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hollyhomburg · 6 months

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Before I Leave You (Pt.64)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: “Take your time, it’s not like I’m dying over here or anything.” “Shut up Jimin you are not going to die.”

Tags: Angst, Blood, graphic depictions of violence, dead bodies, Gore, Maiming, violent acts described perpetrated by loved ones, near death experiences, near death experiences, No one dies, Jimin does not die, Hurt with just a little comfort, implied sexual content,

W/c: 8.6k

A/N: I'm sorry that this chapter is a little shorter than usual after such a long wait. i've been going through a rough patch™ which is why recently the updates have been 3 weeks apart instead of just 2 like usual. When i tell you the end of this chapter has a fucking twist to it that i love, you're not prepared!

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

“I shot Minnie.”

It takes you a breath for the words to sink in. Standing in the bathroom in the half-grey darkness golden hallway light streaming in through the open door. It’s strange how inside of your body you feel at that moment.

That frantic fever urgency of your pulse, your breath, your everything when traumatic things are about to happen and when they’re happening.

For a moment you’re keenly aware of every molecule of your body. The tacky-sweet feeling of slick drying between your thighs, the cold smoothness of the slate tile beneath your feet, the too-long press of your fingernails as you grip the bathroom countertop to keep from falling to the tile floor. Everything in feverish detail.

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, the light from Yoongi’s phone screen illuminates your face in blue. You look at the mirror, then down at your hands.

Minnie, a gun.

A bullet, Jin.

Your brain is whirling. Putting two and two together is like putting together a recipe. Only now you have the result and have to backtrack. How did you get here? Jin keeps talking, word vomiting down the line, and you miss a few sentences while you’re trying to put it together.

Butter, cream, sugar.

You, Jin, Jimin.

Jimin.

You think you might vomit tiramisu all over the bathroom floor.

You close your eyes, thinking hard while Jin talks. His words run over themselves with worry. “I discharged my weapon if we go to the hospital- they’ll- they’ll know and I don’t know if I can cover this up with just lies-”

“Is he dead?” Your voice is lethal in its quiet, so quiet that you think it might not go through the phone. Jin doesn’t hear it- too preoccupied with his own terror.

You close your eyes, quietly begging anything or anyone who might be listening. If god is going to take so much from him- the least she can do is give jimin this. One simple measly miracle is all you're asking for.

“Jin- tell me right the fuck now- Is Jimin dead?”

“Pup.” Jin sounds like he’s just been strangled. Like all the wind has just been knocked out of him. “Put Yoongi on the line.”

“No.” You're shaking, your heartbeat in your ears louder than your lofty hopes. Hand digging into the counter so hard that you feel it in your bones. “No, not until you tell me right now- is Minnie-”

“Hey pup.” Jimin’s voice is a quiet croak. You sag against the countertop and slide to the floor. It’s barely a weak whisper on the other side of the line. You’re glad it’s not a video call. You’re not sure you could handle seeing him if he sounds so raw. “Minnie- Minnie are you? does Jin?”

Does Jin know?

Jin must have taken back the phone because- “I need you to go get Yoongi. Now. We can’t be here any longer than necessary.” there's the muffled sound of shuffling, of hair grating against the speaker. "We're vulnerable here, I don't know if more people will come."

You move, leaving the bathroom and thundering up the steep stairs to the bedroom. There's the distant sound of Hoseok in the kitchen probably putting away the tiramisu. You head for the nest, rushing, falling to your knees in front of it, phone pinned between your shoulder and your ear.

“Yoongi isn’t here. He’s with Jungkook and Tae and Namjoon.”

“Hang up then and I’ll call Namjoon.” You peel back the nest skirt to get under it, where Jimin keeps his gun cases. They're there in the shadows, three of them black and plastic. A photocopy of his concealed carry license is taped to each on top. No one had been particularly happy about him storing them there (Namjoon especially) But now you’re glad to have them close on hand.

“No, not until you tell me where you are.”

“Pup this isn’t- you can’t-”

“Jin, please.”

You try the same code that Jimin has for his cellphone. You know it because you have a habit of going through his after your dates for some of the photos that he takes of you and Tae.

8-7-5-8.

The box clicks open and you roll your eyes. Alphas.

“Pup” you wait for him to say that he needs more help than you can offer, that carrying Minnie and keeping him alive is more than you can help with. You wait for him to say that you’re neither strong enough mentally nor physically to handle this.

But it doesn’t come. Jin’s tiny fraught sigh is there, but then-

“Alright.”

There are spots for five different handguns inside. Two missing vacant cuts into the foam. You take the smallest one, checking stock to make sure it's got bullets in it. You fumble with it, unsure and unused to this. You make sure the safety is on before you tuck it into your waistband.

“Send me your address. And if you need to- get rid of Jimin's gun- god only knows whats on that.” To Jin’s credit, he hardly splutters, hardly takes in another shaky breath.

“How do you know-” You descend the stairs slower. Screwing your eyes shut tight to keep from crying, leashing your voice into something gentle.

“Jin, Minnie is bleeding. You have more important things to worry about right now. We need to figure out how to keep Jimin alive and undiscovered.”

“You know-”

“Yes, I fucking know about Jimin, okay? We’re wasting time. Bye.”

You hang up on him. Your hands are still shaking and you spend a breath looking at them. You want to call Yoongi. Your body aching for your mate's touch, for how steady he makes you feel just by being there. the way he tucks your hair behind your ears, the way his hand is always hovering near the small of your back to guide you- to options that won't hurt and secrets that won't damage things.

You need your mate for this, already your pulse is hammering. The haze of a panic attack on the edge of your vision. One second foggy fear, the next heartbreaking clarity.

Maybe you know how this ends, you know why this is happening even if you try and ignore it. Maybe you realize just then what's going to happen. Not today but eventually, it turns you cold from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

You might not lie to the pack (lying by omission doesn't carry the same weight) but you lie to yourself often.

You will call Yoongi, you decide. You pick the phone back up and navigate towards Tae’s contact. Your thumb hovers between her name and Jungkook’s. You don’t know if you’ll be able to keep your voice steady calling her but Jungkook will almost certainly be able to tell something's wrong just from your tone alone. He's perceptive like that.

Before you can make the call something moves in your peripheries.

There is a dark figure in the doorway, silhouetted by the light coming from the front door and the bay window. It makes you startle but at second glance it’s just Hobi. You look down at him 3 steps up the stairs. Yoongi's phone in your hand and a gun at the small of your back, covered by the fluff of his sweatshirt.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask who you were talking on the phone with. He just tilts his in question, eyes teaming with that warm sort of playfulness.

You have a decision to make; let his opinion of the pack remain what it is or change it for good. In an irrevocable way that you won't be able to take back. It feels like too much change too quickly. Barely an hour ago he was telling you he loves you and now-

The thing about secrets is that they’re terribly hard to keep.

Hobi notices, because Hobi always notices when there’s some sort of change in you or a shift in your mood- call it a survival instinct if you won't call it love.

The set of your jaw is less pouty neediness and more leashed discomfort. Your expression is the same one you had when tae came out and you sat with them at the table and told them for you. You'd think that telling other people's secrets would be easier but it isn't.

Hobi knows your tells. What it looks like when you're about to play your hand. Ace's and all.

You descend the last few steps, each one thudding, making sure you're on the same level before you slowly wrap your arms around his waist. You do it slow even though you feel every second like a gunshot wound. Like every second could be Jimin’s last heartbeat.

(thump thump thump)

Pulling yourself in tight. His hands smooth up and down your back. You could call Yoongi but-

Hobi looks down at you, pecking your forehead. He smiles softly, his lips twisting into something like a grimace because you smell a little bit sour. Doesn't mean he's not going to kiss you but-

You wonder how many times he’s kissed you already, it's only been a day but you’re already losing track of how many, maybe 2 dozen now. His eyes flicker from your mouth to your eyes then back again.

“Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong? Or are you just going to pout at me until I go get Yoongi?”

You shake your head and close your eyes hard. "Don't get Yoongi."

Stealing yourself just a little and hold Hobi a little closer, a little harder. But there’s nothing you can say, no lie that you can tell that will make this better. No secret that you could confess either.

“Jin called and something bad has happened.”

You feel more than see the goosebumps on Hobi’s arms as you pull away, the visceral hard swallow as he looks at your face again, waits, expecting you to pull back say-“It’s a joke it’s nothing-“ But it doesn't come.

“You have two choices Hobi, you can go to the pizza shop, and hang out with Tae and Jungkook and Namjoon and Yoongi or-” Hobi searches your face for something he knows; the darkness in your eyes, the vague tremble in your arms around his waist. “Or you can help me and be scared. I kind of-”

I kind of need you

But Hobi should have agency in this and shouldn't just take this path because of you. After Yoongi, you've learned when and where to give people the choice to be dragged into things they'd be better off sidestepping. You don't say it but Hobi hears it all the same.

Hobi looks so earnest but asking this of him is no easy thing. It would be easier if you weren’t so keenly aware that you’re taking away something from him. You’re giving Hobi the choice you never got that Yoongi never got, and he'll choose the same path anyway.

He cups your face, skimming his thumb up and down your cheek.“I’m okay with being scared.” I'm okay with being scared so long as it's for you.

“This is serious, this is- you can’t ask questions until I have time to answer them, you just have to listen, understand?”

“Okay.” He nods, tousled hair fluffing, looking so innocent and eager to please that you almost tell him to just stay home.

But as much as you hate to admit it. If Jimin is injured, there’s a chance you and Jin might need a second pair of hands.

It’s a blur. Tugging on your shoes- the same ones Yoongi got you ages ago for your first date with Jimin and Tae. And when you stand, he’s holding out your jacket for you to step into. When you nuzzle into the collar there's the scent of vanilla there from where Jimin rubbed his nose to your throat when you were at the hospital. It doesn't seem possible that it was only yesterday. Everything is Jimin Jimin Jimin.

“Thank you,” you say, sounding vaguely hollow. He kisses the nape of your neck and you put your hand over it.

You point your feet in the direction of Hobi’s car and get in the driver's seat. Taking his keys from him because you need them, need to be the one who drives right now. Holding the steering wheel and controlling the acceleration. Pressing down as fast as a heartbeat.

Thumpthumpthump.

You pull away from the house with a screech hitting the curb with a bit of flying sparks. you don't even wait for it to warm up. Hobi’s hands are on the plastic console of the driver’s side, holding it to keep himself from bobbing before he's belted in. He looks over at you startled. But he doesn't ask you to slow down.

You keep your eyes on the road, blinking back tears. Controlling your emotions because you can’t drive through blurry eyes. Every inch, every tick of the needle, every second of pavement screeching tire means you're a second closer to jimin.

"Jin’s going to send you an address in a few seconds, and I need you to tell me which way to turn.”

Hobi looks at you and then looks at the phone. He doesn’t try to put on a playlist, he doesn’t try to do anything just stares at you and bobbs in his seat when you take a corner too fast.

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Nothing; you’re just driving like if we don’t get there in time, someone is going to die.”

~-~

Hoseok remains remarkably calm for the drive, barely saying anything except for the winces he lets out every time you do something risky with the car like take turns at 30 miles an hour or evade a break check by driving along the shoulder.

You start to pass by empty factory buildings. The wheels of his car thudding over cracks and dips in the road until it becomes dust and gravel and the smell of gasoline permeates the interior of the car. Questions building like the heat pumping from the vents.

But he did promise not to ask until later.

The fog covers everything like a balmy damp shadow, the snow going straight to sublimation. Pockets of old street lamp lights punctuate the darkness. Husks of metal rise like soldiers from the shadows. The sky burning rust orange from the distant lights of the city. Not a single star in sight.

Jin’s car is there; Hobi spots it. Its blue paint stands out through the overlap of grey brush as the car's lights roll over it. Jimin's car is another 50 feet away and buried in the darkness. Shiny and black like the husk of an insect.

You're about a mile away from where they must be doing demolition. A singular crane and floodlights shine across a narrow tributary casting everything; the river and the buildings, into a grey-slanted light.

You pull around in the yard in front of the largest and most intact building. You leave the keys in car tumbling out the second it glides to a stop.

“Stay here.” You say, but Hobi gets out anyway. He hasn’t noticed the gun tucked into your waistband until now. It makes his pulse tick higher when you take it out.

"Hobi, sink or swim?"

He looks down at the gun in your hand, "Swim." You shake your head like you're angry with yourself, not him but you don’t waste another second arguing. You head off following the disturbed dust and Hobi trails behind. Ducking from pocket of light to pocket of light.

He always wondered what happened to the gun you’d pointed at him that night you’d run away. That train ticket that still burns a hole in his pocket, a distraction maybe from larger questions he should have been asking.

The way you hold the gun is not practiced; and why should it be? The only one who knows how to handle guns in the pack is Jimin. But the way you walk; completely silent is heartbreakingly familiar. Hobi knows how and why you've learned to move quietly. It's almost a dance; the way you glide across the floor. The gun is an extension of your arms. Spreading and flaying like a wing. Pinky to trigger, your index finger balanced along the barrel.

