the answer. But you kept your mouth shut and just motioned him 'no' once again.

"Still."

"Come on," you tilted his head, but you stood your ground, sending him a blank facial expression, "What? You're getting shy now? It's too late for that."

With a sigh, you disappeared again, mumbling a loud enough, "I hate you," for him to hear, making him grin. 

That smirk got wiped off his face as you surprised him by stepping out of the dressing room fully, standing in a skimpy little black lingerie dress in front of him. A dress that pushed your boobs up so much, they almost quelled out of the cups, and your boobs had never been THAT big.

Wonwoo whistled, "Well, hello," his eyes were clearly not on your face.

"Stoooop," you whined, hands coming up to clasp your breasts in defence, hoping to hide a little bit.

He chuckled, "What? I said hello," raising his arms in defence.

You squinted your eyes at him, "I know who you said hello to," hands still on your boobs. The chuckling continued. He couldn't help it. He couldn't hide it.

"And what were you so worried about?" Wongoo genuinely wondered as he kept eyeing you up and down, he really tried to stop but it was almost as if his eyes moved on their own.

You sighed and turned back to take a look in the mirror, your backside now facing him, not making it any better for the poor man in the chair. He decided to stand up to not have your ass on perfect eye level and was only graced with the beauty of your reflection.

Your hands caressed the dress, trying to get every single crease out of it. "I mean-," you breathed out in frustration, "just look at it! The fabric is way too thin, my boobs are on the verge of falling out and one wrong move and I'm flashing my ass to everyone."

"I'm not complaining," he grinned, hoping to get a similar reaction from you, which you gave him, but it quickly changed to a shake of your head.

"Clearly." Wonwoo didn't like the tone of your voice. He knew it all too well. It reminded him of his mother. All the times she would check her reflection in any passing mirror, trying to fix every hair that was possibly laying wrongly on her head. Any tiny smudge of her makeup had to get corrected, and every inch of her body had to either be hidden or look fit and young.

The comments of his father rang through his memory. The words he had thrown at his mother as she, slowly but surely, aged like beautiful fine wine, much to the dismay of his father, who had looked like the molerat he had always been. He hated the way his mum saw herself. Just because that asshole couldn't keep his mouth shut. Wonwoo promised himself to never make that same mistake.

"Well," he wanted to touch you, oh so badly, but he kept his hands to himself. For now. "If my opinion is of any importance to you, I think you look beautiful. But so did you in my old ass university sweater, so I don't know how much of help I really am."

You raised your head, meeting his gaze in the mirror, sending him a shy and tight smile as you grasped the seem of the dress tightly. God... why was he doing this to you. Well, you knew it. He had told you. He told you exactly what he was thinking, so, you knew. But what were you going to do with that information?

"Thank you," you softly told him, to which he just nodded. "But I still don't feel comfortable in this."

"Then let's try to find something you at least find somewhat comfortable to wear," he suggested kindly, sitting back down as you went back into the dressing room, pulling the curtain close before you released a heavy breath.

-

"They can't be serious about this," you commented as you stepped out in your now fifth dress. ...Dress? If you could call it that. It was much rather just a bunch of chains that were intertwined with each other, creating something you could throw over your upper body.

Wonwoo looked up from his phone, putting it back into his pocket immediately. 

"Why are you wearing underwear with that?" He exclaimed, getting a wide-eyed stare from you in return.

You stuttered, "Wh- Am I- Am I supposed to just go bare?!"

"Well, with this, clearly," he stated like it was the most obvious answer possible.

You crossed your arms, "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He didn't answer you verbally but just shrugged, making you roll your eyes with a chuckle.

"But this is actually something that a woman would wear to the Monbebe," he quickly added before you could disappear again.

"This?" You pointed to yourself, "Without underwear? Seriously?"

Wonwoo kept quiet for a few seconds, eyes interlocked with yours, before sighing, "I know, you don't actually want me to answer that." You nodded.

With the curtain closed, you started to get undressed again.

"You know," the CEO stated, "The more time we spent here and the more dresses you try on, the less I enjoy the idea of you coming along," he decided to just throw out the facts as they were. He didn't like it at all. He was almost terrified. Almost.

"Well, too bad," you got the dress off and put it back on the wall, "Because you're not getting rid of me now." You could hear the quiet mumble from outside but couldn't make out what he said. But you knew better than to ask him and just decided to let it pass.

Standing half naked in front of the dresses, you realised that the fifth one had been the last, and now you were left in your underwear, gazing at the clothing in desperation.

"You okay?" Wonwoo had gotten up and walked towards the curtain, his voice now closer than before.

You sighed, "That was the last one. Last dress."

"So then? Which one is it gonna be?" He wondered, only adding to your frustration.

"I don't know," you soughed, running a hand through your hair, "No fucking idea..."

"What about that third one," the CEO suddenly suggested, "You said that wasn't too bad, right? I think it was the best out of all of them."

You reached out to look for the mentioned piece of clothing, getting it out and hanging it at the front once you had found it, studying it with your arms crossed.

"But you said it had too much fabric on it," you argued.

"Mh, guess why it was my favourite," he commented back, almost getting a chuckle out of you. "Do you need help?" His question made you grin.

"No!" You shouted back, "Don't you dare come in here." Looking at the curtain as it started moving, you found fingers creeping in and grasping the seem of the hanging fabric, making you jump forward and slap it before poking your head out.

"Won-" you hisses but stopped as soon as you realised just how close you were all of a sudden. This position felt familiar with him. Too familiar. You could feel his breath on your lips, and you did not mind at all. It was too close and yet not close enough.

"Are you sure, you don't need any help?" He whispered.

The breath that left your lips was clearly shaky, yet you hoped he didn't notice. Although... maybe it wouldn't be too bad if he did notice it... right?

You smiled shyly, "Yes... thank you."

Wonwoo copied your facial expression, "Look how considered I am."

"Mh," you hummed with a nod, "May I go back and change now?"

