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lesbian-peanut-writer · 4 years

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Please Boss?

Day 5? I almost lost track of what day it was today... Anyways, here is the fic for day 5. Now, I will give you all some fair warning; this Eijiro is out of character because lets face it, Mafia Ei isn’t going to be sweet. Please make sure you read the warnings that i slap on this story, I don’t want to cop and shit from people who didn’t read the warnings...

@ikinabi here’s your man, come grab him while he’s not being sweet.

@rinarecommends, you seemed pretty excited when I said I was writing for Eijiro in the Mafia au, so here you go.

~Lesbain Peanut

Word Count: 4663

Content Warning: Contains DubCon and darker themes

“Please Sir, I’m sorry…” Your voice cracked as your body shook involuntarily, tears stinging your eyes as you stepped backwards. “I didn’t want to do this, please forgive me Sir.”

“Forgive you? Give me one damn good reason as to why I should even entertain the thought of forgiving you.” The voice that sounded from the deep darkness of the room was cold and malicious, the man behind it even more so.

Fear, no terror gripped your chest, suffocating your lungs as you stared over into the darkness and red eyes shone back at you. They appeared as though they were two beacons set within the night but you knew better than to expect those beacons to deliver you safely or offer leniency. This man had never been known for his mercy, he ruled the Mafia with an iron fist and crossing him was basically like signing your own death warrant. You were currently on the verge of a death warrant, but that is the sort of thing that happens when you slight ‘The King’.

You found this entire situation to be nothing but unfair, it shouldn’t have been you in this room; it shouldn’t have been you facing this terrifying man. Dedicating labour to the family you had served for years now and this was how they repaid your loyalty, by throwing you to the wolves or more accurately; the dragon! They had forced you to take the place of their only daughter, the woman who was supposed to give herself to the Mafia Boss; the one who had been promised as his future wife. Her not you!

“I’ll do anything, please?” You begged, your legs caving in beneath you and your arse met with the cold hard floor. “Anything you ask, I’ll do it for you.” You guess it was true what they say, people really will do anything to avoid death when presented with the opportunity.

“Pathetic.” His tone was harsh as he sneered out his painfully obvious disgust at your pitiful pleas for your life to be spared. “Had I wanted a rat within my family, I’d have bought one as a pet. At least then when I was done with it and its uses were no longer there, I could give it one final use in life before feeding it to the snake.” Words that almost sounded like a growl abused your ears, the analogy not lost on you as his threat was aired; you were the rat and he was the snake.

“Please, I’m so sorry…”

“Enough!” That singular word boomed across the room, it felt as though it had shaken your brain loose in the process and caused your teeth to rattle. “I don’t want to hear any more of your putrid apologies, I don’t even want to hear the sounds of your pitiful whimpering.” The sound of material shifting and feet sliding over the floorboards reached your ears, your heart rate quickening in response. “Do they take me for a fool? Did they think that I wouldn’t find out what they had been planning all along? WHO THE FUCK DO THEY THINK I AM?!” His voice grew louder and angrier with each question he shot towards you, the sound of his fist hitting something caused you to flinch; a whimper slipping from your lips.

You shook violently as you cowered on the floor, unable to bring yourself to move anymore or even reply to any of his questions. The silence in the room grew, the sense of death looming overhead as his eyes never left yours. You had never seen the man sitting across from you in the darkness, but you had heard more than your fair share of stories and none of them had a happy ending for those involved. Breathe, you needed to breathe but you couldn’t; the air in your lungs had caught in place as you watched those red gems rise into the air. Holy mother of fuck, how god damn tall was this freaking monster?!

“Mouse… rat isn’t a fitting term for you. A rat would at least have the sense to fight or flee, you on the other hand are just like a mouse; frozen in place once cornered by its hunter.” His voice grew louder as he walked towards you, his footsteps silent against the floor and that only served to pile on the terror; unsure if your nerves could handle much more. “A poor, pathetic little mouse thrown into the Dragon’s Den and this is where you will meet your end.”

“Please… I don’t want to die…” You whimpered as your voice trembled, finally managing to remember how to breathe. The man snorted the closer he got to you and you instinctively dropped your head, too afraid to look up at this monster of a man.

“Who the fuck said you could lower your head?” He growled as he came to a stop before you, the ink on his skin the first thing you noticed as he stood there barefoot. “Lift your head and look into my eyes or are you that much of a damn coward?”

Your shoulders stiffened as you took in his words, there was an underlying message hidden in them. He wasn’t just ordering you to lift your head or to look up at him, he was challenging your courage in that moment; seeing if you had what it took to do as he demanded. You swallowed back the saliva that had built up in your mouth, closing your eyes as you took a deep breath and tilted your head back cautiously. Your fingers shook anxiously as you twisted the hem of your dress violently, your heart loud in your ears as you tried desperately not to throw up. Ink and a lot of ink was the first thing you noticed as you cracked your eyes open, your breath catching in your throat at the sight that greeted you.

“Not as much a coward as I thought, I see.”

You flicked your eyes up to his face, heat flooding your cheeks as your hands stilled on your dress. Eijiro Kirishima, the man who was a King and the man who held your life in the palms of his hands; literally. How the fuck was it fair for a man who could instil so much terror in someone’s heart, to be that god damn hot? He was tall, easily more than six foot and it had your stomach doing somersaults. His long black hair was loose, framing his face and his chiselled jawline was jutted out as he dipped his head towards you. Those ruby eyes that had been watching you from across the room, now too close, were narrowed in concentration as he took in your every fibre. He was covered in ink, a little too much if you were being honest; just how much of his skin was covered in it? You trailed your eyes down over his body, saliva pooling in your mouth as you caught sight of that dark hair starting at his navel and trailing down his; HOLY FUCK!

Naked, very fucking naked!

You were pretty sure you weren’t supposed to be feeling the way you were feeling, it wasn’t normal to feel horny while being so damn terrified. You mean, never had you thought that you of all people would get the chance to see Eijiro’s dick; not in a million years. Yet, there it was right before your eyes and it was something for him to be proud of that was for sure. Heat had flooded your cheeks, unable to tear your eyes away from his dick. Despite the heat flooding your face, your skin felt cold and goosebumps formed over your arms. This was dangerous, being this close to him and seeing him like this; you were certain you were going to die now.

Eijiro scrutinised you as he stood there, a smirk pulling at his lips as he reached out a hand. His fingers laced into your hair, twisting it before pulling on it harshly as he threw your head back hard. “Something you can see that you desire?” He ventured, pulling on your hair harder and drawing a whimper from you.

You shook your head violently, wincing as your scalp protested at having your hair pulled about like that. There was no way you were about to tell this man he had you wanting to jump his bones, especially not when he was pissed with you. “N-no… n-nothing. Why would there be something I desire, I’d never even think about doing anything with you.” You babbled, squirming as you reached a hand up for his tangled in your hair.

The snort that sounded from over your head was accompanied by a hard tug of your hair, your head jolting forwards and bringing you closer to his dick. Eijiro smirked as a deep chuckle started in his chest. “What was it you said little mouse?” His voice was calm and steady as he teased, prompting you to think over your conversation.

Your brain stalled as your body locked up, you could wager a guess as to what he was talking about but there was a part of you that didn’t want to repeat it. Your lungs burned as you held your breath, the ability to voice your thoughts no longer something you had. He couldn’t be serious could he, this man wouldn’t actually ask that sort of thing from you, would he? A squeal peeled from your throat as you were pulled forwards, your entire body shifting with the force and you were left with no choice but to grasp at his thighs for stability. You had your answer, yes; he would!

“Anything I ask, you will do for me…” A violent shudder ran down your spine at his words, your eyes flicking up as you peeked up at him. “One should learn to be careful with the words they say to others, some people hold words as a binding force. I’m one of those people, your words are your life and you said anything.” Your stomach twisted at Eijiro’s words as a sickening grin spread over his face and he pulled your head forwards.

Warmth spread over your lips as Eijiro pressed the head of his dick against them, beads of pre-cum seeping from the slit and over your bottom lip. You swallowed down the fear that was clawing its way up your throat in the form of a scream, the last thing you wanted to do was get yourself in further trouble. Your eyes shifted down to take in his dick, veins were already throbbing along the surface of it and he was thick.

“You are going to be a good little mouse for me now, you’re going to do as you’re told.” Eijiro commanded as he gave a harsh tug to your hair, a whimper pushing past your lips. “Open those beautiful lips of yours and stick out your tongue for me.”

Your bottom lip trembled as you parted your lips and pushed your tongue out cautiously. You were scared but there was a sense of curiosity in you as you inched your tongue forwards, closing your eyes in an attempt to settle your panicked heart. Heat met with the tip of your tongue as it pressed against the smooth skin of Eijiro’s dick, rolling your tongue over the head and collecting his pre-cum. It was salty against your tongue, a flavour you hadn’t tasted in a while and honestly you were glad to be tasting it again.

“That’s a good little mouse.” Eijiro praised as he pulled on your hair, less strength behind the motion than there had been before. “Open wider!” He ordered, his other hand coming down and tangling into the hair at the back of your head.

You blinked as you looked up at him, your tongue pressed against the slit of his dick as you stopped his semen from leaking out. “Wider?” you inquired as you tilted your head to the side in a questioning manner.

Eijiro smirked wickedly as he tightened his grip in your hair, his eyes shining with a glint of wickedness as he stepped in closer to you. “Wider.” There was no arguing with this man, you parted your lips and opened your mouth wide for him.

His hands tightened further into your hair, to the point tears were stinging at your eyes and the pain was intense. Your eyes popped wide as he pulled your head forwards, his hands in your hair giving him that extra leverage over you as he thrust his hips forwards. Your throat constricted momentarily before relaxing as his dick slid down the back of your throat, grateful for the fact you didn’t have a gag reflex. Skin broke beneath your nails as you dug them into his thighs, making sure to keep yourself steady as he thrust his hips roughly. Your nostrils flared as you drew in breath, knowing full well it would be your only way of breathing for a while.

Eijiro groaned as his dick was enveloped by the heat of your mouth, your throat tight around him as he thrust his hips roughly. It had been a while since he had last fucked someone and here you were with that pretty little mouth of yours, completely at his disposal until he decided what to do with you. He smirked dangerously as he tightened his hand at the back of your hair and pushed your head forward fully, satisfied when he felt your nose press against his skin. Eijiro looked down at you, laughing darkly as he sheathed his dick completely in the heat of your mouth.

You whimpered around his dick as you tried to pull your head back, your nose was pressed against his happy trail and you couldn’t breathe. Your brow creased as he laughed above you, holding your head against his body and not allowing you to move. A loud crack filled the room as your hand came down against his thigh, a solid slap making contact with his skin as you glared up at him.; unimpressed with his actions. Eijiro blinked as he took in what you had done and his eyebrow shot up before he pulled his hips back tantalisingly slow. You breathed in quickly, your nostrils flaring as you tried to take in as much air as you could.

“Feisty now, aren’t you little Mouse?” He chortled as he pulled roughly on your hair and yanked your head back off his dick. “Get some good lungs full of air while you can, once I put my dick back in it's not coming back out until I’m done!” He growled in warning; a promise you knew he would keep no matter what.

“Fine…” You choked as you wiped at your mouth, breathing in deep full breaths as he had suggested you do before he changed his whimsical mind.

He watched you closely as he stood there, waiting for you to get enough air to be satisfied. There was a stinging in his thigh and he moved his hand to rub at the spot where you had taken it upon yourself to slap him. Eijiro wasn’t sure whether you were just stupid or if in that moment you had actually been brave enough to lay your hands on him. His eye twitched as he pressed his hand against his thigh, annoyed with the fact you were becoming a mystery to him the more time he spent with you.

“That should be enough, open your mouth mouse!” Eijiro commanded as he tangled his hands back into your hair roughly.

“(Name)…”

“What?”

“It’s my name, why don’t you try using it you stupid Dragon.” You spat up at him as your eyes narrowed, annoyed by the pain that was coursing through your head from his rough treatment of your hair.

“Open!”

You dared not push it any further than you already had and once again, you dropped your jaw open for him. You closed your eyes as he pulled your head forward, his dick sliding right down the back of your throat and he picked up where he’d left off. Your nails dug back into his thighs as you shifted your legs under yourself, preventing pins and needles from setting into your extremities. The last thing you wanted to have to deal with right now was pain in your legs because this asshole couldn’t find somewhere better to satisfy himself.

You felt your hair go slack after a while, his grip loosening as his hips moved at a brutal pace and he fucked your throat. Shock came over you as a moan sounded around his dick and your eyes popped wide. The laughter from above let you know that Eijiro had heard your moan and it seemed to spur him on as his pace quickened. Moans continued to slip past your lips as your throat was fucked, his dick constantly sliding into your mouth fully. Your pussy clenched tight and your hips rolled forwards involuntarily, you hated your body for betraying you like it was.

“Look who’s enjoying the rough treatment.” Eijiro laughed maliciously as he thrust his hips harder, the hand from the back of your head shifting around to press against your throat firmly. “Maybe you’d enjoy it if I choked you out, left you gasping for air and crying in a pool of your own fluids.” Your pussy clenched tighter at his words, the vision of him looming over you as he choked you out forming in your brain and setting your body on fire. Holy fuck, that was an imagine you had never thought you’d need let alone be blessed with.

You moaned low around his dick as you moved one of your hands, dipping it below his dick and smiling as you traced your fingers over his balls. Eijiro groaned above you as his hips stuttered, his rhythm broken at the unexpected contact from you. You heard him curse above you before he moved his hips, thrusting his dick further down your throat. You felt it the moment his thumb pressed tighter against your throat, in addition with his dick down your throat there was nothing you could do. Your throat constricted around his dick as you tried desperately to breathe, your nose no longer helpful with your airway black off from both sides. Your head started to spin and your eyes rolled back into your head.

The pressure was gone and you took your chance to breathe in through your nose, your eyes focusing back on the man above you. The wicked smirk plastered over his face was sickening, yet there was a twisted sense of pleasure you found in that sinister look. You flexed your fingers before groping his balls, rubbing them roughly and squeezing them until you heard his groan of pleasure. Satisfied with his reaction, you continued to play with his balls; teasing the spot between them and his dick.

Eijiro groaned as his hips jerked forth, thrusting his hips roughly as he tightened his hand in your hair. Maybe fucking you like this was a bad idea, seems like he might have awakened something freaky in you. He couldn’t stop the smirk that was growing on his lips as he moved his hips relentlessly, fucking your throat and pulling moans from you. Saliva was running down your chin, all the way down until it soaked into that stupid dress you still had on. Groans left his lips as you rubbed his balls, squeezing them firmly in your tiny hand. He was nearing his climax; he had been in an agitated and horny mood for most of the day; fucking you just happened to be his outlet.

“Fuck.” He growled as he pulled your head forward fully, burying his dick right down your throat as he pressed your nose into his happy trail.

His hips stuttered as his seed spilled forth, right down your throat as he held your head tight against his hips. Your fingers left his balls and he felt them brush over his thigh momentarily before disappearing completely. Eijiro groaned in pleasure as he shot his semen down your throat, feeling as it constricted around his dick with each swallow you gave. He smirked as he pulled his hips back slowly, keeping the head of his dick in your mouth as he let his cum fill your cavity and watching as your cheeks swelled.

You felt relieved when his dick finally left your mouth, you were certain you’d be able to spit his cum out of your mouth and be free of swallowing it. Your eyes widened when he pulled on your hair, yanking your head backwards before clamping his hand down over your mouth. Black filled your vision as his head came to loom over your own, his hair curtaining his face and brushing over your forehead.

“Swallow!” Eijiro’s word was absolute as he ordered you to do the one thing you’d been hoping to avoid. “Don’t you dare spill a drop; I want you to swallow every last bit.”

You stared back and forth between each other, hoping that he’d cave if you refused to swallow his load. The hint of a sinister grin pulled at his lips moments before your nose was caught between his thumb and forefinger. Realisation set in as you kneeled helplessly beneath the man, you had to swallow or you would suffocate. Tears pricked at your eyes as you swallowed back his semen, feeling it as it slid down the back of your throat and your cunt clenched needily in response.

Eijiro laughed callously as he released you completely and stepped back away from you. He watched as you slumped forwards, gasping for air as you pressed your upper body against the floor. “This is just a taste of what awaits you, mouse.” He uttered as he turned away from your crumpled form. “You are mine now, mine to do as I please with until I get bored with you. Your life is in my hands, never forget that.” His words rang in your ears as you breathed in deep, tears dripping from your eyes as you tried desperately to compose yourself. You had already known there was no getting out of this, you were trapped here with this man and you knew your life belonged to him now. That didn’t stop you from doing something crazy, you figured if you were stuck here; you might as well make the most of it.

“Wait, please…” You whimpered as you reached a hand out towards him, shifting your position for something better.

Eijiro groaned as he turned his head, his eyes narrowed dangerously as he glared at you over his shoulder. He watched as you shifted your body about, dropping back onto the floor and lifting your dress up over your body. All heat dropped from his gaze as he watched your legs spread wide, he could see the wet patch against your panties but he hadn’t been expecting what came next. His eyes stayed trained on your fingers as they dipped between your thighs, pushing your panties aside as you used two fingers to spread your soaked little cunt open for him. Eijiro’s dick twitched back to life, the sight of you sprawled out on the floor like that for him was working in your favour but he wasn’t about to give in that easy.

“Please, what?” He growled as he turned on the spot, making sure his body was facing you completely and that you’d be able to see his erection.

“Please, help me.” You pleaded as you rolled your hips up, giving the man standing across from you a better view of your pussy.

“That’s no way to ask a favour of your Master.” He iterated as he stepped closer to you, his eyes dipped down to your soaked folds before flicking back up to your eyes. “If you can’t ask properly, I’m afraid I’m going to have to punish you.”

You blinked as you watched Eijiro drop to his knees between your legs, one of his larger hands hooking under your thigh and lifting it up over his shoulder. His eyes stayed locked with yours as he dipped his head in, biting along your thigh and heading up towards your hips. You moaned as he bit and sucked on the sensitive flesh, leaving little marks in his wake. A whimper of disappointment left your lips as he pulled his head back, not going past your mid-thigh before biting his way back towards your knee. He was doing it on purpose, biting everywhere his mouth could easily reach and yet not touching you nearly enough for your liking.

“Please… I just want to cum.” You whined as you rolled your hips, pressing your foot up against his dick and watching him closely. Eijiro groaned low as he grabbed your foot, shooting you a warning glare as he bit down into your thigh. You cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure as you curled your toes. “Please… please…” You breathed as your bottom lip trembled, tears forming in the corners of your eyes before rolling back into your hair.

Eijiro smirked as he pulled his head back, his hand massaging your thigh as he sat back on his heels. “Please what?”

“Please, I just want to cum.” You reiterated as you tried to blink the tears away.

“I don’t see how that concerns me, little mouse.” He muttered nonchalantly as he turned his head, reaching down to lift your other leg over his shoulder.

“What do you want me to do?” You asked finally, unsure of just what it was this man desired from you.

Eijiro’s dick twitched as a wicked smirk pulled at his lips, shuffling himself up between your legs further before leaning down over your body. He could feel how soaked your cunt was, the heat practically radiating from it as the head of his dick pressed against your entrance. “Beg!”

You blinked a couple times as you tried to take in what he had said, finally it clicked and your eyes blew wide in understanding. This man wanted you to beg him for his help, to literally lower yourself in standards and beg him for something he should have naturally returned to you. Your cheeks were on fire as you puffed them up, the tears in your eyes more of a bother now as they stung.

“Beg me to help you. Address me as your Master, beg me to make you cum and then swear your loyalty to me.” Eijiro demanded as he rubbed at your thighs, flashing you a full-blown grin as he waited for your response. He knew you’d never do it; you just didn’t seem like the type of person who would put themselves at someone else’s…

“Please! Master please?” Eijiro’s thoughts were cut short as your voice sliced right through them. “Master please, make me cum. Please? I want you Master; I want you to fuck me until I cum.” You pleaded desperately, your voice cracking as you looked him straight in the eye. “Please, fuck me until I can’t take it anymore. Fill me with your semen and make me scream your name. Please, I’m begging you.” You could feel his dick twitching against your pussy, your words were having an effect on him and honestly; they were having an effect on you. “I promise, I’ll never serve anyone else. I’ll only ever be loyal to you and you can use me as you see fit, Master. Just please, please fuck me and make me cum!”

Eijiro’s head was spinning as a smirk spread over his features, never had he expected you to deliver that so perfectly. “You have yourself a deal then, (Name)” He growled in agreement before throwing his hips forwards and burying his dick into your needy little cunt.

#eijiro kirishima #kirishima eijiro #kinktober #kinktober2020 #eijiro kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #dubcon #scenario #smut #mafia au #lesbian peanut writer

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kutemouse · 4 years

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Caught (Prologue)

Disclaimers: All “Save Me” webtoon and BTS MV/highlight reel/film references and plots belong to BTS and BigHit. Not sure who edited it or made it, but the “I’m Fine/Save Me” ambigram pic I used came from here. All pictures of Kim Taehyung belong to BTS and BigHit, I just edited them for my header. The picture of BTS came from Vogue Japan, I just edited it for my header. I got the Kim Taehyung Wings Film Gif from DannyBriz on Wattpad.

A Note from Kutemouse: Awwww, thank you for reading my stuff, @chocolatewolfuniversitytrash!

So, this sweet little mini series is inspired by several things… The movie 365 DNI, the Save Me webtoon, the BTS MV universe, and ideas I’ve come up with waaaaaay too late at night 😂 Honestly, I’m OBSESSED with the whole MV/highlight reel/wings films arc that started with The Most Beautiful Moment in Life Pt. 1, and I’ve ALWAYS wanted to write a story inspired by it. So, kutie pie @chocolatewolfuniversitytrash, thank you for allowing this dream to come to light.

About the non-con request, I was all like, “EEEERRRRRRMMMMMMMM idk,” because I’ve never written non-con and therefore don’t… know… if I’m comfortable with it…? I will attempt to do my best. Either way, I hope you like what has come out of my brain 😅

Also, thank you to @btssmutheaven for revealing my drafts (NOT REALLY, ILY) to @taemaknae for reading my shit and loving it, and to @kpopyandere for being the best unnie account and helping me realize I can write all the yandere ideas I want.

Age Recommendation: 21+ (this is NOT one for youngsters, kuties, and is MOST DEFINITELY NSFW)

Genre: Mafia!AU w/ BTS, Jailbird!AU w/ Taehyung, Yandere!BTS

Warnings: ALL THE WARNINGS. Just kidding, uh… Swears. There are minors in this section but they do NOT do anything sexual. I ain’t about that kinda life, y’all. F*ckboy Taehyung. Fluffy friendship. Angsty jealousy. Mentions of drug use and alcohol consumption (NOT by minors tho). Yandere themes including unhealthy obsession and possessiveness. Making out. No smut in this part, but it’s heavy af.

🚨TRIGGER WARNING. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE ISSUES WITH THE FOLLOWING.🚨

Mentions of abusive relationships, mentions of a parent abusing their child, mentions of sexual abuse, mentions of schoolyard bullying, mentions of a violent murder.

These are not fleshed out or detailed scenarios. When I say “mention,” I mean briefly discussed after it happened, not during, and definitely not in any detail whatsoever. You DO NOT have to read my work. You decide what you are comfortable with. All I want is for you kuties to be happy.

Word Count: 6.1k (WTF is this even allowed?!)

Summary: Kim Taehyung was the absolute love of your life… until he became a murderer. With him serving a life sentence in prison, you were finally free to live out the rest of your life however you wanted. Just when you thought you were at the top of your game, ready to take on the world, Taehyung reappears like a monster not even your worst nightmares could dream up. He gives you a year to fall in love with him, but now the question is, can monsters even be loved?

Master List

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Caught (Taehyung Series, Yandere, Smut, Angst) Prologue

I remember the first time I saw Kim Taehyung. We were both fifteen, just starting out in high school. Back then, I remember the way he lazily leaned against a locker with his arms crossed, seemingly waiting for someone. His hair was bleached a ridiculous bright blonde on the top and left brunette everywhere else. He had on dramatic, black eyeliner that served to accentuate his inky eyes, and he wore a studded leather jacket with his shirt and tie rather than the traditional uniform. Intrigued, I opened my locker and picked out my books for my next class, watching him out of the corner of my eye.

I saw him zero in on his target and take brisk, wide strides towards her as she twirled the combo to her locker. She looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes as he caged her in by leaning down to whisper something in her ear. Suddenly, the hallway was filled with flirtatious giggles and I turned away, rolling my eyes. So he was one of those assholes.

I watched him do this with every single girl in our class. I swear, he had his routine down to a science. Chat her up, openly flirt, flirt some more until she caved in to whatever he desired, then drop her like a hot frying pan. It took a couple months for his interest to finally land on me.

“Hey.”

I didn’t bother to look up as I twirled the combination to my locker and popped it open.

“Hey,” he said louder.

I flicked a glance his way. “Do you need something?”

His eyes narrowed. “Do I look like I need anything?”

I huffed out a sigh. “What do you want, Kim Taehyung?”

He let out a snort, leaning against the locker next to mine the same way he’d done a thousand times with a thousand other girls. “So you know my name, but I don’t know yours. You’re new, right?”

“I transferred in at the beginning of the year,” I said impatiently. “And we’re in the same class, so you should know who I am.”

Taehyung’s lips curled up into a playful smirk. “Really? No, that can’t be right. I definitely would’ve remembered you.”

I rolled my eyes and slammed my locker shut, walking quickly away. Taehyung jogged to keep up. “Just tell me your name,” he insisted.

“Why?”

“C’mon, I’m just trying to make friends.”

I whirled around, stopping both of us in our tracks. “Friends? Is that what you’ve been doing with every other girl here? Just making friends?”

Taehyung smirked once more and took a step towards me. I don’t know why, but I took a step back. I should’ve held my ground, should’ve told him to fuck off right then and there. Instead, I let him back me up against the wall and entrap me within his darkened gaze, the same way he would for the next three years of our lives.

He leaned down to whisper in my ear, his breath tickling the skin of my cheek. “We can be more than friends… but first, you have to tell me your name.”

I shoved him off me and practically sprinted down the hall, cheeks aflame with embarrassment. My peers and classmates who saw the exchange teased me for weeks afterward, no matter how much I kept my head down and avoided Taehyung like my life depended on it. It wasn’t until I heard him telling off some of the more tenacious gossipers I decided to give him another chance.

I tapped him on his shoulder as he stood in front of his locker. His eyes widened when he turned to see me standing there. “I’m L/n Y/n,” I said meekly. “And I wanted to thank you for what you said to those people.”

“You heard that?” he asked, the skin of his neck flushing pink.

I nodded.

“You’re welcome,” he said, tossing me a boxy grin.

That day, a seed was planted that eventually grew into a steady, beautiful friendship. A year later, I had come out of my shell quite a bit thanks to Taehyung, and I had a solid group of mates that I adored and relied on. Tae was my best friend, and I was his. Of course, we still got teased quite a bit about being a couple, but I figured we were both long past that.

Taehyung matured alongside our friendship. He stopped wearing thick eyeliner and sporting ridiculous hair colors, instead opting for a softer, more natural look with caramel brown locks and the unblemished glow of his slightly-tan skin. Gone were his dramatic, attention-seeking ways. His voice also deepened, dropping almost an entire octave. Yet despite all of his changes, he still stayed an absolute fuck-boy, shagging a new girl every other week. I came to realize it was all part of his personality, though, and I loved him no matter what.

The summer before our senior year was when I realized that love ran way deeper than friendship. We were at my best girlfriend Chaeyoung’s house when Taehyung stumbled in with yet another girl, his hair freshly dyed a bright cerulean blue. “Hey everyone!” he called out, slinging his arm around the girl’s shoulders. My smile faded as I looked over and noticed she was beyond gorgeous, with waist-length black locks that seemed to flow down the perfect curve of her back. I shuddered as a green monster reared its ugly head deep within me.

Taehyung was with that girl for a few months, which by his standards, was practically a lifetime. The entire time they were together, I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff about to swan-dive into devastating heartbreak. Each time I saw him kiss her, each time I saw him smile at her, each time I saw him lean over and whisper something in her ear, a piece of my soul shriveled up and died. I did my best to put my feelings aside, knowing I already had my chance and he would probably never look at me that way again. Even after they broke up, I kept my love for him tamped down and tucked away deep in the recesses of my heart, scared of ruining our friendship.

His break-up only served to draw us closer together, and slowly, without me realizing it, our friendship began to bloom into something more. Taehyung and I started to tell each other everything, including the messed-up secrets our home lives made us keep. One day, we were sitting in an empty classroom after school. I was trying to study, but kept getting distracted by Tae staring longingly out the window. “What’re you looking at?” I finally asked, putting my pencil down.

“Nothing,” he said simply. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About when we’ll finally get out of here.”

I smiled, my heart thumping a little faster. “We?”

He turned and tossed me his signature boxy grin. “Yeah. We. We’ll make it out of here someday, Y/n. I’ll get away from my bastard of a dad, you’ll get away from your selfish mother, and we’ll have a house in the country with big, open fields and plenty of space to finally fucking breathe.”

I smiled and stored those words away, using them to comfort myself whenever my mother and her asshole of a boyfriend wouldn’t stop yelling at each other, or worse, when they’d pass out on the couch, too drunk or high to stay coherent.

One night around three in the morning, my phone began to buzz and didn’t stop until I finally popped an eye open, fumbled around for it in the dark, and pressed it to my ear. “Hello?” I mumbled.

“H-Hey.”

I sat up. “Taehyung?”

“Y/n, I n-need your help,” he said shakily. It sounded like he was… crying?

I immediately got out of bed and pulled some jeans on. “Tae, it’s okay,” I said soothingly, trying to hide the panic I was feeling. I knew Taehyung’s home life was extremely hard. In fact, most of our home lives were terrible. The only two in our friend group who even came close to “privileged” were Chaeyoung and Jin, and that was because their parents had more money, not less problems.

I myself had plenty of issues. The reason my mother and I moved here when I was fifteen was to escape her abusive boyfriend, and even then, we still lived in constant fear of him finding us again. I guess that fear drove her into the arms of the first strong-looking man who looked twice at her, because her new boyfriend, Manseok, seemed to fit the same abusive pattern. At least he didn’t hit her when he was sober.