Hobi had always assumed that it belonged to Yoongi. It was almost 6 months ago now, wasn’t it? Hobi had almost forgotten about it.

There are some things that you never forget. Trauma makes his bones quiet. He's not as good at walking silently as you are but if the crunch of his red Converse against the gravel bothers you; you say nothing.

Hobi feels like he should have asked more questions about it at the time, but now he just bites his lip and stays quiet. You'd promised. You'll tell him in time. Hobi trusts you.

That's the worst thing, isn't it? That Hobi trusts you.

Jimin is sitting in one of the puddles of light, leaning up against one of the containers on the ground floor. Alone. You let out a quiet bereft when you see him. You and Hobi pause in the doorway. Your hand on the gun goes slack

“Minnie!”

you run to him, tucking the gun back into your waistband and falling to your knees at his side. Fingers finding wet-dark fabric. Not water but blood.

Hobi stays there in the doorway, his pulse thudding through his ears, an odd sort of peace to him as he takes in the details. The blood that pools dark on the dusty floor.

Jimin’s half covered with dust himself. Something wooden and red in his lap. The blood that’s dripped down his shoulder gathering there. There is a dragged-through patch of dirt a few feet away, more blood, and Jin is nowhere to be found.

Minnie’s eyelashes flutter. “Alpha-” you say. Almost sobbing in relief that he's alive. Alive you can handle. Alive you can work with. You bend down, getting your hand on his cheek. "Hey- wake up for me a sec okay? We're gonna get you out of here-"

“Hey pup” he laughs half delirious with pain, wincing like making the sound hurts him. “You came to the party" he coughs. "Did you bring Tae?”

You pull back to look at him. “Tae?”

Jimin grins, eyes fluttering closed and his pretty face tipped up against the light. His lips have blood on him- and it looks like a disturbing imitation of Tae’s lipstick. The shadows she leaves on your mouth, on his.

“Yeah- wanna tell her I love her. Wanna tell her I’m sorry. Could you tell her for me?”

This is something Tied tourniquet tight around Jimin’s shoulder to keep him from bleeding out. something you didn't immediately notice. You stare down at the vest now- at the yellow patch letters slowly darkening with blood.

FBI, and then in smaller letters; Organized crime division, Dir. Kim.

Jin appears from around the corner, covered in dust and blood across his thighs, and his throat. So quick you barely have time to raise the gun and then put it down when you see it's not some stranger- someone sent from Yoongi's family to tie up loose ends.

Your hand tightens on the gun as you stare at Jin.

The sleeves of his button-down shirt are rolled up to his forearms and black nitrile gloves cover his hands; same as Jimin's- although one is ripped. His eyes flick from you to Hobi and he almost flinches.

“Jesus fucking Christ-” Jin looks back at you. “Did you have to tell Hobi?”

You bristle “I didn’t tell him anything yet. That’s how you properly protect people. Instead of you know-” The insult doesn’t make sense and neither does your anger. Jin is your pack omega but it doesn’t feel like it when you grab his lapel and shake him a little. He doesn’t move, You’re too slight to alter his course.

Hobi stumbles to your side, hand on your shoulder and Jin's. The pack omega almost flinches at the touch.

“Will both of you swallow your god damn pride and-”

The three of you fall silent when Jimin reaches up to grab your thigh.

Jimin's hand on your wrist goes vice-tight, and when you look down at him, he's more lucid. More there through the haze of pain and blood. "If anyone has any right to be mad at Jinnie- it's me."

You stare Jin down, and after a breath, he's the one who looks away from your glare, taking your hands from his coat and gently detangling them.

"Let's just get him to the fucking car." You bite out. And you get back on your knees to gently guide Jimin away from leaning up against the metal. Get your hand around Jimin’s good arm and start to try and tug him to his feet. His eyes follow you fever bright. “Tell Tae that yourself when we get you out of here.”

the three of you get jimin on his feet. Jin under his good shoulder and Hobi by his hip you there, grabbing Jimin's gun and the mask from the ground. Hobi almost trips on a piece of metal.

He’s being so good with this so- so normal. Making pregnant and stressed eye contact with you when you look at him but stay mostly silent.

Jimin’s car keys fall onto the dusty earth just as you get to Hobi’s. placing jimin gently into the backseat before you stop to pick them up.

“My car; they can’t find it here.” You glance at Jin, then Hobi, looking grey.

“Someone needs to be in the back of the car to stabilize you. you can’t just be flopping around when we drive to the-” You break off because oh this just got so much worse; there’s no way that Jimin’s going to be able to go to the hospital. Even with injuries like this.

You make eye contact with Jin again, and both of you realize at the same time, the mountain of evidence that must be inside it, but you're only the three of you- if you take Jimin's car and Hobi takes his and Jin takes his own- no one will be there to hold Minnie and keep him stable. But who knows when you'll have a chance to come back and get Jimin's car.

If the authorities find his car and the body still inside that building. There's no shortage of what they might be able to convict Jimin for. If there was ever a time that you needed another person it would be right now. You should have called Yoongi.

You look up at Jin, “Get rid of it, we just have to-”

“The river-” You stand there, two opposite sides of the same coin both grinning because it's a good plan.

“If we sink it, they’ll never find it.”

A couple of miles away where the floodlights shine, they must knock over something large because you hear the boom and feel the tremble in the earth.

You take everything out of the car first, throwing it into the front seat of Hobi's car. Hobi tries not to think about the items too hard. The sniper rifle, the 3 bulletproof vests, or the ski mask. There's a variety of other equipment underneath the false bottom, arranged perfectly, everything has its spot. An empty tranquilizer gun. Ropes and black trash bags.

The three of you work like a polished team. Moving the car as close as you can to the water Near an old dry dock that flooded, where the soil turns soft and spongy.

It’s hard to push even though you put the car in neutral. the three of you still have to put all your weight into it. Jimin waits in Hobi’s car, parked on the edge. Watching your sluggish procession.

“Take your time, it’s not like I’m dying over here or anything.”

“Shut up you are not going to die” You snap. The line of the doorframe digs into your shoulder as you push with all your might, putting all of your anger and betrayal behind it because it has nowhere to go otherwise.

Jimin really isn’t helping. Hand pressed over his bullet wound, blood slowly dripping from between his fingers.

Your feet fight against the muck, sliding through it, cold and gross around your ankles. Water soaks your socks.

“Seriously I’m bleeding all over the interior. gonna have to get it detailed after i'm gone.” Hobi picks his head up from the other side, grinning at you. You think it’s the first time you’ve even felt a ghost of a smile grace your face since you got the call. He has no idea how much you need that smile.

“It’s red, won’t stain. Don't worry minnie.”

“Your concern for me is glowing.” He's smiling but Jimin’s hand is knuckle-tight over his shoulder.

“Shut up.” you grind out.

Once you get going downhill it’s easy to push the car, down down down until you hit the muck, knee-deep in the fowl-smelling stuff. You walk with it into the icy water. Hobi’s sweatshirt is so big on you and it billows around you in the brackish water. Weighing you down like an anchor in a storm. You guide the car and the cold water is up to your waist. The car thuds and then shudders, bubbling as you get it deeper and deeper.

"That should be good. Come on."

You think you’re fine until you try to pull away from the side of the car and can’t.

Hobi is already cutting through the water back towards the shore, his back to you. You can’t move, and the car is sinking inch by inch. Slowly dragging you along with it. Some corner of your sweatshirt snagged on the doorframe or hooked.

Your hands move scrabbling. Trying to find the spot at your hip where you’re caught. But you can’t see, the water is so dark you can't even see your hands below the surface. Is it terror or just the cold that makes your hands so uncooperative?

You haven’t even had time to cry out before there is a body behind you, hand closing around the spot where you’re snagged under the water, ripping the fabric with strong hands.

Jin’s hands don’t leave you once he’s untangled you, grabbing your hips and dragging you back, back through the mud and up to the embankment. His hand on the back of your neck, “I’ve got you pup, you’re okay, you’re fine.”

Hobi’s already standing up there, soaking wet too. The dust pills on your pant legs and behind you, the car gives one last gurgle. Disappearing for good.

In the dusty darkness, you look at Jin. His gaunt face, soaked with muck like you are. The ends of his hair clumped together, muddy. You blink up at him and he blinks down at you, water in his eyes.

Jimin and Hobi wait, watching you both stand there. Suddenly the gun in your waistband feels too heavy to carry any longer.

Jin closes his eyes, screwing them shut tight like he's waiting for you to shove him again. “Before you yell at me, you should know that Yoongi already knows, about me being an FBI agent. He's known since the beginning."

there is a moment of silence where hobi looks from you to jin. But then You collide with Jin burying your face in the front of his shirt. He swallows past the lump in his throat. One bloody hand comes up to touch your hair and cradle the back of your head.

“Pup- we don’t have time, we have to go. Minnie-” You pull back, eyes wet.

“Alright- alright- just- we’ll meet you at home?”

Jin turns to Hobi, nodding. Hoseok stoops, putting Jimin's legs in the back of the car, they're shaking. All of Jimin is shaking. His body is in shock from losing so much blood and from the cold.

“Don’t speed, I’ll be right behind you. Don’t give anyone a reason to pull you over.”

~-~

(Namjoon.)

The inside of the pizza parlor is balmy with the smell of cooking dough, garlic, parmesan cheese, and Jungkook's happy sunny scent. So at odds with the cold outside.

Namjoon watches Tae and Jungkook giggle and act like pups. Heart clenching the way it always does when he looks at the pack. They smell like roses and honey, like spring days far away now in winter but Namjoon can already feel the spring warmth thawing his tiredness left over from work. A haze to the edge of his vision like he's feeling bumble-bee fluff and sucking honey from the air.

Hope is hot and necessary like sunlight, and Namjoon has a whole lot of it for the future right now. and good for him honestly- it's the last easy breathes he's going to have for a good long while.

He can't believe it. You and Hobi. His body gives an involuntary happy shiver.

Yoongi catches it and raises a knowing eyebrow.

The pack is willing to wait here and give you and Hobi a little more time to sort things out. They've given you hours, they'll give maybe one more. They've already taken Tae and Jungkook out for ice cream. Dessert before dinner has both of them sugar high and hyper.

The pizza parlor is mostly empty- there are no glares or looks as they laugh loud and try to imitate a dance, jungkook's phone propped up on a napkin holder.

Namjoon and yoongi don't join in, they just stare at each other. Yoongi looks like he might be a little bit in shock, the scent blooming every few seconds, sweet chocolate cocoa when he thinks of it, and salty worry when he reaches over to check Tae's phone- just to see if you've texted.

Namjoon knows, and so does Jungkook because Jungkook knows everything.

“I can’t believe they actually-” Jungkook snorts, this isn’t the first time Yoongi’s repeated those words, he’s been muttering it under his breath every few minutes for the last few hours, mostly to himself. Jungkook indulges him this time.

“I know- I thought they’d be emotionally constipated for at least another month.”

Jungkook’s hand is nearly permanently glued to the back of Yoongi’s neck, squeezing reassuringly every few seconds. Even as he and Tae giggle and fall into each other, watching back their video on Tae’s phone. Her sparkly phone case catches the light, and little bits of glitter fall and trickle slowly just like the snow falling outside.

Namjoon's thoughts slush slowly.

Namjoon feels settled down to his bones, in that deep-seated alpha way that he’s not sure he’d be able to articulate even if he tried. Nesting tonight is gonna hit so fucking well. Namjoon is going to scent both you and Hobi until he can feel the sex and pleasure on his teeth and tongue, might just need to taste your arousal for himself. He'll be sweet about it and give you a little wiggle room just to put you back in your places. He feels half feral wanting it already. If he's not careful a scenting like that might send Hobi into rut or you into heat.

Namjoon's almost trembling at the idea of it.

God fucking damn it, he's so in love it hurts a little. He’s sure that Yoongi feels the same deep calmness, the sense of rightness, thinking about you and Hobi.

Yoongi’s lopsided grin says It finally fucking happened. Namjoon’s dimpled smile says, I know, I’m surprised we didn’t have to orchestrate it. They don’t have to say it, the soft words would be swallowed up under the music playing over the loudspeaker (the idol group that Jimin guards- their newest hit).

Their knees are nested between each other’s on the too-small table and too-small seats. Namjoon’s big palm on Yoongi’s knee all tight. His hand over the pack alphas, tangling and playing together in a way that Jin would call flirting without words and Tae might call poetic.

The pack took one car to the pizza place, Namjoon's, gathering snow outside. Probably a bad move honestly because Namjoon is on call. The surgery this morning went off without a hitch, clipping aneurysms on a middle-aged alpha usually goes off without a hitch because Namjoon is quite good at his job. If anything happens post-op Namjoon will have to leave them stranded here.

As Namjoon watches something crosses Yoongi’s face that looks a bit like confusion, his hand leaves Namjoon’s to settle on his hip. Eyebrows pulling together.