"I'm not stopping you," he stated, smirking, knowing damn well what he was doing. Without another noise, you were about to close the curtain fully again. "Y/N," but his soft voice stopped you and made you look back at him. Why did he still have to be so close?

"This morning," he started, "What did you want to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"In the kitchen. Before we got interrupted." He didn't take his eyes off of yours, but you couldn't help but to lower your gaze, feeling intimated by his question. The gentle touch of his finger made you lift your head again, "I think there's something we need to catch up on." The almost kiss. Before Binna ruined your pretty much perfect morning. Was he so caught up on that? The memory made you grin. Oh how bad you wanted to kiss him. You still wanted to. Damn you Wonwoo...

"You really want to do this here?"

"A beautiful woman is half-naked in front of me. What more could I ask for?" His comment received a soft chuckle from you, "But I want you to do it. Because you want to, not because you feel like you have to."

"Wonwoo...," another whisper escaped your lips as you could feel yourself leaning more into him, now only millimetres away from his lips. He noticed it too.

"I just need to know that you want to," he copied your tone, his hand coming up to brush your hair on the side of your face.

You would've trusted your heart to stop right then and there. It was beating so hard, it had to be close to exploding. Your breathing had quickened, the adrenaline rushing through your body just like you had missed it.

You nodded so very gently, someone could've missed it, "I want to." Earning an even wider grin from Wonwoo.

"Well then," he just answered, not moving from his position, waiting for you to continue. You knew what you had to do. And yes God, it didn't matter how much of a mistake this maybe was, you were about to do it. Just one last time, you dared to look down at the man's lips, before meeting his gaze again. That was the last thing you saw as you closed your eyes and finally closed the small gap between the two of you. Finally. It had been way too long. Well, at least it felt like it. The soft moans coming from both of you just emphasized that. Finally, you felt his lips move against yours again. His hand held your cheek, his thumb brushing smoothly over your skin, trying to pull you in closer while you had a tight grasp on the curtain, hiding your body from the chest down. It didn't matter that you were in the middle of a clothing store. You could not give less of a fuck. What mattered was the man in front of you with his lips on yours, keeping you as close as he possibly could. The lips you had found so much comfort in.

Whatever this was... it was complicated, yes. But you were so ready to find out what exactly it was and how you could make it work. Finally ready. 

You pulled back before it could get any more heated, out of breath, your eyes met again. You bit down on your lip as he opened his mouth.

"I meant what I said last night."

You looked down with a soft grin, "How often are you gonna say that?"

"Until you believe me," he stated, finding your hand that was still choking the fabric of the curtain. 

Your gazes met. His once cold and dark eyes had turned so soft. The face you had once wanted to avoid at all cost had become so warm and comforting to you. You felt seen. You felt safe.

The subtle nod of his head brought you out of your trance, "Go change, we gotta get ready for later."

You turned around, careful to not let go of the curtain, taking the clothing hanger with the 'dress' into your hands, "Okay, take that for a second, we still gotta pay for that. I'll-"

"Alright done." He grasped the dress and took a few steps back to give you some space again.

"What?" Your question made him look up, "When?"

"I gave them my card and told them which dress you're gonna take," Wonwoo got a hold of his phone, just shrugging his shoulders, looking as comfortable as ever while you were still desperately hiding your body behind a curtain.

You squinted, "How did you know which dress I was gonna pick?"

He stared at you with his soft gaze, "You really think I would've let you pick any of the others?"

-

Already out of breath, you kept running through your apartment, trying to find the pieces of accessories you were looking for, groaning when they weren't in the bathroom, or your bedroom. You rushed into the living room, hoping you had maybe left them on the coffee table, but no luck. You had been looking for your earrings for at least ten minutes. Ten long minutes. After showering and literally shaving every single inch of your body, you had taken the time to do your makeup better than ever before, but now the problem was something else. Fucking earrings.

The shoes you should wear were already waiting for you in the hallway, along with the little black bag you had decided on. With one last groan, you chose to forget about the accessory and went back into the bedroom to finally put on the dress as you were sure Wonwoo would be here in no less than five minutes.

You took it out of its cover, revealing the beautiful stitch it had, along with the chains and pendant attached to it. It was gorgeous. Hot. Nothing you'd ever wear anywhere outside, not even a nightclub - and you had been to clubs before.

Putting in on seemed easier back at the store, you realized as you tried to close the last hook in the back. God dammit... why did expensive clothing also have to be so extra.

The ringing of your phone caught you off guard, making you have to walk into the living room again, where it had sat on the sofa. Wonwoo's name lit up the phone screen as you accepted the call, still trying to somehow get that freaking dress to close.

"Hello?"

"Hey, you can come down, we're here."

"Ehm...," you thought about it for a good second before continuing, "Could you maybe come up?"

"Why?" His voice was laced with confusion, and a little bit of worry, "Are you okay?"

You quickly assured him, "Yeah yeah yeah, I just... I need help with this dress, I ca-"

"On my way."

"Thank you," a gentle smile crept its way onto your face, "Fourth floor, ap-"

"I know." Were you ever going to be able to finish sentences with that man around? Who knew.

Not even two minutes later, there was a knock on your door, letting you know he had arrived. With your hands still behind your back, you entered the hallway, opening the door just a little to make sure that it, in fact, was who you were waiting for.

"Hi," you beamed brightly at him.

"Hey," your facial expression made him chuckle. He was about to ask you something else, but the sight of your entire figure in front of him made him stop, "Wow..."

You rolled your eyes as you felt the heat in your cheeks come up, "Don't."

"What? Am I not allowed to compliment a beautiful-looking woman." You didn't know what to say. What do you answer to a comment like that just being thrown at you? Multiple of those comments as a matter of fact. 

Wonwoo's eyes fell on your hands that were holding onto the piece of clothing in the back. He took a step forward to get closer to you, making you almost breathe out at the sudden close distance when he put his hands on your shoulders to turn you around. His hands replaced yours. "You're gonna have to get used to me complimenting you."