I wasn’t exactly sure how terrible Taehyung’s life was until the night he called me. At his request, I stole a few bills from my mom’s purse as well as her ID and put us up in a cheap motel room for the night. Jumping up when I finally heard his knock, I quickly pulled the door open to reveal Taehyung, his blue hair stringy from the rain outside. He was panting like he ran all the way there. I covered my mouth with my hands as the dim lighting revealed his left eye swollen shut, covered in nasty shades of scarlet and purple. His lip was split and bleeding, and his right cheek had another bruise and cut creeping down to his jawbone. The worst part, though, were the red finger-shaped marks that covered his neck.

“Y/n,” he croaked out. I held open my arms and he fell into them, not leaving their safety until well into the morning. I iced his black eye and bruises as much as I could, and bandaged the cuts that covered his face. Taehyung’s face was pressed into my chest, his breathing deep and even as he finally slept.

I decided then and there I’d never let him go.

Thankfully, Taehyung felt the same way. Within a week, he brushed off every other girl he was chatting up and focused all of his attention on me. We spent hours with each other after school, either in person or on the phone, and it became a common occurrence for him to intertwine his fingers with mine or peck me sweetly on the cheek.

I quickly grew dissatisfied, sick of the friendship barrier preventing us from taking things further. We spent an entire day together one weekend, talking, laughing, walking the streets, and trying different foods from vendor carts. As the sun started to go down, Taehyung wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing his chest into my back. He was teasing me, I forget about what, and he leaned down to kiss my cheek when I turned at the last second and let him peck my lips instead. I laughed as his dark eyes grew wide with shock.

That was all it took, though. One kiss, and he was mine. Or rather, I was his. Afterwards, he pulled me into a deserted alleyway and we kissed until the sun completely disappeared. As the stars appeared in the sky above, Taehyung asked me to be his girlfriend, murmuring in my ear about how much he loved me and how he had never stopped loving me, even after I turned him down. With my heart practically bursting, I readily agreed.

Back then, Taehyung had a knack for getting in trouble, and me being his new girlfriend did nothing to hinder that side of him. He was definitely the “bad boy” of our school, constantly rebelling against the system by swapping his uniform for street clothes and ditching classes. His favorite form of rebellion, however, was street graffiti. He loved spray-painting words and drawings all over the walls of our neighborhood alongside his best friend, Namjoon. Tae was nearly caught by the cops a couple of times, but thanks to his quick instincts, he managed to give them the slip.

Still, a boy with bright, blue hair was bound to stand out, so after a couple nights of close calls, Taehyung finally dyed his hair back to that soft, caramel brown that I loved running my fingers through. We sat together at a bus stop, watching cars and people go by with fingers intertwined, when Tae stood and pulled a paint can out of his jacket pocket.

“Again?” I asked. Despite my teasing tone, I smiled up at him.

Taehyung tucked his bottom lip between his teeth with a grin as he sprayed something onto the panel beside us. “Look,” he said once he was finished, tilting his head to admire his work.

I stood up to see the words “I’m fine” sprayed in green. The font was the most interesting part, though, too curly in comparison to Taehyung’s usual writing. “Now look at it from upside-down,” Tae said.

I threw him a skeptical look before obediently curving my neck and scoping out the piece of art as best I could. “Save me,” I read out loud.

Taehyung nodded. “It’s for us,” he murmured.

I looked up at him, emotions surging through me like a waterfall surging down a cliff. “It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice cracking.

Taehyung looked at me, concern filling his features. “Baby girl, what’s wrong?”

“I-I have s-something to tell you,” I stammered.

With many tears and a shaky voice, I began to explain to Taehyung the events that had transpired only a few nights before. How my mom’s boyfriend had quietly snuck into my room while she remained passed out on the couch. How he had told me to be quiet as his hand started stroking my arm. How he had held his hand over my mouth and yelped when I bit him. How I had screamed so loud our neighbors called the cops. How he was carted away by the police with my mother shrieking the entire time about how I was a brat and a dramatic liar.

Taehyung’s gaze grew darker with each word. “That bastard,” he spat, clenching his fists. “I will end that motherfucker.”

“Taehyung, stop,” I sighed. “It’s over. For now, at least. I’ll stay at Chaeyoung’s until graduation.”

“What do you mean? He’s not going to jail?”

I hung my head. “My mom left to pay his bail an hour ago.”

Taehyung slammed his fist into the same panel he just graffitied. “So that jerk is going to walk free?!”

I stood up and ran my hands soothingly over his shoulders. “For now. I’m going to press charges, but in the end, it’s my word against his. Who knows how the system will treat him.”

Taehyung let out a feral growl, turning away from me. “I’m sick of this shit,” he snapped. “My dad, your mom’s boyfriend… neither of them should be walking free after everything they’ve done.”

Not knowing what else to do, I hugged him tightly from behind. “Just another few months,” I said quietly. “And then we’ll be out of here. A house in the country, just like you said.”

“That’s not good enough,” Tae snapped, turning back towards me. My mouth parted in surprise as I looked into his eyes and saw something there I’d never seen before. It was like a slow-burning flame, one that hadn’t yet risen into a raging wildfire, but threatened to if it wasn’t quickly put out.

Taehyung suddenly grabbed my hand and tugged me down the street. “I’m dropping you off at Chae’s,” he said. “And then I want you to stay there for the next twenty-four hours. I don’t want you going out for any reason, you understand me?”

“Taehyung, what are you saying? You’re scaring me.”

He stopped walking, turning so we were facing each other once more. The flame I saw earlier began blazing, turning rapidly into something uncontrollable and destructive I didn’t know how to stop. “This ends tonight,” he growled.

True to his word, he dropped me off at Chaeyoung’s, not leaving until he made me promise I wouldn’t go out until he said so. After a week, with Tae’s permission, I went home to get some clothes and personal items only to find my mom sitting on the couch, strung out of her mind. “Is he here?” I asked tentatively.

She raised her red-rimmed eyes to meet mine. “Who?”

“Manseok. Your jerk of a boyfriend.”

My mom shrugged and scoffed. “Haven’t seen that bastard for a couple days now,” she said, her words slurring together. “He upped and left us. Stole some money from me to do it, too.”

The feeling of relief that I felt was short-lived once I remembered that asshole would probably be back for more, just like the others. I quickly gathered my things and left, stopping only to make sure my mom had enough food for the next few days.

Ever since that night, Taehyung withdrew into himself. He still held my hand and kissed me, but it was distant, emotionless, like he didn’t know how to feel his feelings for me anymore. He weirdly became somewhat possessive of me, keeping me practically glued to his side whenever he was with me, and constantly texting me when we weren’t together. Whenever other boys looked my way, Taehyung shot them down with harsh words and incessant bullying our friends joined in on. I insisted they stop that kind of behavior, and for a while, I thought Tae and his friends complied. It wasn’t until much later in life when I realized they never truly stopped. They just got better at hiding it.

One night, I was at Namjoon’s place waiting for Tae when Joon’s phone rang. “Taehyung?” he said, turning away from me when I looked up. “Hey, calm down. You did what?!”

He stood up quickly. I motioned for him to put it on speaker, but he waved me off. “Okay, stop. I’m coming over right now. Just stay put, dammit.”

Joon grabbed his jacket and rushed towards the door. “Wait!” I cried. “What happened?!”

“Nothing that concerns you,” he snapped. “Stay here. I’ll bring Taehyung to you, alright?”

Neither of them came back. Before the sun even thought of rising, I determinedly ran all the way to Taehyung’s apartment, desperate to see him and make sure he was alright. As my sneakers pounded against the pavement and my breath started coming out in ragged gasps, I suddenly felt a hand grasp my forearm and yank me into a side alley.

“What are you doing here?” a voice growled as I yelped in surprise. I looked up to see Jungkook standing there, glaring at me.

“I want to see Taehyung,” I retorted, ripping my arm from his grasp.

He crossed his arms. “Not gonna happen.”

“Like hell it’s not!” I snapped. “Where is he?”

Jungkook grabbed the front of my jacket, preventing me from pushing past him. “Go home, Y/n.”

“Absolutely the fuck not!”

Sick of my shit, Jungkook picked me up, threw me over his broad shoulder, and carried me out of the alleyway. I kicked and screamed the entire way. He set me down once we were on the main street. “Taehyung will call you when he can,” he said firmly. “I won’t say it again, Y/n. Go home.”

“No!” Tears welled up, and I furiously swiped them away. “I’m his girlfriend! Tell me where he is right now or I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Jungkook snapped. “Y/n, you don’t even know where he is. Fucking leave, or I’ll carry you all the way back to Chae’s myself.”

It didn’t take much longer for me to realize Jungkook wouldn’t relent. Eventually, I went back to Chaeyoung’s and spent the day staring at the wall beside my bed. What did Taehyung do? What were his friends protecting him from? When had things gotten so fucked up?

My questions were never answered. After a full week of silence, complete with him missing school, Taehyung showed up at Chae’s place asking for me. “She doesn’t want to see you,” Chae snapped, closing the door as I meandered into the entry hall.

Taehyung stopped her by slamming his palm against the wood. “Please, Chae,” he begged.

Recognizing his deep tenor, I walked up and put my hand on my bestie’s shoulder. “I’ve got this, Chae,” I murmured. She left with a huff.

Taehyung looked terrible. Dark circles ran under both eyes like he’d spent multiple nights without sleep, his hair was unkempt, and his skin was much too pale. Without another word, I immediately took him inside and dragged him up to my room. He took a shower in my en suite bathroom while I washed his clothes. After he dressed, we sat on my bed, still not speaking. “What happened?” I finally asked.

He tossed me a weak smile. “Life happened.”

I shook my head in disgust. “You leave me for an entire week with no explanation, and that’s all you have to say?”

“Baby girl, please,” Taehyung said, clasping my hands in between his large, rough ones. “I’m sorry I left you alone. I asked the guys to keep an eye on you, and they said you’ve been doing fine.”

“Fine is an overstatement,” I snorted, tearing my hands from his grasp.

He didn’t relent, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his broad chest. “Let go,” I ordered, trying and failing to push him away.

“No,” he said simply, tightening his hold. “I love you, Y/n. Everything that happened this past week happened for us. For our dream.”

I managed to pull back enough to look up into his eyes. The spark of mischief that normally resided there was gone, replaced by a dull sombreness that made me ache inside. Whatever had happened that week completely changed Taehyung for good. He was no longer quick to smile or joke, and I began to yearn for the blue-haired boy of the past. I couldn’t tell him that, though. Despite everything, I still loved him.

A month passed, and as our graduation approached, Taehyung talked more and more about moving out to the country. I responded enthusiastically outwardly, but on the inside, I didn’t know if moving out was such a good idea. It wasn’t just the way he had changed. It was having issues with my mom as well. Since Manseok never came back around, her behavior grew more erratic each day. I moved back in to take care of her, and she depended heavily on me. I was afraid if I left, she would fall off the deep end again and never be able to make it back to the surface.

The last day I saw Taehyung dawned bright and filled with hope. “I’m feeling good today,” he announced, slinging an arm around my shoulders as we walked to class.

I smiled up at him, glee spreading through my limbs when I saw a trace of that mischievous spark back in his eyes. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He tossed me a grin. “I haven’t been able to go out and tag anything lately… but I kind of want to tonight. You in?”

“Of course.”

As night approached, we walked hand-in-hand down the street until Taehyung led us back to that bus stop where he painted the “I’m fine/Save me” ambigram. I sat on the bench and watched as he began to create something new. I don’t think he had a set plan. The painting started off in meaningless loops, the jet-black color standing out in stark contrast to the white behind it.

Suddenly, bright lights filled our vision flashing a blinding blue and red. “Freeze!” a loud voice yelled.

I remember Taehyung’s wide, dark eyes finding mine, filled with panic. I remember the rough skin of his palm sliding into mine and yanking me upright. I remember how we sprinted down the street, the fear of being caught pumping adrenaline through us. How he ran faster than me, tugging me along to keep up.

Taehyung looked back and pulled me into an alleyway to try and lose them. We turned a corner and met a dead end. With our backs pressed against the wall, I looked at Tae. “Dammit,” he panted, the corners of his mouth turning upwards despite our situation.

I began to run out the way we came, intending on dragging Taehyung with me, but he yanked me back, slamming me against the wall that entrapped us. He kissed me, feverishly pressing his tongue inside my mouth before I could stop him. He yanked my wrists upwards, pinning them almost painfully against the brick above us as his mouth continued exploring mine and his hands roamed up and down my body.

He pulled back, allowing me to finally suck in some oxygen, and even as I coughed, he continued pressing kisses from my cheek to my jaw to my neck. Tae finally stopped as loud voices and beams of flashlights got closer. “I love you, baby girl,” he murmured. “Don’t forget that.”

“Tae, what—?”

He stepped out from behind the corner, raising his hands in the air. I ducked down into the shadows the alley provided, scooting backwards and pressing my hands over my mouth.

“Get over here, punk,” a gruff voice commanded. I heard the grinding click of handcuffs closing over wrists as another voice began to read Tae his rights.

I scrambled to my feet, realizing too late what was happening. No, no, no, no, no. He couldn’t take the fall for both of us. Not like this. Still, even as I moved to step out into the light and reveal myself, something stopped me. I don’t remember exactly what it was. Possibly the thought of my mother, my friends, how close I was to graduation. Like I said, I don’t remember. All I remember was the panic I felt when I realized the love of my life had just been arrested.

I showed up late to class the next day, not wanting to answer questions from my friends about what had happened and why I looked like absolute shit. I realized my efforts weren’t needed when two detectives pulled me out of class and escorted me to the police station, causing my classmates to start buzzing with gossip like the annoying wasps they were.

“So… L/n Y/n,” the cop, Detective Kwak, said. I looked up at her, nervously twisting my hands in my lap. “You are dating Kim Taehyung, correct?”

I nodded slowly. She had brought me here for “routine questioning,” yet I began to suspect more when they put me in an interrogation room. “For how long?” the detective asked.

“About a year and a half,” I muttered.

“So your relationship was serious?”

“You could say that.”

“How serious?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, how serious were you? Did you have plans for after graduation?”

“I guess. We were going to move in together.”

“Here in the city?”

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “Somewhere far away.”

“Because of your troubles at home?”

It was then I got defensive. “What do you know about that?” I snapped.

Detective Kwak stared me down, an amused smile playing around the corners of her lips. “I know enough. I was promoted to detective only a month or so ago. Back in my street days, I was one of the cops called to your house.”

My mouth parted in surprise at her words.

“I remember that night pretty clearly,” she continued. “Your mom’s boyfriend attacked you, right?”

I swallowed hard and sank down in my seat, rubbing my arms with my palms in an effort to keep myself contained. “And she did nothing to defend you, correct?” the detective prodded.

“Stop,” I whispered.

“What about Taehyung? Did he do anything to defend you?”

“What the fuck is this about?” I burst out. “I thought you brought me here because… because…”

“Because of the graffiti?” she asked pointedly.

I nodded.

Detective Kwak leaned forward over the table. “Look, Y/n, I don’t give a damn about the fact you were his tagging partner in crime or whatever. This is much bigger than that.”

“What do you mean?”

She sat back and stared at me, her eyes like cold, dark tunnels. “Kim Taehyung has been charged with murder. His prints match a partial we lifted off of a crime scene.”

My mouth dropped open. “W-What?”

“That’s right,” she said. “We only identified the body yesterday. Does the name Lee Manseok mean anything to you?”

I froze as the syllables of my mother’s boyfriend’s name rolled off the detective’s tongue. She nodded at my reaction. “I thought it would. He was found in an abandoned warehouse about a week after he was killed. He’d been beaten to death.”

My blood ran cold, causing goosebumps to raise on the flesh of my arms. I shook my head fiercely. “No, that can’t be right,” I said. “The guy was a dick, anyone could’ve done that to him.”

“That’s what we thought at first. We first suspected his wife.”

“He… He has a wife?”

“And two kids,” the detective scoffed. “Your mom picked a real winner. But then we finally got Taehyung in custody thanks to your shenanigans last night and what do you know? His prints match the one we found at the crime scene.”

“You’ve got it wrong,” I said firmly. “Taehyung wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t he?” she asked, folding her arms over the table. “Sounds like he really loved you and would do anything to protect you.”

“No, there has to be a mistake. Even if Taehyung did kill him, it had to be out of self-defense or something.”

“Maybe so. But if you knock a guy out and then continue beating him until he dies, is it really self-defense?”

“It is if that guy could come back and hurt someone you love for revenge,” I retorted.

The detective’s face remained expressionless. “Unfortunately, the law says differently.”

“The law can go to hell for all I care.”

She chuckled. “Whatever you say, kid. Look, the crime scene revealed that more than one person beat the literal life out of Manseok. If Taehyung did this, he didn’t do it alone. Do you happen to know who else would have helped him commit murder?”

I stayed silent as I thought for a moment. Any of our friends could’ve helped him, with maybe the exception of Chaeyoung. I thought of Jin, Hoseok, Jungkook, Jimin, Yoongi and Joon. I thought of the way they moved around school like a unified group, making fun of anyone who wasn’t them and bullying people who got in their way, especially any other guy who dared look my way. Still, they wouldn’t have helped Tae commit flat-out murder, would they?

“Anyone at all?”

The detective’s voice brought me out of my thoughts. I shook my head. “No. No one.”

She sighed. “There’s something else. We’ve been trying to get ahold of Taehyung’s father, but he seems to be missing.”

“Missing?”

“Yes. He hasn’t shown up at his job at all in the past month and a half. His credit cards haven’t been used, either.”

“So?” I snapped. “The guy was an alcoholic, he could be holed up somewhere drinking himself to death.”

“Maybe so, but my guess is we’re going to find him in some abandoned building or maybe at the bottom of the ocean one day. Your boy, Taehyung? I’ll bet he’s the one who put him there.”

I slammed my palms on the table. “LIES!” I yelled. “He wouldn’t do that!”

“Wouldn’t he?!” Detective Kwak shouted, rising to her feet. “Tell me something right now, Y/n. Have you noticed him acting differently? Have you noticed any changes in his behavior?”

I immediately looked down at the ground. “No,” I muttered.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I said, NO!”

“Enough with the lies!”

“I’m not lying! You are!”

The detective opened her mouth to retort, then thought better of it and sat down instead. “The evidence doesn’t lie, Y/n,” she said.

“Look,” I said. “If you want someone to put in jail, put me in jail. Taehyung’s gone through enough in his life. Please don’t put him through this.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

Tears welled up in my eyes and I put my hands over my face and began to sob. Detective Kwak stood up and came around to my side of the table before placing a hand on my shoulder. Once my sobs began to cease, she offered me a tissue. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose. “Thanks,” I muttered.

“Listen,” she said gently. “I’ve made arrangements for your aunt to come pick you up.”

I looked up at the detective in surprise. “My aunt?”

“Yes. Your mom’s sister. She’s filed to gain custody of you, and in light of recent events, a judge granted it to her.”

“Wait, my mom’s sister? I thought she lived in America.”

Detective Kwak’s mouth visibly tightened. “No, actually, she lives in Busan. Seems your mom kept that from you as well. Your aunt’s been trying to get in contact with you, Y/n. She says she sent letters.”

I stared at the wall across from me. Every limb, every nerve ending, every cell in my body was starting to go numb. It was all too much. My boyfriend was a murderer, my mom’s ex-boyfriend was dead, Taehyung’s dad was missing, and now all of a sudden I had a long-lost aunt who was now my sole guardian?”

“She’s very well off,” the detective continued. “She’s even offered to pay for your mom to get treatment in a rehabilitation facility. Whatever future you have with her is sure to be a bright one.”

“If you say so.”

“I know so. I’ve met her, only briefly, but she seems very nice.”

I let the silence grow between us, not bothering to give a response. The detective finally sighed and sat back down in her chair across from me. “Y/n, Taehyung is going to jail for a very long time. Maybe even for the rest of his life. I suggest you move on with your life. Move to Busan. You’ll attend a great school there, and probably university as well. You can start down an entirely new path.”

The memory of Taehyung’s handsome face swam before my eyes, his bright, boxy smile lighting my insides on fire the way it had for the past year and a half. “What if I don’t want to?” I whispered.

“Well… That’s up to you. But the sooner you move on, the sooner you’ll stop feeling this pain.”

Detective Kwak stood up, motioning for me to stand up as well. “Come on. Your aunt’s waiting.”

We exited the interrogation room, the skin on my face itchy and dry from crying. I knew I probably looked like a mess, but I didn’t care.

“Y/n!” a deep, familiar voice shouted. I froze in my tracks, slowly raising my eyes to his inky ones. He struggled in the grip of two cops, his hands handcuffed behind his back.

“Hey baby girl,” he said, smirking. “Nice of you to come visit me.”

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Detective Kwak hissed.

“You said to move him into the interrogation room.”

“While it’s still occupied?!”

“Don’t worry,” Taehyung quipped. “We can share, right baby?”

“Get him out of here!” Detective Kwak snapped. “Now!”

The cops shoved Taehyung towards the interrogation room. I turned to look at him, desperation clenching at my heart. I realized this might be the last time I saw him, the last time I would get to tell him something. Anything. My mouth opened but no words came out.

“Don’t worry, baby girl!” Taehyung shouted, lurching towards me. “I’ll get out someday! And I’ll come for you! I will always come for you!”

I shook my head and felt tears prick at my eyes once more as the police wrestled with him. “I love you, Y/n!” he shouted just before they shut the door on him.

“Sorry about that,” Detective Kim said, holding a hand to her heaving chest. “You weren’t supposed to cross paths.”

“It’s okay,” I murmured, and to my own surprise, I meant it. I was glad I saw him one last time. I realized, in that moment, that the blue-haired boy I once knew and fell in love with was completely gone. His eyes, which once held a spark of playfulness and mischief, now held nothing but misery and woe. He let his anger for the world overtake him, allowing it to blaze a path of self-destruction that I could no longer follow.

Maybe the detective was right. Despite the fact that Kim Taehyung was the love of my life, maybe, just maybe, it was time to move on.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Part One is HEEEEEEERE! 😉

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roscgcld · 3 years

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It's "just five more minutes of sleep" just "one more chocolate chip cookie" I had toooo, I had to keep reading 😩 how do I know your writing won't suddenly sprout legs and run off??? 😶 Haha XD You 🤝 Me "if I don't include Good Teacher (read: dad) Gojou content then what's the point?" hELLO??? TEARS ;-; (gonna try and make my own response as vague as possible cause spoilers) even when THAT is happening he chose to use those last seconds to reassure her and says *that* and know I Am Emotional

there is a lot of asks from this cute anon so am gonna make it long. also there are some spoilers, so read with your own caution~

(Continued) 😭 tried to keep it limited to one ask since I don't know if you accept multiple parts but here we are. Yeah mental trauma can be heavy, and oh that bit with Maki fits in perfectly since we didn't see what happened in between, how some characters got from point A to point C (like in ch 137, that was so sudden) (or we did see and I just forgot, I just remember where we left off with them mid-arc and then seeing them post-arc)

(Continued) "whacked" is such interesting word choice considering~ you. you know how it went. It brings to mind the image of whacking someone gently over the head with a newspaper. I am both laughing and crying. Ahhhh, you did not hold back. Aw daydreamer-chan it doesn't stop there 😭 I really feel for her, gosh, I just want HUGS. Even if 1/2 a hug. (I'm sorry) One day 😔 *plays kazoo sadly* dream a little dream, of a happy little scene, where you're here with me~ ✨ together for infinity~ 🌌🌏🌖

(Continued) Don't worry about the rambles, I love listening to people go off about their ideas!! Even better if u have fun with your own stories! Aksks and well 👉👈 what is a writer, if part of our souls don't desire whump content or to watch the struggle to win and getting back up again. That stuff is cool! I've sent you four asks already so I'll tell you in a new one! Ah shoot wait won't that end up having spoilers too if I go into detail ;-; can it be hidden under the cut?

Honey I am not going anywhere as of now loool - so all my works are always here for you to binge whenever you want cx fear not haha!

And okay see - yes Gojo is an ass, and I make that very clear every time I write for him cause let’s be honest here; he pisses everyone off AHAHHAA. BUT - he still does care for his students. I think that is very obvious. So I always try to make it so that I make that part of him shine through more cause that just makes me feel all happy and soft inside cx

I felt that it was the most accurate way to write them meeting up once more cause for me, she sort of just runs about the station not sure of where to go lol so i felt like it was the most fitting way for them to meet up once more. plus, it causes the most trauma for her in one go. AND OKAY SEE - that was the first phrase that came into mind okay? When I first read it I thought “well shit, Nanami got whacked by Mahito” and that is how i describe it to everyone lol. Friends who get into the manga will always hate me cause they thought the same thing too cx

I get that honestly - however I realise here on tumblr there are a portion of readers who are not happy when I explore? Like i mentioned yesterday that I was interested in exploring a more darker writing AU cause of an official art I saw, and I thought “Maybe putting them into a Mafia!AU would be cool.” Cause the in the Mafia!AU world, you gotta think really deep and dark for certain parts, and it interests me a lot. But then some random anon decided to say that I am sick and I need help - and it’s the few reasons why I wonder why I share the things I write lol. If I can’t write the things I am interested in, and people are going to go out of their way to try and like, make a huge deal out of it, I just rather not sometimes lol. Cause am a very pessimistic person. I get discouraged easily cause of some things that happened when I was younger, so sometimes I have to remind myself that I am writing myself and no one else. But I also get discouraged lol. Idk maybe I am just being too hard on myself but I just, I just start to talk down on myself and agree with the ‘haters’ cause I still don’t know what possessed me to hit post on my first ever headcanon HAHAHA

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justalarryblog · 3 years

Text

💮Thank You, Daddy by @recklessandbrave (10k) | Explicit

Harry’s hot, wet mouth is around him before Louis even has the chance to blink, and it feels so good, the icy sting of the frozen dessert disappearing as Harry’s soft tongue laps it up. After Harry swallows, he pulls off the head of Louis’ cock and then dips down to trail his tongue up the shaft, collecting the bits that dribbled down. “Yummy. Thank you, daddy.” He hums pleasantly.

Or the one where Louis gets an idea, and Harry wears panties

Part 2 of Pastel

💮Teacher Kinks by @Ecila (3k) | Explicit

AU in which Louis is Harry’s teacher, but he really doesn’t care. He fucks Harry and Harry enjoys it.

It’s graphic. Mainly just about their sex.

Part 6 of One-Shots

💮When I hear your cries, praying for life. (I will be there) by @brokenbeauty (5k) | Explicit

Well, I figured we needed Larry birthday sex, soooo….. ;))))

hop hop hop by orphan_account (3k) | Explicit

Suddenly, Harry’s slipping down his jeans, and Louis gasps as he’s met with a very unexpected but delicious sight. A mass of fur nestles between Harry’s cheeks, matching with the pink of the inner part of his bunny ears.

Or, the one in which Harry wears bunny ears and a bunny butt plug and Louis proceeds to fuck him.

💮St. Austin’s School for Boys by @domtommo, @winsomefreak (100k) | Explicit

St. Austin’s School for Boys is a correction school for young men that uses corporal punishment as their means of discipline. After one too many infractions, Harry Styles is sent there till graduation. Upon arriving Harry meets his dorm advisor who also happens to be the first year sex-education teacher and footie coach, Louis Tomlinson. Harry falls in absolute adoration for the teacher and is all too ready to drop down onto his knees for him. During his stay he learns some very interesting things about himself… Welcome to St. Austin’s School for Boys, where the hallways are filled with love, drama, and sex.

Part 1 of St. Austin’s School for Boys

💮Change My Mind by @larry_love13 (155k) | Teen And Up Audiences

Louis was a devout Christian family man with a wife and ten kids who lived a seemingly happy and idyllic life in Oklahoma. He always felt something was missing but he could never figure out what until he met Harry Styles, who made him question every single value he’d ever held dear, including his relationship to God AND his marriage. Harry, a devoutly religious young college student struggling with his own family and personal issues turned to Louis for guidance. They both end up learning a lot about themselves, each other, and their religion as they change a few minds-including their own-during their journey.

💮it’s kinda hot in here by @ballsdeepinjesus (3k) | Explicit

“Is that a moth on your stomach?”

or nerdy harry is hiding some stuff under his dorky clothes and louis fucks him in a locker room

💮jump in the deep end by @istajmaal (4k) | Explicit

Louis’s stomach lurches as he closes the last bit of distance, Harry’s nose settling between his arse cheeks and pushing them apart. Harry’s lips brush against the puckered skin around Louis’s hole in a kiss and Louis lets out a whine so high-pitched he barely recognizes it as coming from himself—what if I’m not clean enough, what if Harry hates it, what if Harry pushes me away—but then Harry’s long, wet tongue swoops in a circle around Louis’s rim and Louis feels like all the breath is knocked out of him. He grabs for Harry’s hand, still digging into his thigh, and squeezes over it, until Harry releases his vice grip on Louis’s thigh and laces his fingers through Louis’s.

or, Louis’s arse is a sensitive subject, so Harry approaches it gently. With his tongue.

💮I’ll Crash Until You Notice Me by @stylinsoncity (61k) | Mature

Louis sets off to Barbados to oversee the massive resort his family owns known as Sandy Hill. For years, he’s been looking for a change in the monotony of his life, seeking adventure and perhaps love too. What he doesn’t expect is the bright eyed boy who spills a milkshake on his shoes.

Cue the summer loving.

💮Bloodline by @banana_louis (177k) | Explicit

Louis doesn’t know how to feel when his best friend, Liam, finds out about a brother that he never knew, who was placed for adoption before he was born and is bursting into his life at twenty-four years old.

Louis is very wary of the man who might replace him. He has always thought of Liam as his own brother.

What if Liam doesn’t need him anymore? What if there’s no room for Louis? After all, blood runs thicker than water.

Louis doesn’t like Liam’s new brother and he doesn’t even know him. That’s irrelevant, though.

He doesn’t like him. He doesn’t trust him. He doesn’t want him hanging around. He doesn’t want anything to do with him.

That is, until he meets him.

💮The Arrangement by @daddyy_harryy, @HyFrLarry1224 (218k) | Mature

Louis knew it was his time. Once anyone turned 13, they were watched. And when they were 16 it could be any time. Anytime they could be taken. It was just weeks after his 16th birthday and there he was, sitting in the back of the van.

Louis is forced to marry Harry and bear his children. He is to listen to Harry and do as he says, no matter what. Speaking is a given, and freedom doesn’t exist. Will the sixteen year old boy find himself falling in love with the Leader of the British Mafia? Or will he find himself stuck in a place he doesn’t want to be, with an abusive asshole for a husband?

💮Birds in Gilded Cages by @graveyardwitch (157k) | Mature

There is a hotel in London where beautiful young men and women are kept like birds in a gilded cage, prisoners bound to satisfy your deepest darkest desires….