Huh? Is it the mating mark?

Their food has just arrived, cauliflower pizza for Jungkook, a messy calzone for Yoongi, and his own meat-filled slice when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Namjoon smiles seeing Hobi’s contact, and answers it. It’s you on the line when he picks up.

“Whatever you do, don’t put me on speaker. Don’t react. Just go somewhere where you won’t be overheard by anyone.” Namjoon's smile falls instantly.

Something about your tone has goosebumps rising on his arms. inexplicable, whether it's instincts or just the fact that Namjoon knows your voice and has never heard you sound like this that tips him off he's not sure.

You’re in the back of Hobi’s car, Jimin sprawled across your lap, your fingers stroking down his cheek, your other hand putting pressure on his bullet wound. Jimin lets out these little hiccupping breaths and in the front seat, Hobi’s eyes flick to the two of you. Your pause your call to soothe him, letting him inhale big settling breaths of your scent. Nose and mouth pressed hard to your wrist. Teeth biting down because Jimin needs something to muffle his pained growl.

"Just hold on Minnie, I know it hurts. We’re almost back to the house."

Namjoon hears it, and his whole body goes cold.

You can say many things about the pack, about pack alphas and pack omegas, but listening goes both ways. Namjoon would never dream of disobeying you when you talk like this. Namjoon stands and walks to the door mechanically. Only when he’s outside, cold air swirling around him, does he speak.

“What’s wrong?”

“Something’s happened," Namjoon closes his eyes "-and I need you not to tell the others. I need you to come home and leave Jungkook and Tae. Jimin's hurt and we need you.”

Namjoon feels the moment the tense breath in his chest sticks there and he realizes you’re not joking. Jungkook looks up, furrowing his eyebrows at Namjoon in the dark window. The snowflakes falling catch the lamplight around him, dotting his red sweatshirt like the reverse of blood on snow.

There’s a pause and then, “There’s a lot you don’t know, but I need you to hurry.”

Namjoon nods then pauses when he realizes you can’t see. He’s not sure he’s ever heard you sound so serious.

“Do you understand why I’m asking you this Namjoon?”

Namjoon has always been an honest alpha, even when it doesn’t stroke his ego. “No.”

“Because if Tae sees what’s happening, she’s going to need someone to comfort her, and everyone needs to be focused on mini right now.” Your voice trembles, breaking. Below you, Jimin smiles, leaning into your arm. Babbling little and delirious from pain and blood loss.

“Love you so much Tae- wanna be your mate- wanna marry you too if y/n lets me- wanna have your pups."

"Jimin. You are an alpha. You can't get pregnant." Hobi says dryly from the driver's seat, making a very careful left turn that's so slow that it garners a honk from the people behind him.

"But Tae could at least try-"

You close your eyes against the lights of the highway, and across your lap you feel wet soaking into your pant legs. You don't look down, You know it’s blood. It’s so warm, spilling across your knees like sunshine. Bubbling up with every heartbeat.

You don’t know how much more blood Jimin can lose before it’s critical, which is why you need Namjoon.

“-And if Jungkook finds out the stress could make him have a seizure.”

Namjoon is silent on the other end of the line. Completely quiet. Frozen on the sidewalk outside of the pizza place. Above him, the pastel blue pizzeria sign buzzes and flickers. Namjoon inhales the cold air, his exhale coming out warm and steamy visible. When he turns to look inside Yoongi is already staring.

Namjoon must look devastated because Yoongi shoots to his feet. Saying something to the others before he heads out after Namjoon. The bell clinging until he's right there reaching for the phone.

“I’ll see you at home.” You shut your eyes tight. “Bring Yoongi too. I need him.”

The phone in Namjoon’s hands buzzes and when he looks the call has disconnected.

~-~

It's a good thing that most of the snow has melted off or else you’d have a harder time concealing Jimin’s bleeding form as you pull into the driveway. You’re barely outside for a handful of seconds. No curtains move in the shuttered windows of your neighbors. No one is in the cul-de-sac, not even Noodle is waiting for you on the rock wall.

There is no red trail in the snow, just a few drops that land on the dark slate walkway that you’ll clean up before morning. The porch light is off and Your hand leaves a dark imprint on the railing as you rush to open the door for Jin and Hobi, supporting Jimin between the two of them.

But the door opens before you can get to it.

"Joonie!” Jimin's tone drips with false cheer, grinning at the pack alpha and your mate standing just inside the house. As Jin and hobi half drag and half carry Jimin inside and out of sight. Blood dripps down the side of his face from his temple to his chin.

“Holy fuck” your mate mutters. Out of Jin and Hobi and you- you easily have the most blood on yourself. Your pants are soaked through with it and muck from the river, even your hair feels wet and sticky. You must certainly look like a sight, like something out of a nightmare or a bad memory- yoongi can take his pick.

(In truth, the sight of you blood soaked brings up only one other night in yoongi's memory; a night just as tense and pain filled as this. the night you killed Geumjae. This won't be the last time Yoongi sees you soaked in blood either. But at least next time the blood you'll wear won't be the packs and you'll be wearing it as a king and not a pawn).

The drive must have truly taken a toll on him because the second the door closes behind you Jimin’s knees give out and his eyes roll back, passing out as the last bit of energy vanishes from his body. Hobi almost falls with him, but Namjoon and Yoongi are quick to come to his aid.

“Quick- the table.”

Yoongi clears the dining room table with a simple swipe of his hands, sending the bowl of tangerines scattering, rolling like many mini suns across the hardwood floor. They put him down as gently as they can, but Jimin's a puppet with his strings cut. Namjoon swoops in, more trained than any of you, grabbing Jimin’s ankles and holding them up above his heart.

"Come on- Minnie- come on " Namjoon reaches over to tap Jimin’s cheek, gentle once and harder the second time, more of a true slap. Jimin gasps awake, but he’s only half conscious. It’s twilight, his eyelashes fluttering face pale. Mumbling Tae's name over and over again.

"Jin, hold his legs up for me- here"

You’ve never seen Namjoon move so mechanically, so professionally. He's already wearing sterile gloves. His black doctor’s bag cracked open and full of gauze and other medical paraphernalia. The skin around the bullet wound is pinched with blood. Gushing fresh as Namjoon cuts away as much of the tourniquet as he dares with a pair of kitchen shears.

Jimin’s head lolls to the side.

Namjoon lets out a single wet noise. You haven’t heard him cry in so long, you don’t realize that’s what it is until you look at his face.

Your mate’s face is pale and gaunt as he looks at you over the dining room table. “Didn’t you tell him anything?”

“No- I wasn’t sure what to say, I-” Yoongi’s eyes flicker down to Minnie, then up at Jin who looks like he might be about to pass out himself. Holding himself away.

“Who shot him? Did someone corner you? Jin-”

Jin lifts his chin about to confess but before he can Namjoon snaps “Everyone needs to be quiet- please.”

Namjoon places his stethoscope oh so gently to jimin's skin Even the slight action makes Jimin’s face twist in pain. The whole pack is quiet and still, like statues.

The moment passes syrup slow, And Namjoon moves his stethoscope an inch to the left, then the right. Only then does he toss it down onto the floor. Grabbing a sterile towel from his medicine bag and presses it hard over the bullet wound. Closing his eyes and grimacing before he stuffs it, fingers and all into the bullet wound.

Jimin jerks violently, howling, nearly thrashing in pain if it weren’t for Namjoon and Yoongi and you holding him down. He flails, hitting you in the face knocking you back.

Hobi catches you before you fall. “I’m fine, it’s okay just- help them hold Minnie" your hand over your hot cheek. It will probably bruise- but you don't even care as you watch as Namjoon pulls himself onto the kitchen table, putting his full body weight over the bullet wound to try and stem the bleeding.

“He needs a hospital. We need to pack it and then take him there. He’s lost too much blood.”

"We can’t- all bullet wounds need to be mandated reported.”

It’s not all that large of a hole to be honest. Maybe a finger with on the back side and a little smaller at Jimin's front because Jin shot Jimin at such close range. It’s a threw and threw. Even though Namjoon packed the front his back still leaks steadily.

“But Jimin will live, whatever’s going on-” Namjoon shares a glace with Yoongi Jin, then you- and you watch as it dawns on him. “wait- You do know what’s going on, theres something you're not telling me.”

It's accusatory but you nod while Jin and Yoongi stay placid. Namjoon looks once at Jin again then at you, deciding who he trusts more to correctly gauge the odds.

Namjoon looks at you, waiting.

“If the wrong people find out Jiminie is- that he’s-” you pause, and Jimin grimaces, there is blood on his teeth, in his mouth. “It might not just be him hurt by the end of it.”

“But we can’t just let him die.”

Hobi just stands by the couch, your nest just tousled as you’d left it what feels like a lifetime ago. for the first time that night- hobi breaks.

"Oh my god Jimin's going to die-"

Jin's hands are in his hair, yanking, "Tae is going to kill me-"

“Shut up, no one is dying yet. If he dies on us I’ll kill him myself.” you scoff, holding Jimin’s wrist, his hand. “I won’t even bother with a gun I’ll just..."

You fall silent with a sudden intake of breath. Yoongi's head whips in your direction. Jin too looks up from where he was just bowed, realization lighting his eyes up bright.

The three of you share a look and for a second, the only sound is Jimin's blood dripping. A little faster with every heartbeat. Down the leg of the kitchen table onto the floor in red rivulets.

Drip drip drip.

(What you don’t know about Jin and Yoongi’s tentative agreement is that even though they know about each other- they've still been on either side of this. They’ve never worked with each other, never shared querying glances like this. It's a special secret language that thieves and secret killers share.)

Yoongi follows your line of sight to the kitchen. The knives sit sheathed in the knife block. The same ones that he bought Jin as a fancy courting present years ago. The same one's Yoongi sharpens before he cuts the meat that the pack eats for samgyeopsal and bulgogi and shabushabu.

A sharp cut is an easy cut to fix, unlike a blown-apart cavernous bullet wound.

“No.” Is your first reaction. Even though it was your idea. “It’s too dangerous.”

"It won't work." is Jin's response. Namjoon glances from you to him. He hasn't yet realized what you're talking about. doesn't posess the same finess for bloodshed that the three of you do (the three of you could conquer the world, you just haven't' realized it yet)

"It will work." Yoongi straightens. there are whispers of darkness on yoongi's face. a childhood he doesn't talk about in his eyes. a childhood filled of blood and less kindness than you'd think; for it to have made a man like yoongi; who knows how to be gentle because he's felt every kind of unplesantness there is.

"I've seen it done before. A long time ago but still- it works."

“What,” Namjoon snaps. "Are you guys fucking talking about?"

“There’s another option.” Yoongi’s hands are on Jimin, holding his wrists down. his other hand tucking his hair behind his ears and kissing his bloody cheek. His hands are getting colder and there isn’t much time. He’s quiet for a moment, lips pressed to jimin's skin, before he looks up. None of you want to say what you’re thinking.

“A good stab wound with a larger knife, through and through will disguise the bullet wound. It will stop him from bleeding any more. No one will know that Jimin was shot and we can take him to the hospital."

Namjoon’s scent is sour, sour, and acrid and it makes Jimin arch in pain, face twisted. He still doesn't understand why no one must know that Jimin was shot. Still doesn't understand that it was Jin who shot him. He'll learn later over hospital coffee but for now, he misses the blood-soaked and cut up FBI vest laying in a heap on your dining room floor. No yellow left on it- just red.

“Oh, absolutely not. I’m not letting anyone stab anybody."

Jimin’s head lolls on the table. His mumbled words fall on deaf ears. “Stab away….might as well…already stabbed through the fucking heart from Tae" (how could Cupid be so cruel?)

"Joonie look at me." Your hand is on Namjoon’s arm, his shoulder, the back of his neck and he rounds on you. Alpha aggression striking before Namjoon can reign in his instincts. He almost snaps his teeth at you. You don't react at the alpha baring his teeth in your face because underneath it all is the panic of a child, a pup who's terrified he's about to lose his family (a sinking feeling in his gut that says maybe, he already has.)

You understand, you know what it's like to feel that way.

Your voice is so calm and gentle. “Namjoon- you just have to trust me. If we take Jimin to the hospital and if they have a reason to take his fingerprints. There is a very good chance Minnie will go to prison. That I will go to prison- that Yoongi will too.”

Jin blinks, eyelashes fluttering. And Namjoon is silent, Hobi's silent too. All of them watching you. Your hands are steady, and your eyes are clear. The clearest they've ever seen.

“There is a lot we haven’t told you. But you need to trust me.”

It’s then that he spots it. Yoongi’s tone is dark as he yanks the wooden mask out of Hoseok's hands. Yoongi would know those masks anywhere; the one that the family gives its employees. This specific type is to delineate a non-relative. The specific kind is the mask that killers wear.

“Where the fuck did you get this?”

You look up at him, “it’s Minnie’s.”

Yoongi’s chest heaves, breath coming quick and fast. “No, it’s not- it can’t be.”