You shrugged, "I just don't know how to react."

"Then you're gonna learn," he placed his palm on your lower back, "Done." You turned back around to meet his gaze.

"What if I don't want to?" The teasing question even surprised you, but for some reason, it felt fitting. And God did it feel good.

He grinned, his eyes running down your hair, his fingers followed, "You'll have to." Making you roll your eyes with a shy smile,

"You don't look too bad yourself, Mister Jeon." You brushed an invisible piece of lint off his suit jacket. Seeing him in suits every day at work didn't change the excitement that crept up your stomach at the sight of him in this clearly much more expensive anorak. All black.

"Shoes on." You nodded at the demand and brushed past him to bend down, forgetting how short your dress actually was. Only when you felt the sudden wash of cold over your clothed core, you shot up again, taking the shoes to the little stool you had placed in the hallway. Wonwoo waited patiently for you, watching you put on one shoe when he bent down onto one knee, taking the other shoe into his hand before moving to put it on your foot.

"Thank you," you told him, watching his fingers move so gently and skillfully over your skin, trying to make sure he tied the strings of the heels just the same way you did with the other one.

With a pat on your leg, he let you know he was finished, looking up to smile at you. If you hadn't been sitting down, you for sure would've melted to the floor at the look on his face. When had the cold-hearted bachelor turned so soft?

"Ready?"

You shifted in your seat, sitting up straighter, moving closer to him unknowingly as you put your hands underneath your thighs, trapping them between skin and cushion.

"I don't know," you let him know in full honesty, shaking your head in the process.

"As long as you stay next to me, you'll be fine. Alright?" He tried to find your eyes as you looked away, not being able to shake the unweary feeling you had about this whole situation you were about to run into. "I won't let anyone there touch you. I promise." His hand on your knee assured you even more of his statement. He promised. You knew he meant it.

With a nod, you agreed, "I know."

For a few more seconds the two of you stayed in your positions, sharing gazes as you watched his eyes go from concerned to reassuring to... something you couldn't quite put your finger on. So much had happened over the past few months for you to sit right there with the man in front on his knees. Just like he told you... 

"What?" His question brought you back, making you shake your head,

"Nothing, let's go." You stood up to walk past him, but his hand on your naked leg stopped you when he stood back up, only to let it travel up slowly, knowing damn well what it did to you when he caught your eyes again, and your lips slightly parted.

"What was that look on your face?" Again, he tried to dig deeper. You shook your head. But you knew there was no escape from him. If he wanted something, he'd get it.

His fingers grasped your chin to make you look at him. You were quick to wrap your hands around his wrist, ready to pull back whenever you wanted to. If you ever wanted to. 

The raise of his eyebrows let you know that he wouldn't move until you answered his question in proper words, so you took a slightly deeper breath.

"I was just trying to read you."

You saw his eyes falling to your lips before meeting your gaze again. "You don't have to try to read me. Just ask me."

A quick look down at your shoes got you the small amount of confidence that would hopefully be enough for what you were about to do.

"Can I ask you something?" You whispered.

He nodded, "Everything," lowering his voice to match yours.

You swallowed, tightening your grip on his wrist, as your heartbeat quickened, "Can you kiss me?"

He grinned right away and didn't waste a second to pull you in, only stopping when your lips brushed against each other before he whispered, "You don't have to ask for that."

You could've cried if you wanted to. The emotions had been building up for too long, and there were oh so close to spilling out of you.

The passion his lips wrote all over yours let the tingle in your stomach errupt. The butterflies were finally freed from their cage, letting an exciting chill run across your entire body. God... it felt so good. Too good. His warmth made you feel finally safe again. You felt... loved. Truly loved. Cared for. Anything you could ask for. Right there in front of you.

But all good must come to an end, and so did this kiss.

Wonwoo smiled all so gently at you again, his thumb caressing the faded touch of his lips left on yours, almost making you moan.

"Ready?"

But even in your dizzy state, you were able to hear him. You saw him. You felt him.

You answered him with a nod, followed by a soft, "Yeah."

-

In the car, driven by Hongseok, on the way to the club, the two of you had fallen into a comfortable small-talk-like conversation. Wonwoo let you know about the day in the office run by Mingyu as the two of you had been busy. He also informed you that the co-CEO would not be joining you that evening since he "never wants to ever put another foot into the cursed, run by the devils themselves, building", as he had worded it apparently.

The man's rough hand was on your naked thigh throughout the entire drive. It wasn't uncomfortable. Not at all. It didn't even make you nervous. It just made you feel safe. But you couldn't hide the shaky breath tumbling from your lips whenever he'd start moving that freaking thumb over your skin. Fucking tease.

Before you knew it, Hongseok notified you of your arrival, making the breath get stuck in your throat. You were about to enter a lion's den. A literal hell, just like Mingyu had put it. If it wasn't for the CEO next to you, you would've already had the worst nervous breakdown of your life, but his presence assured you. He wouldn't let anything happen to you. He promised.

The driver opened the door for you and you were greeted with a mix of blue, red, and purple light blinding your eyes once you stepped out, Wonwoo's hand right there to help and steady you before his moved to the small of your back, leading you forward. You two thanked Hongseok and wished him a good evening before he disappeared again, but not without sending you a warm smile.

You walked ahead, stopping a few feet away from the bouncer in front of the big, fancy-decorated doors. There was no line, which surprised you, but they probably wouldn't want to catch too much attention, you explained to yourself.

"Jeon," the big man suddenly exclaimed, making you jump at the tone of his voice. Not welcoming, that was for sure. "The fuck are you doing here?"

"Good to see you too Sidae," Wonwoo nodded at him, changing the placement of his hand as it was suddenly in front of you, making you pause in your tracks.

"Why are you here?" The man was not about to let you two off easily, you could tell. His eyes came to you, running up and down your body, sending an uncomfortable chill down your spine.