After being kidnapped as a teenager, Harry Styles was forced into high-class prostitution by the evil Mr Cowell. Louis Tomlinson is heir to his father’s corporation, set to inherit millions…But engaged to a woman he doesn’t love and deeply unhappy. When they meet at a party sparks fly and they embark on a passionate and dangerous relationship…But can it ever be true love when one of you is being paid? And can Louis ever rescue Harry from The Bird Cage Hotel?

Warning-This story is about prostitution so there will be a LOT of sex. I do not own One Direction etc etc. I do ship Larry but I don’t care if it’s real or not, I just like reading and writing the fanfic.

💮TFP by @capriciouslouis (134k) | Not Rated

Harry has known for a while that he wants to have sex with Louis, and nothing says “tonight’s the night” like a nice cup of tea and copious amounts of flowers.

💮12 Hours by @1975sam (2k) | Explicit

If two people who hated/couldn’t stand each other got stuck together in an elevator for 12 hours, what would happen?

💮a cage for every ugly spirit by @sarcasticfluentry (15k) | Explicit

First-year uni student Harry gives up orgasms for Lent, featuring a cock cage and weekly prostate milkings on Sundays. Warning for religion kink. Written for the 1D Novena Ficathon.

💮A Million Years by @sunflowerstyles (3k) | Explicit

Louis always ends up feeling guilty that he’s not ready to give Harry what he wants. Harry shows him how much fun they can have while they wait together.

💮Can’t help but touch myself by @Tita (7k) | Explicit

“I asked what these were, love.” Harry gulps. “Panties,” he explains with heated cheeks, needing more than the light touches from Louis and getting nothing. “What did you get them for? Were they to impress someone else?” He asks, and Harry shakes his head fervently, stumbling over his words as he tries to get his tongue to cooperate. “No, no,” he emphasizes, arching his back to plaster himself to Louis. “For you, always for you, Daddy.”

💮Mark Me Up (My Skin’s Yours to Touch) by @eyesofshinigami (2k) | Explicit

They stumble into their bedroom and Louis’ is immediately pushed onto the bed, Harry scrambling after him. Shaky hands pull down his joggers right under his arse and Harry’s tongue circles around the still tender skin, never touching it directly. Despite the heat and desperation between them, Harry’s almost reverential in his touches. “‘s for me, Lou?” he slurs between passes of his tongue. “A place that only I can see?”

Or the one where Harry gets to appreciate Louis’ new tattoo.

💮Champagne by @fanshae (2k) | Explicit

“Look at how pretty you are,” Louis murmurs, Harry’s stockinged toes curling against the floor at the praise, “Give Daddy a twirl, baby.”

💮Give It Up To Me by @krisstylinson (8k) | Explicit

“You’re going to end up making me come with all the boys in our lounge,” he finished, his tone softening the longer he spoke.

“And?” Harry murmured, placing his palm over the crevice of Louis’ arse, keeping the plug nice and tight inside of him. “What if I wanted you to?”

Or the cliché where Louis isn’t supposed to come but he does, and that can’t go unpunished in Harry’s eyes.

💮Gnossienne by @pukeandcry (11k) | Explicit

Louis sets a challenge for himself; it gets a bit out of hand.

💮Hold On To The Words You Spoke (Anchored Down In The Throat) by @justletmegohome (13k) | Explicit

“No, no. Louis, just stop. It’s not stupid, it’s never stupid. Believe it or not, I care. I care so much. Do you honestly think I’d still have my dick in your ass if I didn’t?”

Louis chuckles at that, but it’s sad, Harry notes it’s not right. “That will change when I tell you.”

“Never.” Harry kisses every bit of his face he can reach, he has no idea how that can help but he’s going to do it anyways.

“I don’t like the way I sound. ’S all,” Louis says in one breath, going coy as soon as he’s done speaking, his eyes casting downwards.

For a moment, Harry can’t believe his ears. Or the words Louis just said even if he can see them hanging in the air between them. Harry is not even sure if he listened He doesn’t want to believe them, maybe that’s why he’s having a hard time coming up with his own words.

*** Basically, Louis is loud. And then he isn’t. Harry ties him up to find out why. ***

💮I’m Tired Of Using Technology, I Need You Right In Front Of Me by @Phillipa19 (6k) | Explicit

Louis goes away on yet another business trip, but when he stops calling Harry to check in, Harry decides to take matters into his own hands.

OR- Louis is Harry’s sugardaddy who has gone away on business and Harry feels neglected. Louis is possessive and gets a camera installed in their bedroom so he can check up on Harry, so Harry decides to use the camera to his advantage.

💮Just One Night by @LovelyAnon (7k) | Explicit

Louis is upset and goes to a bar to drown his worries. Harry shows up. Sex ensues. What more is there to say?

💮just one step at a time by @hickeylou, @sowearegay (10k) | Explicit

Louis is insecure and Harry has trouble sometimes.

💮leave you drowning until you reach for my hand by orphan_account (16k) | Explicit

If Louis told him to do something that he really didn’t want to do, it would be different, but Louis’s never done that, never asked anything of Harry that he couldn’t handle. Except—except maybe this; to obey him without praise, reward, approval, or even mere acknowledgement.

💮let’s talk about making love by @istajmaal (25k) | Explicit

“That’s my name, baby, I’m Louis.” The voice on the phone inhales sharply, then says, “Gonna take my cock now, princess?”

Harry lets out a high-pitched mhmm and shudders as he pulls his fingers out of his hole, groping for the vibrator. “Nice to meet you,” he says, feeling a bit dizzy with how hard his untouched cock is.

Louis is just a simple phone sex line operator, but to Harry, he’s Daddy.

💮Push You Over The Edge (So I Can Pull You Back)by orphan_account (16k) | Explicit

It’s after a long two weeks of interviews and non-stop appearances that have got Harry stressed to the limit of yanking his hair out and throwing a fit and crying that Louis shows it to him, walks in the door with a sleek black bag in his left hand and inconspicuous brown one in his right.

💮Skipping Heartbeats by @1dfetusfics (3k) | Mature

Louis doesn’t talk much and for some reason he has a queasy feeling in his belly whenever he’s around boys now, especially around Harry.

💮Sweet Dreams by @dormant_bender (5k) | Explicit

When fantasies become reality.

💮Talk To Me, Baby by orphan_account (3k) | Explicit

Harry loves to talk and whisper little things to Louis during sex. Louis is pretty quiet, loves it, but just listens. But one day Harry really wants to hear Louis say some of the dirty things he loves Harry to do to him, so Harry really encourages Louis to talk to him during sex. Louis is self-conscious at first but then they really get into it and amazingness happens.

💮Thank the Hotel by orphan_account (4k) | Explicit

The hotel messed up the boys’ reservations for after their Red Nose Day performance, causing Louis and Harry to share a single bed hotel room. When Harry wakes up to Louis having a wet dream, he just can’t help himself. He’d have to remember to thank the hotel later.

💮To Be Loved To Be In Love by @Angel_Dust (129k) | Mature

At 18, every Sub must take a Match Test to find their Dom.

Poor, Farm kid Louis Tomlinson is matched with Rich, Businessman Harry Styles.

Or, where Harry thinks giving Money, expensive presents and luxuries proves how much you love someone, but Louis is about to turn his world upside down.

💮turn you on, make you radiate by @ballsdeepinjesus (15k)| Explicit

When he presses inside for the first time in weeks, he’s pretty sure he sees stars behind his eyes at the staggering sensation of Harry’s body squeezing every inch of him. When he bottoms out, he stays buried inside for a minute just to catch his bearings, listening as Harry takes sharp breaths beneath him. When he finally feels like he’s under control, he presses his lips against Harry’s ear and whispers, “Are you ready husband?“

Harry throws his head back and groans. “Call me your spouse.”

[…or, a self-indulgent snapshot of hl’s sex lives over the course of 10+ years]

💮Untitled sugardaddy fic by orphan_account (2k) | Explicit

Harry comes home from a long day at work and has his way with his baby. (That’s Louis.)

The one with all the daddy kink sex and spanking. It’s pure pwp.

✨You can also check My Fic Tags for more fics! ✨

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readysetstarker · 4 years

Note

Peter is a piano player at a piano bar that Tony either frequents or discovers 😘

this one was so much fun, i really liked writing it. definitely a mafia!au of some sort, idk. i didn’t really world build here, lmao

—

The Spider’s Web wasn’t the fanciest place to spend a quiet evening. It was a little hole in the wall in Queens, located in a neighborhood that was less than safe. There were cracks in a few of the windows, the patrons couldn’t exactly be described as “friendly,” and the staff always looked like they had a million better things to do than waste their time serving you.

There were hundreds of thousands of businesses more deserving of Tony’s time and money. His favorite bistro was less than an hour away, and he could easily have a car called for him the second he found himself bored of the gutter trash this place called company.

Whatever drivel he was being fed by a wannabe mobster, it went completely unheard under the tinkling sounds of the pianist sitting on stage. He sat elegantly on his bench, fingers picking and gliding over ivory keys as he made the best use of an instrument that had gone far too long without being tuned.

Should Tony replace his instrument, give him the tools he deserved? Did this place even deserve a jewel like that?

If it weren’t for the pianist (Peter, he had learned the boy’s name was Peter), Tony wouldn’t have returned to this place after a negotiation with the Toomes family left him with a knife jabbed deep into his thigh. Those long, slender, pretty fingers had looked gorgeous when they were soaked in his blood, applying pressure in a desperate attempt to staunch Tony’s bleeding.

He had no idea who Tony was, beyond a victim of poor circumstance.

That innocence, that desire to help, that ignorance to who he was...

Tony waved the bartender over, setting his half-finished drink down and tapping his foot to the beat of You’re My Thrill. She looked annoyed at him, her bright red lips pulled into a deep frown. That scowl disappeared the moment he flashed her a few Benjamins, and suddenly she was far too eager to please.

The man trying to sweet talk Tony looked offended that he was being ignored, but a sharp look sent him crawling back in humility, remembering his place in Tony’s presence.

“Give this to your pianist,” he said, pretending not to notice the sudden pout on the woman’s face as he placed the wad of cash in her open palm. “Ask him to play Clair de Lune, next. I don’t really like jazz.”

“Our band doesn’t take requests,” she started. Her fingers curled in over the money despite her protests.

Tony returned to sipping his drink, eyes locked on where Peter was moving with the music he played. “I didn’t ask for the band to play, I asked for him. And you can either make sure my request is carried out, or I have this place bulldozed and replaced with upscale apartments. It’s your decision.”

The look that followed sparked a chain of thought into whether or not Tony should let her live. Not even his enemies could get away with showing him that amount of disrespect.

He forgot all about her snide little lip curl when he saw her approach Peter at his bench between sets, whispering and jerking her thumb back to Tony when she told the rest of the band they wouldn’t be joining in. A single bill made it to Peter’s hands, and he smiled at Tony while the bartender scurried off the stage.

It was during the first few notes, high and beautiful, that Tony made the order to have her killed.

#starker #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #my work #Anonymous

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thatbangtanbloom · 5 years

Text

all that glitters | bangtan [4]

all that glitters | bangtan

prologue | chapter one|chapter two|chapter three|chapter 4

Characters: Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Jimin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Reader

AU(s): 1920s!AU, Mafia!AU, Historical!AU

Word Count: 1,384

The first time that Bangtan Rouge opened, it was said that all of New York flocked to the underground speakeasy. The numbers were in the thousands and a waitlist was at its maximum for the next two years within three hours of its opening. The speakeasy itself was a fortress that even law enforcement found themselves entangled into the flourishing business despite prohibition. The only possible way to get in was to know someone. It was not a matter of paying nor a matter of having a reputation that preceded oneself.

Given the magnitude of their reputation, it was lesser known about the individual members. The most well known one had to be Kim Taehyung, the man who happened to be your fondest acquaintance when he crossed paths with you. Just as you thought that he belonged on the silver screen, it came as no surprise that he was a fond favorite among the social elite in New York. It was said that even he could bring the Rockefellers down with a simple upturn of his jaw.

But why was it that he could not do the same to you?

“I think that we should give her what she wants,” Taehyung finds himself speaking as the seven members of Bangtan sit at the luxurious restaurant across from Saks Fifth Avenue. The seven of them garner stares, clad in perfectly pressed suits with handsome features such as their own. “She also works for a small newspaper. Considering that, I think that it would do more harm than good by not informing her-”

The leader of the seven, Namjoon, sits up straighter at Taehyung’s words before pursing his lips. “I beg your pardon?” He asks. He was always more apt to handle the quality control when it came to outsourcing. “If I did now know any better, I would be thinking that you are growing soft on her.”

“He wouldn’t let me deliver the message to her in person either,” Jungkook adds with a bite of his lip. Jungkook’s omission makes the others stare at Taehyung.

Taehyung frowns deeply before shaking his head. “You said yourself that we should keep our friends close and our enemies closer. When we had the idea about the Five Point Gang* and sent them off to Chicago. Do you think a journalist can cost us our reputation?”

“She could expose us from within.” Namjoon replies with a purse of his lips. “What makes you so keen on us keeping this girl alive? You said yourself that her newspaper is small. It won’t surmount to a lot of influence.”

Jimin runs his fingers through his brightly colored hair. It would have warranted looks from more people if it were not the 1920s in New York City. It was a time to dine and to stand out. Speaking of standing out, Jimin parts his lips to speak. “We have made frequent visits to her workplace and following her. She has roommates too. It would be too risky just to kill her off. Besides, I think having a feminine touch would be interesting-”

“I can assure you that she is not feminine.” Taehyung mutters under his breath. “From my experience with the women I have dealt with compared to her, she does not seem like the type to back down easily. She must be crafty to have made it into the speakeasy in the first place. We do not let just anyone in.”

Jungkook nods slowly in response. He knew first hand as a bodyguard and member of combat the people who tried to get in but never managed to without having the know. “Why not give her a grace period to decide?”

“What happens if she says no?” The oldest asks finally.

Namjoon hums as he rubs the back of his neck before pausing. “We’ll give her an offer she can’t refuse. We’ll give her three days to decide it. I will see her tonight and make sure that she knows that we mean business.”

“Why not me?” Taehyung asks with a raised brow. “Isn’t it my position to keep face?”

Namjoon nods at Taehyung, “It is, but sometimes some people need a bit more.. Persuasion.” He smiles almost like the Cheshire cat. “Three days it is, then.”

The next three days of your life proved to be the longest of your life. You struggled with writing your articles while you were at work. The reason was that the local florist had delivered you seven dozen roses to your shared apartment that morning. The questions from both Margot and Elizabeth never seemed to stop. The two of them seemed eager to know who the handsome stranger was (it no doubt was Taehyung) and where all of the gifts were coming from.

“YN… you have to tell us what is going on here!” Elizabeth exclaims as she walks around the small coffee table to sit down in front of you. “Don’t tell me that you’re getting married on us, are you?”

You furrow your brows together before immediately shaking your head. “Why would I be getting married?”

“Have you seen the amount of gifts you have been getting lately? That one really handsome babe who keeps making his way through here?” Elizabeth sighs before shaking her head. “YN-ah…. What are the odds that the boy who falls for you is the bee’s knees?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes at her words. She could not be any further from the truth. “He hasn’t fallen for me. They just don’t want me to disclose what I found at the speakeasy - which, by the way - happens to be nothing at all!” You sigh before shaking your head.

Margot walks into the room, almost breezily as her lips purse together. “Do you know what you are getting yourself into with trying to investigate them? You cover the sports column, not the underground world that they are a part of.” She sighs before sitting down to begin to paint her nails. “It just seems so unlike yu for you to be investigating them-”

“How is that so unlike me?” You reply with a deep frown on your lips. “All I wanted was to cover serious cases. Getting insight about Bangtan Rouge would bring the Times back to the top! Who says that women can only seriously cover fashion or sports-”

Margot scoffs as she looks at you and shakes her head. “YN, sweetheart, I love and admire your optimism.. But don’t you think that you’re the wrong kind of person to be covering that sort of thing?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask with a deep frown settling into your features as you stand up.

“It’s not safe.” Margot says without skipping a beat as she squeezes your hand. “I don’t think that you should be risking your life just to cover some stupid speake--”

The loud sound of knocking earns a silence among the three of you. Both Margot and Elizabeth immediately turn to face you, almost expectant since you tended to be the recipient of most things.

You immediately walked over to the door, swallowing hard as you turn the white doorknob in your hand. A part of you almost does not want to know who is on the other side as you pull it back to reveal two men - so familiar to you that it almost makes you jump. One is the man who gave you the umbrella in the rain and the other is the one who had taken your coat and helped chase you with the black-haired man.

“YN. I hope you have considered our offer,” Comes the deep baritone voice of the taller man. His dimpled smile contrasts with the suggestive tone of his voice. “Perhaps we can talk about it over dinner?”

Every part of you screams to not go. This was the same man that you saw with stained blood on his suit the morning you ran. However, this was also the same man who had every ounce of information that you desired. It was almost as though he were the apple that Eve had been tempted with.

And like Eve, you’re eager to bite into the apple.

- - - - - - - - -

Just a small update and point of view about the boys. Don’t be a silent reader! Feel free to send your reactions. :)

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

don't play the fool now (multi) - chapter 3 - lily2

[ summary ] : aquaria is having a ball of a time with her new mission though sharon can’t help but be worried for her daughter and shea has definitely bitten off more than she can chew.

[ authors note ] : I’m not dead! just busy, I’m not trying to neglect this au, I hope y'all enjoy, can you tell I’m struggling to write characters that aren’t sasha / katya / adore ?

— ✧*。

Sharon nervously sat in her chair, attempting to play it off by staring at her phone though she quickly put it down and turned, sipping her drink in the seclusion of her office, the anxiety in her face must’ve clearly been showing as Alaska snickered, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Jesus, I can smell your worry from about a million miles away, she will be absolutely fine.”

“You think so?”

Of course Sharon trusts Aquaria with everything in her, that was her own teammate and more importantly her daughter. Sure, there wasn’t any official paperwork truly stamped and saying in bold print that they were related or that she was adopted but never did she feel so strongly about someone in a motherly sense, Aquaria came when she was ten and when Sharon was twenty two, a hopeless and homeless child who was tossed place to place constantly until her parent’s rotted in jail and she had nowhere to be but the streets.

Sharon couldn’t get all the credit for finding and raising Aquaria, it was really Alaska who first found her, passed out and extremely cold in the dead hit of winter and took it upon herself to take the risk and bring her back to the underground, Bianca was of course furious but now she kicked herself for it: Aquaria was loyal, she was beautiful, she was intelligent and didn’t once speak of her old life, thankful for what she was and where she was brought into.

“Of course, she’s your daughter, with quotes around the word.” Alaska smiled brightly and stole a sip of her alcoholic drink, “Jesus that’s something.” She coughed out the words before clearing her throat, “Besides, she’s been asking Bianca for a mission for who even knows how long, she’s trustworthy and just as good as her mother I’m assuming.”

The flirtatious nature of her tone didn’t sit too well in the moment with Sharon who was just stressed, wanting to hear from her atleast a text but she knew she could ruin the entire mission if she did, her nerves would have to spike down for the moment and luckily the best distraction was Alaska since Bianca was also gone but more to see Katya, that wasn’t a major concern.

It had been three hours, Alaska counted for Sharon she had waited in her office, staring at the clock and occasionally laughing at some weird joke or story the blonde had beside her to tell, to get her a bit out of the mood and herself again.

Curling a piece of hair around her fingers Alaska gave a kiss to Sharon’s head, “Relax.” She whispered, she repeated it as she gently grabbed her shoulders and crouched a bit to be at eye level with her, “I know, I know, it’s an assignment and I should know she’s trustworthy and trained well, I know.”

Sharon had been with Bianca from the beginning of it all, they met at fifteen, Bianca raised well into the underground markets of hitmen, mafia, druga, violence, all that— it didn’t take long for her to absorb all of it and own it, all under her fingertips and so oddly at peace and calm with it, almost as if it was boring and the expected. When a dazed Sharon begging for something to do, definitely having a few kills under her belt even with her age, a job, Bianca quickly jumped on it and here she was: thirty two and still changed her hair color every three or four months.

And then there was Alaska who joined right after Sharon, at nineteen she had just come from escaping the cops and her own problems, hearing about the underground from Jinkx who knew her since they were kids. She was definitely Sharon’s favorite and anyone could sense it from a mile away, their relationship however was a bit complicated. Not complicated but maybe strained— Alaska didn’t want commitment or a relationship in a business where she could be killed or targeted at any moment and Sharon could only nod and let whatever happened, happen.

Multiple times of kissing, sharing a bed, sleeping together, everything possible had happened to them already. Alaska didn’t ever mind the affection or them being obvious in front of the rest of the teammates, it was really just when Sharon tried to make things permanent that Alaska had a problem, never wanted to go on a date, no cutesy romantic gestures allowed.

Alaska didn’t want commitment.

It wasn’t them playing around either, the jealously that boiled through Alaska’s veins whenever Sharon spoke about men or women flirting with her on various missions was enough of a satisfaction to her, seeing the blonde so winded and so aggravated.

Bianca, Sharon, Alaska, Jinkx and Bob were the original five who had met, become engulfed in the business and really built the team up but it was Bianca (who always had the final say regardless), Sharon, Bob and Raja who had the power and leadership tendencies with their own circles and ranks though it always all boiled back to the throne, as Alaska called it, which was Bianca unsuprisingly to everyone.

A sudden burst of the door had Sharon completely jump from her seat and dust off her dress, looking at Alaska who looked around and shrugged, unaware of who it was though Aquaria or Violet seemed like the most viable options.

“Mom!”

Sharon heard it in a voice so clear that she ran out her office, Alaska shaking her head. “Aquaria!” She yelled out her door before the two made eye contact and quickly collapsed at the couch into eachother, “Fuck kid, you can’t just not text me.” She kissed her head and smiled, gasping once she looked at her face and noticed the dried blood from her nose and the skin open on her neck in three slashes, “I’m fine, I’m fine, really!”

The panic running through Sharon was enough for Alaska to widen her eyes looking at how deep the cuts actually ran and went to go out the door, “I’m getting some stuff, hang on.”

Aquaria sniffled and groaned as Sharon was quick to take a tissue and brush the dried blood off, “I’m fine, really!” She insisted, her rose gold sequin dress was stained with blood at the sides but she ignored that, usual part of the job, focusing more on her face and looking at her neck, “No you’re not, what happened?” She spoke as she bit her tongue, they looked awful and battered.

“Well we killed him, Violet took the shot because he punched me after I tried to hold him down, I should’ve thought through the fact he was about five inches taller than me and definitely twice my size.” She laughed though Sharon didn’t find it too amusing so she continued with a small grin, “Basically we brawled and fingernails got involved but—” she showed her hand that had perfectly sharp and studded long stiletto nails, “I think we know who won that.”

She had to grin a bit at Aquaria’s clean and primed nails, “I’m fine, I’m fine.” She muttered to Sharon who worriedly hugged her and sighed into her shoulder, pulling back and nodding, she was okay just bruised up but they got the target, Aquaria held up a wallet and smirked wildly, Sharon laughed and clapped, “So even is he, Bianca didn’t tell me too much.”

“So originally we needed to find his daughter, more for finding out who this original person was, Bianca said he was Alaska’s old laywer who betrayed her and all that jazz but instead, we found something else, his daughter was far too busy with poker to notice that his own assistant was there.”

Now I’m starting to see why Bianca didn’t want to tell me too much.

“So we flirted around, got drinks, acted normal, all of that preliminary shit.” Aquaria ran a hand through her straight hair, “Long story short we got to a private area, reserved for special members, killed him, grabbed his wallet and ran.”

“So this isn’t the father? Just his assistant?” The disappointment in Sharon’s voice quick to make Aquaria stand and pull out some of the cards in the wallet, “Yes but guess what? He has a copy of every ID and identification of the father since he was his personal assistant.”

Slowly she puzzled it together, “Because of security measures, they’d never let him carry it since he is so desired and wanted and easy to rob let’s face it, the man is beyond his years, but the assistant would be a smart choice since no one really gives a shit, no one would show up at his house thinking he had any good information or valuables of the guy but he does, all in his leather wallet.”

She threw it on the table, it was slightly perfectly clean and Sharon couldn’t help but groan, smiling and hugging her daughter, “I’m such a proud mother.” Aquaria’s eyes glimmered with nothing but pride, “I’m so glad, it was fun and sometimes a bit tense but, I’m glad.”

The door opened again and they both sat, Aquaria laying down and putting her head in Sharon’s lap, beyond tired. Alaska nodded once more, “I’m back and with the best medic!” She winked before Peppermint presented herself and carried her in her two boxes, all full of supplies.

“Sorry to intrude so late.”

Peppermint was far too soft for her own good, it was almost suprising she was still here though she was definitely the best medic they had, she had a damn bachelor’s of science in biology until she decided to drop out, school and especially nursing school far too much to handle. Her real name was Agnes but no one really used it, Peppermint was her nickname and it stuck with everyone for years. The lingering risk of hospitals and having to expose identities was why they all were so thankful for the medics they had with them.

“Oh c'mon, you’re acting like your job isn’t important.” Aquaria sweetly replied, “I know it is, I hear it everyday.” Peppermint gently moving Aquaria around and crouching so she should look around at her nose, “Okay, are you currently having any difficulty breathing?”

“I did when being driven back home but once I cleaned out all the blood that was dried I’m breathing easier, it’s just a bit more difficult.” Peppermint nodded and glanced from back before coming in close again, “Well, it’s not good if you’re not breathing easy and I can tell from a mile away your nose is crooked, you broke your nose is what I’m trying to say.”

As expected, Aquaria didn’t find it much of a surprise though Sharon almost wanted to collapse to which Alaska sat right next to her and latched onto her arms, “It’s fine, she’s fine.” She muttered close to her ear before nodding at Sharon’s uneasy glance.

“As for these around your neck, these are awful, I say we do these as soon as possible because they look open and god forbid you get an infection, do you mind doing it now or would you rather wait in the morning? You’ll sleep through it or pass out either way with the medicine.”

Aquaria looked at Sharon who only shrugged and left it up to her, “Yeah, let’s do it now.” No hesitation in her voice from the reply as Peppermint smiled and helped her up, taking her by her arm and making sure she didn’t touch anything and told Aquaria to lift her head a bit. “I’ll take her back when she’s finished, don’t worry about her, she’s in good hands!” The door closed and Sharon was left with Alaska, she completely had all faith in their medics but nothing could really make her worry less about Aquaria, it was the “motherly instincts” as Bianca would tell her when she was far too paralyzed about Aquaria being hurt or bruised up.

“She’s an adult, she knows what she’s doing, don’t worry.” Pressing a kiss to her head before shaking her hair, grabbing Sharon’s hand, “It’s late, let’s sleep please.”

For once she didn’t refuse and nodded, getting up knowing it be better to just rest and wake up with a more clear mind in the morning, Aquaria would be fine, she would be fine and getting all the stitches done meant she wouldn’t have to worry about infection or other underlying problems.

She will be okay.

*.✧

“Pep, I met the most gorgeous girl yesterday during the mission.” Shea whispered, hitting her close friends shoulder, Peppermint rolling her eyes, “You’re playing with fire if you’re trying to win a girl over especially one you met while on a damn mission.”

Completely lovestruck Shea flushed, laughing and feeling all her nerves come out. “Well about that…” She begun as Peppermint crossed her arms, extremely curious to where this conversation was going as they sat and ate, the food from the small Chinese market across the block, there was absolutely nothing Peppermint loved more than Asian food and if ten dollars meant twenty five dumplings then she and Shea were sold.

She plopped one of the dumplings into the soy sauce before waving a hand, wanting Shea to continue, she covered her mouth to speak, “And?” She said on the edge of what exactly Shea wanted to say.

“You know Katya right?”

Peppermint glared, “I would hope so after being here for five fucking years!” She yelled laughing as her friend shook her head, trying not to laugh at how stupid the question was once she said it a dumpling in her mouth, she swallowed before continuing, tapping the marble table that they sat in, biting her lip, knowing she couldn’t possibly lie or get out of this.

“It’s her sister.”

The second the three words left her lips Peppermint gasped and almost dropped her entire bowl of dumplings, quickly catching herself and slamming her plate on the table before looking around, knowing no one would be up at seven anyway, they all slept in until noon unless Bianca called for it.

“Please tell me you’re joking.” She whispered as she stared at Shea square in the face, “I need to know everything and anything!” She yelped, clapping her hands before pointing, “But don’t get it twisted, I don’t support this, you’re putting yourself in real danger here messing around with her sister who Bianca said is now a detective.”

Even Shea’s face bleached white at that point, “She— she’s a what?” Her face and tone unclear and confused, Sasha hadn’t brought it up at all though in retrospect why would she? In a casino, late at night, that seems a bit too much to give away. “She’s a detective Shea, Bianca told me when I was getting Aquaria stitched up.”

Suddenly everything became more clear to Shea: why she hesitated to speak more about Katya, keeping the questions closed on her job, why she seemed so anxious someone had spoken to her, why they exchanged numbers— Sasha was a detective and of course blissfully unaware of what Shea was doing as a job, seeing her as a normal human which was refreshing to say the least but this was a bad combination already.

“But she’s so gorgeous and intelligent and she just oozes personality and wit.” She whined to Peppermint who could only sit and laugh at her misfortunate encounter gone right and also wrong.

“Well, I’m not going to snitch, that’s not my job.” She paused to laugh before clearing her throat and extending a hand to Shea who grabbed it and frowned, “But I’m going to say this, she might be Katya’s sister but that doesn’t mean we can be soft and nice to her, she’s still a detective and from what Bianca told me, Katya understands that we’d do what we have to if circumstances rise and she tries to play us out and locate what we do.”

God, you are playing with me too hard right about now.

“I understand.” She swallowed her words hard, knowing that dammit there was something there! Shea hated to sound like a romance novel and blinded by her emotions but Sasha was different and interested in her just as Shea was interested back.

“Good morning!” Yelled Vanessa who quickly stole a dumpling from Shea’s plate, as expected. “These are fucking great, I should start waking up earlier to actually go on food adventures with you guys.” Peppermint smiled sweetly, “It’s the perks of insomnia that comes with the job.”

The Pureto Rican cackled, “Okay but seriously, this is from Bianca.” She tossed the black file to Shea as Peppermint leaned back into her chair, offering her more food which she graciously accepeted, going at it immediately.

“I’m gonna go.” Shea stood up and grabbed her bag and phone, leaving the file after she skimmed through it and landed on what she needed to do, immediately getting up. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” She replied quickly to a confused Vanessa and Peppermint who glanced with furrowed brows, not even getting a word in before Shea shut the door and was running down the building.