Namjoon’s teeth look particularly sharp when he snaps. “Does anyone but me give a fuck about Jimin right now? Or do you guys only want to pretend that you do?” The rest of the pack watches Namjoon as he ties a new tourniquet. A better one. he can't meet your eyes. quiet and furious as he pulls the knot tight.

“There are too many ligaments in Jimin’s arm, you could cripple him.”

“What other choice do we have?"

“So thats it?” your voice is a shred past hysterical, “we just take him to the hospital and let him go to jail, or let him bleed out and die here?”

The four of you stand over Jimin, on the kitchen table, the spot where you’ve eaten dinner and broken bread and loved each other for the last year. A place of nourishment and love now a place of pain and terror.

You walk three strides to the kitchen and grab the largest steak knife from the kitchen block. Your eyes dark and determined as you stare them down.

"I'll do it if you won't! I'm not letting Jimin go to prison!" you blink tears out of your eyes and there is a moment of silence, a moment where everyone just looks at you.

There is a warm body at your back, a strong chest and long arms that you know circling your waist to pull you back against them. Rubbing soft down your stomach as another comes up to guide your hand. long fingers that curl around your small fist. Grabbing the knife and guiding it, syrup slow out of your grasp.

"There we go" hobi says, words whisper soft.

It's like his words break the spell. “Give me that thing before you hurt yourself.” namjoon snaps.

Namjoon holds the knife and everyone watches as he walks to the pack's liquor cabinet. grabbing the nearest highest proof bottle that he can find and pouring it over the kitchen blade.

“If anyone’s going to do it, it should be me, because I know where Jimin’s joint is.” The pack nods, agreeing. Scattering.

You toss a rag to Jin. “Wipe the gunshot residue from your hands before we get to the hospital. Wipe Jimin’s too while you’re at it. Just in case.”

Namjoon holds the knife in the kitchen. You all have some amount of Jimin’s blood on you and he blinks from the table lucid.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon asks, staring down at Jimin, knife in his hand. “Go outside and warm up the car. You’ll drive because you have the steadiest hands besides me.”

You and Jin and Hobi are silent, everyone just watches namjoon for a second. Yoongi hesitates, turning back in the doorway. "Do it from behind that way Jimin can say he didn't see who stabbed him."

Namjoon nods, looking down.

There is Jimin’s blood on the doorknob and the floor. You wonder who’s going to clean it up.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon asks, and your mate starts, running out the door, leaving it open so that the cold can slip in. Namjoon’s hand tightens on the knife.

Jimin grins up at him from the table, eyelashes fluttering.

"Do it."

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 Every little bit of encouragement helps <3

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

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Notes:

the line "A faceless god, if you’re going to take so much from him- the least you can do is give me this." is a call back to a line all the way in the beginning of the series where tae writes "the least you could have done was leave me whole" about yoongi.

the beginning feels a little drawn out but honestly i feel like it's such a traumatizing moment that it makes sense. the beginning was one of those cases that i read it so many times i can't tell if its ass or gas- so it's up for you to decide. i like the later parts of the chapter a lot better.

All things said, hobi is taking this incredibly well.

I was such a sleepy bunny editing this this morning! i'm sorry if there are more errors than usual.

ooh they fighting~ this might be a little bit of a /oh shit/ confession- but i greatly belived that the m/c would have killed jin had she thought that he was actually trying to kill jimin for being involved with the mafia like- one wrong move on his part and she might have shot him. they're gonna forget about it and nothing will change between them but god- that moment where he comes around the corner could have gone so bad if she was a little more trigger happy.

honestly i started to hate this chapter halfway through editing it, if there was ever one that i needed you to show love to its this one god 😮‍💨 i never thought i'd feel out of practice writing this sort of thing.

are the funny parts out of place? do they break up the terror too much or just the right amount?

I cannot take credit for the methodology behind how they hide jimin's bullet wound. i will confess this is copied from an episode of Elementary- ie the american version of sherlock. i tried to look it up if you could possibly conceal bullet wounds this way and didn't find anything so you're just gonna have to trust me.

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ippipo · 4 months

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sukuna ryomen x reader - mafia au? idk but here's sum

Sukuna is the type to buy you expensive presents literally every week. He was a spend-thrift and it was batshit crazy how careless he was with money when it came to you. So you decided to take the matter into your own hands.

You told Sukuna that you'll tear every single clothing he buys you if he doesn't listen to you, to which he casually shrugged and said, "I could just buy you more." After many blackmailing attempts (who are you kidding? this man gets death threats and is attacked at least once every month), you decided to use your ace card.

You didn't talk to him for an entire day. It was pretty childish considering the fact that he was buying stuff only for you, but you recently heard that one of the three powerful mafia groups had gone bankrupt rendering them useless. It scared you because Sukuna's money saving ability was shit despite being the richest mafia ever.

After a few painful hours of knocking on your door, Sukuna was angry and punched a hole into the hard wood. Of course it didn't work, his knuckles started to hurt. That didn't matter to him though, he just wanted to know why you were ignoring him.

"Y/N.." he called out weakly, his voice bleeding with sadness. He had a bad day and he just wanted to be around you. Hearing his pitiful voice, your heart clenched. C'mon, it's not everyday you have one of the strongest people weak on their knees, begging. Seems like you were just as sadistic as the greatest mafia don himself.

You slowly unlocked the door and peered into his eyes, your eyes bearing rigidity that made his cock hard. You grabbed his hand and brought him to your shared bed, pushing him onto it and falling on him, earning a grunt.

You softly dragged your fingers on his palm, sometimes writing his name, sometimes writing your name. He pushed you off to the side gently and got up to undress himself down to just his boxers. He got on to the bed and grabbed you aggressively by your shoulder, pulling you back on top of him, your rightful position.

You bit his shoulder playfully as a payback for manhandling you to which he replied with a kiss on your forehead. "Say, why do you want me to stop buying you things so bad?" He questioned, his voice booming in the quietness of your room.

"Do you want me to tell you the truth?" You asked. "You are to answer my question, not question me back." He flicked your forehead, earning an 'ouch'. "You won't leave me after this?" You asked, ignoring his statement earlier. He looked at you with a deadpan expression.

"Darling, you fucking dumb bitch, I saw you mixing egg yolks with strawberry jam to make a volcano and I'm still with you." He stated. You muttered 'reasonable' before clearing your throat, preparing yourself for something you thought would embarrass you.

"Okay. So, um-" "Get to the point." He said impatiently. "Fine. The clothes you're getting me are the wrong size, they're smaller and I think I grew bigger than last time. I feel weird about myself because they used to fit me but now they're a little tight and uncomfortable and I feel insecure." You said without a break.

"W-" "And I heard some maids saying that three of your enemy gangs went bankrupt and I'm scared you'll waste all your money on things that I won't even use." You added. "First off, how dare you interrupt me." He said and paused.

"Secondly, what do you mean you feel insecure? If anything, I'm the one who was supposed to buy you clothes that fit you, not the ones smaller, it's my fault. And darling, you're a fucking goddess, I don't care if you got bigger, you look just fine to me." He pulled both your cheeks with his fingers and slapped them softly.

"Stop doing tha-" "I didn't marry you for something as stupid as looks, I married you because you're my weird cumslut who can't go a day without dick, plus, you're my wife, no way am I letting something so absurd bother you." He said with a smirk. You slapped his bare chest because of his choice of words, blushing profusely.

"Thirdly, who do you think made them go bankrupt?" You remained silent at that, assured and relieved. "So...you still like me?" You asked. He smacked your cheek and choked you, gently may I add. "Stop asking me stupid questions." He grumbled.

You giggled when his thumb ghosts over your neck, tickling you while his hand was around it. You take his hand that was around your neck and press kisses on his knuckles. He brought his hand to his lips and kissed the spots you kissed, a happy glint in his eye, as if you both actually kissed.

Sukuna doesn't look like it, but he is just happy if you were near him. Your presence is more than enough, a blessing, in fact. To him, you're not a prize, you're a gift, you're a prank gone right, you're his world. Aggressively, he loved you, he cherished you and he will keep on doing it till his last breath.

"I'm still offended you slapped me." You said, turning away when he tried to kiss you. He grabbed your chin and forcefully made you look towards him, to which you didn't object. He gently kissed your lips, capturing your heart and soul within a span of seconds.

A wordless assurance. He needed that to make sure he didn't actually hurt you, because he meant to slap softly, playfully, with pure love, not the kind of slap he was more acquainted with, thanks to his parents (who were dead by the way).

"It's just that..." You began, grabbing his attention though it was already on you. "I don't like the way I look?" It was more of a question than a confession, you were unsure of yourself. There were times you liked the way you looked, there were times you absolutely despised yourself.

It was complicated, your relationship with your body. When you thought you looked good, you didn't. When you thought you didn't look good, you didn't.

It was tough, especially when you're dating someone conventionally attractive. It makes you feel unworthy. That maybe someday he would find someone else. Maybe someone who looks prettier, has both, beauty and brawns.

Even though he treats you like a princess, showering you with his passionate fancy love, you still felt that he could do better. Choose someone better. That thought makes you feel like someone had cut your head and poured vomit inside you, bleaching your organs with vomit, an unshakeable feeling.

You didn't need to say a word though. Sukuna knew what you were thinking. Every thought, every whisper and every breath of yours was familiar to him. It was surprising how well he knew you. Perfect hands wrapped around a perfect waist, your waist. He didn't care how big it was.

He kissed you, aggressively. That's what you called your relationship, aggressive love, which was quite contrary to how he treated you because there was always a hidden gentleness under his aggressiveness. He knew where to draw the line though.

"I don't know why you don't want to believe me, so I might just have to fuck it into you." It was funny how he said it in a very serious tone, he was being serious. "Ryo, I was at a stupid party before coming home and my legs are dead from standing so much." You whined.

"Who says you have to work now? Let me handle your body." He whispered, licking a stripe on the back of your ear. A shiver of pleasure ran down your body, right to your cunt. Oh boy did you know what a night it was going to be.

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justwritedreams · 10 months

Text

Yours | Doyoung

Husband!Doyoung x Reader, mafia au! Word count: 2281 Genre: smut. Warning: Rough sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), no protection (don't do this at home), praising, riding, cum eating, swearing, like pretty explicit words, nicknames (angel, baby girl), jealous Doyoung, Johnny being a little sassy, me putting a ridiculous gang name. MINORS DNI!!! THIS IS A 18+ STORY Author: Maari Note: Soooo hehe this is really filthy and I'm proud of it!! Since you wanted a smut with a jealous doyoung so badly, I decided to combine all these requests into one. So enjoy! Requests: can i ask for nct husband!doyoung + jealous, nct doyoung + praising, doyoung x praising x riding, jealous!doyoung smut

⪢ NCT Masterlist

You weren't stupid.

Your husband's business dinner had only one purpose, intimidation and your company mitigated that a bit, but the glances Johnny cast at your bust was dangerous. Mainly because your husband had also noticed, after all he wouldn't have gripped your waist so tightly if he hadn't noticed.

And the more ironic Johnny was, the more your husband clenched his jaw and laughed sarcastically.

While you were quiet, not afraid to say something, but because there would be nothing you could do to convince Johnny to go over to the side of the Neo gang.

Deep down you knew that Johnny was doing that to try to convince himself that it wasn't the best option, but he wasn't helping Doyoung to stay calm at all. And it made it worse when Johnny brought his attention to you.

"I'll come to your side if I have a beauty like that waiting for me." he said, looking straight at you.

Your response was to take a deep breath and look away at your husband. If Doyoung could kill Johnny with just his eyes, he would. Because the way he was staring at the man sitting across from him was like he could torture him, and in a way he could.

"Be careful if you want to keep your head on your neck." Doyoung spoke softly but in such an intimidating way that you felt every hair on your body stand on end. After that, dinner got even more tense. If Doyoung didn't keep his hand on your waist, he certainly had it on your thigh. Though you should have been scared of him, because seeing him mad wasn't the best thing in the world, the heat his hand radiated on your bare thigh might have sent a few shivers up your spine. And well, remembering what those hands, but specifically those fingers, were capable of doing to you was making you a little dizzy. It wasn't just the wine.

He was so close, if he went up a few more inches...

But Doyoung's hand stayed there, just squeezing your exposed skin, the whole dinner as if it was some kind of torture. Until finally he and Johnny agreed on something you didn't even pay attention to. And neither could you, because even looking at Johnny was a dangerous game you weren't going to fall for.

You were past the stage of being the bad girl. Your black wedding ring on your finger indicated as much. But Johnny wasn't done with the teasing yet, he made a move to say goodbye to you with a hug but Doyoung, seeing his intentions, pulled you by the waist and positioned his body in front of you in a protective and possessive way. Making Johnny laugh. “Don't worry, I don't intend to steal your woman.” “My wife. Remember that next time." Johnny raised his hands in surrender and you just took your hand to your husband's arm that was holding you by the waist, in a weak and failed attempt to make him calm down.