The CEO closed the button on his jacket, "I need to talk to them."

The doorman was quick to shake his head, crossing his arms in front of his massive chest. "They're gonna talk to you."

"And how would you know that?" Wonwoo argued back, earning himself a growl from the man in front of you to which your arms snaked over his, trying to keep close to him. His hand immediately found yours, hoping to give you some form of comfort.

"Do I have to remind you of what happened the last time you and your friends were here? The mess you idiots left." His comment made you scrunch your eyebrows in question. Wonwoo hadn't told you everything. He didn't want you to know the entire story of this part of his past. But slowly more and more was coming to the surface, whether he wanted to or not.

The CEO looked around, "Am I here with my friends? I don't see them anywhere," annoying the bouncer just a tad bit more, "Just me. And I just want to talk."

The big man in front of you nodded towards you, "And her?"

"You really think she's gonna start something?"

"I don't trust any bitches you bring along," he commented, earning a warning glare from Wonwoo.

"Careful with your words, man. I'd better shut my mouth if I were you." Even though the man was double Wonwoo's size, he didn't seem intimidated in the slightest. The past they shared together must add to that.

The bouncer sighed, before turning to the barricade, opening it and motioning for you two to go through. The man on your arm took a step first, making you follow. You didn't get far though as the doorman stopped you by grabbing Wonwoo harshly by the arm.

"If I hear anything about you starting God knows what shit, it's over for you, Jeon." If you hadn't gotten the message before, you sure as hell got it now. You gulped. Wonwoo just nodded relaxed, opening the door to let you go in first, but he was still hot on your step.

Immediately, loud music and darkness, only lit up by the same colour as outside surrounded you. While the entrance was empty, only men lined up next to each other, one bigger than the one next to them - must've been bouncers too - the open space, functioning as a dance floor was FILLED. You didn't think another person could fit into the mass. The bar to the side was fairly empty too, with only a few men sitting there, waiting for one of the women that walked through the room to stop by their side.

Your eyes widened when you saw the outfits. That's what Wonwoo meant... Those were rarely clothes... not even underwear... you guess they were supposed to be covers, but they hardly covered anything. There were a few women in another corner that were wearing slightly more, but still not enough for a normal nightclub in your opinion. You felt out of place. Wildly out of place.

Wonwoo was next to you again within a second, taking your hand and taking it to loop your arm with his.

"Just follow me, okay?" He shouted over the loud music, to which you nodded.

He took you to the right and right before you passed the bar, he brought you in front of him, his hands securely on your hips as he lead you straight forward, past all of the men on the side and women on the other. It was bigger than you expected. From the outside, it looked like a smaller nightclub but just could tell that that was just an illusion.

One more turn around the corner and through deep black curtains, you found yourself in front stairs but waited for Wonwoo to continue. He noticed you hesitating and stepped forward, taking the first step down. He turned around again, extending his hand for you to take and leading you down.

Black stone surrounded you, and the temperature dropped a significant amount as you were now in a basement - still lit up by blue, red, and purple lights.

Arrived on the lower floor, two signs let you know where everything was. With one look to the right and left, you also found multiple doors, leading to more rooms. You could guess what was going on behind those doors. Wonwoo had told you, and you didn't want to imagine what those men were possibly doing with the women that worked there.

You were dragged towards the 'lounge', passing all those doors. You didn't question anything, you knew this was the moment to shut your mouth. If you had any questions, you could ask those later.

The two of you came to a stop at the end of the hallway, one bright red door right in front of you. Your eyes fell to Wonwoo to your left, watching his chest rise before falling again. Maybe he wasn't as relaxed as he pretended to be. You squeezed his hand a little tighter, just to let him know that you were also still there. He wasn't about to do this alone. He copied your action, followed by a gentle shake of your hands.

He brought his other hand up to the door, knocking hard against it three times. Not even trying to open it, he knew only seconds later it would open up just like it was supposed to. His hand dropped yours the moment a beam of light came from the other room. You looked to your side, hoping to catch his attention as you didn't expect the sudden action. He sent you an assuring smile, tapping your palm with his finger before looking straight ahead again, walking in first to keep you secure behind him.

You were about to follow him when the sight in front of you made you stop in your tracks. A lounge with a big U-sofa, massive even. But more importantly, were the people on the couches. You found three men, sitting with their legs wide apart, surrounded by multiple women, one dressed skimpier than the other, all over those men. Their lips and hands running all over their bodies and all you could do was stare blankly.

The one in the middle caught your attention first as he saw you walk in. A bright smile, that you could only describe as creepy, brightened up his face.

"Jeon Wonwoo!" He shouted, pushing the women off him while gaining the attention of the other men left and right who had turned to look at the two of you. "A face I never thought I'd ever see again." With a slight tilt of his head, he also met you. A wink was sent your way making you quickly walk up right behind the CEO. The door behind you closed. Turning around you found two security men on either side of it. Those people here really care for their safety apparently. "To what do we owe the pleasure? And tell me why I shouldn't tell my men to pop your eyes out of your skull immediately."

You wrapped your arms around your torso in comfort as you started to feel the chill coming down your spine once again. He maybe didn't look as scary. But he sure as hell sounded terrifying.

Wonwoo sighed, putting his hands in his pockets, "Good to see you too, Shownu. And that would just make a terrible mess, don't you think?"

The man on the sofa looked to his left and right, sharing glances with his colleagues before gifting you his attention again.

"Well," he smirked, "Can't be worst than last time, right?"