She knew she wouldn’t but Peppermint grabbed the file anyway and opened it, beyond bewildered by Shea’s response, staring at Vanessa out of curiosity who only shrugged with innocent hands, “Hey now, I only delivered this, I didn’t take one peak.”

Putting the file down she sighed, shaking her head, completely unsurprised at what the file entailed for Shea.

“She has a lot of trouble on her hands.”

#rpdr fanfiction #aquaria #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck 5000 #peppermint #shea coulee #vanessa vanije mateo #shalaska #sashea #lesbian au #hitman au #detective au #dptfn #don't play the fool now #concrit welcome #submission #roza

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hyperfixation-loto · 5 years

Text

Do not go gentle into that good night

I decided to write my own fics thanks to @corvo-bianco-lilacs who inspired me with her amazing writings.

Thanks to @yennefer-of-rivia for helping me correct it and @wolkovk for this brilliant idea.

@witchaddiction since you’re a fan of Sheala/Philippa, I hope you enjoy it too

Here’s the first chapter of this mafia AU, enjoy !

Chapter One :

Berlin, Germany, December 4th, 21h05 :

« What was that, Radovid ? »

A woman with fierce amber eyes asked the man who was tied up to a chair, in the middle of the abandoned building. She looked at him with disdain written all over her face. She was a woman of incredible beauty and everything about her screamed power.

« I didn’t want to do it ! I swear ! Please Philippa, you have to believe me ! »

The man named Radovid looked pleadingly at the woman in front of him, sweaty and bloodied from all the beating he had received. Not from Philippa herself of course, she wouldn’t dirty her hands with the like of him, but from her men. One men in particular who had already retreated back to the HQ.

« Philippa, please, it wasn’t me ! »

Philippa looked at him with cold eyes, not letting any emotion show on her face. After a silent moment, she turned her head towards her men. She considered them pawns, never taking count of their safety or well being. After all, they were only just men crawling before her to sooth their need for money. And oh boy, did she have money.

« See that ? » Philippa gestured her revolver towards the trembling boy. « That, is what I call a treacherous little cockroach, who wouldn’t hesitate to betray me the minute I turn my back. »

She scoffed, her red painted lips contorting into a smile of pure hatred and glared at him again while her men fidgeted but said nothing in fear of awakening a deeper and much more dangerous.

« I never took you for a beggar, really. It’s pathetic. I taught you better than that. »

She let out a disappointed sighed and softly shook her head, putting on a fake sad look, staring at Radovid who sank deeper into the uncomfortable wooden chair.

« Nothing to say boy ? What a shame. »

Philippa extended her arm, pressing the silver revolver into Radovid’s forehead, which only made him tremble more. The thought that tonight would probably be his last filled him with fear.

« Wait ! Please wait ! » he yelled, with a trembling voice, cracking under the pressure. Philippa slightly relaxed her arm and cocked one perfect eyebrow at him. « I can tell you who ordered me to do it ! I know who wants you dead ! »

« Oh really, you know ? You decided that just now, huh ? Just before my finger touched the trigger. How convenient. » Philippa said with sarcasm clearly present in her voice. Seeing that Radovid still said nothing, she pressed her high heeled boot into his groin. He let out a painful yelp. « Well speak, dog, I’m getting really impatient. »

« It’s Sheala ! »

The revelation was followed by a deadly silence. Philippa retreated her foot, clenching her jaw. Conflict was apparent in her eyes but she said nothing.

A woman with long wavy blond hair walks out of the shadow, placing herself beside Philippa, with a look of disbelief. Philippa glanced at her, still silent and nodded towards her before placing herself behind Radovid. He whimpered while the other woman advanced before him. He knew her of course, who would not. The associate of Philippa Eilhart, Margarita Laux-Antilles.

« And how exactly can we believe you ? We know you have always hated Philippa, since the day she took you in as a child. The meeting with the other gangs was just the perfect opportunity for you to make a move on Philippa’s life. And now you suddenly claim to know who wanted her dead ? Do you take us for fools ? »

It’s true, Radovid had always hated Philippa. She was a vindictive woman who only cared about her business and the means to achieve her rise to power. But it was not that part that bothered him, it was the fact that he knew, deep inside him, that Philippa killed his father in her ascension to power. She had then taught him everything when he was a child, from business to killing.

« It’s alright Rita, he will tell me the truth. »

She harshly put her two hands on his shoulders, squeezed him and whispered viciously in his ear. « He has a strong desire to live after all. Look at him, all sweaty and begging. So, tell me Radovid, why would you do that, hmmm ? What could push a coward such as yourself, to betray me ? You knew that if you failed, the consequences would be terrible. »

Berlin, Germany, two days before, city’s underground :

The entire big shots of the mob were meeting in Berlin’s underground for an assembly. The Yakuza, the Italian, Sicilian, Russian mafia and many others were there. Everyone was reunited in a big underground concert like room, with tables everywhere around. The different members of the mob sat at their own table, waiting for the meeting to begin.

Each table family had her guards posted besides their table, all ready to jump into action if someone tried something. They were all waiting for the opening speech which would be given by none other than the ex counselor of Vizimir, Sigismund Dijkstra.

« I heard the Lodge will be here tonight, Eilhart might even make an appearance. »

A Japanese man wearing black clothes whispered to this his partner. They were from the Yakuza mafia, the tattoos giving them away.

« Wait… She actually exists? I thought she was some spooky legend since we never saw her at a meeting. » the other murmured.

« Of course she exists, dumbass. How could you think that all she has done could be a legend ? Damn, she’s an icon. I think i’m gonna ask her an autograph. »

His partner looked at him with wide eyes « You do that and you’ll probably get shot before you can say ‘Eilhart-sama !’ » he chuckled while the other punched him in the shoulder.

The door to the room opened, emitting a strident sound. Everyone stopped talking to see who came in.

« Talk about being discreet. » One of the newly arrived woman said. It was Triss Merigold, member of the inner circle of the Lodge. She was wearing a long green dress that fitted her form, her red hair tied in a loose bun. She scanned the room with her green eyes.

The room began to whisper their astonishment.

« Eilhart, she’s here ! » whispered a man.

« Heh, she finally makes her big entrance. » said another.

The whispers kept on until a single grave voice rose in the room.

« Everyone quiet down, you starting to piss me of. »

Sigismund Dijkstra rose from his seat and walked towards the scene.

« Now that everyone has calmed the fuck down, we can begin. »

Philippa Eilhart, wearing a long fur coat, shot a smirk at Dijkstra and went towards her table, followed by two other women. Margarita was the one dressed with a long dark blue dress. The other woman had dirty blonde hair and was wearing jeans and a leather jacket. She was quite a sight amongst suits and dresses, not caring a bit about them.

The last one who followed was Radovid walking anxiously behind them, wearing a black suit. He didn’t seem well and couldn’t stop sweating. Triss shot him a disgusted look.

« Radovid, Triss, go sit at the table, I will join you in a moment. » Philippa spoke sternly. Triss sighed and looked dejectedly at Radovid who directed his eyes to the dirty ground.

« Why do I have to babysit baldy ? »

Triss didn’t like Radovid. Well, nobody from the inner circle liked Radovid. He was considered a weakling and a coward, despite what Philippa taught him as a child. They never understood the motives behind his ‘adoption’ but never said a word to Philippa, concluding that if she had done this, it was for clear reasons. And none of them doubted Philippa’s decisions.

« Because I said so. Now go. »

Triss mumbled and moved towards their table followed straight by Radovid. Philippa watched them go with an unreadable look on her face.

« What is it Phil ? »

Margarita looked at Philippa with concern.

« Not to be a downer but the speech began, shouldn’t we sit down ? » Assire, the one with the leather jacket asked. She was the quiet type, never talking to say nothing. And she certainly hated those gatherings, she just wanted to go back to the manor to take care of her cat. Why did Philippa have chose her for this ? She sighed.

« Not yet. I have reason to believe tonight is the night someone will try to kill me. »

« Is that why you send Radovid and Triss away ? You believe it’s one of them ? » asked Margarita.

Philippa just scoffed. « No. Well not Triss at least, I send her with him to keep an eye on him. He seems suspiciously angsty tonight, and I know for sure he still holds a grudge against me. Not to mention he- »

The door of the room opened, cutting her mid-sentence.

Memories came flooding back in Philippa’s head upon seeing the new arrivant. A woman in her thirties, hair cut just below her ears, sharp eyes looking right at her. Sheala de Tancarville, just as beautiful as she remembered, her soft features not betraying her manipulative nature.

She was the leader of the Kovir Organization, created five years ago, a few months after everything had collapsed around Philippa. They were quickly rising to power and were feared and respected by everyone, but still not nearly as much as the Lodge was.

The two women knew each other way before they both were big names in the mafia. Rivalry between the two was always there and most of the time it was violent and deadly.

They stared at each other with intensity while Margarita, Assire and Sheala’s men stood there awkwardly, observing the exchange.

« Damn, I could cut the sexual tension in this room with a knife. » said Assire earning her a sharp glare by both Philippa and Sheala, quickly shutting her up.

« Philippa. » Sheala broke the silence « I am surprised you found the time to come to this meeting, you’re always so busy killing competition. » The snarky remark came with a smirk.

Philippa returned the smirk. « You know how business is, killing, money, making an appearance so men shit their fancy pants. » Sheala just narrowed her eyes. « Well if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go take my seat now. » With those words, Sheala turned her back and walked to the nearest free table.

« Let’s go. » Philippa, Margarita and Assire joined Triss and Radovid at their own table.

« Took you long enough, this one’s no fun! » said an exasperated Triss « What took you so long anyway ? ».

« Nothing important. Now keep your mouth shut, the idiot in charge’s about to speak. » said Philippa, already bored with this meeting, and seeing Dijkstra didn’t appease her mood.

Dijkstra continued speaking, and servers passed between tables to distribute drinks. Philippa took a glass of red wine and sipped it, she then placed it on the table and turned to look at the man on the scene.

He was speaking about the recent treaty signed between the different family’s, forbidding any violence between them in the city of Berlin, the current “Peace City” of the mob.

While everyone was looking away, Radovid nervously opened the tiny bottle he had in hand and put the liquid in Philippa’s drink. He gulped down his own drink and slightly relaxed. The task was done, now all he had to do was to wait. He was sure his plan would be successful, simple but deadly, no one had seen him.

Philippa stared at her drink with a blank expression, making Radovid tense. She suspected something, of course she did, her paranoid nature always saving her. She took her drink in hand, twirling the content. Then she hummed and made a gesture towards one of the guard, indicating for him to come closer.

« Drink that, darling. »

He was a young boy in his twenties. He wasn’t sure what to do, why was she offering him her drink ? He hesitated, so Triss spoke, without looking at him.

« You heard her. »

Philippa set her eyes on him, waiting. Radovid watched the whole scene, preparing himself to run. He was fucked, completely and entirely fucked. The minute the boy drank, Philippa would know it was him. Never would she suspect one of her inner circle, the only suspect here was him. He knew that. Before the young guard could take a sip, Radovid stood abruptly and made a run towards the exit.

Philippa watched him go, bored and disappointed. Rita, Assire and Triss scoffed, looking at him running like he thought he had a chance.

« So it’s like that. » she clapped her hands twice. The guards were ready to run after him « Catch him. I want him alive. »

« Yes ma’am ! »

They ran with their guns out, like dogs after a rabbit. The entire room stood, ready to make a move, all whispering.

« The fuck’s going on ? »

Dijkstra, still on stage, exasperate at the display glared at Philippa.

« Stop frowning Sigi, it makes you even uglier. » Philippa said, smirking at him while he threw her his most deadly look.

Meanwhile Sheala eclipsed herself from the room. She watched Radovid running at her.

« Help me ! You paid me to do this, not ? Help me ! » he yelled desperately, the guards catching up.

« Yes I did, just so I could see you fail and be removed from Philippa’s family. »

He looked at her in disbelief. He prepared to take out his gun, but he had no time as Sheala knocked him unconscious with hers.

« Boys, he’s all yours. »

Berlin, Germany, present day :

« She-she paid me ! She paid me to do it ! » Radovid yelled, trembling like a leaf in Philippa’s grip.

« Why ? »

« I don’t know ! I swear to God I don’t know ! Revenge ? Sport ? I don’t fucking know ! »

Philippa chuckled. She placed herself in front of him again.

« Leave God out of this, Radovid. I want everybody back at the manor, except for you two » she pointed at two massive guards. « Rita, you too, go back. I’ll deal with him. »

Margarita nodded « As you wish, I’ll see you later. » She walked out of the building and rode off with the rest of the men.

The two guards posted themselves beside Philippa.

Radovid stared at her, fear written all over his face.

« Well, you’ve really been nothing but a disappointment to me.»

« Plea- please… »

« Oh you can beg all you want. » she circles him like a lioness circles her prey. « No one will come to save you tonight. And you screwed up the chances you had with me. » She pointed her gun at his head. « Such a shame. » she pouted.

« Philippa, do-don’t do this ! We can come to an arrangement ! »

He desperately tugged at his robes.

« Sure, sure Radovid, once you’re dead. »

He yelped and then a defeating sound was heard in the building. She looked at the dead corpse, no emotion showing. The two guards gulped.

« A good thing done. Now, let’s go back to the manor, I’m starving. »

She walked out of the building, followed by the two and entered her black BWM. One of the guards took the wheel while the other sat beside him.

They rode off on the main road, unaware that a car was following them.

« Don’t lose her. »

Sheala de Tancarville sat at the back row of the car, looking straight ahead at Philippa’s car. They came at a descent and the car before them was going faster instead of slowing down.

« What’s going on ? »

Back in Philippa’s car, she noticed this too.

« What are you doing you dimwit ? Slow down ! »

The guard panicked and put his foot on the breaks.

« Ma’am ! I think someone trafficked the breaks ! »

« For fuck’s sake! » she deadpanned.

They were arriving at a crossroad, driving way too fast, with a truck coming from their right. Philippa was seriously starting to panic, but she hadn’t much time for that before the truck hit their car creating a deadly shock.

Sheala jumped of her seat, scared for Philippa. She shouldn’t, she shouldn’t be scared like that. Not for her. Not after all that has happened. But she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t stop looking at how the car spin until it crashed in a building.

« Go ! At the car right now ! We have to-» save her. She stopped herself, but her men understood and sped up towards the car. Once it had stopped, Sheala ran to the car, fast as lightning.

« Philippa ! » she cried in anguish. « Philippa can you hear me ?! »

The car was on it’s hood, oil leaking out of it. Sheala cursed and kneeled to look inside, not caring about the two guards who were probably dead. She saw Philippa, unconscious and bleeding.

« Lads ! Help me get her out, quickly! The car’s about the explode ! »

« But, ma’am, shouldn’t we leave her there? Didn’t you wanted her dead? » asked one of them.

No, no. She wouldn’t let her die like that, she couldn’t.

« It was not a question. » she said, voice deadly.

They hurried at her side, slowly pulling Philippa out of the car. One of the men took her in his arms and carried her to their own car. Sheala followed and sat down, taking Philippa’s bloodied body in her arms, gripping her as if she was going to vanish in thin air.

Don’t die. Please don’t die. Why? Why was she thinking like this? The whole purpose of her gang was to take Philippa’s seat of power, it was about revenge. But now, seeing her like that, it revived bad memories. Memories she had sworn to forget. Tears welled up in her eyes but she didn’t let them escape.

« Where to ma’am ? »

Sheala thought about the one person who wasn’t affiliated with any gang. She had no choice, it was that or letting her Phil die. Her Phil ? What the fuck am I thinking.

« Yennefer. Go to Yennefer. »

If Phil made it out alive, she would probably hate her more than she already did.

#fics #my fics #the witcher universe #the witcher #mafia au #philippa x sheala #philippa eilhart #Sheala de Tancarville #the lodge of sorceresses #margarita laux antille #Triss Merigold #Yennefer of Vengerberg #assire van anahid #radovid #sigismund dijkstra

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confidenceatitsfinest · 5 years

Text

The Fire Was Screaming Out Your Name (And I Watched You Burn)

Chapter 4

Pairing: Jungkook/Jimin

Description: Mafia au

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Crossposted on AO3

Author’s Note: HAHA Hi…I’m back and writing after a super long hiatus. But if anyone still remembers this fic, here’s the next chapter and I hope you enjoy even though it’s been forever and I feel super bad about that.

Jimin showed no signs of surprise, but that was largely because he had disciplined himself to rarely show signs of things affecting him in case they were used as a weapon to take him down. He could feel Jungkook’s muscles tense beside him and he internally grimaced. Even though he too knew little about his subordinate’s past, he still understood why the Jeon family name brought such anxiety.

Jimin paused thoughtfully before speaking, “And what do you want me to do about it?” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and folding his arms over his chest.

Suwoong blanched, “Park Jimin, I don’t care how powerful you are right now. Are you going to refuse to help your own flesh and blood?”

Jimin’s eyes hardened, mouth in a harsh line. The air was stifling with the sudden plummet of mood.

“Jungkook, get the car ready. We’re leaving.” His voice was devoid of any emotion besides traces of boiling hatred that only Jungkook detected from the sheer amount of time he’d spent with the mafia boss.

Jungkook fumbled with his phone to call and chauffeur as Jimin stood up to leave. Suwoong jerked up from his sitting position and cried indignantly, “You’re a disgrace to the Park name, abandoning your own family like this. If you leave this room right now little brother, you will never get any help from the Park family ever again.”

Jimin turned his head to look at him, “As of now, I think your precious Park family needs me more than I need you. I’d gladly sever all ties with cockroaches who just won’t die.”

With an air of finality, Jimin threw open the door and sauntered at with Jungkook closely tailing him. He scoffed when he heard Suwoong’s frustrated yells and swears to make him regret his decisions.

With all the pain they’ve brought him, he’d rather they be killed off from this world for the benefit of all. He didn’t care who does it or how it’s done, he really didn’t care if he wasn’t associated with the Parks anymore. Good riddance. I’d rather take Jungkookie’s last name over my own anyday.

If the Jeon’s posed to be a problem to him, then he’ll worry about it. As of now, their intentions are nothing but appealing to him. A note of curiosity lingered at the back of his mind, however. Was Jungkook really related to the growing organization or was it merely a coincidence?

Jungkook was quiet in the car back home, wringing his hands so nervously that Jimin didn’t have the heart to interrupt him and potentially startle the remaining color out of his face. The air was tense and Jimin could feel the stress-induced headache start to pulse behind his eyes. He didn’t make a sound as he walked back into his house and back to his room, knowing Jungkook was still silently following.

He sat down heavily on his bed’s duvet, leaning his weight back on his hands and crossing his legs. Jimin was by no means relaxed, but right now Jungkook looked ready to faint from pure nerves and his priority right now was to calm the younger. He told himself it was solely because he couldn’t have a malfunctioning subordinate. Not because he cared about the other more than he should.

“Jungkookie,” his eyes softened pitifully when he noticed the boy jump from shock, “Come here.”

The younger made his way to Jimin’s bedside quickly, scrambling to at least do his job correctly. He dipped his head to wait for further instructions.

“Undress me, I want to take a bath tonight,” he looked up at Jungkook expectantly.

“Yes, Jimin hyung.” Jungkook reached forward to start unbuttoning Jimin’s black silk shirt, fingers working deftly. He peeled the clothing off the older’s body and gently folded it to be washed later in the week.

Jimin’s body was bare of scars, no signs of past injuries anywhere and Jungkook wouldn’t be surprised if he had only gotten a couple of superficial scratches throughout his life. If anything, he’s sure Jimin had dealt more blows than he’s received.

Jungkook knealt down on one knee to unbutton Jimin’s slacks. No matter how many times he’d done this, Jimin’s burning gaze would always make him a little nervous. He slipped the pants off, revealing smooth, thick thighs Jungkook was pretty sure could crush him in a few seconds. He folded those too and set it on top of the laundry pile.

“Hyung, I’ll go start the bath for you.”

“Not yet, Jungkook-ah. I want you to take a bath with me tonight.” Jimin tried to hide the silent please at the end of his request. Honestly, he wanted to get Jungkook back to normal without being too obvious about his soft spot for the younger.

“But hyung –”

“Are you going to disobey hyung? And you know there’s room for two. I want you to wash my back for me.”

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered shyly, but he wasn’t going to start being disobedient now when he’s been so good at following direction for the past few years under Jimin.

“Good, now come. It’s late and I don’t want to waste any more time than necessary.” Jungkook scrambled after him, feet meeting the cold marble floor. He turned the water on quickly to warm it up and poured in a capful of Jimin’s favorite lavender bubble bath.

Jimin stepped into the hot water first, sighing quietly as his aching muscles were enveloped and instantly relaxed. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, breathing in the steam. Jungkook was still by the edge, fidgeting with the hem of his dress shirt.

“What are you waiting for, Jungkook-ah? Strip.” That was enough to give Jungkook permission to instantly start unbuttoning his shirt and draping it over the towel rack to be put away later.

Oddly, he didn’t feel any sort of embarrassment. Usually, he’d glow with shyness. But today? Today was different. Maybe it was because his mind was so preoccupied and tense. Maybe it was because he secretly wanted the comfort Jimin and only Jimin offered him.

He dipped his foot in the water to test the temperature and Jimin motioned him to turn around. He understood immediately. He sat down with his back facing the mafia boss and allowed Jimin to pull his lithe body against his own solid torso. He knew Jimin liked skin to skin contact sometimes, especially when he was particularly worn out. This was his job as Jimin’s subordinate. It didn’t matter if hugging and touching weren’t part of his job description. He’d do it if it meant pleasing Jimin and helping him. That’s how devoted he was and he was determined to prove that dedication. As for now though, he’d enjoy the treatment.

Jimin gently rubbed the smooth skin of Jungkook’s stomach absent-mindedly. This was nice. He knew there was something wrong about being so forward about his desires to shower the younger with affection and care. Oh, he knew. Knew how bad it would be if Jungkook ever found out the feelings he tried to bury deep down in his heart again and again. How terrible it’d be if word got loose that he treasured his right hand man as more than just a close subordinate and confidant. But he couldn’t bring himself to care when all he wanted to do was erase that tense grimace from Jungkook’s face after the night’s events.

“Kookie, could you relax for me? Holding a rock isn’t very pleasant for hyung.” The body in his arms immediately went lax against him, shifting a little to find the most comfortable position for the both of them.

“Better. Just for tonight, I want you to forget everything you heard a few hours ago.”

“Yes, hyung.”

As automatic as the response was, he truly couldn’t help but obey the soft, sultry voice even if he wasn’t thinking about what the request was. If he asked anyone else, they’d call him stupid. But they didn’t know just how much Jungkook trusted Jimin and how willing he was to lay his life down for him. Right now, it didn’t matter if Jimin was just using him as a warm body for comfort. As long as he was of help to him in any shape or form, he was content with his life.

The only sounds were the gentle waves of water and Jimin’s occasional sighs. Jungkook allowed himself to sink into the warmth and sear every feeling into his head. Jimin gave himself the luxury of being in the moment without any questions asked. Who knows how long he can keep this up?

“J-Jimin hyung?”

Jimin hummed in acknowledgement, eyes too heavy to open.

“Would you like me to accompany you for tonight?” Jungkook’s voice drifted off at the end. Probably used up all his courage just to offer and Jimin was impressed in a way.

“That would be preferable. Who knows who’s going to try to kill me in my sleep.” Jimin laughed sarcastically at the last part, but regretted being so blunt when Jungkook flinched in his hold.

“I’m kidding, Jungkook. No one is going to get past my security and definitely not going to get through you unless they have a whole fucking army ready.”

“Jimin hyung, you know I would die before I let anyone lay a finger on you, let alone a scratch.” There was so much determination in his voice that Jimin had to smile.

“I know,” he said simply. Because he did. Knew that Jungkook had a heart of gold even if he was dragged into such a dark business because of Jimin. Knew that Jungkook was loyal to a fault, to the point where he didn’t care what happened to himself. Considering how much Jimin currently cared for him and will forever care for him though, this could prove to be a potential problem later on. With how attached he was, even though it was hard to admit to himself at times, he couldn’t afford to lose Jungkook now. Couldn’t think of living without Jungkook constantly by his side and being the only person he truly trusted on this world.

“Come on, let’s get to bed. The water is cold already.” Jungkook moved to drain the water and stand up first and for once, Jimin got a full view of the scars lacing his back. He couldn’t help but reach out and trace a gentle finger across one of the bigger ones. Jungkook had never told him how he got those and he knows they weren’t from any missions Jimin had assigned him.

Jungkook startled a bit when he felt the cool touch, but didn’t interrupt.

“It’s over now, hyung.” For the most part, he said it to reassure himself. His past was just that. The past. There was no use in continually thinking about where he came from and how he was thrown relentlessly into the world without anything but his will to survive.

“Will you tell me some day, Jungkook?”

“Yes, hyung. Some day.”

Some day, the pain will be bearable enough to recall. Some day, he’ll be brave enough to speak about it. Some day, it’ll be like he’s talking about another helpless boy, a boy that wasn’t him. Some day. But today was not that day.

#bts #jikook #jungkook #jimin #busanboysnet #kookmin #my writing #bangtan #jeon jungkook #park jimin #mafia au

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sad-af1121 · 6 years

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Little Did You Know: Part 5

Summary: You thought your upbringing in a mafia home was a difficult time in your life, fighting for the love of Bucky Barnes who didn’t meet your father’s standards. But even when you’ve both stayed away from that chaotic life, the past returns and things get out of hand. The home you both built tumbled harsher as your reality flew out the window and so did your heart. (Modern AU) Pairing: Ex-Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 1588 Warnings: Angst (just expect that for MOST of the chapters) drinking, emotional load A/N: 2 and a half weeks till this semester is over and I’ve been working my ass off so I’ve awarded myself by writing part 5. Feedback is welcomed 💜

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Bucky kicked Dolores out of his room after he couldn't find you anywhere in the hotel. Yanking her arm and tossing her belongings out the door. He didn’t give her any time to talk, he fucking couldn't. He searched and searched every corner and perimeter of the place but was found empty-handed. Panic resided inside him, an overwhelming anxiety that blinded his logical mind.

He screamed, trashing the room and tearing up the papers Dot made him sign. Rage and grief were the only things he knew at that moment, having a fit like a toddler.

His second thought was to call your cell phone, praying you’d pick up just once. After countless of calls, messages, and voicemails, he gave up. Desperation drenched his skin.

Bucky couldn’t get a hold of you, going crazy as he wondered where you were and if you were safe. You had his child, acknowledging you wouldn't do anything insane but then again, what could he be sure of now?

Hurt was written in your eyes, regret in Bucky’s heart.

Steve was no help, saying he didn’t get a call from you. Something in Bucky’s heart hoped you did, at least you would be somewhere with protection and a roof over your head. It wasn’t like you couldn’t stay at a hotel or go back home, but with tonight's events, you wouldn't want to go somewhere where it reminded you of him. It was better to have someone to lean on other than Bucky.

Bucky sat in the middle of the living room, hypnotized by the flames that illuminated the dark surroundings. Not an ounce of sleep was gifted to him, his mind running a thousand miles per hour. His tear-stained cheeks were cherry red, his eyes growing dark and grey. He had nothing to give, nothing to lose now.

One stupid fucking mistake cost him his entire life and future.

“What the fuck was I thinking?” Bucky cried softly, drowning what seemed to be a bottle of whiskey. When he noticed the amber fluid wasn’t filling his gut, he threw the glass against the wall.

The shattered pieces rung in his ears, flinching to the sound. Bucky leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs as he began rocking back and forth, tangling his fingers in his hair. His cries grew louder, body quivering like a drug absent in his bloodstream.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Bucky whimpered, sniffling as he laid on the ground, curling in a fetal position until he was drowned in sleep.

*A week Later *

Thanks to Steve, you were mentally stable, taking time for yourself and realizing what you had to do and more. He told Bucky where you were the next day, a sense of relief washing over Bucky. He didn’t contact you, giving you as much space as you craved.

He and Steve had a long talk, even explained what went down between him and Dolores. Steve was torn in between. It was like playing a game of tug of war with the two important people in his life. But regardless of the blackmail, Bucky should have known better. There was no excuse. Provocation from the past made him take this step. It was a moment of weakness however, it doesn’t condone Bucky’s behavior.

After thinking about it, Steve advised Bucky it was best to leave you alone until you were fit to talk or even see him again. He’d give Bucky an update about you and James whenever he called to check in. And that was it. Steve wouldn’t tell Bucky more because you needed to heal and Bucky needed to be taught a lesson, re-evaluate his decisions before deciding to pounce on them. Even if his loyalty was on the line. Steve debated if he should tell you about Tony Stark and Bucky’s involvement with your father but he decided not to, feeding you a bit of information at a time.

The baby helped the most, keeping your focus entirely on him. However, James had his moments, wanting his father's presence like playing with Bucky’s fingers or getting tickled with his scruff. It was a favorite of his, his chunky fingers grabbing Bucky’s cheeks as his delicate nails dug into the skin, earning a playful hiss from his father. Or how Bucky’s hair would fall in front of his little face, making James cling onto them like a rope. The loud scream-like giggles would erupt from the small bean and it brought a smile to your face.

But now those memories were bittersweet, leaving a pungent taste of emptiness.

“Mrs. Barnes, there’s a call for you. It’s Mr. Rogers.” The butler informed, his hand cupping over the speaker of the phone.

You tore your eyes from James who laid on the playing matt, a teething ring shoved into his mouth and covered in drool. “Just call me Y/N, please.” You said softly, your heart jerking a bit.

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry.” He handed you the phone before departing from the room to yourself.

“Hey, how’s it going?” You breathed, forcing a grin.

“Good. Had the usual paperwork to get done and handled some shipments. How are you? Did you eat?” Steve asked, trying not to push too many questions down your throat.

Ever since Steve had to go back to work, he couldn't sleep, worried out of his mind about you.

The two days after the night, you refused to eat, saying you had no appetite whatsoever. Steve still insisted you do, since you breastfed James. Next was the lack of sleep or rest. Night terrors blinded your dream-state, Bucky’s infidelity replaying in your mind.

To get away from your thoughts, you always found something to occupy your mind, but whenever the baby cried, you would join him, panicking and pushing yourself into the depths of depression. The signs were evident and it shocked Steve how quickly it changed you.

That bubbly personality and strong persona disappeared, morphed into an enclosed and quiet one. The life was slowly draining out of you and Steve didn’t have a clue what to do. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions so he kept a close eye, observing your actions, expressions, and responses.