The way to the car and the journey to your house was in pure silence except for Doyoung's heavy breathing, you could see his fingertips turning white from how tightly he held the steering wheel and however much you wanted to say or do something to help him, you knew that at that moment the best thing to do was just remain silent.

His eyes scanned the street as if his thoughts were wandering on the myriad ways to torture Johnny. When you arrived and he opened the door for you, standing behind your body, you only managed to take a deep breath before Doyoung dropped the keys on any piece of furniture in the room, grabbed the back of your neck and made you turn so that the lips collided. The kiss was hurried and careless, his fingers tangled in the strands of your hair as his tongue thirstily sought yours. Doyoung tasted like wine but that wasn't the only thing that intoxicated you, it was the way his other hand held your waist with possession as he brought his body close to yours and felt the heat. He then abandoned your lips, trailing wet kisses down your cheek, jaw and neck. Where he didn't stop at just kisses, with goose bumps all over your skin and your head tilted to the side giving him full access, Doyoung preoccupied himself with sucking, biting and licking your skin. Every tiny inch he could mark and feel. Feeling his furious teeth against your skin was enough for you to start moaning low and grinding your hips against his, bringing your hands to his back and being prevented from leaving scratches all over the place thanks to his clothing. But it didn't stop you from digging your nails in any way.

The fact that you felt that he was determined to leave more than one mark on your body that night was enough to make your heart pound in every inch of your body and your panties start to get wet.

The heat and the need to have him had been there since the restaurant, but now a pool formed in the thin fabric.

“You’re mine, angel. Fucking mine.” he spoke close to your ear before biting your lobe and you just sighed, eyes closed and completely surrendered to him.

"Only yours."

Another kiss ensued as he walked with you across the room, taking your hands to his hair where you squeezed the dark strands as he bit your bottom lip, soon you were on the couch with him on top of you. You felt his erection and your body responded, wrapping your legs around his waist as your wetness welcomed his hard cock. Feeling your heat there made him growl and scramble out of your dress underneath, tearing the thin straps.

“So beautiful.” he whispered admiring your bust, taking his fingers to caress the skin firmly and you just moaned at the feel of his fingers on your hard nipples. And you gasped for air as he took a nipple into his mouth, sucking on it so hotly your legs were weak. You cried out for his name, it was the only thing that came into your head as you felt like you were going to combust, your body too hot as his saliva ran down your skin. He paid due attention to the other nipple as his fingers teased the other one, making you squirm beneath him. All you wanted was to feel him inside you, the muffled dreams of his moans were carrying vibrations that went straight to your panties, directly into your soaked pussy. He bit into your belly, making you open your eyes to stare at him and have the most pleasurable sight of him settling your legs between his shoulders to get ready to eat you. “Babe, please.” you pleaded, seeing him smirk.

He took a finger to your pussy, an almost imperceptible caress that didn't match the fire you felt, making you moan a little louder. Your panties were so wet that you would have been embarrassed if not for your husband's words. "I'll give you what you want, you know why?" he asked and you shook your head, trying to sway for him to come closer but his hands holding your hips on the couch prevented it. "Because you're a good girl. So good you deserve to have this pretty pussy eaten by me." You squirmed, his dirty words were making you even wetter and it bothered you not to have his tongue or fingers there. “Please.” “What do you want, hm?” he pushed your panties to the side and your pussy fluttered from the inside. “Tell me and I will give you, angel.” “Your tong-” your words caught in your throat before you could even finish because that's exactly what he gave you. He slowly licked your soaking pussy, making you whine louder, his skillful tongue explored from bottom to top, in a sensual and torturous rhythm, he was hungry for you but he didn't stop eating your pussy in the way he knew drove you crazy. He thrust deep into your velvet flesh and then back up to your clit, he didn't want to waste a drop, an inch of your pussy. He wanted to remind you that he was yours and you were his, to make you forget any trace of Johnny's eyes on you though none of that was remembered now. The only thing you remembered was moaning his name over and over again like a mantra. Your body temperature rose even more, that famous knot in your lower abdomen was there and you were closer to coming, noticing that Doyoung stuck two fingers in your pussy while his tongue took care of your swollen clit. “Oh my god.” “Come for me, baby girl.” groaning loudly, all you could do was obey and you came hard. He didn't waste your cum, swallowing everything while you tried to somehow regain lost air. He lifted his torso, letting your limp legs fall to the couch as he took off your panties completely. You breathed heavily and he leaned in to kiss you again, this time a little slower to share your own taste. You responded, taking your hands to the shirt he was wearing and started to pull it up, he laughed low against your lips and helped you take off the useless piece. It was your turn to kiss his neck, licking every bit of skin and his Adam's apple, which grew more prominent as he tipped his head back as your hands deftly went to the zipper of his pants. You both moaned as you also reached for his hard member, which practically begged to be released from those tight pants. And that's exactly what you did, with his help, the pants ended up somewhere in the room while you groped his hard member over his underwear. Moaning very close to your ear, Doyoung held tight to your waist and sat on the sofa, bringing you to sit on his lap, you helped him take off his underwear and was going down to return the pleasure when he stopped you.

"No." he spoke in a low voice and you looked at him confused. "Today is all about you, baby girl."

"But I want to return the favor." you pouted and he fit you better in his lap, smiling sideways.

"You can do that later." he winked and you reluctantly agreed. "Now I want you to ride me."

You bit your bottom lip, hearing it so down and dirty was just as pleasurable, not as much as actually riding him. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he gripped his hard member to fit your pussy. "Keep being that good girl." that's what he said before you went down so he could enter you at once. Closing your eyes at the feel of him erect and pulsing inside you, you began to ride at a slow pace. He held your hips tightly, lost in how perfectly you fit together.

"Open your eyes, angel." he asked, then moaned, and you did so to find his eyes as lost in desire as his were. "Look, watch how you ride me, how your pussy was made for my cock, how your pussy swallows my dick perfectly. No one will ever fill you up like that.” And you could only nod as you moaned, up and down his cock. But he was impatient with your pace, so he grabbed your hips with both hands and made you ride even deeper, in and out faster of his cock. You then rested your forehead on his shoulder, the loud moans mixing with the wet sound of bodies moving together. Your pussy tightened every time his hard cock hit your g-spot, making you see stars even with your eyes closed. He went steady, deeper. He hadn't just marked your body on the outside but he was determined to mark the inside as well and it was all too pleasurable. Sweat trickled down your back, his short nails dug into your skin as he filled you in an intimate way and he would say the sweetest dirty words you had ever heard, he would praise you amidst the suffering moans of someone who was so close to coming but didn't want it to end yet, just like you. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, babe.” you said in sobs as you rode him even faster, listening to the couch creak. “Right behind you, angel.” The ecstasy and anxiety of knowing he was about to come with you flooded through you and you lifted your head to rest your forehead against his and look him in the eyes.

“I want you to cum inside me, please.” you pleaded so softly he rolled his eyes peacer before putting his tongue into your mouth once more, your thighs trembled and he held you even tighter practically merging your bodies together.And then that whole wave of pleasure hit you again, moaning even louder but being muffled by Doyoung's mouth glued to yours he moaned together and came on you as you released your come. You still continued riding him at a slower pace to try to catch your breath while he hid his face in the back of your neck, without undoing the firm grip on your waist. “That's the sexiest sex we ever had.” he spoke, breathless against your skin and you chuckled softly. "Well, I guess we're not done yet, if I remember correctly I need to return you a favor."

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yanderecrazysie · 2 months

Text

Shoot to Thrill (Yandere Floyd)

Requested on Quotev! This is a bit short.

Title: Shoot to Thrill

Pairings: Floyd Leech x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, mafia AU

Summary: You’re given over to Floyd in place of your parents’ debts.

“Shoot to thrill, play to kill

I got my gun at the ready, gonna fire at will, yeah

I'm like evil, I get under your skin

Just like a bomb that's ready to blow”

-From “Shoot to Thrill” by AC/DC

“You’ll do anything for your parents, right?”

“You understand that this is the only way, don’t you?”

The black car comes for you in the dead of night and you climb in, sandwiched between your mother and father in the back seat. The driver never turns to look back at you, never says a word on the entire silent ride.

You can’t look out the tinted windows because your parents block them with their bowed heads. So you stare ahead blankly, trying hard not to think about what you’re about to face.

The car comes to a stop much too quickly for your liking. The driver opens the left side door and you and your family climb out slowly.

The house in front of you is huge- definitely considered a mansion by everyday standards. The lights filter through the windows, lighting up the night and casting eerie shadows across the sprawling front lawn. There’s a tacky hedge maze to the right of the manor and you can’t help but scoff at how rich people waste their money.

As you and your parents approach the tall double doors, they open and a man motions for you to walk through the doorway. Your parents, as meek as ever, wait for you to enter before they do. You trudge after the man who opened the door, tears pricking your eyes as you wonder what’s to come of you.

You’re led to the living room of the mansion, where a man is draped over the sofa lankily. One strand of darker hair hangs lazily from his head, his yellow and gray eyes scrutinizing you from behind the strand the moment you walk through the archway.

A chandelier hangs directly above you and you wish it would fall on your head and bring an end to this torture.

“Mr. Leech, we’ve come to, um, offer up our daughter in place of our debt.”

You stare up at the chandelier, blinking back tears. You’re furious with this man before you, who bullies and threatens his clients. You’re furious at your parents, for even thinking of handing you over like this. And, most of all, you’re furious with yourself for being too weak to fight this.

Floyd Leech grins widely, “You’re giving up your only child so you don’t have to pay me?” His lidded eyes look you up and down and his smile only grows. You try not to let your disgust show when he reaches forward and grabs your hand, tugging you closer to him.

“Shrimpy’s pretty cute,” he coos, and it’s then that you know your fate is sealed.

“I’ll take her.”

—----------------

Floyd plays with a strand of your hair, burying his face into the side of your neck, landing a gentle kiss on it and chuckling when you shudder. His hands are flaked with dried blood and you know what that means.

He always seeks your companionship after killing someone.

Maybe it’s the guilt of committing murder, or maybe it gets him riled up, but either way, you were his cuddle buddy for at least a couple of hours. You begin to squirm in discomfort, trying to give yourself some space from him.

The bulge of a gun grazes your side as he holds you closer. It’s a subtle warning.

Your fighting spirit evaporates.

You hate your parents. You hate him. You hate yourself.

If only you had been just a little stronger.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere one shot #one shot #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #yandere floyd #floyd leech

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two-white-butterflies · 1 year

Text

let the light in - am. targaryen

Description: Aemond is your father's business partner. Despite the age-gap, you find yourself falling for him. (modern au) Rating: 18+ age-gap, light comedy at the end and vanilla smut Series: part two of my mafia one-shots.

A thick smoke always follow his body, the smell of strong male-perfume radiating through the atmosphere, and his fucking smile. Those were the three things that reminded you of Mr. Aemond. He was your father's closest friend - his right hand man, who would one day inherit the entire thing.

"There's only one kind of business, the bottom line." your father chuckles, filling his cup with whiskey.

He was staring at you - with that hungry grin. His legs were spread open, almost welcoming you to sit. "Our competitors are weak, sir. They don't stand a chance against us." Aemond confirms, blowing a puff of thick smoke in the atmosphere.

He was the man of your dreams. He always smelled like black coffee, cigarettes and perfume. He's got you weak on your knees. "Still, I want them finished." he commanded, eyes suddenly turning cold.

Your father was an insecure man - paranoid of the people that wanted his power. He only trusted you and Aemond.

"That can be arranged," Aemond mumbles, puffing another cloud of smoke in your father's gallery.

You follow after him that night, stopping in front of his Mercedes before he could get inside. "You aren't gonna kill them, right?" you inquire, resting your hand on the hood of his car. He gives you a small glance - not enough to scare you, but enough to prove that he didn't care. "There's a lot of things that you'd do for my dad, but one of them shouldn't be killing, sir." you grit your teeth, uncomfortable of the idea that he'd be murdering someone.

That would ruin the image, wouldn't it?

"Listen, princess - your dad's business isn't your business." he replied curtly, gently moving you out of the way so that he could open his car. He was a cold and uncaring man - but you saw something inside of him that was worth fighting for.

"Come on," you groan, watching as he went inside his car. You immediately bolt to the other side, circling his hood and settling beside the front passenger seat. You open the door before he could lock it, a piece of your mind wanted to believe that he wanted you beside him.

"What are you doing?" he questions, putting on his seatbelt with a small smirk.

"I'm going with you." you demanded.

"Whatever you say, princess." he hums, starting his car.

Best believe that he never made it out of the gated community. He was parked right outside of your house, lips on your own. "If only daddy could see you now," he teases, rubbing his hands through your unclothed body. He was almost sure that no one could see the both of you - because of the thick hedges that hid his car from view.

He breaks the kiss - to stare at your face. His eye flickered a familiar color. It was the look of a boy who was cunt-struck. The boys at your old school used to look at you in the same way.