Can’t even explain how nervous I was finally releasing this bc I haven’t written in so long, I hope I haven’t lost my spark… thank you for taking your time to continue reading this series🤍

Taglist: @nctxtrash @leicy0756 @hoe4wonwoo @jeonwonhi @nothingbutadeadesceane @smileywoo @angelarin @onewoowonderboy @goodforgyu @kavvs @sugarmilkchan @sweetheart-gs @wonforgyu @lilactangerine @meltinghershey @wonw00t @soonchanshua @jayswifeuwu @allorysayshi @shaurenlaw @drama-1998-girl @yoonren07 @malakasae @sseuyeon @venusprada @jeminiepabo @billboard-singer @safsaf1980 @monmarguerite @ji-jii-visha @renjunphile @haogyuslut @destinyg237 @taestrwbrry @renkkuri @travelleratheart101 @love-svt @sunshinein17 @morklee02 @wonuziex @pwwarkjisung @hokuuu @clvudisan @awyunh @restlesswritings @woohaosworld @everyw0nu @woo8hao

[fromtenthousandfeet]

What is it gonna take for HYBE to give Jimin the support he deserves? Will it ever even happen? Because I'm tired of feeling so miserable all the time. I even wanna delete all my socials and just find something else in my life to fixate on. I feel terrible for feeling this way because it's like I'm abandoning Jimin (even if I'll still be streaming his music). I'm tired of all of this, it's not good for my mental health at all.

All this corruption and evil simply can't keep winning like this, can it? Are we just supposed to make peace with JK being BTS' "break out star"? Really? I naïvely thought that they'd abandon their sinister plans after seeing how poorly he's been performing in comparison to the crazy amount of push they've been giving him. What the hell is going on at that company?

Anon,

I'm sharing with you this poor quality video of Michael Jackson calling out Tommy Mottola and Sony because it's worth remembering that record labels using and abusing their artists is the rule, not the exception. Not even The King of Pop was immune.

At around 3:20, MJ mentions that he "owes" the label two more songs and then he's a free agent. He says he writes about 120 songs per album, so he'll just pick two songs he's got hanging around and then he's done.

I bring this up because I suspect Jimin might be doing something similar. Having as few solo songs under Big Hit as possible is smart, because he likely won't own the rights to his own music if/when he leaves. The less they own, the better. Writing and recording two albums at once was efficient. Also, by keeping his marketing budget (ads, playlist placement, music videos, etc.) as small as possible, he'll keep more of the album sales and streaming revenue. All those expensive marketing costs are deducted from an artist's earnings, so best to keep them at a minimum if the plan is to make the most money possible. Between the writing credits, lower marketing budget, and the high profile brand ambassador deals Jimin's got, I feel like he's positioning himself to create his own company or label. This is my hope even if I have zero proof.

The way FACE went down really bothered me. I knew the company was behind Jimin's sabotage immediately and it drove me crazy that it took so long for others to catch up. But look at the response to MUSE. Jimin really does have an army of dedicated fans who are calling out the company's (intentional) incompetence 24/7. In reality, it's fun to watch PJMs catch the company and create a stink. It's almost like a game. Don't take it too seriously. Plus, in the long run, who cares about charts? The quality of the music itself is far more important.

Once again I've droned on way too long, but hear me out. I think HYBE/BH is investing so heavily in JK because they have to. BTS isn't going to last forever, and if Jimin leaves, they've lost a huge revenue source. But please trust me when I say they have an uphill battle before them because JK doesn't currently have the artistry or charisma to enthrall the west the way Jimin does. Don't expect them to abandon ship anytime soon, though. And if he does make it big, so be it.

I really wish BTS fans, or at least PJMs, didn't feel so much hate for Min Hee Jin because there's a lot to learn about Bang Si-hyuk and HYBE when you follow the whole ADOR saga. There are some astute NewJeans fans out there who've sized up Bang PD so well and their observations help explain Jimin's treatment by the company. He breaks people down (the idols, staff, and fans) using the "death by a thousand cuts" method. Endless small transgressions and slights, that individually appear like no big deal and are therefore not taken seriously by the media or fans, but collectively are detrimental to careers and one's mental health.

You know what? If Jimin announced he's leaving the music industry after military service, I would say congratulations and thank you for all the amazing music and performances during your BTS and solo career. Have a wonderful life! While I don't think he'll do that, it's worth remembering that none of this is all that serious. Enjoy his music. Take a break from social media, because in the real world nobody cares about this stuff.

Anon, did you make to the end of this long post? Way to use the umlaut on naïvely!

[tillthelandslide]

You've Got Me Forever - Ross Macdonald One Shot

A/n: something I just whipped up in about 10 minutes because I woke from having dreams about this glorious man and just had to write one down. It's not been proof read so please don't hate me

Fluff, spelling and grammar mistakes

He stands by the door to his bedroom, resting against the frame, it's cold against his bare back but he doesn't falter, doesnt flinch. His eyes remain on her, sitting in just his Tshirt and a pair of panties, an acoustic guitar resting in her lap as she sits cross legged.

She fiddles with the strings for a second, completely unaware that he's been standing watching her the entire time. She begins strumming a familiar song, playing the chords effortlessly. He has to hold in a gasp as her voice then fills the room.

"So I heard, you found, somebody else" she sings. Ross' mouth falls open, shocked that the girl he had been spending months with now, was revealing something about her that he didn't know, something huge. She could sing and was amazing at it too.

"And at first, I thought, it was a lie" she was completely wrapped up in the music and he couldn't help but smile, heart beating twice as fast in his chest. They had spent every waking moment they could with each other for 6 months (going on dates on and off for two months before that mainly due to his busy schedule), she joined them on tour when she could (her own job making it pretty easy for her to do so), he spent every minute of his time off with her and their families and they quickly fell in love.

He had her in his life for 6 whole months and was yet to discover this about her. Every day he spent with her he learnt something new, something that made him want her more, something that made him realise she was his person.

"I took all my things, that make sounds, the rest I can do without" he remembers Matty saying to him once that some people have to really work on singing and some people just get it. She just got it. Her voice was effortless, her tone was beautiful, her voice never wavered or cracked, a small fact that let him knew she must have done this a lot. They had spoken about their mutual passion for music, she explained that she had been playing guitar since she could remember, but she failed to mention this.

"I don't want your body, But I hate to think about you with somebody else" she sings. She stops after that, fingers pausing on the strings.