“Ah, I’m okay. Watching Jay play with his toys.” You swallowed, trying to ignore the other question.

“Oh, that’s great. And what did you eat?” He pressed, sitting in his office chair.

Sighing, you mumbled. “I had an apple…”

“Y/N.” Steve said, rubbing his temples. “ It’s 2 p.m. and all you had was an apple? Please eat for me, doll.”

“Steve I can’t! Everything tastes bland! Everything I do doesn’t feel right! I’m tired and wanna leave. I don’t wanna do anything. Do you know how hard this is? Do you know there’s a big gaping hole where my heart used to be? I can’t look at my own son without seeing Bucky and it disgusts me!” You confessed, yanking your hair. “I c-can’t do this anymore, Stevie. It’s like my body refuses to let him go.”

“More like you’re refusing to let him go,” Steve mumbled, biting his tongue to say anything that might get you to snap. “I’m tryin’ here, okay? I know this shit isn’t easy, but you gotta get a hold of yourself, Y/N. For the sake of James.”

Soft steady tears ran down your face, forming dark spots on your blouse. You looked at your baby boy, choking on a breath when he sees your distressed features, his bright ocean blue eyes staring into yours. He rolled over on his stomach and tried to squirm in your direction but it was useless. James hasn’t learned to crawl yet, making him frustrated. Lifting his head, his face scrunches in anger, letting out a small whimper.

Seeing his efforts, you pick him up, pecking his cheeks before settling him in your lap. You couldn’t stop being a mother, especially when he hasn’t done anything to you. Abandoning him wasn’t the best option and you swore you’d never do that. He was all you’ve got and you had to remind yourself every second of the day if that’s what it took.

After a moment of silence, Steve cleared his throat, waiting for a response. “Everything will be okay. You need to take time for yourself. I’ve got you no matter what; ya gotta trust me on this, please?”

Maybe he was lying to pretend things would get better but you only knew half the story. It killed Steve that he couldn’t tell you exactly what Bucky did, torn between the truth and your love for the man. If it were up to him, he would hide you, away from anyone and anything just to keep you breathing the same air as your son. If you found out, it would break you more than any pain can.

Taking a deep breath, you wiped the tears and kissed the top of James' head, smoothing back the loose hairs, “Yeah, I really hope so.”

After the phone call ended, you spent the rest of the day watching your favorite movies, and eating what your heart desired. It wasn’t the same experience, so dull and tasteless. Steve had sent a nanny over to watch your son while you took time for yourself, lessening the stress from your shoulders and having a mental day.

Yet, the voices inside your head screamed for release, banging on the doors for freedom but you kept them in, blocking out their sounds with your cries.

PERM TAGS: @thatawkwardtinyperson @jezzula @finallybreathee @plumfondler @atari-writes @angryschnauzer @badassbaker @papi-chulo-bucky @amrita31199 @cumonbucky @soldatbarnes @random-fandom-girl2000 @lostinspace33 @feelthemusicfuckwhatheyresaying @rda1989 @hello-sweetie-get-the-salt @melconnor2007 @feelmyroarrrr @iamsooooohappy @elaacreditava @broken-pieces @hardcollectiontrashworld @i-kneel-for-king-loki @hufflevirgoclaw @curvybihufflepuff @saharzek @angelsandsnakes @valkyeries @chrisevanshh @retroasgardian @palaiasaurus64 @secondsandstars @megs4real @isaxhorror @geeksareunique @negans-only-wife @titty-teetee @lxdyred @ssweet-empowerment @moonbeambucky

FIC TAGS: @void-imaginations @nasteaxluvgal @addictionmarvel @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @directionerfae @clickyourheelsandaskforseb @fearsynergy @angelicshinigami @loricameback @buchcnanjames

Couldn’t tag the ones in bold :( let me know if you want to be tagged.

#ex-mafia!bucky barnes x reader #ex-mafia!bucky barnes #ex-mafia!bucky barnes x reader angst #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader fic #Steve Rogers #captain america #bucky barnes angst #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan x reader

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loucifieri · 6 years

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ndrv3 HPA AU (Class ‘79) notes~

I’ve only ever been posting snippets of the their silly school life (without following a chronological timeline of events) so here’s some context of how I characterized the ndrv3 kids (essentially the same personalities but with some tweaks) and maybe some info on the relationships in my comics. Implied and outright spoilers, apparently. The rest under the cut.

NDRV3 Character design masterlist here Class 79A Character descriptions here Further characterizations here Family headcanons here Cover Art here Dorm designs here

Comic snippets so far: (most of these were from before I finalized their characterizations) Moms called out by trash child Kaito and Kokichi have “The Talk” How Kaede became the Class Rep A Lesson in Romantics Real Talk Sports Day

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/Draft/ Final characterizations here

Kaede Akamatsu: The ‘protagonist spotlight’ mostly falls on her. Personality-wise, she’ll still be the ever cheerful, charming and kind Kaede (with a toned down self-righteousness) but with a dash of her pre-game personality which is being mistrustful and to an extent, condescending.

Angie Yonaga: Angie is still Angie, but with added eccentricities. Since she her character design kind of implies she’s from an island in the West (okay, Hawaii) which is part of America, she’s going to be referencing memes and western culture.

Kirumi Tojo: Her maid shtick is a conscious effort for her. She has selfish whims and insecurities deep down that calm, collected and altruistic persona that she tries to project. (in-game Tojo was just too one dimensional, ugh)

Tenko Chabashira: She mostly maintains her enthusiastic, down to earth, protective (of the girls) nature but she won’t be too vocal about her aversion towards the MENaces (it was so overdone in the game to the point of being annoying) and with a short temper. Will probably have a sad or comical (still can’t decide which lol) backstory about why she dislikes DEGENERATE MALES.

Himiko Yumeno: Mostly the same with her in-game personality but isn’t dismissive of human interaction. Apart from her “I’m a mage, not a magician” gag, she’s suspected to be always on drugs by most. Secretly stays up late a lot to watch k-drama.

Maki Harukawa: Still anti-social and uptight but it won’t be because of her talent (which is outright revealed to be Ultimate Assassin)… she just hates talking to people her age (lol). Also, her backstory won’t be the same in-game coz that seemed intentionally sad in context, but it’s strangely out of place in a peaceful AU like this. She’s still from an orphanage and serves as an elder sister figure. She was physically conditioned and trained to be an assassin but it turns out it was just a complicated plot to make her a Motion Capture stunt girl for an Assassin’s Creed game. So yeah, she hasn’t really killed anyone in real life but she physically (and mentally??) can, if desired.

Tsumugi Shirogane: She won’t think she’s a plain jane nor will she make an effort to remain a ‘wallflower.’ She’s into a lot of fandoms, naturally. She also stans Junko Enoshima (who isn’t a Despair junkie btw) and makes vague references about “being in a reality show,” (wink, wink)

Miu Iruma: Same ol’ Miu, but will try to make an effort to be likeable. Also has standards, so no she is not going to do lewd things with Teru Teru-sempai.

Shuichi Saihara: Since no one has to die for his character development, it’s going to take awhile for him to remove his hat. At first, he’s still meek and unconfident but not codependent on Kaede. Also adding a dash of his pre-game personality, him being an avid fanboy of all things detective (stans Kyoko Kirigiri, has a sizable collection of Nancy Drew Books and Detective Conan manga etc). Struggles with depression at times.

Kokichi Ouma: Compulsive lying is dumbed down and has his limits with his intentional assholery. His genuinely caring personality will also peek through a lot and he won’t vehemently deny it that much.

Rantaro Amami: Carefree, easygoing and fabulously gay big brother figure of the class. Makes vlogs in the style of Bear Grylls’ Man VS Wild. He also references the Danganronpa franchise plots (except V3) in his stories of his adventures.

Kaito Momota: Still quite sexist but it’s more because of upbringing rather than intentional. He doesn’t just suddenly develop an incurable, deadly disease but he has Tuberculosis (hence, coughs a lot). And, he’s very competitive (his pre-game personality repackaged).

Ryoma Hoshi: Mostly detached and stoic but not depressive and unfeeling. I’m tweaking his backstory a bit coz an ex-con that has served prison time going back to high school is a bit weird (and I don’t want the “HPA pulling shady shenanigans” shtick). His family has been murdered and all he has left is the family cat (that he gets to keep in the dorms) and he’s been pursuing leads about the mafia responsible for it. He’s basically a Sasuke Uchiha here. Anyway, he’s wise but vindictive. Fortunately, he doesn’t want to serve justice with his own hands.

Korekiyo Shinguji: Doesn’t have a sister complex and definitely not a compulsive serial killer here. He’s already got an interesting, creepy persona. Miyadera is alive, but still sickly and would visit him often to bring him home-cooked meals. Unsurprisingly has a fascination for see-saws.

Gonta Gokuhara: still the best boy best boy best boy raised in the mountains He won’t be too gullible here and would even join in roasting Kokichi.

Keebo Idabashi: He’s the Ultimate Robotics Engineer since he’s not a robot. Spent most of his life sheltered (even from the internet) so he’s shy and quite socially inept. Always gets very defensive of his talent.

And now, for the platonic and romantic ships~ I actually multiship but in this AU I’m going to stick to one ship for a particular person since I’m personally not keen on polyamory. (please don’t burn me on a stake)

Kaede||Shuichi: Saimatsu BROTP; in fact, they refer to each other by first name. I didn’t want this to be an “OTP” here since Saimatsu was mostly set up and situational in-game because of Shuichi’s codependency and Kaede’s desire to break him out of his shell, though undeniably they do have a really good chemistry together. Really, I love Saimatsu just-- let them explore their options. (I’m also just bitter I couldn’t flirt more using Kaede after Chapter 1 ;w;)

Kaede|Kirumi: I’m not inconspicuous about it actually lol idk I just see a good chemistry between them. Also, think of the mom jokes since they’re both the class moms. And while my comics tend to jump back and forth chronologically, if I was going to write a fic– their relationship is a slow burn with lots of pining

Shuichi|Kokichi: Their love hotel scene oh my god Kokichi really has it bad and that little liar is a good match for Sai, he facilitated his growth in a (twisted) way but this is an AU so yeah. Beforehand, Kokichi has a slight interest in Rantaro.

Maki|Kaito: This is a canon-ish ship that had a weird development too, but again, they have a nice chemistry too. I wanna explore that normal, potential development between them (also, I’m not sayin they’re both necessarily straight coz this is a straight ship lol).

Himiko|Tenko: There’s just… a lot of potential cuteness in them, even though they were kind of dysfunctional in canon. The fact that they’re polar opposites when it comes to physical activities gives me enough cannon fodder for their tandem. And Himiko being involved with Tenko can really help her a lot (like when the latter’s death in-game impacted her so much).

Kaito||Kokichi: Sort of a Oumota reference lol Chapter 5 gave me an inkling of their dynamics together and it was nice to see that Kaito gave Kokichi a leap of faith despite all his atrocities. So, I think they’d be good friends in the AU, just laced with a lot of badmouthing and insulting each other.

Rantaro||Tsumugi: Mastermind and Survivor solidarity~ They’re good friends in middle school before entering HPA.

Miu||Keebo: They’re both socially inept techie nerds sitting at the back of the class so finding friendship with each other isn’t far from happening. I lowkey shipped them in the game but I haven’t decided in this AU yet~

That’s all for now I guess :D I can try to make an actual comic with plot about them someday… but I can’t promise, even to myself. huhu

350 notes · View notes

taexual · 6 years

Text

I Want Desire [4] / Mark x Reader

OTHER PARTS: 01 - Got7 Mafia AU / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 - The End

Mark doesn’t really see that his logic is fucked up. He says he doesn’t want you… but he does. He says doesn’t care about you… but he does. He says he isn’t falling in love with you…

Pairing: Mafia AU!Mark x Reader

Warnings: angst & strong language

Words: 4.2k

This was highly requested so I’m posting this ahead of time! I based this on the plot that anon suggested. x

Mark wasn’t in your room when you got home. And thank God for that because otherwise, he would have witnessed you cry and that was the last thing you wanted him to see. Not that he would have cared. Clearly, all he wanted from you was sex. He couldn’t have cared less about your actual well-being.

As you took deep breaths in an attempt to fight the tears off, you kept asking yourself why in the hell did you sleep with him in the first place? Did you seriously think he was no longer a dick despite the fact that he always treated you horribly? Honestly, did you expect him to change overnight?

And suddenly you were crying not because of Mark’s heartless rejection but because of your naive heart that thought he would actually turn out not to be a bad guy, despite being a member of the Mafia.

A few hours later, when it seemed as if you’ve cried all of your tears, someone knocked on your door.

“Y/n?” Grace’s quiet voice asked. “Are you okay? Mark says he hasn’t seen you and he’s being weird in general. What’s wrong?”

Not knowing how to tell her that instead of following her advice and being careful about your relationship with her brother, you jumped headfirst into Mark’s trap and ended up getting hurt. You were certain that Grace would just say, “I told you so” if you told her about the talk you had with him on the phone on your way from the meeting with Uchida.

Afraid to open your mouth in case it’d be obvious that you’ve been crying, you quickly wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, mildly panicking when you saw the remains of your mascara on the white sleeve of your shirt.

Sighing, you realized that you couldn’t possibly talk to her without her finding out that you were crying. Unless you ignored her until she went away. That wasn’t very nice but desperate times called for desperate—

And Grace was in your room.

Jumping up from the bed, you watched her put the hairpin – that she obviously used to pick the lock of your room – back in her hair and smile at you before noticing your teary eyes and the make up that was streaming down your face.

“What did he do?” she asked immediately.

You shook your head, sitting back down on the bed. “It’s just my stupidity, Grace. He didn’t do anything.”

“No, he did something,” she disagreed, sitting on the bed next to you. “Tell me what, Y/n. You know you can trust me.”

It took you a couple of moments to gather yourself before you felt like you could talk long enough without breaking down again.

“I like him a lot,” you started off, thinking that admitting the most painful part at the very beginning, would make the rest easier. “Like, I’ve never liked anyone in that way before, Grace.”

“Oh, babe,” she sighed, already knowing where this was going, so she wrapped her arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to her.

“And I swear, I thought he felt the same way,” you said, sniffling. “We argued, sure, but that escalated and then he got… clingy. Like he kept texting me the whole day today. And then I called him about the ball. He told me that he was just fucking around with me. That he didn’t realize he’d suddenly be obligated to take me to balls.”

“Oh, that sounds like something my brother would say,” Grace groaned. “Listen, do you want me to talk to him about this? Kick his ass, perhaps?”

“No, Grace,” you shook your head. “I don’t want to fall down to his level. And besides, he’s right, he shouldn’t feel obligated to take me anywhere.”

“He’s not right,” Grace disagreed. “He’s your husband. He is obligated to take you places, whether you’re actually getting along or not. Though, I can only assume, you don’t really want him to take you anywhere anymore, do you?”

“I don’t,” you confirmed. “I don’t even want to see him.”

Grace nodded, understanding. “Here’s my offer. Call Mr. Uchida. Tell him you’ll come to the ball with a plus one.”

“You want me to lie to him? Because, frankly, at this point, I don’t even feel like going myself.”

“Oh, you’re going,” she said, releasing you and standing up from the bed. “Call him right now. Don’t specify who you’ll be coming with, though.”

“And if he asks?” you said, wiping your tears away again.

“Change the topic and hang up,” Grace told you, picking up your phone from the nightstand and handing it to you. “Do it right now, so I can hear what he says.”

Sighing, you dialed Uchida’s number and tried to calm your breathing while you waited for him to pick up.

“Uchida’s office,” he answered in a few seconds. “What may I help you with?”

“Hi, Mr. Uchida, this is Y/n Tuan,” you said, the name slipping off your tongue as if it was second nature even though you’ve only been married to Mark for a few months. “I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Not at all, Miss Tuan!” he said and then quickly realized, correcting himself. “Mrs. Tuan. How may I help you?”

“I just wanted to call you and let you know that I’m really looking forward to your ball,” you said. “I’ll be coming with a plus one, after all, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course, it’s okay,” Uchida replied, no longer in such a cheery tone. “I’ll write this down and I’ll be waiting to meet you and your… date.”

You smiled a little, glad that he didn’t use the words ‘your’ and ‘husband’. “Me too, Mr. Uchida. Thank you for working with us. I will see you at the ball.”

“I’m already looking forward to it,” he said. “Goodbye, Mrs. Tuan.”

You said your goodbye and hung up the phone, looking up at Grace who seemed to be deep in thought about something.

“Great work,” she told you when you placed your phone back on your nightstand. “Now all that’s left is finding you a plus one…”

“Wait,” you frowned. “Are you saying I’ll actually be going to the ball with someone?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Grace gave you an encouraging smile. “You can’t miss the ball just because my brother is being an ass about it. I’ll find you a date. Hey, would you say you prefer serious, nerdy guys or… more laid-back guys who gave off this badass vibe?”

You sighed. “Badass vibe.”

“Right, of course,” Grace nodded knowingly as if she should have seen this answer coming. “I’ll find you one who won’t break your heart, okay? In fact, I can think of one guy at the top of my head, who’d be—”

“Grace!” Mark’s voice sounded from the hallway. “Where the fuck are you?”

Grace saw the way your eyes widened at this sound. Realizing that she didn’t lock the door after she entered your bedroom, she sprinted across the room before Mark decided to look for her here, and locked the door, hoping he didn’t hear it.

He did.

“What the fuck?” he asked, confused. “Grace, are you in there?”

“Yeah,” Grace called out to him. “Go away.”

“We have a meeting in five minutes,” Mark reminded her. “About the work at the bar next week? Remember?”

“Tell them I don’t feel well.”

“Fuck off, Grace,” Mark groaned. “What are you even doing in Y/n’s room?”

“That’s none of your business,” she said. “Now go. I have important stuff to do.”

“Listen, if it’s about the—”

“I said go, Mark,” Grace repeated loudly, not wanting you to hear whatever he was going to say.

“Fine,” Mark snapped. “But if you get shit for missing the meeting, I’m not standing up for you.”

“I can stand up for myself,” Grace shot back.

She waited a few more moments to see if Mark would reply anything, and when he didn’t, she unlocked your bedroom to check if he really walked away. The hallway was empty, which meant that he did.

Locking the door again, Grace turned to look at you sitting on the bed. You seemed so small and fragile to her that her heart broke at the sight of you like this and for a quick moment, she wanted to strangle her brother. But she had a better idea how to show him his place.

“So, where was I?” Grace said, walking back to you. “Ah, right. There’s this guy. Adam. He’s not in the Mafia, but we did some work with him a couple of months back, and he’s really cool. Constantly wears leather jackets. I think he’d be your type. I don’t mean you should date him or anything but I think you’d like him.”

“What are you saying?” you asked.

“I’m saying I’ll text him and ask if he’s free on the night of the ball,” Grace said. “And then I’ll set you two up. Voilà.”

You considered this. “What if he turns out to be an asshole?”

“Sweetie, I’m not telling you to fall in love with him,” Grace said in a softer tone. “I’m saying go to the ball with him. Make Mark see what he’s missing.”

“Wait, what?” you frowned. “Are you only doing this to get a reaction out of Mark?”

Grace shrugged her shoulders. “Might be worth a shot.”

“Grace, I told you, he doesn’t give a shit about me. He won’t care who my date to the ball is.”

“Y/n, I know my brother. Let me be the judge of what he’ll care about, okay?” Grace said. “Now, wait for just a second, while I try to get a hold of Adam.”

You sighed, choosing not to argue with her further. You didn’t even care about the ball anymore. You didn’t care about anything. You just wanted to fall asleep and hopefully wake up and somehow no longer be married to Mark.

“There we go,” Grace’s voice said, waking you up from your dream world. “Adam says he’s free. Oh, and we’re also meeting him for drinks this Friday night.”

“What?” you widened your eyes. “Grace, no. I don’t want to.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. And we won’t have to stay for long, just a few hours tops,” she said. “You’ll get to know Adam a little and hopefully this will help you take your mind off my brother.”

Not having it in you to put up a proper fight, you just sighed again. “Fine. Can I take a nap right now? I’m tired.”

“No naps,” Grace said strictly. “You’re going to get your ass up, take a shower, put make-up on, and smile. You own this day. Don’t let my brother take that away from you.”

“I really don’t feel like smiling.”

“Yeah, well, fake it till you make it.”

You had to admit, taking a shower did help you feel better. It relaxed your hurting body and maybe calmed your aching heart down, too.

However, every day after that one was still a torture, no matter how many relaxing showers you took. You did not see Mark but, when Friday came, you still didn’t feel like going out to drink. You just wanted to stay locked up in your room the whole night but you knew that this wouldn’t save you from Grace. You couldn’t hide in the house of a Mafia family.

The longer you stayed here, the more it sucked.

Since it was obviously not going to work out with Mark, at least not after he clearly let you know that he’s not planning to fall in love with you anytime soon, you started to think that maybe it’d be worth a shot to talk to his family about this. Maybe they’d let you leave.

The sudden realization that maybe there was a way out of this marriage excited you and you grabbed your make-up bag with a small smile already on your face.

Right as you were adding finishing touches of mascara on your eyelashes, Grace entered your room again. The girl didn’t bother about knocking. She just preferred to pick locks wherever she went.

“There’s just no such thing as privacy to you, is there?” you asked her.

She laughed. “I’m glad you turned into Miss Sassy. How are you feeling?”

You shrugged your shoulders, choosing not to tell her about your idea to attempt to get to leave this house and this family behind. Grace was probably going to be the only person you’d miss if you did leave.

“A little better, I guess,” you said. “I still don’t feel like going out, though.”

“Too bad,” Grace said with a teasing smile. “Have you chosen an outfit yet?”

“Yeah, I’ll wear my skinny jeans and—”

“No, no, no,” she shook her head, already opening your closet without your permission. “You’re wearing a dress.”

“I don’t like to—”

“Shh,” she silenced you. “I know you have some incredible outfits hiding here.”

You groaned as you listened her go through your racks of clothes until she finally stopped and pulled out a rack with a black, glittery dress. You had only worn it once before. It was last year, during New Years, when your friends convinced you to go out drinking and then ended up abandoning you. The dress was way too short and you wore your coat over it as you headed home early.

“This is incredible,” Grace said, softly touching the material as she held the dress up for you to see.

“Grace, I’m not wearing that.”

“Oh, you so are,” she said, placing the dress on the bed. “I’ll leave now but when I come back, you better be wearing this with the best pair of high heels you own. Promise me you’ll do that.”

“Grace—”

“Promise me.”

When a member of the Mafia tried to convince you of something, they used their negotiation voice, and although you’ve lived with this family for about two months now, you still trembled a little when they used this voice on you.

“I promise,” you sighed, having no other choice but to give in.

When Grace left, you watched the dress for a moment. You tried to convince yourself that maybe it wouldn’t look this bad this time and decided to try to put it on.

Carefully slipping out of your current clothes, you pulled the dress over your head, already feeling like it ended just below your ass, revealing way too much skin. You walked to the mirror and were proven correct. It ended just above your mid-thigh. It was way too provocative and you didn’t know why you bought it in the first place.

While you were debating to rip the dress to shreds before Grace saw it, someone entered your bedroom again and you flinched. Turning your head, you saw Grace freeze by the door.

“You look stunning,” she said and then jokingly added, “If only both of us weren’t married…”

You laughed at this. “Shut up. I’m not wearing this. It’s too short.”

“Honey, no. It’s perfect. It accentuates the length of your legs. And if you wear high heels, literally every single person who sees you will faint because you’ll look like an actual goddess,” Grace said, approaching you and glancing at your reflection in the mirror.

You sighed, pulling out your black pumps that were elegant enough to make the dress look less skimpy. Grace waited until you put them on and then gasped when she saw what you look like once your outfit was complete.

“Look at you,” she said, smiling widely while you looked at your reflection in the mirror, biting your lip. “You own the world, sweetheart. Believe in it.”

“I don’t know…” you hesitated, feeling uncomfortable in this clothing. “I feel like it’s missing something.”

“Y/n, the only thing this outfit is missing is your confidence,” Grace said. “Now, hold your head up high, look murderous, don’t smile at anyone, and let’s go.”

You grabbed your jacket and the two of you left the house without running into anyone else on the way. And thank God for that. You feared that you’d run into Mark right after you left your room. But, apparently, Mark wasn’t even home. Maybe luck was finally on your side.

Adam was already at the club when you and Grace arrived. He greeted both of you by gallantly kissing your hands and you had to admit, you were a little flustered by this action. Besides, Adam was really attractive. However, – as your brain sadly reminded you – he wasn’t Mark.

Adam insisted on paying for drinks. In fact, he looked almost offended when you and Grace pulled your wallets out. He left you two sitting in the booth at the back of the club, while he went to get you drinks at the bar.

“So, what do you think about him?” Grace asked once he left.

You shrugged your shoulders. “He seems alright. Cute. Has manners.”

“I know,” Grace nodded. “Now that I think of it, he’s probably the exact opposite of—”

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Shivers immediately ran down your spine at the sound of this voice. You didn’t even need to turn around to know who was talking.

Apparently, luck was not on your side, after all.

“Mark?” Grace gasped after turning around to see her brother behind you. “What the fuck are you—”

“I’m on patrol here tonight,” he shot back. “You would have known that if you had gone to that meeting a week ago. Father’s unhappy about that, by the way.”

Grace quietly cursed herself and then turned to look at you with apologetic eyes. “Y/n, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

“Here we go,” Adam said, placing three glasses on the table in the booth and then raising his head to see your distressed face. “What happened?”

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Mark spat angrily at the sight of Adam.

Confused, you looked at Grace.

“Oh,” she said, leaning in closer to you. “I might have forgotten to mention that Mark doesn’t really like Adam.”

“That’s just lovely,” you snapped back sarcastically.

“Grace, did you think of this?” Mark asked again, approaching your booth.

Adam stepped forward to block his way. “Whoa, hey, I don’t remember you being invited, friend.”

“Back off,” Mark told him with threatening eyes.

Grace stood up from the booth, realizing that her plan to get Mark to admit his real feelings was about to backfire and it wasn’t even the night of the ball yet.

“Guys, guys,” she said, carefully stepping over you to exit the booth. “Why don’t we talk about this like adults. Or better yet, Mark, you leave to do your job.”

“I’m not fucking leaving,” Mark’s eyes burnt lasers into his sister. “You drag my wife out to have drinks with—”

“Hold up,” you frowned as you stood up from the booth. “I’m your wife now, all of a sudden?”

Mark turned to look at you, preparing to snap something back but his breath got caught in his throat at the sight of you. He has never seen you in clothes like that before and he had to do a double take to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

He cleared his throat, losing the confidence he just had. “Y-Yeah.”

“Is that so?” you snapped, using the fact that he was caught off guard to your advantage. “Because I swear I remember you telling me you weren’t obligated to do shit for me even if we were married."

“So this is what you do, huh?” Mark asked, regaining his balance in seconds. “You go out with other guys as soon as I tell you no, yeah?”

“I’m pretty sure I can go out with whoever I want to,” you said, crossing your arms on your chest and not feeling the way your dress lifted just an inch, revealing a little more skin. “Because there’s nothing going on between you and me.”

Mark swallowed, having noticed that your dress lifted. He didn’t think it was fair to have this argument with you when you looked like that because he was slowly starting to not think with his brain anymore.

“Let’s give them a moment,” you heard Grace whisper to Adam, who didn’t look very happy about what was happening but nodded nevertheless.

“No moment is needed!” you called out to them before they could leave. “Mark is leaving.”

“You fucking wish,” Mark said, taking a threatening step towards you. “I’m taking you home.”

“You’re not fucking taking me anywhere,” you shot back.

Grace, having noticed that you were standing up for yourself, pulled Adam further away from you and Mark so you could talk it out. She still stayed close by, though, in case you needed back-up.

“Stop causing a scene,” Mark told you, rolling his eyes.

“I’m not causing anything,” you replied. “It’s you who came up to us and started yelling.”

“Oh, so you wanted me to stay quiet and just watch some wanna-be gangster who can’t even get a date on his own flirt with my wife?”

“Why the fuck do you care?!” you shouted desperately. “You were explicitly clear about what you want from me. Why the fuck are you getting pissed off when I go out with people who actually want to get to know me?”

“You think he wants to get to know you?” Mark scoffed. “When you’re wearing that? Baby, sorry to break it to you, but he’s just waiting until the end of the night so he could fuck you.”

Clenching your jaw, you resisted the urge to slap him. You knew that violence was never the answer, but God, Mark was really testing your limits.

“You know what, Mark?” you decided to say. “Maybe he will get to fuck me.”

You hadn’t realized that your words provoked him even more.

“What did you just say?” he asked, his eyes immediately turning a few shades darker.

“You heard me,” you said, standing your ground even though you were starting to feel intimidated by the look in his eyes.

“Is that why you wore this dress?” Mark snapped. “To get him to want you?”

Remembering Grace’s advice to fake it till you made it, you smirked at him with pretend-confidence. “I don’t need to wear a skimpy dress to get him to want me.”

Mark’s blood was boiling, you could see it in the way he squinted his eyes and clenched his fists. Probably for the first time in his life, he realized that he wasn’t in control of the situation anymore.

“You’re going to regret saying that,” he warned you.

“I really doubt it,” you said, taking a step forward. “Now, excuse me, I have to go. Grace and Adam are waiting for me.”

You tried to step around him, but Mark moved, blocking your way.

“If you thought for one second that I was going to let you go back to that fucking loser,” he growled. “You’re fucking wrong.”

Feeling anger explode into your bloodstream, you leaned into him.

“If you thought for one second that I was going to follow your orders,” you whispered in a menacing tone. “You’re fucking wrong.”

Mark obviously wasn’t expecting so much resistance from you. Parting his lips in surprise, he watched your eyes for a moment before his gaze traveled down to your lips. You were so close to him, he could feel your perfume overcome his senses. As soon as you heard him inhale shakily, you pulled away.

You used this moment to step around him and were already on your way towards Grace and Adam, when he recovered, and grabbed your arm, stopping you.

“Y/n, you’re—”

“Let her go,” Grace stood up from her booth.

Surprised to suddenly hear her voice, Mark let go of your hand. Not wasting any time, you walked away from him and sat down in the booth next to Adam, all while Mark’s eyes followed you. You didn’t do this on purpose, it was just that Adam was sitting with his back turned to Mark, and you really didn’t want to look at Mark anymore.

“Whose side are you fucking on, Grace?!” Mark yelled, throwing his arms in the air. “I’m your fucking brother!”

“You fucked up,” Grace told him. “You need to let her go.”

“I’m not fucking letting her go. She’s my wife!”