"You're making me do something that can only be kept as a secret." he whispers, cupping your cheeks and staring at those beautiful eyes. "I wanna be your secret," you coo and his face softens. A fucking menace for a wife, that is what you'd be.

The sound of your voice has him hard on his cock.

"You wanna be my little girl?" he questions, pulling your face closer but avoiding the steering-wheel in front of him. "I wanna be that," you whisper, and his hands reach past you and down to the buttons of your chair - reclining it, until you were lying down.

You stare at him again - waiting and anticipating his next move. He places the car on park, blasting the ac until it was a perfect temperature from him. He gets rid of his top, hovering over you.

"Turn the car off, I want it hot." you demand, and he rolls down the windows to the car. "We'll suffocate, princess." he hums - staring at you with a predatory stare. He reminded you of one of the lions that you'd see in the zoo - scary but pretty.

He leans back down, bridging your lips together - but now, you were grinding unto him. Chasing your pleasure with the small bulge in his pants, your hands walk down to unzip his pants, shocked at the length of him. "That's big," you say out loud and a chuckle emerges from his mouth.

"You want this inside of you? Inside your little cunny?" he teases, pumping his cock a few times - seeing a bit of precum dribble down into his leather seats. "Yeah, do it." you demanded, earning another chuckle from the man. You were used to getting what you wanted - it comes with the title of being the daughter of a mob.

"You have to earn it, baby." he announces, running his hands through your beautiful breasts. He kneels on top of the chair, legs slightly parted to make way for your hips. "You ever sucked a man before?" he questions and you shake your head.

"I'll teach you," he says, signaling for your face to move closer to his cock. "Give me a kiss," he commands - and you obey him, pressing butterfly kisses on his growing erection. You were a lewd sight - increasing his lust by twenty.

Her hands danced on his thighs and his breathing became more erratic. He gasped slowly as he realizes that she was sucking him - with no need of instruction. "Yes, right there." he moans, arching his hips slightly to have a better angle. You lapped his dick - sucking on it eagerly so he could reward you.

A chill ran down his spine at the feel of your tongue swirling around his engorged lust. "Good," he kept moaning, looking down at you and burying his hand on your hair. You were a fucking delight.

"So good." he exhaled, feeling his peak come closer.

"Stop." he commanded, and you released his penis - creating a thick strand of saliva that connected the both of you. "You want me to cum inside of you?" he teased and you nod. The anticipation was overbearing. He reaches for the condom on his back-pocket - earning a raise of an eyebrow from you.

"Come," he motions while wrapping his dick with the rubber. "Open your legs," he ordered - you open it for a bit, but he grows impatient - opening it wider. He wastes no time in inserting his penis inside your gaping hole. "I'll be gentle," he promises - you stare at him again.

"I like rough sex," you confess - a small chuckle exits his mouth.

"Dirty lying girl, this isn't your first time?" he stated and you nodded with a giggle. "I'm sorry - I didn't wanna get into trouble." you reasoned - he began thrusting inside of you, reaching places that you didn't think existed.

"You're in trouble now, princess." he hums.

He groans at your tightness, feeling your walls push against his length. "So big," you huff, feeling him pump into your body. "I'm flattered," he smirks, burying his face on your shoulder.

He was about to say something dirty but a knock on the car window broke him away from his bliss. Luckily, the windows were slightly tinted, not fully opened- and the person outside wasn't able to make out your face. "Who is it?" you complain, trying to peek through his body - but he pushes you down. "It's your dad," he panicked, feeling embarrassment course through his body.

"Fuck," you curse, hearing your father laugh on the other side.

"Aemond, I told you to kill someone - not fuck one of my daughter's maids." the man takes a deep breath of his tobacco, staring at the other direction. "I'm sorry, princess." Aemond mumbles, zipping his trousers - he presses a soft kiss on your lips. "Pick me up tomorrow, quarter to five." you remind, and he leans deeper into the kiss - before finding his way on the driver's seat and hurrying to chase after your dad.

You sigh.

One day.

@beaconofthehightower @casualheartadorable

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mrsshabana · 6 months

Note

Aaah there are so many I want to see but for now could you show Mafia!Demon!Gyutaro?

I'm so glad you picked this one because it is one of my favorites too! This fic takes place in the AAO au. But if Gyutaro didn't go to college and joined the mafia with the other moons instead.

If you aren't familiar with my Against All Odds au, basically demons live among humans similarly to Tokyo Ghoul. But they don't have to eat humans, they can survive by eating any raw meat. Though some of them will still eat humans anyways.

Content: 18+ MDNI, Gyutaro x female!reader, violence, kidnapping, sexual themes

✧:･ﾟ→ My WIP's

𝑴𝒂𝒇𝒊𝒂!𝑫𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏!𝑮𝒚𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒐 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

The world of demons was foreign to you, but in the blink of an eye you were thrusted into this life and demons became all you knew.

The only other humans you ever interacted with were the other girls. Girls who were in the same unfortunate position as you.

You were no one special before. Just working your way through life like the rest of us. And that’s how he found you. You were the perfect candidate really. Young, attractive, and weak. He was sure you’d be profitable. Abducting you in the cover of nightfall as you walked home from work after a graveyard shift.

Your abductor, the demon with the two-toned hair, took you to the black market. Selling you to an illegal exotic dancing club. A place where humans are kept captive for the enjoyment of demons. Forced to wear lingerie and dance behind nichirin bars.

This became your new normal.

You hated everyone here. The other girls gave you a hard time because you were new, and the owner of the club didn’t help. She’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, with stark white hair, two-toned just like the demon that had abducted you.

For some reason, that demon often came into your thoughts. As you sit in the back room, preparing yourself for your upcoming scheduled dance, you think back to him. His appearance was terrifying, but something about him intrigued you. You’ve been an exotic dancer for only a week, and you haven’t seen him since that first day.

Too distracted by your lingering thoughts, you barely notice the other girls shuffling out of the room. You’ve been surviving by following what the other girls do, the girls that have been here for years. And an uncanny feeling begins to form in your gut. One that tells you that you should follow them. So you hastily finish your hair and makeup, slide on your heels, and make your way towards the door.

And that is when you bump into him.

In your panicked state, you open the door too quickly without realizing what’s on the other side. Walking into the man’s chest, with a huff you slip on your heels. Falling right on your ass, at the feet of the only demon you recognize in this place.

Glowing eyes stare down at you with a frown. His lips downturned in an annoyed scowl. Looking down at you as if you are his prey, his frown changes into a toothy smirk, showing off his sharp teeth.

Every nerve under your skin burns, every muscle in your body aches with the desire to run. But you find yourself frozen at his feet. Staring up at him like a helpless puppy.

“I-it’s you…” you whimper as he quirks a brow at your acknowledgment. Crouching in front of you and reaching forward to grip your cheeks with the rough pads of his fingertips. He hums as his grin widens, turning your face side to side, inspecting you.

“Oh so you remember me? How sweet,” he coos.

Quickly getting bored, he rolls his eyes and stands, “Get up,” he orders.

“R-right,” you stutter, struggling to get back on your feet. Once you are able to stand properly you bow and apologize, “I’m so sorry for my clumsiness, please forgive me sir. I-it won’t happen next time.”

He takes a step forward and brings his hand below your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He’s pleased by how you speak to him, it’s so different from how the other girls react to him.

“So eager to please, I’m glad I found you,” he chuckles before releasing you from his grasp, “and no need to be so formal, just call me Gyutaro from now on.”

You nod and he pushes you aside, “Now scram.”

After that day, you learned who Gyutaro was and why he frequented this place. This club is owned by the Kizuki, otherwise known as the most dangerous demon mafia in the world. And Gyutaro is one of their top members, along with his sister, Daki, who so happens to be the manager here.

Gyutaro comes once a week to collect the money that the dancers have generated, and once a month he’ll bring new girls if there is a need for more dancers.

Every time you’d see him, you’d politely greet him. A part of you hates him for bringing you here, but you begin looking forward to his weekly visits, even though he rarely acknowledges you.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

You’ve been here for a few months now. Things have gotten alarmingly mundane. Your previous life becomes a distant memory as you’ve even forgotten what the warmth of the sun feels like on your skin…

Putting on your lingerie, slipping into a pair of stockings and heels before you exit your quarters.

Daki waits for you in the backroom with a group of other girls. Something must be going on. Daki never bothers to interact with the dancers much unless she’s scolding them.

“Girls, listen up,” Daki yells in an aggravated tone, “we have some special guests tonight so be on your best behavior!”

She then begins pointing to girls out of the group, instructing them to come to her, “and… you,” she points to you, “the rest of you are off for the night.”

She picked a dozen of you from the group, “Ok girls, you’ll be having some very special customers tonight,” she smirks, “Come with me.”

You all follow her out onto the dancing stage, where nichirin bars separate you from a group of men sitting in front of the stage.

She instructs you to stand in a line. And your heart sinks at what she does next.

Pressing a button behind the stage, the bars begin to lower until there is nothing separating you from the men that sit in front of you.

And what do you know… there he is. Gyutaro sits nonchalantly with his legs spread wide, a lazy smirk on his face. He’s wearing his usual attire, ripped black jeans, black leather boots, and a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His birthmarks and various tattoos are visible on his exposed skin.

The other men you don’t recognize.

Daki turns on the music and shouts, “If you're chosen, give him a lap dance. If not chosen, you're free to go back to your quarters for the night.”

What the fuck is happening right now. As far as you know, this doesn’t happen. They never allow girls to get in such close proximity to customers for safety reasons. Having half naked women flaunted in front of blood thirsty demons is a recipe for disaster, which is why the nichirin bars have always stayed between the stage and the customers. The only time a girl is allowed to give personal dances is if the guests pay a hefty price… and even then the dancer usually never comes back.

They begin going down the line, each man pointing to a woman of his choice. And for some reason, you’re relieved when Gyutaro points to you. Feeling a heavy weight lifted from your shoulders.

This doesn’t go unnoticed. Gyutaro’s smirk is wiped off his face when you flash him the tiniest smile as you make your way to him. You shouldn’t be happy about this. He knows you know who he is and his status within the mafia, so why are you so eager to see him?

After each man has made his selection, Daki takes the remaining girls backstage. Leaving you vulnerable at the hands of the Kizuki…

Dim lights flicker as you stand between his legs. Gyutaro’s gaze trails down your body, pupils hesitating when he reaches your breasts, and stopping when his gaze reaches your thighs.

This is quite awkward for you. Yeah, you’re used to dancing for guests but Gyutaro has never been one of your guests. He’s always just been the guy that comes to collect the money, you never viewed him as a customer. But orders are orders and in this place you know you have no choice. So you begin to dance for him.

“Stop,” Gyutaro says sternly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward, “Sit…”

You nod and do as you're told, taking a seat on his lap, straddling him. He rests his left hand on your thigh, and brings his other hand up to your face. Moving a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Why so eager to see me?” words drawn out, his hooded lids stare at you with a lazy expression.

“I-I was just glad that you picked me…” you blush, feeling your body heat up.

He hums, holding your hips down as he rolls his hips upwards. A hard bulge can be felt through his jeans, rubbing directly on the wet spot shamefully forming in your panties.

“I can’t imagine why,” he growls.

You lean forward to hold onto his shoulders for support, “You-you’re the only one I recognized…”

Gyutaro can see right through you as you spit out a half truth. Trying to convince yourself that that is the only reason that you were happy to see him. That you haven’t formed some sick attraction towards him.

“Well, I was happy to see you too,” he smirks, caressing your cheek, “so pretty, so obedient, so eager to please… so sweet to me every time I come by each week.”

His praises make the tightness in your chest worsen, you feel like you can’t breathe. Your whole body feels hot as he leans forward to kiss your neck. Nipping at your collarbone with his teeth. Your small acts of kindness and simple decency towards him have caused him to grow a liking to you. Forming foreign feelings towards something that he only viewed as food before.

Tilting your head to the side to give him better access to your neck, you look beside you. The sight makes your blood run cold.

The man beside you, a demon with platinum blonde hair and rainbow eyes, is busy ripping out the trachea of one of the dancers. Blood covers his mouth, pooling beneath him on the floor. Looking further down the line you see similar acts.

You seem to be the only girl left alive.

Gyutaro instantly senses your panic. Feeling your pulse increase drastically under his lips as he kisses your neck. You begin to squirm in his grasp, but he keeps you seated with a firm grip. Your breathing becomes choppy and panicked, whining as tears blur your vision.

“Hey hey hey, you’re ok,” he coos and wraps his arms around your waist to pull you close, “I’m here with you, doll.”

“P-please…” you whimper pathetically.

“Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” Gyutaro grabs your face, forcing you to look at him, “You trust me don’t you?”

Through hiccups and sobs you respond weakly with a nod, “Y-yes.”

“Good girl,” he groans, “It’s just me and you right now… don’t worry about anything else.”

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyuutarou #gyuutarou x reader #gyutaro smut #mafia au #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #replies

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fyloe · 16 days

Text

My CoTL AU (Mostly backstory)

BLOOD TW & Yap session warning.