"Can feel you staring you know" she says, eyes flicking up from the strings to the man in the doorway. He simply smiles at her and she smiles back.

"Darling..." Hjs next words fail him and she stares back, waiting for him to say something, anything.

"You never told me you could sing" he says, large frame coming to find her on the bed. She simply shrugs at his words, placing the guitar onto the floor lightly.

"You're amazing" he says, she moves herself so she's draped over him, legs either side of his thighs. His hands instinctively move to her hips, holding her in place. Her hands find his shoulders, the muscle contracting under her touch.

"I've been singing since I was 2" she says matter of factly.

"And you didn't feel like telling me that?" He chuckles. She shrugs again and it makes him chuckle, his hand finds her jaw pulling her towards him for a brief kiss.

"Singing... It... Frees me" she explains "But... I like to keep it to myself, it's my own little thing you know, people don't need to know that" she says and he nods along fo her words.

"I appreciate that... But baby a talent like yours can't just be hidden... Everyone needs to know how good you are" he says and she shakes his head at him.

"No they don't" she smiles at him "I don't tell anyone, I prefer it that way, I don't need to tell anyone it's like my secret, you're lucky I shared it with you" she laughs and his face falls, suddenly looking at her very seriously.

"Thank you" he says, if this was something she kept to herself, he was unbelievably thankful she allowed him to know.

"But I will... With some persuasion... Sing for you if you liked it so much... Just for you" she says and he smiles widely at her again.

"You must really like me" he jokes. She simply smears her lips to hers, playing with the hairs covering his chin, before pulling away.

"You're alright" she says making him laugh, flipping them easily as his hands encapture her waist, tickling her. Her giggles fill the room and soon he's laughing too, until eventually their stomachs hurt too much and they have to stop.

So he rests in-between her thighs, one of which has hooked over him, keeping him there. He holds himself up by his elbows as his right hand moves the hair from her eyes.

"I'm going to marry you one day" he says simply as she smiles at him.

"You better, otherwise I might have to kill you... Can't have you going on about how good of a singer your ex-girlfriend was" she says making him laugh above her.

"You'd want to marry me?" He asks. He had always struggled navigating relationships with his job, but with her it was never complicated, in fact it was one of the easiest things either of them had ever done. They just made it work and she was the most understanding person about his career. But he was ever the worrier and despite plenty of reassurance from her, he still doubted that she wanted him: all of him forever.

"If you'd have me, of course. Thought you knew that by now" she says, placing a gentle peck to his lips.

"You worry too much Macdonald" she says, pushing the hair from his eyes now. "I'm not going anywhere, no matter what we'll make it work" she says and he nods down at her.

"And one day you'll marry me. You promise?" He says making her chuckle.

"I promise" she seals it with a kiss.

He had found his person and he was so unbelievably lucky and ecstatic it was her. Someone who loved him fiercely, loved him for every part of him (even the parts he wasn't too fond of). Someone who seemed to not give a shit about rumours or tabloids because she trusted him and knew he was her person too. Someone who supported him through every adventure he had, had so far in the time they had known each other and someone who would go on to support through every other one.

"You've got me forever you know that right?" She asks and he nods.

"I love you" he says simply, pressing a firm kiss to her mouth.

"I love you more Ross Macdonald"

[itaehynz]

୨୧ it’s always been true — c.sb﹒🌷

♡ pairing: choi soobin x gn!reader.

♡ genre: fluff, angst, idol!soobin + idol!reader, short fic.

♡ warnings: slight argument, miscommunication, reader feels jealous of relationship between arin + soobin, lowercase intended!

exhausted, you’re sitting on the couch in the shared apartment in which you share with your beloved boyfriend, soobin.

as you’re watching tv & eating an ice cream stick, you receive a notification from twitter reading,

‘arin + soobin confirmed ?!?!?!’

as you’re reading it repeatedly with furrowed eyebrows, you hear keys unlocking your front door. no other evidence needed to know that it’s soobin, you begin walking to the front door while clicking on the tweet & watching the short video “proving” that ‘arin + soobin’ is confirmed.

“hi babe, i’m ho- oh there you are!” he says with his usual dimpled smile, “what’cha looking at… oh, what’s that?” he says looking over your shoulder.

“i don’t know, just a tweet about you & your girlfriend’s relationship being confirmed!” you say with fake cheerfulness while walking away with an obvious attitude.

soobin blinks while furrowing his eyebrows before walking over to you & grabbing for his phone to see what you’re talking about. he carefully types up “arin and soobin confirmed” & sees a numerous amount of fake “evidence” pop up. videos, cameos, pictures, you name it, it’s all he sees & he’s in shock.

“baby, i didn’t even plan for this to happen. seriously, me and arin are nothing more than friends and i’m really sorry if it seems as if it’s something more than that…” is what you hear him say as you’re looking through your refrigerator.

“soobin, i truly can’t believe that right now, unless there’s something that can really back up what you’re saying to me. as of now to me, you’re just saying words that have no meaning behind them. i absolutely love you and arin to death but like… seriously? you can’t set boundaries?”

“you can’t believe what i’m saying? yn, i’m your fucking BOYFRIEND for god’s sake, have i not reminded you of all the time i felt like you and another male idol had something behind my back? once you reassured me, everything was fine. i promise you, me and arin have nothing more than a friendship, i don’t like arin like that, i don’t want arin like that. the only idol i have ever wanted to be with, was you. please don’t ever, and i mean EVER, question if my words to you are true and the amount of love i have for you. you’re the only person i’ve ever wanted and will forever be the only person i will ever want, i truly do love you and i will continue to reassure you of anything you hear about me and another idol, so please believe what i’m saying to you.”

wow, you’ve never seen soobin this upset nor has he ever been this serious. there’s tears in your eyes right now but, you’re ignoring them.