“Prove it,” Grace challenged him.

“What?” Mark frowned.

“Find a way to prove that she’s your wife,” she told him. “In the meantime, leave her be. You have no right to her.”

“Grace, you’re fucking mental. She’s my wife. She belongs to me!”

You finally stood up and turned around, no matter how much you didn’t want to see him. “I don’t belong to you. I belong to myself.”

It looked like Mark finally understood what was happening when he was left standing alone in the club while you and Grace sat back down in the booth, exchanging meaningful glances that he couldn’t decipher.

It looked like Grace’s plan had worked after all. Mark realized that he fucked up and was going to lose you if he didn’t do anything about it, although he couldn’t yet understand why he didn’t want to lose you.

As Mark turned around to leave, he decided that this was the last time he was going to let you win. You were his and he was going to prove it to everyone.

This is purely fictional. Real-life people are in no way connected to the characters in this story. The characters have no relation to their real-life selves, either.

#got7 #got7 reactions #got7 imagines #got7 mafia au #got7 scenarios #kpop reactions #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop mafia au #kpop scenario #got7 fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #got7 angst #kpop angst #mark tuan #got7 mark au #mark tuan fanfiction #got7 mark

1K notes · View notes

alipiee · 6 years

Note

Ali, I am looking for new fanfictions, can you suggest some of your favourites? Victuuri And Otayuri I love them both! Thank you! ❤️

Oh gosh strap in, I have read far too many so this list might end up being kinda long! I don’t read Otayuri but I have a lot of Victuuri to throw your way buddy

(Under the cut)

Kintsugi by @witchsbane 114k (wip)

Yuuri Katsuki is a hitman burdened with a debt he can never repay. His target: Viktor Nikiforov, next Pakhan to one of the most dangerous families in the Russian mafia.

When the two are drawn into a treacherous alliance after a mission gone wrong, the bonds of love and loyalty to family and duty begin to unravel—even as they get more tangled up in each other.

ok but this is honestly my favourite yoi fic of all time!! The writing is so amazing and you get immersed straight away bc its so vivid and descriptive!! The plot is i n c r e d i b l e, I always seem to come back and reread it because its just as amazing the second (and third) time around. I literally can’t recommend it enough!!

empty spaces between stars by @victuuriplease 124k (wip)

Victor gets just as drunk as Yuuri at the Sochi Banquet, and they disappear together after the dance-offs. They wake up the morning after with rings on their fingers, and pictures of them kissing after getting married the night before are all over the tabloids… but neither of them remembers a thing. They decide to stay married for a while for the sake of Victor’s sponsorships, and in exchange, Victor coaches Yuuri through nationals…

!!!!! This is fantastic !!!! I’m such a sucker for fake dating marriage fics, and this might be the best one I’ve ever read! The fluff is wonderful and balances out the angst and pining and just!! I love it a lot!!

The Boyfriend Experience by @victorsporosya 240k (wip)

Katsuki Yuuri is an accomplished escort at 23, operating under the pseudonym Eros, in Detroit. When one of his favourite clients sets him up with none other than world-renowned figure skater Victor Nikiforov, the delicate balance between Yuuri’s personal and professional life teeters ever closer towards ruin.

Ok but this fic also owns my life, Adele’s writing is so beautiful and even when you’re crying from the angst, you still feel blessed to be reading it! You can tell how much thought has been put into every sentence and it deserves all of the love and appreciation

Kings in Couture by @forovnix 15k (wip)

a devil wears prada au in which victor is the editor-in-chief of a fashion magazine, yuuri’s his new secretary, and instead of talking about his feelings, victor just sends him on a bunch of errands—“Okay, okay. Ready.” Yuuri starts scribbling as the voice on the other end, someone from the Style and Trends department, relays instructions. “Sorry, can you please spell ‘Gabbana’?”

The person on the line promptly hangs up on him.

Awkwardly, he sets the phone back on the receiver. “Guess not.”

This fic is a blessing tbh, it’s so witty and fun to read and two chapters of pure gold

hey stranger (don’t i look familiar to you) by @forovnix 4k

It’s not that Yuuri is a nosy person. To be fair, he thinks anyone would wonder about the person they’ve been sharing a space with for the better part of a year.

Or, Yuuri is a part-time professor who shares an office with someone who writes themselves too many post-it notes. There are a lot of facts to process, and Yuuri’s got a lot of assumptions.

This is so heckin cute!! Had me smiling all the way through!! Once again Justine has blessed us with her lovely writing

not gold like in your dreams by @ebenroot 87k (complete)

“Victor, you could have let some psychopath into your apartment.”

“Oh come on, he’s not a psychopath,” Victor chides. Christophe makes a gesture with his hand that says ‘are you seriously this naïve or are you drunk at work again?’.

“Victor, you don’t know that. You don’t know anything about him. Whose name am I going to give to the police or face I’m going to describe to the sketch artist when they find your body chopped up like Hannibal Lecter’s side dish?”

–

in which Victor and Yuuri are roommates and Yuuri has a secret

A penelope au was definitely needed and this was amazing! Honestly I prefer this fic to the film its just so soft and cute!! I’m weak for it and the last chapter made me cry so much idk how many times I’ve reread it at this point but I kinda wanna read it again now

never tasted rubies by @ebenroot 16k

Phichit puts up a poll on the radio website. It reads ‘What Do U Think About Yuuri K. from Hasetsu Nights and the Mysterious Caller Victor?’

Seventy-five percent of listeners said ‘lol they should just f*ck already tbh’.

–

in which Yuuri is an unwilling radio host and Victor won’t stop calling in to chat with him

My heart was so full while reading this, it was so funny and cute and perfect!

seek those who fan your flames by @ebenroot 48k (wip)

Yuuri gets hand-delivered a black-print T-shirt by one of his bodyguards on Friday. There’s a small sticky note attached to the collar in Victor’s handwriting that reads: ‘Our new band shirt! Logo is still a work in progress. Name too. But it’s a start! Let me know what you think after school. - Victor’

There’s a heart next to his name that is hastily scribbled out. Then another heart next to that one, like Victor decided to put it in anyways.

Yuuri thinks he’s in love.

–

in which Yuuri is a teenager that’s actually a prince, and Victor is a teenager with a band that just wants to listen to rock music with him

I had a mighty need for a princess diaries au and this is wonderful!! Victor is such a sweetheart in this and its all just so wonderful and warm!

turn it, leave it, stop, format it by @ebenroot 19k

“If you want, I can recommend you some security programs that you can download for free and protect your computer. That way, you won’t be at risk of losing these cute photos of your dog even when you browse websites like ‘Luscious Lonely Wives’.”

Victor gives one long ‘haa’. “I don’t browse those websites,” he says through his straining smile.

–

the ‘i will break any and all electronic devices that get into my hands if it means I get to talk to the cute tech support guy’ fic

This fic had me l i v i n g, it was so funny and cute and fluffy!!

The Rules For Lovers by @adreamingsongbird 323k (complete)

Prince Yuuri Katsuki has a duty to his country, above all else (his desires, his dreams, and his happiness included), and he knows this alliance will help to ensure the safety of his people. That’s the only reason he accepts Prince Nikiforov’s hand in marriage. The pleasant surprise, of course, is the part where they fall in love along the way. The unpleasant one, well…

That’s a long story.

This is so i n t e n s e! The fluff and humour is so perfect and Yuuri and Victor’s relationship is so perfect (and although the angst is painful as heck), its perfect! The plot is amazinggg and every update had me shook! It belongs in a bookstore to be honest, its so so so incredible!

to sweep me off my feet by @adreamingsongbird 33k

Yuuri went to school in America to get a good, stable job—no, really, Mom, he meant to, he swears! And journalism was promising! It was really good! Until supervillains started appearing and then a (rather attractive) superhero showed up too, and, well…

This is his life, these are his choices, and it’s absolutely unfair that he has to have the office across from someone as hot as Viktor Nikiforov.

The cutest superhero au, with the cutest art, and cutest plot!!

But Monsters Are Always Hungry, Darling by @orchids-and-fictional-cities and art by @iruutciv 61k (wip)

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-con

“You do this, you do. You take the things you love and tear them apart or you pin them down with your body and pretend they’re yours. So, you kiss him, and he doesn’t move, he doesn’t pull away, and you keep on kissing him. And he hasn’t moved, he’s frozen, and you’ve kissed him, and he’ll never forgive you, and maybe now he’ll leave you alone.”

A brutal murder on Christmas Eve abruptly pulls one Detective Nikiforov out of a holiday he was just starting to tolerate, and forces him to come to terms with demons he’s been pretending not to see. On that same night, a man walks into a bar and waltzes into his life, lighting a spark that grows into a monster of its own.

Wow. This fic is so incredibly well-written and the plot thickens with each chapter, I’m so excited every time it updates honestly!! As if the writing wasn’t descriptive enough, there’s also equally beautiful art for every chapter and together its just amazing!

Confidential Information by @iwritebetterthanispeak 77k (wip)

Yuuri never imagined that being able to figure skate would be useful for his job at Interpol. He was very, very wrong.

Viktor Nikiforov, as a famous athlete popular in the public eye, has received threats before. There are very few he takes seriously. However, as more secrets are uncovered and nothing is as it appears, the stakes rise until it becomes clear that there may not be a way to save him this time.

I’m finally getting around to reading this and!! Addy is back with her amazing writing and I can’t wait to catch up!

If Perfect’s What You’re Searching For, Then Just Stay the Same by @iwritebetterthanispeak 6k

Yuuri took a deep breath, and faced the starstruck barista. “I am sorry, my Russian is very bad,” he said tentatively, shoulders hunching slightly. “Do you want me to repeat?”

“N-no, sorry, sir,” the barista said. She blushed and brushed her hair behind one ear. “I’ll get that for you right away!” She stepped away from the counter and called in fast-paced Russian, “Dmitri, come here! The most beautiful man in the world is back!”

Viktor’s smile grew. The employees of the coffee shop weren’t being cruel or making fun of Yuuri’s accent, they were enchanted with him. Viktor could sympathize, his fiancé was very enchanting.

And then he noticed that Yuuri was curled in on himself, eyes lowered and arms wrapped around his chest.

[In which Viktor realizes that Yuuri is a somewhat unreliable narrator]

Well this was just so cute, thank u addy for blessing my life once again

Love Letters by @shslshortie 44k (wip)

Ever since he was young, Yuuri Katsuki had always admired Victor Nikiforov. He was the one who had inspired him to start skating. He had pictures and posters of him all over his room — and Victor was his idol.

Like any fan of an idol, Yuuri loved to send Victor fanmail. Of course, he could never bring himself to sign it as anything other than “Your Secret Fan”, but it still made his heart come alive to write about his love for the silver-haired skater

This is one of those fics that you just can’t put down, I was reading it during all my free periods at college and its the cutest! Also all of the letters are drawn and in the body of text, so it adds so much more to it, its so wonderful!

starstruck by @haikuyus 167k (complete)

“Hold my son for a moment,” says the Viktor Nikiforov, live in the flesh, sweaty and panting.

“Wha—” Yuuri can’t even begin to comprehend what’s going on before Viktor is gone, and there’s a child in his arms.

(in which yuuri is a barista-turned-babysitter, viktor is a famous movie star, and yuri is an 8 year old kid stuck in the middle of it.)

so i developed a love for kid fics, and this was the first one I read, its sooooo good! Yuri is so precious and Yuuri is so precious and Viktor is so precious and just,,, theyre all so precious!

Lessons in Love by @fangirlandiknowit101 113k (wip)

All Viktor wants is for his son to be happy - and if that means spending countless hours at the ice rink, a million more in the ballet studio, and devotedly cheering for Katsuki Yuuri at every competition he enters, then that is precisely what he’ll do.

He just didn’t expect to become a fan, too.

(He didn’t expect to fall in love.)

This fic has me so weak, its the softest thing ever! Yuri is the cutest, and Viktor is the best dad and Yuuri is just the best tbh, I have a lot of love for this!!

on growing; by @crossroadswrite 125k (wip)

Yuri Plisetsky glares at him with all the righteousness five year olds possess, and says in heavily accented and clumsy English. “Be more gooder, stupid!”

And then he storms out in a sweep of blond hair and blue and red lights from his Sketchers.

(Or: in which everything is the same but Yuri Plisetsky is Victor’s bratty five-year-old child.)

This fic cleared my skin and watered my crops, its so fluffy and each chapter is a blessing

sweet like love (soft like pain) by @postingpebbles 10k (wip)

Loving Yuuri was a choice that Viktor never regretted making. His smile, his laughter, the way his lips felt against his own—nothing could make him happier than having Yuuri in his arms.

But when the entire world has no idea that rivals Yuuri Katsuki and Viktor Nikiforov are in a relationship, Viktor can’t do anything at all when Yuuri gets in an accident and is rushed to the hospital the day after he proposes in a hotel room in Nagano.

I love ollie and she loves hurting my heart apparently, this is such a wonderful fic and I can’t wait for her to bless us even more with her writing

The Selection by @gallopingmonroe-blog 262k (wip)

Returning home on the tail end of an injury that ends his dancing career, Yuri Katsuki is trying to find his future again. As a Five, he knows his options are limited, but when he finds an invitation to Crown Prince Victor Nikiforov’s Selection, he is convinced by a friend to apply.

He never thought he’d be Selected.

When he is, he finds that his world is changed forever, and that the Crown Prince is not exactly what he’d expected.

!!! This fic is so beautiful !!! Yuuri and Viktor’s relationship is so cute, and Yuuri’s friendship with Yuri and Phichit and all of the others is so cute, and the entirety of the fic is so cute!!

a black heart of gold by @katzuyas and beautiful art by @lamenart and @iruutciv 67k (complete)

Victor Nikiforov, aka Grand Prix, knows that he’s Yakov’s most skilled hitman. That’s just a fact and he isn’t in the habit of arguing with facts.He also knows that he’s the only one Yakov trusts, period. In this case though, he’s the only one Yakov can rely on to take care of the elusive sniper Eros, who kills Yakov’s henchmen left and right.What Victor doesn’t know, however, is that Eros’ little vendetta is not a matter of coincidence, but pure premeditation, and thus… he falls into a trap that a rookie like Little Fairy could see from a mile away.He falls in lust.And then in love.The fool.

This fic is so intense and so descriptive and playful and just! Amazing honestly!!

November’s Secret by @lanaberryrawr 233k (complete)

Overwhelmed with anxiety and his fear of failing, Yuuri faces the issue of if he should continue skating. His best friend, Yuko, proposes a solution - if no one knows it’s you, then it’s less embarrassing, right? Yuuri begins to create a completely new disguise and persona.

But it works a little too well.

Before he knows it, Yuuri has become the biggest mystery of the skating world and everyone wants to know who he is. Especially Viktor Nikiforov, the idol he’s been loosely basing his new persona on for years.

This was such a cool and original concept for a fic and oh my godddd it was incredible!! Definitely one of the best I’ve read!!

Gunned Down Butterflies by @lanaberryrawr 207k (wip)

Everyone’s lives revolve around two names - the name of an enemy, and the name of a soulmate, both tattooed on their wrists.

But for Yuuri, his fated soulmate and enemy are the same person. One name tattoed on his skin.

After years of believing it meant only unhappiness and pain, he begins to bandage them up and hide them from the world. He even begins to forget about them - until he meets a new client in need of a guard against the Russian mafia.

Nothing can hide him from fate - not bandaging the names, not forgetting about them, not even moving on without them. The owner of the name on his skin will find him eventually.

Okay but the amount of cliffhangers in this fic is amazing, it’s so good and I love it!! It’s such a cool take on a soulmate au!! I can’t wait for the next few chapters :D

Behind these Locked Doors by @axlaida 79k (wip)

“I will find a way out of here,” Yuuri stated firmly and Victor’s expression never faltered. His face was stone cold – frozen like ice. “I know it may take a while… but I have to try.”Victor let out a breath, shaking his head as he smiled. “I said the exact same thing when I arrived.”

They were trapped with no way out. And all that stood between them and their escape was a door - locked and impossible to escape from. But Yuuri had hope. He would escape this, whether the man wanted them to or not.

This is such an amazing mystery fic! I literally sit and think about it someimes at night, trying to work it all out lol, its so good!!

learn to love the skies I’m under by @linneakou 37k

The day after the Sochi GPF banquet, Katsuki Yuuri disappears without a trace.

The day after the Sochi GPF banquet, Viktor Nikiforov finds a stray poodle and takes it home with him.

These two events are, oddly enough, connected.

I never knew I needed a fic where Yuuri turned into a dog and lived with Viktor a while, but this fic changed my life tbh, its so good!

Call you by name by @linneakou 13k

Drunk, depressed, and lonely, Viktor Nikiforov makes a wish that has unforeseen consequences for himself and many people around him.

(an alternate take on the premise of learn to love the skies I’m under)

This version is also incredible!! I love them both a lot!!

Puppy Love by @phyona 10k

When Yuuri gets turned into a dog, the last place he expects to end up is Victor Nikiforov’s apartment. He learns quickly that the only thing worse than being his idol’s pet, is watching him pine for someone else.

Oh man,,,,this fic you guys, I love it so much! The angst oh my gosh, its such an amazing story!

Green Light by @gia-comeatme 21k (complete)

Chris knows what Viktor looks like when he has a crush, and he is 100% sure that Viktor Nikiforov has a crush on his pole dancing classmate, Yuuri Katsuki.

What he doesn’t know is why Viktor hasn’t gotten off his ass and gone for him already.

As a good friend, Chris is obligated to help Viktor out a little bit.

(And that’s where everything goes to shit.)

Red Light by @gia-comeatme 30k (wip)

Chris has had many lovers in the years that Viktor has known him. However, none of them can even compare to Chris’ newest boyfriend.

Viktor knows it’s wrong, but he falls in love with Yuuri Katsuki anyway.

Both of these fics were sooo good oh my god! I have a weakness for misunderstandings and angst with a happy ending, so like these were right up my street and they were amazingggg

Dr. Shiny and the Case of the Beautiful Man by @etherealalchemist 6k

There are about five things that Victor, in this very moment, is absolutely sure of.

1. The spawns of satan are here2. they are not accompanied by their angel of a mother3. they are with the most beautiful man he’s ever seen4. his scrubs are wet from where he’d dropped water on himself5. and Victor is very, very gay.

Emphasis on point five, with a side of cupid’s arrow and “ba-dum ba-dum” on a plate.

Because he is Very Gay, and not only is he Very Gay but he is also Hopelessly Attracted to a man who is undoubtedly Very Straight and very Unavailable and is perhaps the Most Beautiful Man Victor has ever seen.

—

in which Victor is a doctor, Yuuri is a godfather, and Yuri just wants some peace and quiet and a larger stash of lollipops.

This was so sweet and funny! I had to take a second while I was reading it from laughing so much honestly!

We Two Boys 11k (wip)

Yuuri talks about his crush on Victor Nikiforov while recording an episode of his and Phichit’s podcast We Two Boys. It’s not a big deal until it Becomes A Big Deal.

An ocean away, Victor falls in luv.

this is so funny omg, I love Phichit and Yuuri’s friendship so much

turntables by @vitavitali 4k

It happens approximately one week after Yuuri’s disastrous performance in Sochi.

Viktor Nikiforov @v-nikiforovI wish I could date pretty black haired boys who dance well.

“Ooh, the candidates are already flooding in!” Phichit says with an amused grin.

“Candidates?” Yuuri asks and Phichit helps Yuuri scroll down to read the replies. Most of them are variants of “date me!” with pictures attached. It’s all very interesting.

“You should send one too!” Phichit says and Yuuri doesn’t even bother answering him. “Look, I’ll send one if you send one. It’ll be fun!”

Oh my gosh I remember reading this so long ago, and I found it again a few days ago and I still love it so much

posterboy by @vitavitali 1.5k

“I’m going to kill whoever who did this,” Yuuri assured the poster. “I’m going to kill them for you. Don’t worry, baby, I’m going to murder anyone who thought it was a good idea to harm you. They’ll die screaming.”

“What?” came the poster’s startled reply.

“What?” Yuuri parroted back, because posters weren’t supposed to talk, especially not in Viktor Nikiforov’s melodious Russian accented voice.

This is iconique honestly, theyre both so cute!

Rainy Days by @vitavitali 5k

Director’s List Viktor Nikiforov falls in love with bad boy transfer student Katsuki Yuuri. What happens next will warm your heart.

So I kind of binged this authors fics and this one is also amazing!!

There’s still so many fics I want to recommend but I’ve spent like 2 hours on this list and I don’t want it to get too long, so these are the ones that sprang to mind, happy reading!

#weirdlisettola #yoi #fic rec #yikes this got long #i started this at like eight o clock #and now its half ten #oops #i should have been doing my biology but i wanna spread the love!#everyone is so talented and amazing #<3

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floofsta-x · 6 years

Text

Blood On My Hands (For You) [E]

genre;; dark / realistic fantasy, 1920s mob / mafia!AU, serial killer!AU

pairing;; Mainly Chae Hyungwon x Lee Minhyuk [Hyunghyuk]. Also, Shin Hoseok x Son Hyunwoo [Showho] and some Lee Jooheon x Im Changkyun [Married!Jookyun].

plot ;;

After Minhyuk’s first mob kill, his initiation as you will, he discovers that he can see the grim reaper: Hyungwon, the one who brings finality to the souls of hell-bound dead. Once the initial encounter is past, Minhyuk can’t get him off his mind. Quickly, his desire grows to see, touch--and maybe kiss--the tall, handsome, dark-haired man. So, he turns to some very questionable methods.

Based on this Reddit prompt.

⚠️ warnings;; violence, blood/gore, criminal activity, murder….angst…um maybe a bit of fluff? Smut, smut to an end (unwillingly fucking a man to kill him)...Good God just….hold on

words;; 14,914 (15k)

author’s notes;; so this fic was written for the 2017 MX Halloween fic exchange on AO3! It was based off a prompt given to me by @dirtyretrowrites, and I had a really really fun time with it. I don’t get a chance to write anything quite this dark very often. That said, this fic you might notice is not as refined as my others. Welcome to Bry writes raw! I thought that by only doing minimal editing and not my usual, extreme regimen, I could capture a little more of the dark, gritty theme. Anyways! Enjoy!

am I so primal? am I so cruel? I'd do anything to be closer to you. is it so carnal? is it a sin? I'll go to hell for my hands on your skin. vicious contention, I drive myself mad, all for a lover that I'll never have. is it so wicked to want you this much? desperate and dangerous, just for your touch? I'll be a slave, I'll be a killer, do anything that I have to do. I'll be a saint, I'll be a sinner, I put this blood on my hands for you. ⟶ Blood on my Hands - HIDDN and LEVV.

Lee Minhyuk ran for his life. Adrenaline coursed through him, and all he could hear was the pounding of his feet and his heartbeat in his ears.

The night was warm and calm, a direct contrast to the feelings tearing apart the tall, platinum blond’s heart at that moment. He and his three buddies had only made it out of the alley, but already he was gasping for air. There, they stopped, giving Minhyuk a chance to run a hand through his hair and sink down against a brick wall. Somehow, his racing mind had three thoughts going simultaneously: fuckfuckfuck, what the hell just happened, and I didn’t sign up for this bullshit. His legs wanted to take him far, far away from anyplace, and yet he felt frozen to the spot. Paralyzed, even.

“Good work, men,” a low voice, familiar though now suddenly unrecognizable, cut through the air. “I had a feeling that the deal was dirty, so I’m glad we came prepared.” All eyes turned to the tall, slender young man in a pinstripe vest. “Minhyuk, you work very nicely. You’ve more than passed your initiation ton–Minhyuk?”

Minhyuk hadn’t realized that his hands were coated thickly with blood until he had felt something wet drip down his head. Now he pressed a hand to the alleyway wall, and it left a print. Standing there, trembling, tracing the impressions of long, slender red fingers with his gaze, he was re-living things he had tried so desperately to forget, though it had only been minutes, well, actually, hell—seconds ago.

That man–I stabbed him–

The world fell away as his senses were flooded with memories: taking out the plain black handkerchief (so he wouldn't leave prints), and the feeling of a dagger thrust into his hand. The victim hadn’t even seen a moment of what was coming. Minhyuk stole up behind him and encountered tensile resistance when he plunged the knife deep into the other man's neck. As he had twisted the blade cruelly, there was a croak of pain, perhaps one last weak cry for forgiveness. A red, red stain had washed from the center of the wound, running in wet streaks down the back of the poor bloke's dark suit. Then Minhyuk had finished the job with a thrust through the heart. After that, all he needed to do was push, and a bloody corpse lay on the ground, eyes open, never to move again.

It was not something he had wanted to do, but when he had been told—he went. After all, if he refused, they could kill him. Such was the mob. Dirty, dastardly, hiding in the deepest shadows.

After a moment of dead, eerie silence, the leader hissed to his comrades. “We don’t have time. Leave him here, and he’ll come around. We’ll see him back at the house, soon.”

Minhyuk wasn’t sure how long he sat there, unmoving. It might have only been seconds; but it seemed like hours, days, an eternity perhaps. Some small part of him realized how alone he was after the three other pairs of feet scurried away. Yet, he couldn’t find the will or way to follow. His brain was still whirling at what seemed like hundreds of miles an hour, trying to come to terms with himself, stuck in a cycle of never ending confusion and revulsion.

When he finally snapped back fully to the present, he found himself terrified and shivering, even through the wool of his suit. It crossed his mind that perhaps the temperature had dropped to below freezing; but almost a rebuke came back. No, that wasn’t possible. There was a telling absence of steamed, frozen breath. He was just going into shock, that was all. Something deep inside him screamed that he had to get up and move before he froze to death here. So, he did. Minhyuk pushed himself to his feet and stumbled in a direction—which happened to be the way he had come, back towards the grisly scene of his first murder. His sluggish feet carried him to the alleyway, though every ounce of him did not like the idea. His eyes widened, and he immediately realized that saliva was flooding his mouth. As if his body was in rebellion, he doubled over and lost the contents of his stomach to the ground.

Goddamn. Fuck. Fuck this. All he could do was sit there for a moment, choking and gasping, until he finally straightened up and headed forward once again, making sure to avoid the pool of vomit. Somehow, he was still convinced that going to see the dead man might perhaps be smart, after all. Peace could wait for him there, and he'd pour out his heart, maybe confess his guilt—to a policeman or two eventually, he didn’t really care. He knew he had fallen too deep. The fate was inevitable, anyway. Minhyuk had a small circle of “friends” and some meager possessions in his name, but really nothing to lose. Jail, and a life sentence for first degree manslaughter, might be a better experience than what it was made out to be.

The night was still deathly silent, like all life and sound had moved away at the circumstances that had taken place not too long ago. Minhyuk had his eyes firmly fixed on the gap that led back into the alleyway as he slowly but surely made his way there.

No police sirens were in earshot, and the crime scene was still relatively fresh, so he was stunned to find someone hovering over the dead body. The blond pulled himself back into the shadows once he saw, and covered a mouth to stifle a gasp and heavy breaths. It certainly wasn't anyone he recognized right away, from his days mingling with mobmen, anyway. The stranger was tall, having a couple inches on Minhyuk, and skinnier too, wearing a long, loose trench coat and fedora hat. One could barely see a peek of fine dark hair underneath. He was illuminated in the light of the full moon shining overhead. For a moment Minhyuk stood, unmoving, as this almost unearthly figure knelt to brush his hand over the corpse’s pale, cold brow.

Then, a distinct baritone voice hit the blond’s ear. He almost immediately knew it was the stranger's, though he couldn’t see lips moving. It was lilting, perhaps a little bit smug, and as mysterious as the man himself.

“I know you’re there.”

Minhyuk had to bite back a gasp when the tall man turned to face him. He was...handsome. True, dark circles curved under his eyes, and something seemed off. (The reason wasn't quite apparent straight away.) But it was immediately of interest that his lips were pristine and plump. They might be cracked a little bit perhaps, but still were so, so enticing. His facial structure, as well, was perfect. Not to mention his figure...he could be a model for some high end clothing catalog.

The mob man had no choice but to speak now, after so obviously having been caught. Nervously, he swallowed and cleared his throat. Despite his best effort, his voice came out weaker than he wanted. "S—so what if I am? What does it mean to you?"

"Murderers...don't usually come back." An intense, scrutinizing gaze went right through Minhyuk and into his deepest fears. Damn, there was also, unexplainably, a sudden desire blooming within him at that very moment, the more his gaze shifted across the stranger's face and form.

The platinum blond couldn't bring himself to speak for a while. Eventually, though, he managed to stutter at least something. "I—don't—u...understand?"

"Why would you want to see the aftermath of your own crime?"

"Wait--you think I killed him? You have to be joking. I'm an innocent passerby."

The stranger guffawed. "Look, don't even try lying to me. There's blood on your hands. On your face. Down the front of your suit. Even in your hair, for Chrissake." He turned away, staring into the dark at the other end of the alley. Minhyuk wasn't completely sure how the next whisper reached his ears and didn't die, even in the stale air.

"Besides, your image is imprinted on his soul."

Nothing the tall man said or did was threatening, but somehow Minhyuk on high alert. The nudge in his brain that this could be dangerous seemed to finally be getting through to him. Instinctively, he stepped forward, acting on fight impulse. It wasn't really out of boldness, but a sudden and intense fear. He thrust his hand deep into a coat pocket, ready to pull the silver revolver that was there. "Wh—who are you, anyway?"

Seemingly undisturbed by Minhyuk's sudden, intense body language, the tall boy held his ground. "Of course. Naturally, you want to know." Strained, he sighed and continued, with much difficulty, "Once...a long time ago, I was called Chae Hyungwon."

Even as it hit his ear for the first time, a burning need overtook Minhyuk to never forget the name. Somehow, it described its bearer so well—whispering of prosperity and delicacy, high class and bearing. He could be a prince. Still, he hadn't asked the most important thing. "And what are you doing here?"

"Well...there is a title, a position, I call my own, but I don't believe humans quite know it the same way we do."

"Humans? Are you saying you're not?"

"I was, once. But now...I am simply a messenger to this corrupt and evil-filled Earth. I clean up messes and that is all."

"Yeah...no. You're not making sense. Are you here to drag the body away?"

Hyungwon chuckled lowly, mirthlessly. "I don't deal with physical evidence. I'm here for this mess." When he snapped his fingers, next to him rose a smoky, grayish-pale mass, which churned and swirled to take the shape of a man, screaming eternally, mouth open in an unnatural, unhinged manner. Its features became sharply defined, even in the low light. Quickly, it became obvious that it was an exact match to the figure laying on the ground.