[I've simplified it as much as possible and included little pictures for those with short attention spans.]

This is begins before the slaughter of the lambs and the universe's rules are slightly tweaked, just a twinge... A wee bit. (I only say this because I either can't remember or don't know everything about the game).

It all starts with a little lamb named Marrei who's living in Anura with her parents. Her mother is pregnant/expecting soon and her father works from sunrise to sunset, food is scarce and they all risk starving.

Her mother continuously tries to give her portions to her frail and weak daughter (Marrei) only for her husband to stop her and force her to eat, sometimes he doesn't succeed and instead he gives her his portions to eat.

Marrei's father eventually dies of starvation and the pair (trio including unborn child) continue to eat whatever they can get from scraps, without her father around her mother continues to give Marrei all the food.

One day her mother leaves and does not come back.

Marrei waits inside that house for a week, almost weeks, before she exits. She finds her mothers corpse, her mother had left to die next to where her father lay. He wasn't buried, used instead for compost.

(I didn't add much detail cause I'm lazy.)

It had been so long that her parents were thoroughly picked apart by birds.

So Marrei, in her little mind, was like "hey, don't baby lamb skulls make me live a long time or something?" So, she took her brother's (congrats, it was a boy) skull and brought it with her.

She just picked a random direction and walked, and walked, and walked... she just kept walking with no goal in mind.

For days.

For weeks.

Longer than she spent alone in her house, just ratting whatever berries or pumpkins she finds. She is kicked from many farms. She grows.

Eventually she happens upon a temple.

(This is where shit gets blurry as I have only got the back bones laid out, some areas have excessive minor detail whilst areas like this do not. Marrei could've gotten caught by guards or just knocked on the door, either way she ends up getting indoctrinated into Heket's cult.)

Marrei undergoes the world's loooooongest training montage to level up from beta noob to level 99 Mafia boss and through the power of toxic Yuri she becomes the consort of Heket and they are gay for each other for a couple thousand years (she gets an official immortality necklace from her shawty).

She basically becomes the words most humblest spoiled brat, getting gifts she didn't ask for all while continuing to be a nice soft person.

(Marrei looooves gold.)

(These are the years she develops relationships with the bishops that come up after they become followers + other secrets that you only get if you stick around.)

Then it happened.

Marrei didn't know much about Narinder as he had only sought her out once and once alone.

She had unknowingly given Narinder a little push, fed the thoughts festering in the back of his mind, yet was completely taken by surprise at the news of his (albeit failed) usurpment attempt.

Marrei spends a while in depression, having lost someone she considered close even though they had spoken once (she's just nice like that) and everybody else she cared about (Leshy/Heket) was badly injured.

She was then promptly kicked out without warning or reason and banished from Anura by Heket.

In a panic, she finds her way into Darkwood as it's the only other place she knows.

This is essentially a period of inactivity, things happen but nothing too serious to write about.

Well, there's one thing....

But, that's a secret.

Marrei gets kicked out of Darkwood as well and then she decides it's time to just start walking again.

So she does.

She walks and walks.

Eventually, she ends up at the clearing Ratau shows the player and attempts to set up camp.

Alas, she's jack shit at anything but sitting there and looking pretty so she struggles for a long time before meeting Ratau.

He helps her get set up and teaches her how to be an independent woman/is like her father because shes a fatherless idiot and Ratau isn't old enough to be a wrinkly old ballsack yet as he just got fucked over and fired from vessel duty.

You guys will never guess what happens next lmao

Marrei lays an egg!

*air horn sound effect*

(No, it's not Ratau's wtf...)

So yeah, that thing hatches and she doesn't know what to do. Marrei is a horrid mother and she cries all the time, she cries a lot. She is stupid, stupid woman. She is too busy living in the past and missing her shawty.

Ratau smacks her on the head with his stick a couple times... A lot of times.

Fun fact: The Lamb literally doesn't have a name, at all. Everybody just calls them Lamb, or The Lamb, or Leader.

This is because Marrei just... never named them.

Probably doing mushrooms or something lmao

Marrei pulls on her big girl pants and gets her shit together eventually because she actually gives a shit about her kid, she's just a loser who has no idea what the fuck she's doing and didn't expect bro to pop out...

The Lamb grows up to have a close bond with Marrei and Ratau who occasionally visit like a grandpa.

When Lamb turns 18 they're like "can I finally leave bro, just for a little bit, I've never stepped foot out of this camp"

Marrei is like "FUCK NO!"

And Ratau is like "bro, chillax..."

So she sighs and allows them out.

Only for Lamb to immediately get lost and be captured before being put to slaughter as 'The Last Lamb".

Lamb meets The One Who Waits and Narinder is like "lmao why u kinda godly or sum shit" and Lamb is like "brother what... Can I just die or go home like damn" and Nari like "shit calm down rude ass"

So Lamb returns home to a worried sick Marrei sobbing in Ratau's arms as the red crown's vessel.

The game mostly continues like normal, the bishops don't know the lamb is related to them and neither does the lamb.

Except after the slaughter of Leshy, Marrei distances herself from her child and then right after Lamb defeats Heket's final mini boss Marrei finally cracks and tells the Lamb everything.

Who their other mother is (don't worry how it happened, it's magic), That their half god/frog, Her upbringing, just... Everything.

(This is old art, I just thought it was fitting lmao)

Lamb does the equivalent of saving and exiting the game, leaving the cult and going fishing or working on Sozo's quests or something.

Lamb continues their crusade through Anura in which you can get a new dialogue option with Heket where she (not by name) mentions/refers to Marrei, saying the Lamb reminds her of someone she once knew. She remarks on the familiarity of his bracelets they wear as similar to ones she had given to Marrei. (As Marrei had regifted it to the Lamb.)

While the Lamb is out they end Heket without informing her of anything, that Marrei is alive or of their relation.

Once again, the game pretty much continues as normal until the bishop's revival. (Besides the fact of Narinder being a smarty pants and figuring out that Lamb was related to him and being a pissy bitch about it, yapping about the irony of his siblings unknowingly losing to someone who's their blood--things coming full circle.)

There's very minor plot that happens after the game's technical end besides Marrei getting her closure and becoming a toxic old Yuri couple with her shawty, having another kid, Leshy being a fucking goober and getting into a throuple, and Narinder trying to be a not dog shit uncle...

So yeah, that's all!

I'm probably gonna remember a shit ton of lore later and be super angry like "stupid little fucking brain fuck you!" but like this post has been deleted more than four times and I've had to redo it so this so what you get have fun

This post is dedicated to @owl-lady-lover, thank you for asking about my lore! :3>

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sarahowritesostucky · 6 months

Text

📖"Coming to Collect"

Rated: Mature

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Tags: mob boss Bucky, mafia au, spanking, Steve watches, background m/f/m, possessive Bucky, dark Bucky, fingering

Summary: You're trapped, caught, stuck like a bug in honey as he crosses the room. You spoke out of turn, embarrassed him in front of the others. Made him look weak. Now you squirm in your seat, all-too-aware of what he'll be doing to you once he gets you someplace private.

Really, you regret it the second the words cross your lips. It's a party, you've made a joke--and sure, it was funny enough, and lighthearted enough--but it was also at his expense. And he heard you. And if there's one thing you NEVER want to do, it's make him look weak in front of others. Which is exactly why he's heading your way, now.

Bucky. You whimper without meaning to, pressing your lips together to stifle the noise. No, you try to plead with your eyes. I'm sorry.

He doesn't stop, keeps walking over to where you're supposedly "holding court" with some of the other wives---a role you never asked for but which has been foisted on you anyway, just like him. He moves slowly, in no rush, looking very nice indeed in his perfectly-tailored suit. You can see the glint of his Rolex peeking from his cuff, the tattoos on the back of his hand that you now know mark him as a very Russian, very bad man.

You wore a skirt to this event, silk, and the memory of what he's capable of reducing you to in a skirt makes your thighs squeeze together on reflex. Your pulse picks up as you watch him approach. Just at seeing the lax set of his jaw, the way his tongue sneaks out to wet his lips, eyes glinting and trained on you. Just these tiny things make your heart beat faster and your cunt pulse. To everyone else he must look completely casual, but you know better.

"Ladies," he greets, making the assembled group of women--all of whom belong to men less dangerous and less important than him--flutter their lashes up at him. He stops just beside your chair, holds out his hand with the faintest hint of a smirk. "Come on, Doll," he says softly, making the other women titter. You know that they all fantasize about him, that they think they know him, think they're imagining correctly when they imagine cheating on their husbands with him.

If only they knew ...

-Knew that the arch in his brow is saying: Watch you mouth, Puppy.

-That the gleam in his eye is promising: You're gonna pay for that one, Princess.

-That the quirk of his lips is whispering: Just wait 'till Daddy gets you over his lap.

-That he doesn't care what you want; That's for him to decide.

You feel dread curling like smoke in your belly, mixing with the heat and the tightness that're suddenly there as well. Your panties, you realize, are a little bit damp.

He waits with that patient and unwavering stare, until you slip your hand into his large and calloused one. "Time to go home," he purrs, and you swallow thickly, because you can hear the unspoken ending to that sentence.

The wives don't even wait until you're out of hearing distance, before they start whispering behind your back. But you couldn't give two figs about whatever gossip they may choose to make up. All your focus is on Bucky. He smells like expensive cologne and clean male musk; the latter of which you know you'll be face down in, the second the two of you reach a private place. He kisses your cheek and walks you out of the party with a gentlemanly arm around your waist, hand well-within polite territory.

Out on the chilly city sidewalk, that hand slides up your spine, up to cup the back of your neck and steer you towards the idling towne car. You'd arrived in separate cars, but apparently you'll be leaving in this one together. He opens the door for you and purrs, "Now tell me, Princess: how many do you think you deserve?"

You barely contain your whimper. And when you slide across the back seat of the Bentley, you see that the chauffer's cap ahead of you is resting on a head of blond hair. Your eyes go wide and a new gush of wetness appears between your legs. This time, you don't fully contain the whimper.

Steve's driving tonight.

Bucky notices your reaction, of course he does, and he looks gleeful. He knows that he doesn't have to remind you that this car has no partition. And when Steve pulls the car out into the heavy traffic of Saturday night Manhattan, Bucky pulls you smoothly over his lap ... and begins to finger you from under the silk of your skirt.

"Oh god," you whine.

"Honey. You're so wet."

"Bucky-"

His hand covers your mouth. "Hey Steve." He relays your "joke" to the other man, talks with him about you like you're not there. "Tell me: how many you think she deserves?"

"Oh Boy," you hear come smugly from the front seat. "Let me just think ..."

The drive home is long that night, with Bucky narrating every single filthy thing he does to you, in the back seat of that car.

Masterlist

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #mob au #mafia au #mafia bucky barnes #mob bucky barnes #dark romance #bucky barnes #m/f/m #bucky x reader x steve

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marigolddove · 1 year

Text

Love Begins With Murder, Believe it or Not.

Part One

This is a request from @yandere-dark-cupid, I'm sure you intended for this to be a one-shot...buuuuut I got super carried away because I L O V E mafia/mob AUs. They're my favorite all around and I just couldn't help myself, especially when you said you wanted a sweet civilian that's my jam. So, yeah this is part One for now, I'm thinking this is gonna end up being 3 parts minimum with how it's going and I will tag you in all 3, thanks for the request it was so much fun to plan and write and I hope you're happy with it!

Warnings: Blood and violence at the start, bit of torture and mentions of murder. Only at the very start though.

💀♥️💀

If Wally Darling could only choose two qualities he hates most in this world he would choose dishonesty and disloyalty. Both of which this sorry bastard strapped to a chair in his office have. Wally didn't need to watch to know Barnaby was doing his job and doing it well, making this insignificant waste of air scream and wheeze through his gag.

He had more important things to focus on anyhow, like his craft for one. Having grown bored of reading recent reports and approving deals with neighboring rival groups, he turned to what he really loved most: art.

Sure now it was only a hobby compared to his full time job of running his family, but in his younger years it was his passion; his reason to get out of bed each morning and breathe. He's become weary and disappointed by his lack of motivation and inspiration as of late. There was a time when no one could pull him away from an easel or a sketch book for hours; but now, even with the tension and emotions bouncing around the room from this well deserved "lesson" he couldn't fully immerse himself in his work.

At a particularly loud and strangled cry from the now ex-member of his family, Wally growled and scribbled through his current piece so violently the paper ripped; then tossed the sketchbook and pencil haphazardly onto his desk. He finally turned his attention to Barnaby and his victim.

Barnaby, having heard his friend's frustration through the gasping breaths of some no-name newbie who crossed Eddie and Frank, immediately fixed his attention onto Wally.

"Everything alright boss?"

"Just peachy." Wally sneered sarcastically, clasping his hands tightly together on his desk, "I believe I'm now tired of our session, you can take him and finish this up elsewhere, please? Oh, and on your way out get Julie for me."