“soobin, i’m sorry. for everything, i have really bad jealousy issues and trust issues all because of my past relationships. you’ve never given me a reason to not trust you, so i’m sorry for questioning your honesty. i truly don’t deserve you and i’m sorry for believing some silly tweets over the words coming out of your mouth, i was just scared to be hurt again and started to think that it would be no different this time. i really am sorry and i love you so much”, you say before wiping your tears & walking over to him.

soobin sighs & quickly grabs you and hugs you. “my love for you is true yn, it’s always been true.” he says in between the kisses he’s planting on the crown of your head.

you don’t ever know why you questioned his love for you nor why you believed stupid tweets. it’s fine now, you know that soobin will always be different from your past lovers, and better.

﹏

2023 TTYUNZ.

a/n: this took a little while to write because all my data was gone because i accidentally closed out the app 💔 but here we are guys!

♡ perm taglist: @yeofy @h00nerz @boba-beom

[kt-the-lee]

Yours Forever - A Criminal Minds Tickle Fanfic (Emily x JJ)

IMPORTANT INFORMATION , PLEASE READ BEFORE THE FIC:

ok. so. i did not write this fanfic. my wonderful and amazing partner is not in the community, nor affiliated with twords in any way. one day, i got the courage to explain the Whole Thing™️ to them, and i have created a Monster. they’ve taken it so on board in our everyday life and, perhaps even more flusteringly, they have started writing tword fic. and oh my GOD you guys - they get it. they’ve gotten too good at it. i seriously need you to all bear in mind when you read this how insane it is that the person who wrote this fic ISN’T. IN. THE. COMMUNITY.

just emphasising once again that i did not write this fic, but have been given explicit and enthusiastic consent to share with you all. thank you all in advance for reading and i hope you enjoy!! <3

The door crashed open with a bang so loud it made Emily jump, JJ never slammed the doors. Sitting up from the couch, she craned her neck to get a good view down the hallway to see what was happening. She immediately saw how exhausted JJ looked and how aggressively she was throwing her keys and shoes away.

"Baby? Are you okay?" she called to her concernedly. She didn't get a reply however until the blonde came storming into the living room and threw herself down beside her girlfriend, her face like thunder. 

"Never leave me with those assholes ever again." she huffed, leaning into the cushions.

"That bad? I'm sorry sweetheart, as soon as my ankle is fixed up I'll be out in the field again and you wont have to be with just the guys, promise." she assured, gently kissing her knuckles.

"You better keep that promise otherwise I'm shooting them." she glared at the ground. Emily couldn't help but chuckle softly to herself, JJ was so cute when she was grumpy like this it reminded her of an angry puppy. 

"Come here honey, you can tell me all about how awful men are while I hold you." she offered, opening her arms with a loving smile. JJ didn't have to be told twice as she snuggled into Emily's arms almost instantly, letting out a heavy sigh. 

As she began letting out all the frustrations of the last few days, the brunette started lightly caressing her arms to soothe her. She saw it working as JJ melted more and more into her embrace, eventually she took Emily's hand and placed it on her waist without breaking her torrent of insults toward their team. With a smile, she continued her light caressing on her lover's waist and lower back. 

JJ could feel her chest growing lighter and lighter as she vented all her frustrations out while focussing on the gentle tingling left in the wake of her girlfriend's fingers. The warmth of her embrace paired with the light prickling across her skin was alleviating the several days of stress as though it were a spell. By the time she had let out what was weighing her down, she realised how bored she was. 

"I feel so much better already but god I'm bored. Spending that long with just work to think about has been mind numbing." she sighed, tucking her long hair behind her shoulders. 

"I'll tell you what, if you go get changed into something comfy I'll find a way to make you laugh, deal?" she smiled down at her. JJ agreed and gave her a gentle kiss before scurrying off to get changed. While she was gone, Emily took the time to rearrange the cushions so that there was enough space for them to lie beside each other comfortably. It was a few short minutes before the blond returned wearing one of her lover's oversized shirts as pyjamas and sat down beside her.

"What's your plan to get me to laugh then?" she asked as Emily turned the TV on. 

"We'll find out wont we, come here." she beckoned her to lay in her arms, spooning her warmly. 

Her hands rested still on JJ's stomach while they watched TV, the perfect distraction for her plan to work. When she was sure her lover was relaxed, she ran her fingers delicately over her torso in very precise movements. The slight fidgeting told her what she was doing was working, so she decided to ramp it up a little more. She subtly slid her hands under the shirt, under the guise of caressing her skin, until her hands were back against her stomach where her fingers made nimble work of finding the most sensitive parts of her midriff. Skin twitched under each gentle drag of her nails, stifled giggles widened her mischievous grin and supressed fidgeting pressed their bodies close.

"I know what you're doing, you're not sly." JJ chuckled.

"Damn, you caught me... I guess that means I don't have to be subtle anymore doesn't it." she grinned before tightening her grip on her girlfriend and  tickling every inch of sensitive skin her practiced fingers could reach. Instantly the room was filled with JJ's laughter and playful squeals and Emily's equally playful growls and taunts. 

"I've got you now, you're stuck mwahaha!" she laughed, leaning round to kiss her neck wherever she could reach.

"Ah! That tickles too! Emily! You monster!" she cried between fits of laughter, uncontrollably writhing in Emily's vice like grip. Her feeble attempts to pry her hands away only resulted in more tickling and it wasn't long before she gave up trying, submitting to the torrent of affection. Her mind slowly began to rid itself of thought, her muscles shaking off all her stress and every laugh expelling the exasperation weighing her down. She hadn't imagined this would be her lover's way of making her laugh but there was no denying it was working, and there was no part of her that wanted the carefree joy to leave her just yet. She simply couldn't keep herself still as every inch of her skin was exploding under her touch and the feeling of her lips against her neck was doing nothing but fill her mind with love for her. 

"I told you I'd make you laugh!" cheered Emily through her own laughter.

"Shut it! Ahh! You're evil! You're evil Emily!" she yelped between laughter and attempting to catch her breath. 