Minhyuk suddenly wanted to throw up again. "That's—"

"His spirit." Somehow, that lilting baritone still cut through the blond's incredulous muttering. "I am what you mortals call, perhaps...a grim reaper."

"But you are not grotesque in the least." Admittedly, at the words, the image of a hooded, robed figure with a scythe and skeleton face had come to Minhyuk's mind. "Perhaps a little pale and heavy-eyed, but..." Honestly, you're one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.

"And that is where the human definition of a grim reaper has gone astray. We are not ghastly. We walk among you." Almost before he had registered it in his mind, Minhyuk found himself face to face with the taller man. "Our appointed purpose is to guide the souls of the unsaved dead to their eternal rest in hell."

The blond's jaw was stuck open, unable to utter even a sound, in a moment all thoughts replaced by those of Chae Hyungwon. He was even more ethereal up close. All his muscles urged him to just reach forward, touch him, every inch of him, indulge a sudden and insatiable desire and curiosity.

But the moment was shattered by a woman's scream. She and her boyfriend turned into the alley, probably to make out, and froze at the sight of the dead, bloody body. In moments, they noticed someone else was still there as well. Then the couple was back out again, pounding feet thrumming on the sidewalk outside.

"I better go," Hyungwon sighed. "I have lingered too long as it is."

Minhyuk's eyes shot open, and he reached forward to grab the almost too-warm forearm of the taller boy. "Wai—wait, will I see you again?"

It was the other's turn to seem almost surprised. For a long moment he pondered what to say, before admitting, "Perhaps. Wherever I am needed, I will be." Then dark, stately Hyungwon was disappearing, fading into the shadows, gone without a trace.

"Minhyuk, come get ready for supper."

The calling voice jerked Minhyuk out of his reverie on the couch, and stirring slightly, the blond sighed. "Alright, give me a moment, Kihyun-ah."

A couple of weeks had passed since the whole alley incident, and as expected, nothing had come from the sudden and terrible death of the mob man, at least from the police. No investigation was made, no charges pressed. Not even a blurb about it was put in the daily newspaper. Minhyuk could feel the effects in his own life, though. Some of the higher-ups, and also those in his level of prestige, were more willing to look him in the eye or acknowledge his presence. He was finally considered a mob brother, after close to seven years of slaving for it, day in and day out. He hadn't chosen the life, but that was all he had now. Ever since he had been pulled in by him. Minhyuk cringed and growled under his breath at the thought of the man who insisted on being called sir, and...was practically the reason for everything that had gone wrong in his life. Even, perhaps, his very genesis.

But that was an issue for later. Minhyuk, having taken a moment like he said, pushed himself up and wandered into the kitchen, where five place settings were laid out his friend's kitchen table. Four pottery plates, and one paper. The very top of a booster seat poked up over the edge of the tablecloth. Yoo Kihyun was setting out everything they'd need for Bulgogi, a slight smile playing across his normally-serious expression. "Make yourself comfy. We'll dig in as soon as Jooheon, Changkyun, and Yujin are here."

Minhyuk did as he was told, pulling out the chair farthest from the booster, not the one with Kihyun's jacket draped over the back, either. In the midst of his friend's trips back and forth to the table, the blond felt himself start to drift off into his own thoughts again. Chae Hyungwon... As much as he had tried to forget the grim reaper entirely, Minhyuk had been unable to. The sight of his strained but handsome face hovering near his own was the ever persistent ghost of a memory. He desperately wanted to touch him, and probe deeper into the mystery of his tall, slender presence. The problem was though, how he was going to be there when Hyungwon appeared? He could go to nursing homes and things, places where fresh death was thick. But all at once it came back that the reaper had said it himself: "Our appointed purpose is to guide the souls of the unsaved dead to their eternal rest in hell." So simply old and dying dead would not work. The sudden violent death of criminals was needed instead. An idea started to tickle at the back of his mind.

At that moment, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Both boys didn't flinch; they both immediately knew who it was. Two low and laughing voices were the confirmation. Then, right on cue, a small face peeked around the corner. Minhyuk couldn't help but smile brightly, and a warm feeling filled his heart. "Oh!" He exclaimed, cutely. "Is that a Yujinnie I see?"

"You're right! It's me!" A five year old girl giggled and hopped into the doorway. The blond man held his arms out, and she ran right to them. "Uncle Min'ook!"

"Yujinnie!" The girl planted a gentle kiss on Minhyuk's cheek, and he smiled brightly, hugging her close, warmly, tightly.

Moments behind her were a familiar pair of dimpled faces: Jooheon and Changkyun. Their fingers came untwined as they stepped in to greet their friends. "Now, now, Yujin, Don't crush Minhyuk in that strong grip of yours," Changkyun teased.

"I won't, Koon-ah!" She said, and promptly turned to crawl up Minhyuk's chest, making grabby hands. This time it was toward the other, short, black-haired man, standing nearby with a towel over his shoulder. "Uncle Ki'oon!"

"Hello, cutie." Gingerly, Kihyun took the girl from Minhyuk, setting her on his aproned hip and booping her nose. "How are you and your dads?"

"P'etty good."

By then, everyone had their affectionate gazes fixed on Yujin's glowing face. Her cuteness was irresistible, even to people as hardened and tested as all four of the older men were. They all had seen and done their fair share of shit for the mob. Jooheon, for instance, was a sniper, and had taken out some pretty prominent city figures. Changkyun had been a male prostitute before dedicating himself solely to his boyfriend and now husband. Kihyun could cheat at poker like it was nothing, and had a golden ear and tongue for intel. Not to mention seduction skills worth boasting about. And Minhyuk...well, you, reader, already know about Minhyuk. But, seeing this now, nobody could believe that. The four of them were together for one purpose and one purpose only: to celebrate the smiling and giggling bundle of cute joy that was the two youngest boys's adopted daughter.

In minutes, all five of them were seated, and Kihyun was cooking the first round of meat. Of course, the first few pieces went to the little girl, who widened her eyes at the taste. "This is really good! T'ank you, Ki-yoon-ah!"

"Of course, Yujin." Kihyun seemed to be glowing at the little girl's praise. She had them all wrapped around her little finger. When Jooheon and Changkyun had decided to adopt a child a couple of months ago, none of them had been prepared in the slightest for the wild ride that awaited them. First, they went to a few orphanages, looking at potential matches, but it wasn't until the last one that things fell into place. Yujin had taken to them like a duckling to water. They had fallen head over heels and though the process to bring her home was long and complicated, they had persevered. Now she was an irreplaceable part of the family.

In no time, it seemed, The meat, rice, seaweed and water was gone, and everyone—most particularly the older boys—were leaning back in contentment. Kihyun looked ready to fall asleep, as well as Jooheon. However Changkyun still seemed pretty lively, and so did Yujin. "Play with me, Koon-ah." She begged, reaching her arms out for her younger dad.

"Alright, missy." The soft maknae scooped his daughter up into his arms.

"Uncle Min'ook-ah!" Little arms reached for Minhyuk as well. "You too!"

"After I do the dishes and help clean up. Ok?" Giving her a promise and a kiss on the forehead seemed to satisfy her. Nodding, she pushed on Changkyun's shoulder, nudging him to the living room. He only stopped for a moment, to lean over and peck Jooheon on the lips, before they were wandering out.

Minhyuk wasted no time in starting to collect dirty plates and taking them to the sink. It was a potentially long job, but he didn't mind. It was the least he could do to repay his close friend for the food. Also, it gave him a few more seconds of silence. Eventually, Kihyun and Jooheon moved away from the kitchen, allowing the blond some head space. He couldn't get the events of his initiation and the following strange encounter out of his head. He was almost totally lost in them—it was a miracle he didn't drop anything or break dishes.

Some time passed, exactly how much, Minhyuk wasn't sure, before little, running footsteps came into earshot again. Sure enough, Yujin came barreling around the corner. The blond couldn't help but grin as he dried a plate and set it with the others, to be put away later. "What are you doing, squirt?"

"Shh. I'm hiding from Koon-ah!" With that, she gave a giggle and dived forward, hands scrabbling for Minhyuk's calves. The feeling of small, chubby fingers on his ankles made the blond's heart warm and his smile grow. Maybe one day, he'd be able to have a child of his own, a small person who'd he selflessly give his love to—

In my dreams.

"Uncle Min'ook?" The five-year-old's voice startled him out of his thoughts. Minhyuk glanced down to see her curious eyes on him again. "W'acha t'inkin 'bout?"

"Oh, nothing, Yujinnie," he smiled encouragingly, the best he could. "Just grown-up stuff."

She didn't quite seem to be convinced, though; and a brief second later, she asked a question that flipped Minhyuk's world upside-down.

"You've seen him, haven't you?"

She could have been talking about anyone, but for some reason, Minhyuk's heart nearly stopped at the question. "Seen who?" he replied, continuing to force a pleasant expression.

"The tall, nice man...in dark clothes. He has big lips, too." She traced her mouth, as if her own was thick and luscious as well. For talking about someone who dealt with death and damned souls, her voice wasn't any less cheery than before.

Some bile rose to the blond's mouth, and he forced it back down, making his throat burn. He managed to choke a question out, somehow. "Is he really handsome?"

"Yeah-yeah." Yejin nodded vigorously. "You did meet him!"

"Yes." His answer came carefully. "Have you?"

A little 'mhm' sound was her confirmation. Now Minhyuk couldn't wet his lips, and he was too parched to speak. Yujin's voice came out in almost a whisper, and she shuffled her feet. "I was still at the or'panage, and one night I couldn't sleep, so I decided to get up. He was in the hall. I was scared at first, but he was so nice. He smiled at me and gave me a pat on the head."

"Why was he there in the dark?"

Yujin furrowed her eyebrows, mood shifting. "He said that after he was gone, I wouldn't have to cry anymore. And Mrs. Matron died."

Was this really real? Was anything anymore? A plate came close to slipping out of his hand, and he couldn't help but gape. Faintly, in the back of his head, Minhyuk recalled that Mrs. Matron was the mean, cruel former orphanage headmistress, who had treated the children like slaves. Because of the mob, he knew a lot of evil, dastardly people, but he couldn't imagine one who looked down on and wanted to exploit even the smallest orphan child. Some of the things that Yujin said sometimes about her put his stomach in knots and made his blood run ice cold.

In a moment, however, his mind returned to the tall grim reaper. Hyungwon had...shown her affection? He hadn't as much as let the corners of his mouth tip up in Minhyuk's presence, but somehow the idea of him smiling to a little girl wasn't alien at all.

But then, suddenly:

"You like him, don't you, Uncle Min'ook?"

The blond's mind went blank, and he scrambled in his head for an answer. Thankfully, he didn't have to, as just then, Changkyun peeked around the corner and locked eyes with his daughter. "Yujinnie!" He chortled. "There you are! You're a good hider. Or, maybe Minhyuk hyung is just a good hiding place, huh?"

There was a bright giggle, and the girl ran to the younger man's arms. "He is a good hiding spot." After another moment, she piped up again. "I was telling him about the tall man!" Something went through Changkyun's eyes, maybe alarm. "You know him, too, don't you, Uncle Min'ook?" She was so eager; Minhyuk almost felt bad for choosing to ignore the question and not say anything. Dropping his eyes to the dishes, he instead turned to put a few away.

The younger boy hummed disapprovingly. "Maybe we should get you home and to bed. The last time you talked about the tall man, you were so sleepy you couldn't keep your eyes open."

"But it's true!" A gigantic pout appeared, and a few tears as well. "He said his name was 'ywon—'yugwon—or something."

"Hyungwon," Minhyuk murmured under his breath, and Yujin snapped her head around.

"See, Koon-ah!"

"Let's talk about this with Jooheon later, ok?" Though Changkyun's voice was calm and even, relaxed and unstrained, Minhyuk could feel his intense gaze. It drilled into the older's head like a factory machine. It was all too clear that he didn't believe Yujin's story, and was trying to chastise his hyung for entertaining it. Who in their right mind would do the opposite? It was ridiculous—to someone who had never met a grim reaper before.

When Minhyuk returned to his small apartment that night, jumbled thoughts swirled in his head. He got all ready for bed and climbed under the covers, but ended up laying awake. He thought that he had been in a confused state when he left, but that was nothing compared to now. There were all these questions prodding him, answers he needed to obtain. What of Chae Hyungwon? Where was he now? As much as Minhyuk knew it was wrong, and he was being irrational, he hoped that the tall boy was thinking of him at least a little. What was this new feeling, like butterflies blooming at the thought of the tall grim reaper's presence? Puppy love? Lust?

For all the mess in his head, his heart beat to one thing and one thing alone: No matter what it takes, I will find him again.

The blond tossed and turned for a long time before finally, around 2am, he finally paid attention to the tingling in his restless legs and got up, flipping on the lamp at his bedside. Without really knowing why, but with a purpose lingering in a dark corner of his mind, he approached his closet. There was a safe stashed away in the back corner, and he pulled it open. The object he needed was right at hand, wrapped in a particular, black, bloody handkerchief—the knife. He had pulled it from that first victim, perhaps as a token of sorts. But now, the more Minhyuk stared at the dried blood on the blade and traced its sleek, deadly shape with his gaze, he grew to see it not as a weapon and instrument of death. It was a chance. A chance to make all his dreams come true. Something inside him was screaming that this was what he needed to finally find peace, to set the wrongs in his life right. To rid the world of some little evil.

The next day, Minhyuk walked into the hideout with the dagger strapped to his leg, its sharp point grazing his thigh. Jabs of pain, and a small trail of blood that soaked into his sock reminded him what he was supposed to do. He was determined: in order to see the love of his life again, and settle a personal vendetta, he'd become a living nightmare to those who'd wronged him and his family. Starting, of course, with the man formerly known as his father's best friend. Ah, what a lying title. Bang Jeongmin was in all reality, a traitor, one of many. Minhyuk knew who all of them were by now—there was Jeongmin-hyung and seven others, plus him.

See, Minhyuk's parents had been part of the mafia, too. Not just his father, but his mother as well. Mr. Lee, senior was a bootlegger, making dangerous and highly illegal runs between alcohol-soaked territories and ones under prohibition; he was well-known to all the speakeasy owners in the area. Mrs. Lee, on the other hand, sometimes masqueraded as a prostitute and could use her way with men to get whatever intel she needed from the police. Quite a few attempts at justice were foiled thanks to her talents. They weren't bad people, just desperate ones who found themselves tangled up in shady activities. Each simply had a will to survive and their own, fallible human heart. This was clear in what happened with Mrs. Lee once her future husband started to woo her. She knew right away that he was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, and resigned from her life of deceit. Faithfully, she waited for him every morning, afternoon, and night. Though she still helped where she could, she didn't do many of the things she had before, no matter the offer or opportunity. All she wanted was happiness with her husband.

Mr. Lee never failed to come home to her, either. By all outward appearances, their life was peaceful and content. They were very much in love, and got married fairly soon after their romance began. It seemed that nothing could keep them apart.

Oh, people tried. First there was the fact that after getting married, some men seemingly took it upon themselves to hurt Mr. Lee. He started to appear more frequently with fresh, bleeding cuts and bruised eyes. It eventually became so bad that his face was constantly marred, almost unrecognizable. Despite Mr. Lee's tolerance and patience through this abuse, it didn't stop, like he hoped. He was still working so hard to make sure the mob's every need was met, and yet they still often beat him. He began to suspect some bigger player was involved in all this. In particular, there was one big man who looked at the bootlegger with an especially malicious eye. His name was Mr. Cha Jaemin, and he was a new player, a star in the underground. It seemed that every single woman in sight pined after him and his empire. Yet, he was infamous and wanted because he was ruthless, and his venomous smile was enough to instill fear in the heart of everyone. It wasn't like Mr. Lee could just pin everything on the rising kingpin, though. A motive, if any, was unclear, and he couldn't directly prove it was him ordering the beatdowns.

Mrs. Lee, meanwhile, was suffering greatly as well. Her husband was now a far cry from the man she loved and had married. At least his personality and heart hadn't changed. To her, he was also still so handsome. Still, she worried, though for a long time she was too scared to ask about details, keeping her questions far away from everyone, even the mob contacts she still had. The frequency with which she pulled him to the bathroom and applied ointment and bandages was getting to her, though, and it finally broke her spirit completely. There was a night when, crying and sobbing into his shoulder, she implored him to tell her why he was always so beaten up. If there was anything she could do to make it stop, she wouldn't waste a second.

That was just the thing, though. He was afraid that if he spilled everything, there would be terrible consequences. "The higher ups have decided they like to pick on me, for some reason," he said softly, caressing her cheek. "Don't worry about me. It'll stop once they realize that they owe me nearly everything they have." Then he leaned down for a passionate kiss. He could barely keep from hissing in pain when his lip tore open again, but all he wanted was to soothe her with gentle touches, and satisfy her need for more when it burned hot in her breast and core.

One night, she waited and waited up for him. 1am passed, but he still wasn't there. It was the first time in years he hadn't returned before midnight, and though Mrs. Lee tried her hardest not to worry, she couldn't sleep. Laying in bed, tossing and turning, she prayed to a higher power that he wasn't dead or dying, just truly held up at work. Even, arrested and in jail. Anything was better than not being able to see her husband again.

The door creaked open. She was facing away, and for a moment she held her breath and let a smile play on her lips, expecting to hear the telltale signs of Mr. Lee getting ready for bed before a warm body slid in next to her.

But instead, rough hands grabbed her shoulder, pulling her over onto her back. The faces of several men glowered over her, and a cool cloth was pressed to her mouth and nose. She tried to struggle and fight, but suddenly she was being pulled down, down into blackness...

This was what she had told thirteen-year-old Minhyuk in her last days. Despite his young age, he could remember everything about how she looked lying in a hospital bed, an unknown affliction tearing the rest of her life from her. Minhyukie had been crying and unable to say a word, listening in horror as she had proceeded to relate how she had woken up the next morning to a red-faced, incredulous, and livid Mr. Lee stroking her forehead. A broken man, he could barely keep from crying. Pain washed through her every nerve, especially between her legs. Of course, it didn't take her long to realize that she had been drugged and gang-raped.

It wasn't until the traumatized boy was older that he learned exactly what that implied, and, more importantly, why it had happened. See, Mr. Cha had been in love with Mrs. Lee, and only wanting her for himself, became irrationally angry when she had fallen for her husband. Selfish and full of desire, he indeed had been the one giving orders to treat Mr. Lee dirty. When that didn't work, next he organized a group of his closest men around him, with the sole intent to force their way into the Lee household and violate the young wife. If that horror story wasn't enough, Mrs. Lee became pregnant and birthed a baby boy nine months after the incident: Minhyuk.

Now, twenty-three years later, the mogul was the one and only object of Minhyuk's blinding hate, but also his boss and one of the richest and most powerful men in the city. The blond felt so ashamed that he had looked up to him as a mentor, before this dark twist had come to light. Minhyuk could potentially be—and probably was—Mr. Cha's son, and that made the young man sick. Hell, he had nearly lost his lunch and dinner all over the ornate office rug when at the age of sixteen, he had pulled Minhyuk into his office and used a claim on Minhyuk's true paternity to rein the boy in. Afterwards, there were plenty of situations where it was brought it up again. It was an effort to keep Minhyuk loyal and compliant, and so far, it had worked.

After the deathbed confession, Minhyuk had slowly come to realize that his parents were completely aware of this, but had treated him like their child anyway. That touched the young man's tender heart (or whatever was left of it, anyway) and made tears flow on so many occasions. To Minhyuk, Mr. Lee would always be his true father, not that ugly man who was loving, but in all the wrong, twisted ways.

Somehow, Minhyuk managed to convince himself that this was the true reason he was going to start his crusade to "murder in the name of good". It wasn't just because he longed for another encounter with Hyungwon. Though yes—he wanted to see the man again. Some considered him to be death itself, but it brought the blond strange new life.

It was all too easy to lure Jeongmin into a trap. All it took was the tantalizing promise of premium Cuban cigars. Minhyuk hated them, but he knew that others, including his target, would do anything for them. "Lemme see the goods first," The older mob man demanded when they met in the sandy, grimy alley, the same one the first murder had gone down in. Minhyuk grinned and casually held out the open box filled with the tidy rolls of tobacco, a treasure he had worked hard for.

Jeongmin reached for them, but the younger pulled away at the last moment, tsking. "Where's my payment?"

As the traitor grumbled and reached into his pocket for his wallet, that was when the blond made his move. In nearly the exact same place he made his very first stab wound, the bloody knife plunged deep into Jeongmin's skin. Surprised at such a powerful and sudden move from the normally-meek and timid Minhyuk, his eyes went wide, and he croaked the beginning of his murderer's name. The familiar blood ran across the blond's hands, and he gripped the handle firmly and pulled it forward, through quivering flesh. In brief seconds, the grizzled mobster was lying on the ground, pale, cold and unmoving. Minhyuk stood, trembling, trying to get over the waves of shock and adrenaline, like the time before. Unconsciously, he ran his hand through his hair, getting the part bloody and wet.

When he glanced up, Hyungwon was standing there in the moonlight, staring at him. "You again," He said in that lazy drawl, and knelt down to wave his hand over the dead man's face. Minhyuk couldn't help but notice the gray mist that swirled up as he did so.

He chuckled. "Of course it's me. Who else would you expect?"

"I take thousands of murdered souls every day, sir—"

"Minhyuk's the name. Lee Minhyuk." A strange, wide smile grew on the blond's face. "And if that's true, than you remember me. I'm flattered."

Hyungwon's eyes widened, mouth falling open. "Okay, right. Minhyuk. It's not a wonder I didn't forget. You can see me. Not everyone has that honor."

In the moment, a few questions rushed through Minhyuk's head: Why were he and Yujin able to see Hyungwon, after all? Perhaps death was simply as lonely a fate as it was said to be, and they had happened upon the reaper at the brief point in time when he was making his call. Still, as soon as the musings were there, they were gone again, replaced by a single, voiced thought. "You know, I'm going to keep killing until you see me how I see you."

Hyungwon's eyebrow perked, and he glanced up. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Until you realize how beautiful you look bent over a dead body." Honey-laced words slipped out before Minhyuk could stop them.

It was easy to miss the small smirk that formed on the reaper's face, but it certainly did not go unnoticed by the human. "Did you just confess to me?"

"Perhaps I did."

"Hm. I'll have to mark this down as one of the more interesting experiences I've had in my years on the job."

"It better be the last time someone says anything like that to you, too." Minhyuk growled. Suddenly overtaken by boldness, he stepped forward, over the corpse, to tug on Hyungwon's white collar. Maybe it was just his imagination, but the grim reaper bent over all too easily. Their lips met in a one-sided, rough kiss. When they pulled away, the shorter man's eyes were heavy with want. Almost, need. It pained him to see Hyungwon walk back into the shadows and vanish. Though Minhyuk's lust in the moment gave him more of a rush than killing, he also wanted to keep teasing, have the beautiful boy keep him at arm's length for a long time to come.

As Lee Minhyuk watched the blood wash down the drain that night, he stroked himself and violently came to fantasies of the ever-so-tantalizing, otherworldly heat of death's harbinger. Talk about a guilty pleasure.

So, Lee Minhyuk became a serial killer. As the number of times he killed rose, the line between the bliss of seeing his enemies' deaths and encountering death itself blurred together. He always got a kick and a rush out of how they always agreed to meet him alone, thinking that there was absolutely no way that Lee Minhyuk, the pansy, could hurt them. Then when the first metallic kiss of the knife reduced them to a babbling mess, their eyes opened wide. Right after that thrill, another always came. For a while, seeing the grim reaper was enough, though he remained distant, quiet, and passive. Thus it was that Minhyuk's life became one of thirst, for blood and the gaze of Chae Hyungwon.

At some point, people within the crime ring realized that there was someone picking them off, systematically getting rid of certain individuals. After the sixth man fell, Mr. Cha decided that enough was enough and they needed to catch this psycho son of a bitch, now. He might have also been aware that his own life was hanging in the balance, but under the guise of caring for his men, he decided to put one of his lackeys on the case. The appointed scapegoat would start probing around to see if anyone was helping this killer, and what he was being paid for taking out those on his hit list. Well, that lackey happened to be Shin "Wonho" Hoseok.

Just like many others, Hoseok was a good guy who had gotten tangled up in bad situations. Some of the victims had been, too, before their untimely demises. So understandably, he was scared. He came into this new position—a promotion, of sorts—knowing that it might put him on the list for elimination. He was grateful, however, and prepared. So, Wonho listened attentively to what his boss had to say. Mr. Cha passed a few documents over, mostly crime scene reports taken from the police files. All of these violent and systematic killings had been assumed to be syndicate-related, and so the paid officers on the force had kept hush-hush so far, out of the public news, not bothering to follow up on investigations.

The handsome, yet strong young man set straight to work, poring through the files. Then he started to stick his hands in the muck, calling his contacts one by one. Because of his sexy body and cute smile, he could get pretty much whatever he wanted, from anyone he set his sights on. Still, it didn't seem to matter, as all he found was fear like his own. So many people were scared that they'd be next, that somehow this twisted, knife-wielding figure would find them in the night and end their lives prematurely. Wonho couldn't find anyone willing to admit they were paying an assassin, and he doubted that anyone he talked to was lying about not knowing anything of that nature, so he quickly became stuck. And with time not on his side (another two men had been slain while he talked to everyone he could think of) something had to be done. He had no choice but to go to his last resort. It would be a long shot, he knew, and very risky, but if he was persistent, things might just pay off.

So, on a Tuesday afternoon, he strolled into a stone building downtown and made his way to the third floor, where a cozy lobby was tucked away. The petite brunette secretary frowned when she looked in her book and saw he hadn't called in advance.

"I'm very sorry, sir, but Mr. Son rarely sees clients without an appointment."

"That's okay," Hoseok said, cheerily. "Can't hurt to ask, huh?"

"He's busy right now," she seemed to be growing ever more flustered and annoyed at Hoseok's sunny smile. "You don't have much of a chance, sir--"

"I'm willing to wait." Promptly, Wonho went to one of the hard chairs in the lobby, set his folders on his lap, and started to glance out the window, knowing that looking at nothing would set her at unease.

Though the girl behind the desk still huffed at him for a while, his hard work paid off, eventually. It only took a half-hour, too. Muttering something like fine, she sighed and picked up the telephone at her side, holding down the receiver hook and waiting for a moment. Presently, there was a click, and a male voice floated through, faintly: "Yes, Miss Hani?"

"Mr. Son...I know that you usually don't take walk-ins, but there's a young man out here who won't leave. He's staring out the window, driving me crazy, and I swear his pout is something even the most hardened of men can't resist—"

"Alright, well if he's so insistent, send him in, then." (Wonho cheered inwardly, but he fought the smile that wanted to grow on his face.)

"Of course, sir." As the secretary set down the phone, her eyes drifted back up to Hoseok, who had stood to await directions. "Down the hall, on the left. It's pretty hard to miss his name on the window. Knock before you go in."

The mafia man gave her a deep bow and polite thanks, and made his way closer to the office he needed. He passed two doors before stopping in front of where Son Hyunwoo, Private Detective was carefully hand-painted on a frosted pane in gold letters. Despite his outwardly cool and collected countenance, the files couldn't seem to stop shifting in his hand, and he was sweating underneath his collar. If he was caught associating with anyone but his brothers, he would be killed for sure, and not by the serial murderer. The only thing Hoseok felt could help him now, though, was a fresh, experienced pair of eyes, and he had come to some of the best ones in the world. South Korea's resident sleuth, Son Hyunwoo wasn't just a household name in his own country; the man was famous internationally. He had an uncanny ability to crack the toughest cases, even some that were decades cold. No wonder he had been so hard to find and see, people off the street must often demand his services.

Hoseok raised his fist, knocked firmly three times, and was greeted by a flat "come in". He didn't need a second prompting, turning the burnished brass knob and slipping into the room. Usually, he wasn't one to be shy, but all of a sudden Wonho was aware of a pair of eyes on him, and the weight this meeting carried. He could barely look at the investigator's desk, let alone the man himself, as he turned toward it and bowed. "Son Hyunwoo? I'm Wonho. I'm sorry to bother you, if you're busy right now. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

A warm and rich (though slightly robotic) voice hit the mobster's ear and melted there. "It's fine, and you're welcome. Please, no need to be so formal. Take a seat, would you?" Immediately, Hoseok scrambled to do as he was told, settling down in a hard wooden chair again before gathering the courage to glance up. When he finally was able, he couldn't stop a gasp from slipping his lips, and his eyes widened. The detective was--handsome. He had dark hair and broad, muscular shoulders that reminded Wonho of his own. They were filling out an almost-too-small white button up shirt and suspenders. His lips were parted a little, head popped up from a pile of paperwork. Thick glasses framed his eyes, and his pen tapped gently on the desk. This was him? The world-famous sleuth and warrior for justice? It had to be, Hoseok thought. He had the same voice as on the phone, and the name was on the door and also a desk placard, so there was no room for doubt.

"Something wrong? What is it?" The detective asked after a long moment of silence.

Shaking his head side to side to clear the jumble of thoughts, Hoseok chuckled. "Sorry. I just--wasn't expecting someone so young."

And hot.

"Well, what did you think you'd see?"

"Ah--I really can't say. Someone graying I think, the picture of a grizzled veteran. Or, maybe tall and skinny, like Sherlock Holmes. How old are you, anyway?"

"Twenty-four," Hyunwoo replied. "Yeah...many people are thrown the first time they meet me."

"I mean, it's not that you don't look like a P.I, and a damn good one at that too. It's just that your reputation precedes you...makes you seem older, more experienced, ya know?"

"I know." Something akin to sadness flitted across the detective's face, but then he squared himself and gave a curt nod. "But I promise that I'm every bit as good as what they say in the papers."

"Oh, I don't doubt that." Probably good in bed, too, Hoseok thought fleetingly, but shoved it down. Now the two men wore matching smirks. "Well, um, that said...let's get to the point, huh?"

Hyunwoo leaned back and gestured for Hoseok to continue. The mob man swallowed. "Before I ask...I need to make it clear that if you choose to help me, you might be making enemies with the law. You'll be saving lives, but depending on where you stand, whether those lives are worth saving is...questionable." Turning and rummaging around in the pocket of his coat, he produced three one hundred dollar bills and laid them on the desk. "Here's some money for your trouble, don't worry, it's mine. Take it as a little promise, and payment of a walk-in fee...though I doubt you have one in the first place."

Something glinted deep behind Hyunwoo's pupils. Though anyone would have expected it to be about the cash, Hoseok realized with a jolt that wasn't the case. The detective seemed to be more interested in the hand that paid it, and his eyes narrowed, searching Hoseok's face. "Okay...I'm intrigued. Go on."