"I know, I'm just the worst aren't I." she agreed sarcastically, pressing her fingers into her waist, which sent JJ into even louder laughter and joyful screaming. It was her favourite sound in the world, the pure joy of the woman she loved more than anything and knowing she had cried out almost every possible expletive yet had avoided anything to tell her to stop. 

"Okay you win! I surrender I surrender, white flag white flag!" she called out, waving one of her hands to signal her. In a second, Emily stopped and kissed her on the cheek. 

"Feeling better?" she asked with a smile. JJ nodded with an even bigger smile and rolled over to face her lover. 

"I am, but nothing feels better than revenge." she grinned before jabbing her own hands into Emily's sides and causing her to explode into laughter.

"JJ! You tricked me! You sneak!" she squealed, unable to reach her hands to get her off. 

"Now who's winning!" she laughed evilly, having managed to catch her breath. It was equally fun attacking her lover as it was having her hands all over her. 

Emily's mind was running wild at the unexpected attack, however she knew she wouldn't tell her to stop, not while she was having so much fun so soon after her terrible few days with the men. She wasn't half as ticklish as the blond but she loved making her smile and laugh so she played up her reactions for her, just to make her feel more powerful. She began to squirm under her beautiful girlfriend, smiling lovingly up at her wonderful grin. Still playing up her reactions, she couldn't feel a thing inside her except for how much she loved that smile. The way her hair fell either side of her face, the way her cheeks grew pink and the way her blue eyes seemingly glowed whenever she was having fun was entirely intoxicating and she could never imagine loving anyone or anything else even half as much. 

A minute or so later, she called a truce and sat up to catch her breath. JJ snuggled up to her, still beaming and thanked her for helping her to feel better. They stayed cuddled on the couch and watching TV for a few more hours until their eyelids were growing too heavy to stay in the living room. Upon moving to bed, they crawled lovingly into each others embrace and quickly drifted off feeling happy and relaxed.

[universallychaoticpan]

sooo...my bf and i just broke up today, and i am crushed, we ended it nicely and all but i really miss him, so if you're up for this request, ranpo(if you write for him) or/and chuuya comforting reader after a breakup, it doesn't have to be romantic, it can be completely platonic, it's all up to you babe💗

muah, i adore your writing 💗

Aw hun, im sorry I didnt get to this sooner :(( I hope you're feeling better and if not, I hope I can help. We've all been there and I totally understand missing an SO even if it ended on good terms. It feels crappy and I'm really sorry. Shameless feel good to the rescue, or so I hope. Enjoy!

At first glance, Ranpo Edogawa took few things seriously. And he liked that about himself; when most people assume you can't handle responsibility, your time is your own. But even though he was seldom serious, that didn't mean he didn't care; especially not about you. So when you texted him about your breakup, it only took him five minutes to be pounding your door down.

"Come on," he chirped, "It's too nice a day for you to be moping around your apartment."

You rubbed your eyes tiredly, your messy hair hanging in your face. "Ranpo please, I really just wanted to hang with you-"

"And you will," he declared, brushing past you and throwing your curtains open. "But we sure as hell aren't staying in this gloomy ass place. Come on, get dressed, we're leaving in ten."

You knew him better than to just hope he would give up.

///

15 minutes later, you were dressed and on the move, walking through street markets as the sun beamed above you. And you had to admit, it felt nice; feeling like you could forget about your worries for a while and enjoy yourself. After one hour, you were chatting animatedly as you walked, snacking on fresh strawberries and giggling as the juice ran down your lips. After two hours (and the drinks Ranpo insisted on buying,) the two of you were laughing hysterically, feet bare and digging into the sand of the beach you had found.

"You know," you were oddly right about getting out." You lay on your back, staring up at the sky as it began to riot in shades of orange and purple as Ranpo snorted at your side.

"You say that like I'm not usually right," he teased. "Out of the two of us, it's clear one of us has t be the brains.

"You might be right," you laughed, "Which I suppose makes me the good looks of this operation?"

You smirked victoriously, Ranpo's smile going from laughably offended to sly-

before he picked you up, ran down the shore-

and promptly dumped you in the water amidst the cacophony of screaming laughter.

You groaned as you pulled yourself from your bed, the knocking at your door getting even louder if it was possible every time you tried to ignore it.

"I am going to kill you," you muttered, seeing Chuuya's unmistakable shock of red hair. "Wanna wallow forever."

"And so you shall," he replied, brushing past you into your living room. "But no one ever said you had to do it alone so I am now joining you." Plopping down on your couch, he looked over at you with his cheesiest fake smile and you found yourself laughing in spite of yourself.

"Alright, but I'm warning you I'm shit company right now."

"If that bastard ruined you-"

"No, Chuuya," you sighed, rubbing your forehead tiredly. "We don't hate them, ok?" Shlumping beside him, you sighed when you felt his fingers begin to wind through the slight tangles in your hair.

"You may be on good terms with them," he muttered, "doesn't mean I have to be."

"I never suggested that," you snorted. "Just no murdering my ex, ok? Promise?"

"Yeah yeah," he replied. "It's not worth the effort as it is."

"Wowwww," you giggled. "You come up with the best insults even when you're being nice."

"Yeah, and you fucking love me for it."

"I missed this, you know; feels like we haven't done something like this in ages."

He looked down at you quizzically. "Something like this as in just relax together or something like this as in wallow in shared self pity?"

"Oh come on, asshole, I'm not that self pitying," you laughed while landing a playful punch to his shoulder.

"Oh no?" he challenged. "This is coming from the person who wanted to spend the whole day 'wallowing forever?"

"Alright alright," you muttered. "So I am self pitying. You fucking love me anyway."

And he didn't have to tell you he did. You just knew in the playful way he pushed you off him, or the way he laughed at all your bad jokes the rest of the day. You knew he loved you when you woke up on your couch next to him, your tv playing quietly, and saw how he had curled himself into you.

And there wasn't a person in the world you were happier to be with right then than him.