"I don't mean to dance around anything with you, and that said, I think you should first know that I work for Mr. Cha Jaemin."

"As in, rules the city and the black market...Kingpin of crime, most wanted on every list, Cha Jaemin?" Hyunwoo seemed incredulous.

"The one and only." Anyone even close to the police and crime in this city knew the big boss's name. Just speaking it had a way of instilling fear into people. "But this is not for him. This is for the boys...my brothers, if you know what I mean. See, there's been someone picking us off, and we're not quite sure who. He's murdered eight of us in the last three weeks." Hoseok leaned back and flipped open the file on top of his pile, turning it toward the investigator.

Hyunwoo took it, and scanned the document briefly. "Police reports...where'd you get these?"

"Mr. Cha has his ways." Hoseok, himself, wasn't sure how. Perhaps a dirty cop or inside man snuck them out for him. "Some of the men being killed are close to the Boss, and have at one point or another been his close friends. But the reason I'm here, talking to you, is..." Pulling out another file, Hoseok opened it and placed it on top of the other. "This is Moon Jongup...or was Moon Jongup, a buddy of mine before the Mafia killer ended his life. He was a good guy...just a runner, pulled into crime against his will. He had a wife and unborn child, who now are without a husband and father. There are a lot of us who are scared, Mr. Son, because we're in the same boat. We have families and dreams just like any other person, and we're afraid we're going to be next."

The detective paused, staring at the photograph of Jongup's bloody body. It was a long minute before he spoke again. "What about you, Wonho?" His voice rumbled quietly. Hoseok swallowed when Hyunwoo's gaze met his again. "Why are you here, asking me for help?"

"I'm the one being paid to work the case, but not in this way. Mr. Cha is convinced that this is a paid hitman and sent me to talk to people, but I've probed my entire web and still nothing. I've run out of viable options. Besides, I have people I want to protect, too."

"So, then I take it that Wonho isn't your real name."

It meant protector. Hoseok had started calling himself that, and it stuck with everyone. He could have, should have, denied it. It wouldn't have been a stretch to smile wistfully and pass it off as coincidence. For some reason, however, he already trusted Hyunwoo. "Yeah, no, it's not." The mobster sighed and dropped his gaze. "My given is Hoseok--Shin Hoseok."

"That one fits you, too." The mobster dared to glance up, and had to stop and get his heart beating again. Hyunwoo was smiling, showing white teeth and crescent moon eyes with wrinkles on the outsides. Damn that cute expression. Maybe Hoseok shouldn't have trusted the detective with his knowledge, because all of a sudden blush was rising to his cheeks.

The moment was fleeting, and sorely missed as Hyunwoo's expression set, determination flashing behind his eyes. "Alright. I shall help you, no matter the consequences to my practice or reputation. If there is one man like you we can save...It will be worth everything." The detective offered his hand, and Hoseok met it with a firm grip. Happiness danced on the younger man's face. Tears were gathering in the corners, tears of relief, that was. Maybe together, they'd be able to take down this killer. They traded files, and Hyunwoo took the others and started combing. "So...what makes you so certain that this is one man doing all these by himself?"

"I don't know. There's not really any concrete proof, other than the patterns are similar and the victims' connections. Most of us--who kill, or have killed at one point or another, do it in much the same way. So yes, it could be a couple or few separate individuals. I just have a feeling about it being one person, someone no one would suspect, and that's why he's been so successful thus far."

"Fair enough. You know, looking at all these pictures side by side..." Hyunwoo pulled a couple and laid them out in front of him. "The placement of the knife wound, dominant hand, and position of the bodies all point to a single murderer as well. A...serial killer, at the stage this is at."

"God...just as I'd feared. We have a lunatic on our hands."

"It seems so."

He wouldn't admit it to himself, but for Minhyuk, it boiled down to the fact that he was getting pretty desperate. Every kill, and every day that passed, only brought him closer to his goals, but at times it didn't seem to be enough. He tried everything he could think of, no matter how inane or complicated, but still the object of his affection was transient and out of reach. Hyungwon didn't return his love, though he did seem to be opening up. It gave the blond hope, but he needed more time, precious hours, days that he might not have. The list of the original nine left alive was always shortening. Plus, he could feel himself growing in favor with Mr. Cha. The Boss often asked for Minhyuk to come into his office, only to tell him something inconsequential and send him away again, or "have him around" (the younger man heard from others what this would lead to, and strangely, he wasn't fazed). The killer inside of him starting to unintentionally look for other motives. One he found was a dogfighting ring using family pets stolen out of yards. Those who showed up to watch often bet which canine would die first. All those poor slain dogs made Minhyuk's soft side hurt and anger flare, and soon the illegal matches had to stop because spectators and organizers were too afraid.

Then things got out of hand—the body count expanded to fifteen. It was getting harder, as well, to lure victims out in the open. People started to notice that the mafia killer had a pattern. Men who usually were unafraid of anything now ducked for cover, and paled at the mention of the string of murders. Confusion reigned, above all, regarding the identity of the killer, and people scrambled to make accusations, all false ones. Minhyuk found himself almost drunk on this feeling of power, no matter how anonymous it was. He now enjoyed the feeling of blood on his hands, thick and warm, almost hot. Also, the sight of red mixed with clear water, swirling down the shower drain, became a constant he depended on.

Hyungwon, of course, wasn't aware of all of this, or the human's vendetta. He had his job, and that was it. Time to linger was not afforded him. Still, the grim reaper was all too conscious of the obsession. After that second meeting, and Minhyuk's kiss, the taller boy tried to keep himself detached and cold, hoping it would go away. That quickly became a flimsy wish. Time and again he was sent to collect another slain soul, and as soon as he arrived on the scene, knew who had done it. The blond's pattern was all too clear, and he would always be waiting. It was getting harder to ignore the urgency in the human's fleeting touches. He often grabbed Hyungwon's hand and begged him to stay, if only for one more minute. The puppy-like eyes and little pout was hard to resist, so perhaps it shouldn't have been a surprise when it happened for the first time, and Hyungwon found himself acquiescing. A heart still existed in his chest, after all, even if it wasn't beating. Rolling his eyes, he pulled Minhyuk into a hug, though it wasn't warm--literally. (The reaper was practically undead, so he didn't have body heat.) Minhyuk didn't seem to mind though, nuzzling into the taller's neck and squeezing him affectionately in return. That seemed to placate him until their next meeting, when again the shorter asked to be held, and again Hyungwon gave in.

The tall grim reaper hadn't always been this way. Once upon a time, he had been a twisted double agent. Though he started out working just for his own country, with time, greed became his vice. No one could resist the handsome soldier's charms and good looks. Soon he was playing every side he could for money and power. Minhyuk was a murderer, but Hyungwon had been so much more. One of the curses of him "living" to walk the earth and collect souls was that he could remember and name off every one of his kills, conquests, and underhanded activities, even two hundred years after he had committed them. On that last day, he walked into his bed-chamber at night, shut the door behind him, and was met with the point of a knife digging into the nape of his neck. He didn't need to know which one of his enemies was there lying in wait, because it really didn't matter. He challenged the person in the darkness to just get it over with already, and they had. (It was a woman, whose husband Hyungwon had fucked and killed a few weeks before.)

He expected to go to hell, but didn't imagine it to be full of ashen-pale, tangible people, beings that could almost be alive. At his curious gaze, they steered him away from the lines of other straggling souls and brought him to a lavishly-furnished room. These were the quarters of the shining deity, Lucifer. That day he had learned that he could see death, so he was to become death, himself. Some people earned it, like in his case, with all the wrong they'd done in their brief Earthly stay, and others just never lost the ability to look upon the face of a reaper after growing out of childhood. Hyungwon would still have a body, and a memory, but his emotions and free will would be stripped completely. Or, so Satan told him. Now, though, as the reaper carried out orders, cursed to do the same wretched thing for the rest of eternity, something was different. He wasn't supposed to be feeling anything, and yet he was. Was he truly changing, or...maybe, was Minhyuk changing him?

Because despite the reaper's determination not to get too close, somewhere along the way, the man who murdered to see death was causing a stir in his chest. Sometimes Hyungwon could swear that blood coursed languidly through his veins once more when he emerged on crime scenes that were so clearly the blond's. It had been a long time since the reaper had been needed like this, but that wasn't quite convinced that this was the sole reason why Lee Minhyuk succeeded in breaking him down. The shorter boy was not the kind of person Hyungwon would have liked to see in life, but death had changed him, and he came to appreciate the kinder things in the world. Certainly, one of them was how cute Minhyuk's smile was, another the change in his countenance when he saw the grim reaper, and yet another his uneven blink. Then there was the aesthetic side. Hyungwon came to look forward to stepping out of the mist, into the night, and seeing how the moonlight fell on the soft features of Minhyuk's face. Even the blood that often dripped from his hands was sexy, and how the other always got his hair red and wet from running his fingers through it. Before long, Hyungwon realized that he was majorly screwed. Because despite how he knew it was so wrong to love the human, he couldn't help the fact that he had taken over his entire existence. It was only a matter of time until he would crack.

One fine, breezy night, Hyungwon emerged upon a familiar scene. A body was laying on the ground, knife embedded in that well-placed spot on the neck, as like so many times before. There was one crucial thing missing, though: the murderer. Hyungwon about panicked and was going to look around, but then a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. A body pressed into his back, and lips, hot and full, moved against his shoulder. "Hello, sexy boy," Minhyuk murmured into the wool of the reaper's long trench coat.

So many times, Hyungwon had considered returning the murderer's affection, allowing himself to fall in love. But he could never bring himself to. There was too big of a rift between them, and it made things even more painful when they were close like this. Sighing, the taller tried to hold out. "You know there's no way we could possibly be together—"

"Fuck that." The hug became a vice grip, and the grim reaper jumped. He had never heard Minhyuk angry before. "We're together now. What if we could, even it's just for seconds at a time? Do you want me like I want you?"

Damn, the guy could be so needy sometimes. Hyungwon rolled his eyes and turned around in the shorter's arms. Then, half-closing his eyes, he leaned down and caught those red lips with his own. At first, Minhyuk didn't respond, but presently, perhaps out of instinct, he reciprocated the kiss, moving slowly against the reaper's mouth.

"...oh," Minhyuk gasped when they broke. The taller boy smiled slyly, reveling in the fact that he had caught the other so off-guard he didn't know what to say. Hyungwon knew that the murderer had probably dreamed of that moment.

"Now." The reaper wriggled his way out of the embrace. "I have a job to do, so if you'll excuse me..."

A soft whine slipped involuntarily out of Minhyuk's mouth, and he scrabbled forward to wrap Hyungwon in a hug again. "No, Wonnie, one more minute...one more kiss? Pleeease?"

Nights where Minhyuk was clingy like this were the grim reaper's bane and joy, all at the same time, it seemed. He clicked his tongue and shook his head at the blond. "Alright. Just let me go for a minute. There's a soul that kinda needs to be taken care of, or else you'll have a ghost on your ass for the rest of your life."

Hyungwon felt the grip on him hesitantly loosen, and he went to where the newest victim lay face-up on the dirt. As usual he waved a hand over the dead guy's face, and the grim reaper felt the spirit join his own, disappearing into him. Then he returned to Minhyuk's embrace.

"Does this mean...that you'd say yes to being mine?" The puppy eyes were on, and like always they could make the most hardened heart soft. "I know you told me there was no way we could be together, but if I asked you to reconsider, would you?"

The serial killer's tone was pleading, almost desperate, and it took Hyungwon aback. He had to pause and consider it. If this was anyone else, he'd probably laugh and insist on no. "I--I still am having trouble hoping. But I do want you."

Minhyuk reached up to kiss him. "All I need is these small moments. Even if I'm a fool to depend on them."

"But what about when we can't see each other anymore?"

"When I know that, will be the moment I can't go on living. I'll give myself a taste of my own medicine, turn my knife on myself..."

"No, no, don't say any more, you'll be lost to me forever," Hyungwon silenced his boyfriend with a thumb to the lips. "Yeah...just--enjoy the time you have. I'll think of something, ok?"

And so Hyungwon and Minhyuk started to work out the problems that came with being from two completely realms--the dead and the living--and how romance worked then. It was a lot of standing together, the human half-snuggled under Hyungwon's trenchcoat, breathing in his scent. The reaper's noodle arms held everything together, and kisses were frequent. Minhyuk didn't mind the lack of heat in his boyfriend's embrace, because the passion was there in place. If he wasn't in love before, he was now.

The grim reaper was at a loss. He pondered every possible way they could be together, but there was nothing. A couple times he prayed for something to be shown to him. Not like anyone would hear, even Lucifer. He was just at his wit's end.

Minhyuk didn't expect the day to come as soon as it did. He knew the times he saw Mr. Cha staring at him were getting more frequent, and the time spent close to him hit stretches of three hours straight or more. Still, one night, when the Boss sent for him at nine-thirty pm, a strange time and not at all like usual, something felt different. Perhaps, more final.

The kingpin always demanded that his men arrive within twenty minutes of the summons. Consequences were harsh if one did not comply, so Minhyuk made extra sure he wasn't wasting even a second. The man standing watch brought him upstairs, to a familiar wooden door. The blond had to draw in a long, slow breath of air before pushing it open. To say he was nervous was a huge understatement. If this was the night he was going to murder Mr. Cha, he better make sure it happened, because he only had one chance. If the boss was any less than shocked and surprised, Minhyuk probably wouldn't live to see the next day.

Almost immediately, an imposing figure came into view, behind a fortress of a wooden desk. The room was dark, except for the moonlight through two picture windows, on either side of the large oak construction. A single lamp also shined. All caution and concern rose to the forefront of Minhyuk's mind, and suddenly his feet wanted to run. Despite his intentions, far away from here was the best place to be now. Still, with a mental effort, he made himself stay still, and then bend at the waist toward his employer.

It might be strange for some to imagine someone like Cha Jaemin to be reading a book about legitimate business, and yet he was. Setting it down and taking off his bifocals, the boss crooked a finger in the blond's direction. "Ah, Minhyuk. Come here." The young man obeyed, dipping his head respectfully as he approached the big hunk of oak. Mr. Cha's gaze, tinged with something that sent a sweep of distaste and anxiety through the younger man, swept him appraisingly. Obviously, there was more than mild curiosity in it. Something glimmered behind the kingpin's eyes. The only little comfort he had was a letter opener on the desk, gleaming and calling his name as it sat by a stack of mail.

"You remind me so much of your mother," he said at last, pushing himself up from the chair to walk around toward Minhyuk's side. The killer was all too aware that he was being caged in against the oak desk. He turned so that he could face his boss head-on.

"You have her cheekbones, complexion...lips..."

By this point, the two of them were pretty much pressed together; Minhyuk leaned back as far as he could, but it was still no use. The older man reached over to swipe one rough thumb across Minhyuk's jaw, before the latter found himself pulled into an unwanted kiss. Of course, this wasn't completely unexpected, but that didn't make it any less repulsive. At least, hopefully, his momentary tense state made things a little more believable. The young man struggled within himself for a moment before allowing himself to melt into the kiss, eyelids drooping closed. If he pretended that the rough nibbling on his bottom lip was Hyungwon, and not his boss, it made things slightly better.

A slap on the ass elicited a gasp from the younger, and he popped his eyes open to see lust in Mr. Cha's dark irises. "You taste like her, too...absolutely perfect."

Their lips reconnected, and a pair of greedy hands pressed their bodies together. The creepy crawlies in Minhyuk's belly only intensified as he felt something stiff poke his thigh. It was in that moment that reality caught up, and it took all he had to not throw up in the jackass's face. This is actually happening...we're about to--

Mr. Cha pushed him back onto the desk. After a solid thirty seconds of fumbling with the younger's belt and pants button, he was able to slip one hand underneath the fabric. The other worked up Minhyuk's dress shirt, undoing the buttons and exposing milky pale chest. The blond did not want his cock stroked, but allowed it. In addition to letting his mind blank, he did everything in his power to keep from moaning and groaning, biting the inside of his lip. Still, how his body showed pleasure was a more automatic thing, so nevertheless he was hardening under his not-father's hand. Minhyuk scrabbled for a grip and stability and tried to claw at the other's chest too. Instead of acting as a signal to back off, as intended, though, it only seemed to make the older man more greedy and impatient. Of course, this was Cha Jaemin, who always got what he wanted and never took no as an answer. Though the mob boss didn't realize it, the younger's desperate gestures, that practically screamed get off me and you sick fuck, were a last chance to save himself.

But, again, much to both Minhyuk's horror and pleasure, he went completely ignored. Mr. Cha was all in. Now, there was only the need for the perfect moment.

"Fuck, do you know how beautiful you are? I guess I should have known, though, you are my legacy, after all." This affirmation, punctuated by ugly, heavy breathing, was followed by a smirk that managed to be lewd and sly and evil all at the same time. "On the desk for me, pretty boy."

The blond obeyed, though every fiber of him screamed not to. They were moving like a freight train, and honestly, if Mr. Cha's life wasn't hanging in the balance, the younger would be jumping out the window right that moment. Rough hands gripped Minhyuk's waist, pulling him ever closer to the edge. The blond didn't need to look down to know that his boss's hard cock was prominent through his slacks. Minhyuk's was straining his own fabrics, too. When his pants and underwear came down and off his legs, the cold air that hit it brought some semblance of much-needed relief. Then the crime boss was unzipping his own fly, and again the younger man couldn't look. He didn't even want to think about it.

Minhyuk was finally able to get the letter opener in a position ideal for the task at hand. Luckily, Mr. Cha was so engrossed in his sick pleasure that he didn't notice. "God, look at your ass...why didn't I make it mine before?" A rough finger, coated in oil, filled him up, and at that point it was impossible to imagine it was Hyungwon anymore.

The digits were a countdown: One, and then a few seconds later, two. The blond's killer instinct shoved down his instinctive pleasure reactions, and left him staring intently, anticipation and adrenaline building.

Three.

The sharp silver blade glinted in the moonlight of the office, and like twenty-one times before, it hit its mark. The force was more brutal, too, since Minhyuk was, physically, very close to the victim. For the first time that evening, a grin grew across his face as Mr. Cha immediately went flaccid, and pulled his fingers out of the younger man.

Normally, at this point Minhyuk would break the 'numb' that came with being stabbed by jigging the knife around in the wound, but he had some things that the boss needed to hear. "That's for my mom," he growled. "Like the other eight were for her, too."

"Y--you," Mr. Cha was finally able to croak, and giving a grunt, the younger boy ripped the letter opener back out of him. "You--'re the,"

He didn't finish, because this time Minhyuk found a second point: slightly left of middle, in the older man's chest. Cha Jaemin choked and spit up blood.

"Yeah, yeah, it's been me this whole time...didn't think I'd do anything, huh? That I would never be a threat? You could just gloat that you created me with that dick of yours, use me like an animal, and then move on with your life? Like you have with so many others? No, I've taken things into my own hands. I'm sick of living under your thumb." Now was the chance to cause him pain. The younger boy clamped a hand around the crime boss's throat, preventing him from making much more than a croak while Minhyuk twisted that motherfucking letter opener with everything he had. He stopped only when he knew the guy was at his pain threshold. "You'll never be my father. My surname's Lee. Go to hell and suck on that cock of a fact."

In addition from not being able to breathe because of Minhyuk's strangely strong hand crushing his windpipe, Mr. Cha was already bleeding from the neck, and struggling with a pierced lung. His terrified expression cemented in time when he choked on blood one last time and the last breath left his body.

That was it, the younger man realized in the moment. The deed was done.

Once again, Minhyuk found his hands covered in blood. He didn't mind, though. Shoving Mr. Cha's body off of him, he let it hit the floor with a thud, and the younger boy shakily got up. Turning, he grabbed a pen from the desktop, and a piece of paper, letting his thoughts and reasons flow out onto the page. He wasn't quite sure why he did, it just was something he needed in the moment. The note was finished quickly, since he had been planning what it would say for as long as he could remember.

Then, afterwards, he summoned up everything he had and headed for a couch by the window on the other side of the room. The momentary burst of strength waned quickly, however, and finally exhaustion crashed in. The mental strain of everything was too much, and he collapsed on the soft cushions, running a hand through his hair, head lolling back. His naked chest heaved up and down, rising and falling in broken time with his panting. The lingering adrenaline, and how he was still painfully hard and exposed to the world, made his face flush red. There was also the feeling of being prepped but un-penetrated, the wet of the oil nearly driving him crazy. Thought after thought after thought sped across his conscience, coming and going before finally he blanked out completely.

One more time, he opened his eyes and glanced over to where Mr. Cha Jaemin laid on the floor, cold and dead. Then he let his weighted lids fall. Everything was over, thank God. The last thing he wanted in life was done and squared away. He had revenge for his mother and father, revenge for himself.

The blond sat there for what seemed like an eternity (much the same as the first time he had killed). Then, there was a sound: the office door opening. Light, familiar footsteps only barely disturbed the calm atmosphere that had settled over everything. Minhyuk thought he heard a second of hesitancy, and a quick, stunned breath. It could have been the ghost of a reaction, though, because in moments clothes rustled as Hyungwon knelt over the mob boss's body. Minhyuk, in his mind's eye, could see that slender hand waving over the dead face, gray mist disappearing into his palm, and suddenly, he was turned on again. Moaning a little, he bucked unconsciously into the air. Never had he wanted a touch more, for someone's fingers around his cock. It made him want to jerk himself off, but something held him back.

More soft footfalls echoed through the silence, coming closer. Fabric chafed again, and something heavy and woolen was laid over the couch; a coat. Slightly warm lips brushed the blond's. Then, so gently that the human might have called it a dream, his undead boyfriend's hand wrapped around his member and started to pump. Minhyuk felt a jolt of pleasure course through him, and dragged his eyes open to the heavenly sight of Hyungwon straddling him, pupils blown and lips trembling with desire.

"Fuck," the grim reaper muttered. "You weren't kidding when you said you'd do anything."

Minhyuk was barely able to smile and shake his head. He had told his boyfriend about the vendetta during the nights they stood close, huddled together over a murder victim. "No..." He felt like he could burn up at any moment, and Hyungwon's grazing touches weren't enough. "Shit, Wonnie, don't tease...I need you..."

The grip on his dick tightened, and lips drifted down the blond's neck, sucking at a bruise Mr. Cha had made. Still, death's voice was snappish and concerned, though it didn't lose its lazy tendency. "You knew this would happen, hmm?" Minhyuk nodded. "Why didn't you mention it? I could have done something. You belong to me."

An unwanted, disbelieving chuckle slipped out of the murderer's mouth. "Can't fool me, Wonnie. You might be here for souls, but you're not the killer of the two of us. That's why I've gotta do it."

"Not quite true." Hyungwon dusted kisses along Minhyuk's jaw, and the latter could feel the smirk on his face. "It's painful in the extreme for the other person, but I can steal a soul prematurely. Once the soul is gone, the body cannot function."

"That's the cruelest thing I've-ah--ever heard."

"Yeah, it's pretty messed-up."

"I would ask if you'd do it to me, but--"

"Shh, shh." Hyungwon went to silence him with his own lips. "Let's not talk about that now. Just relax. God, I really wish I could fuck you into the couch so hard your soul wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow."

"Me, too, but...your hand is almost as good, baby." Minhyuk gave a shudder and gasp when the reaper swiped his thumb over his slit, and immediately afterwards dived into a more passionate kiss. "I wanna touch you, too," he whined, gently dragging his hand over the front of Hyungwon's pants.

"Then touch me."

The blond's fingers were shaky, but he managed to undo the button and slide underneath the layers. It might have been his imagination, but was the vein on the underside of his boyfriend's length throbbing a little?

Hyungwon slowed his strokes on Minhyuk as the pleasure started to register. Having someone touch him like this was better than he remembered--or maybe it was just because this was Lee Minhyuk, the serial killer who could see death, and consequently fell in love with death--and death had fallen in love with him, too.

Something occurred to the tall boy in that moment, something he hadn't thought about until now. "Minhyukkie? What if I told you that--that we could be together forever?"

It was hard to breathe, let alone speak, when they were constantly wasting air in heaving pants. Minhyuk was drawing closer to his end, and Hyungwon felt--stiff--

"You're hard," The former murmured in awe, and the grim reaper's eyes widened.

"What?

"You're literally, erect." Minhyuk said, breath ragged. His cock twitched under his boyfriend's hand. Simultaneously, Hyungwon's did, too, and that was when the taller realized that it was true. He even had precome starting to bead on the tip. I'm dead, I shouldn't be able to-- permeated his mind for a split second, before Minhyuk grabbed his chin, gazed into his glazed eyes, and pleaded, earnestly:

"Wonnie, please, please fuck me."

Who would Hyungwon be if he didn't heed that request? Soon his own clothes were draped over his coat, and he was positioned between Minhyuk's spread legs. The blond was spine-down, laying on the couch, waiting with breathing uneven and so much lust in his eyes. Hyungwon pressed the head of his cock into the already-lubed and prepped ring of muscle, and pushed himself firmly in, coaxing a moan from the human. "Sh--shit. Your ass is to die for, all over again."

The reaper started slow, picking up pace as Minhyuk asked for more. Their moans filled the silence, broken curses and phrases of adoration, until unexplainably, Hyungwon's train of thought from earlier returned. "W--what if I told you that we could be together forever?" Too wound up to reply properly, the blond just listened, knowing he'd probably go on, and he did. "I didn't realize until now, but you can see me...the only ones who are able are children, and...those destined to become re--reapers themselves."

"So you're saying--when I die--"

"You'll be the same as me, and we won't be separated by the burning chasm." Hyungwon dove in for another kiss, and his hand slipped to Minhyuk's cock, slipping up and down it at a critical pace. The human tightened his grip around his boyfriend's neck and moaned loudly as he finally came, spilling across his own belly.

Minhyuk's orgasm sent the reaper over the edge, too, and his cum filled his boyfriend's ass. For a moment, death felt that he was in heaven.

"Together forever," came a shaky voice underneath him. "What are we waiting for?"

☛ E P I L O G U E

"So...this is it, huh?"

"I-I think so." Hoseok stuttered in reply, picking up a piece of paper from the desk, white sanitary gloves gently touching the corners. "This note seems to be the end-all...he even admits to having murdered twenty-one people for revenge, and love. I have no clue what that means though, or what the context is?"

"Yeah, Damn...we'll probably never know for sure." Hyunwoo whistled and glanced at the scene in front of him. After so much sleuthing together, time in the lab, and finding a bloody handprint on the wall of the alley where the first two murders had taken place, the two of them had finally felt comfortable enough to come to the Boss and present their findings. However, it wasn't to be, because instead, they had opened the door on a fresh, brutal scene. Two men had met their end, one was Mr. Cha and by familiar knife wound, and the other, their prime suspect, Lee Minhyuk, apparently of natural causes. They were both naked from the waist down, the former facedown on the floor. The detective had seen some pretty strange things in his lifetime, but this was at another level.

"Oh my God." Wonho sucked in a breath, and Hyunwoo snapped his head around just in time to watch his eyes widen. "Fucking-listen to this:

'Mr. Cha Jaemin will never hurt anyone again. I am glad. Such scum does not deserve to walk the Earth, let alone hold power over people. He claims me as his son, and I might very well be, as he violated my mother and I was born nine months afterwards. I found myself at his mercy again tonight, and though my current state might be conflicting, I would never allow the same thing that made me, in me...'

"um,

'good thing I have my sweet love Death to help me through. He should be here any minute, and everything will be alright.'

"This is crazy. I mean it's always been obvious that the Boss was off the deep end. But Minhyuk, I did not expect this at all..." the younger man swallowed, pink tinting his cheeks. "I guess I should have told you this before, but I knew him...just a little. Mutual acquaintances-you know."

"That's okay. You didn't need to say anything. It wasn't important to the case. Actually, I'm proud of you for not letting yourself drag emotion in. We had conclusive physical evidence that he was the murderer, and now it's all confirmed."

"Yeah...I guess. He was actually a pretty nice guy, family had been in the Mafia for years, so when he tried to disassociate himself he got sucked right back in again. His smile could light up a room. Cared for his friends, too...Yujin called him Uncle Min'ook."

"Jooheon and Changkyun's daughter?"

"Right." Glancing over at Minhyuk's body (now partway covered by a white sheet), Hoseok sighed and frowned. "Well, I'm not going to question it. What's over is over. I really don't think there's much more to solve, here...our lives go on as normal."

There was something final and sad in his words, an undertone that Hyunwoo understood. In that moment, he knew he needed to do something. The older, taller boy's eyebrows knitted together, and in seconds he had crossed the room, enveloping Wonho in a backhug. "Hoseok...I thought that my actions were clear, but maybe not. Just because the case is over...I don't want this--" he gestured between the two of them, "to end. I'm not letting you walk away, like nothing. I've really come to depend on you, and...I think...I might be, falling in love with you." Hyunwoo bit his tongue, knowing he'd taken a risk, and this could go either way.

Wonho tipped his head back to rest on the detective's strong shoulder, and their fingers laced together. "Yeah, me neither," he confessed quietly. "I wanna keep seeing you...being with you."

"Then be my boyfriend," Hyunwoo begged. "There's nothing I'd love more."

A wide, white smile spread across the mobster's face. "Of course. Gladly." Wonho turned around and pulled the detective down to him for a shy kiss. When they broke, the younger melted at the little crinkly eyesmile he was met with.

But then Hyunwoo's face fell. He sucked in a big breath and murmured, "Oh."

"Hm? What's wrong?"

"Your boss is dead. So, doesn't that technically make you unemployed?"

"Well-yeah." Hoseok lifted an eyebrow in confusion. "But that's not a big deal, I can just find another job now."

"You don't have to, if you come work with me. You can be my personal assistant, like John Watson to Sherlock Holmes--and we can fuck on lab tables whenever you want--"

"Shut up, you're so cheesy, hyung." Their lips met again, and the younger chuckled, blushing a little. It had happened a few times while they were working in there alone, late at night, and Hoseok would easily admit that it was some of the most spectacular sex he'd ever had. "As long as you wear that sinful white coat. Without a shirt on underneath? God, I'm getting hard just thinking about that."

"I think that can be arranged.”

#Monsta X fanfiction #Monsta X scenario #Monsta X imagines #Monsta X #stanmonstax #Monsta X Minhyuk #Monsta X Lee Minhyuk #Hyungwon #Chae Hyungwon #Monsta X Hyungwon #Monsta X Chae Hyungwon #Monsta X Halloween fic exchange #fjkdfklds I HAD FUN WRITING THIS????#It's very dark and gritty and...intense....I hope ahhh

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