Barnaby immediately unstrapped the man from the chair and threw his weak, limp body over his shoulder, "Sure thing boss, I won't take up more of your time; but I'll be around if ya' need me." He moved to grab the bloodied and soiled chair, but stopped when Wally waved dismissively.

"No need for that, leave the chair and the mess, I'll have someone else clean that. Thank you Barnaby, be safe." Barnaby nodded and with that left the now slightly dank office.

Now alone for a moment, Wally leaned back into his leather seat and sighed, typically he wouldn't have these sessions in his office but this had been a…special occasion. A heat of the moment call if you will.

You see, that man had been new to the family, very new. He had yet to learn just how important family really is to Mr. Darling, but when he put the lives of Eddie and Frank into danger well…now he knew. All could have been forgiven had he shown a bit of sympathy and care for his new found family, but all he seemed to care about was his wallet. Selling personal information about individual members of the family to rival groups or reporters, one of those stories being about Eddie and Frank.

Wally has never frowned upon interpersonal relationships, in fact he had encouraged it. Afterall, love is a beautiful and wonderful thing and he was so pleased it had been found in his friends. It was just such a shame that others didn't seem to share his sentiments on the matter.

Running a hand through his hair, he attempted to correct any loose curled strands that fell into his face and onto his ears during his episode moments before, using any residual hair product still in his hair to hold them back in place. He began to straighten his posture and his desk at the sound of heel'd footsteps against the hardwood floors of the hall outside his door.

Soon in walked Julie, dressed in a very fine magenta three-piece suit, a black criss-cross bow tie, classic black heels and her hair curled and pinned back to perfection; jewelry accenting her manicured hands. Wally felt a swell of pride and admiration towards Julie's sense of confidence and style.

"Well, don't you look fierce today my friend." He started warmly at her entrance, she beamed at his compliment; only briefly glancing at the bloody mess at the center of his office before seemingly losing interest and turning her attention back to him.

"I woke up feeling fierce, so I just had to go all out today," she states as she moves to stand in front of his desk, hands on her hips, "so," she glances at the distressed art book still on his desk, "Barnaby said you needed to see me?"

"Yes, I just sent him to take care of that…problem we were having, and it occured to me that the problem had a romantic partner. A young woman by the name of…" he examined a note he wrote for himself, "Ah, Allison Forester."

A look of understanding flashed across Julie's face, "You need me to take care of her?" She was surprised when he shook his head.

"No, no that won't be necessary. Our message will be clear soon enough, and there was never any evidence she was involved in his little scheme." His face turned a bit sour at the end before reverting back to neutral, "No, I want to send her flowers as an apology for his mess and for my rash actions." He sounded anything but apologetic, in fact he smiled just a tiny bit when calling his actions 'rash'.

"Oh, okay, sure thing sir. Any types of flowers in particular?" She knew Wally was very detail oriented and wanted to be sure he was giving her full creative liberties.

He waved dismissively, "No, just something pretty, that's all for now. You're dismissed, be safe." Turning his attention back to the art book, Julie knew he was now ignoring her; but she didn't take it to heart, he never meant anything by it, that's just how he was. Quick and to the point, and once the point was over he was done with it entirely.

—————————

Julie closed the office door behind her as she strutted her way back out into the main area of the building, the building they're in used to be strictly an office building, but since it fell into Wally's hands it was almost like an art studio where business happened to be held. He had completely renovated the building, still keeping some of the office spaces (not all of them were used as such however) but also turning part of the building into his own private home and space. They had more official places of business elsewhere, this one was just for comfort, for him to be himself.

Only the closest of family members were allowed to work here, the most trusted and beloved; because Wally does love them, even with his business facade and too-cool-for-you appearance she never doubted his love for her and the others. How could she when they're family?

Julie decided she wouldn't leave until she could say goodbye to Frank and Eddie, they were her two closest friends in and out of the organization, and she knew that the recent news of betrayal had hit Frank hardest. Behind their serious and uncaring demnor hid a very emotional individual only she and Eddie really got to see.

It didn't take very long to find them and when she did she nearly hesitated, they were having a moment together and seemed to be having a very serious conversation. Together they sat on a velvet bench in front of a few art pieces Wally had completed, their fingers were interlocked as they faced once another. It seemed so pure and intimate, she nearly turned to leave until Eddie spotted her out of the corner of his eyes and offered her a soft smile and silently waved her over.

When she reached the two she immediately pulled them both into a tight hug, "I'm so sorry, everything's gonna be okay, Wally will take care of this. I know he will." The two hugged her back just as tight.

"Thank you, Julie. We're grateful for the support." Said Eddie, his southern charm as endearing as ever. She felt Frank nod against her shoulder and sniff a little.

She pulled back and with as big of a smile as she could manage, Frank made it a little hard though, her poor friend's face was tear stained and eyes a bit redder than normal. They'd definitely been crying, and looking at Eddie she found unshed tears locked in his eyes and his face more flushed than usual. Good riddance to that idiot, whatever his name had been.

She'd never been the violent or hateful sort, usually charasmatic and subtle, but if Wally or Barnaby had refused to do something about that guy…well, she had no doubts she would have taken him herself.

"So where does Wally have you going?" Eddie asks, changing subject, a knowing look in his eyes. He was a sharp character, so she didn't have to ask how he knew Wally had given her a task.

"I'm glad you asked, he's asked me to pick up flowers for a lady, I wanted your advice on a good shop for it. He wants them pretty." Eddie raised a brow at her and she chuckled, "Not that kinda lady, I'm afraid. It's for the…uh, girlfriend of the scum bag."

"I'm surprised he's sending her anything but a death threat." Frank says.

"Yeah, well boss says she didn't have nothin' to do with what went down. She's just a civilian caught up in it."

Frank nods while Eddie gets this excited look in his eyes, "Oh! I know just the place, hold on," he shifts and reaches into his back pocket to pull out a nice leather wallet, he takes out a small business card and hands it to Julie, "This place is really good at making bouquets, one of the employees there is a real charmer. Name's Y/N, (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair. They're an artist when it comes to flowers, I swear." He said with a bright smile on his face, before turning a bit sheepish as the tips of his ears turned red, "I, uh, used to go there a lot back when I would get flowers for Frank." He admits.

Frank practically has hearts in their eyes as they gaze lovingly at Eddie and his bashful face, Julie giggles at how cute they are together. They truly deserved the happiness they found in one another.

"Well then, this is where I'll go then! How can I say no when you give such a sparkling review?" She teases, looking over the card and memorizing the address before tucking it into her pocket, "If I tell them your name will I get a discount?" She joked, but suddenly Eddie got a look of realization on his face.

"Ya know what? You actually might! Y/N owes me a bit of a favor, so you just tell her Eddie Dear sent ya and I'm sure she'll do something for ya." Both Julie and Frank gave him a questioning look so he continued, "There was a big ol' spider in there the last time I went, poor thing was absolutely terrified, sitting on the counter and staring at it. So, I killed it for them and they gave me an IOU, they wanted to give me my flowers for the day free of charge, but I refused." He explained with a shrug and a sweet smile.

"Flowers probably won't be too expensive and it's on Wally's dollar so I'm not really worried about it, but I'll still tell them you said 'hi'."

"Please do!"

Julie turned to leave, but not before giving one more tight hug to Frank, rubbing their back soothingly. They return the hug just as tightly.

"Be safe, and come back soon…I think I wanna talk to you alone later. I have a lot on my mind." Frank whispers into her ear, although Eddie might've heard it. He didn't speak on it.

She pats their back, "Sure thing, bestie."

With that she ends the hug and waved as she leaves the room, leaving the two as they embrace one another and continue speaking 'I love you's in hushed tones.

—————————

The flower shop is only 15 minutes from Wally's "home", and even though she recognizes the strip its located in, she's certain she's never noticed the shop before. It's surrounded by restaurants and a bakery, but now that she's noticed it she can appreciate just how cute it looks. It's small and the sign is elegant while the actual building itself is colorful compared to the rest surrounding it. It's actually so colorful she wonders how she's never noticed it before.

She enters the establishment with a ring from the bell hanging just above the door signaling her entrance, the inside is a bit more simple compared to the outside, mostly natural woods and white paint while the flowers brought the room to life with their vibrancy and colors. To her right she sees a (e/c) and (h/c) employee, just as Eddie had described.

You jump up from a stool you had been sitting on behind the counter with the register. Greeting her with a bright, relaxed smile.

"Oh! Hello, welcome, my name is Y/N. Is there any type of flower you're looking for in particular today?"

"Hello, my name is Julie. Julie Joyful, how do you do?" She asks cooly, approaching the counter and outstretching her hand, your smile somehow becomes even more dazzling at her introduction and greeting.

"I'm doing well actually, thank you for asking."

Julie reaches into her pocket and pulls out the business card holding it up, "I got your card from Eddie, he says hello and that you're quite the florist." You move out from behind the counter with a gasp, still smiling.

"Oh! Eddie sent you? Does he need more flowers for that friend of his? I thought for sure he would've won them over by now!" You laugh.

"Nope, he only recommended you, I'm here for another friend of mine actually." Julie corrects, a smirk growing on her lips, "Oh, and that friend has certainly been won over. They're so cute it's sickening."

"Oh I knew it! I had a good feeling about him, I don't always have a good feeling about every customer who comes in, but he was definitely one of the sweetest. Definitely a lot of love in his heart, for sure." You say as you approach a table next to the counter, readying some wrapping and bows/ties, "So, this friend of yours," you start with a lilt, "Are they a friend, or a friend." Julie laughs at your teasing insinuation.

"A friend, and the flowers are actually for a funeral…kinda." You immediately drop a pair of scissors you pulled out of a drawer onto the table, turning with a look of horror on your face.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have been so casual and I shouldn't ha–" Julie laughs, interrupting your hurried apology.

"No worries, it wasn't anyone close to me or to him. It's more of a courtesy thing, I guess."

A bit of color returns to your face as you visibly relax, realizing you hadn't offended Julie. Even so, next time no funny business!

"Well is there any particular message you'd like to send using the flowers? Or do you just want a bundle of the same type of flower? White lilies are very popular for funerals, although they're also great for weddings and symbolize purity, and then there's marigold's. They're a bit deceiving, because while they look bright and sunny they really represent mourning and grief."

Julie took a moment to examine the flowers filling the room, "You can also just choose whatever is prettiest to you, all flowers have special meanings and can be a sentence all on their own, but not everyone cares too much for that as long as they're pretty." You continue, not focused on Julie so much as you browsed the flowers, mentally comparing combinations in your head.

"I'll let you decide, Eddie said you're like an artist when it comes to flowers, so I'll trust you know what you're doing." You hum in response to let Julie know you heard her.

"You said the flowers aren't for anyone close, but are they a friend or family?"

"Family…kind of, I guess. They're for the girlfriend of a distant recently deceased family member."

"Ah, so like you said, a courtesy bouquet."

You take a moment to decide, then you immediately set to work, three types of flower should be enough, a short sweet message, "Coral rose, marigold and blue salvia." You say as you expertly cut the appropriate amount of each flower.

"What would that mean?" Julie asks, watching as you move the flowers to the table and clip leaves from the stems.

"Coral roses can mean friendship and modesty, but in this case it means sympathy. Marigolds, as I said, mean mourning and grief; while blue salvia means 'thinking of you'." You explain softly as you arrange and wrap the flowers gently in a neutral paper; then finally tying it together with a matching cord.

"So essentially I'm trying to tell her: 'You're on my mind and I sympathize with your grief.' short and sweet."

Julie smiles as you turn around and hand her the finished bouquet, it's more colorful than she would've thought a mourning bouquet is supposed to look, but it is pretty just like Wally requested and it has the meaning, "Perfect!".

You smile, pleased that she likes it, before moving behind the counter to ring her up; but then you remember that Eddie recommended her…you do owe him a favor. Maybe this was his favor?

"So how much do I owe ya?"

"Nothing, it's on the house, this time."

She looks up from the flowers to make eye contact, "You sure? They can't be that expensive, I don't mind paying, it's outta my buddy's wallet anyway."

"It isn't that expensive, which is why I don't mind letting this one go. It's for a good cause and I owe Eddie, I don't know if I'm calling this his one favor, but it's nice to do something nice for someone else." Julie smiles at your kindness.

"How about I just pay half then? Just consider it a special discount." That sounded like good middle ground.

You agreed to her compromise, charging her only fifteen dollars, "Thank you for your business, have a wonderful day and I hope your friend approves of the flowers!"

Julie thanked you for your help and waved goodbye before leaving the store and returning to her vehicle, delicately carrying the bouquet.

I am already working on Part Two now!

#welcome home #Wally Darling #Wally Darling x reader #Mafia!Wally Darling #Mob!Wally Darling #Mafia!AU #Violence #Julie Joyful #Eddie x Frank #fanfic

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analogwriting · 4 months

Text

Star-Crossed

Prologue: Zemra

Corazon x gn!reader word count: 3.2k a/n: I'M BACK BITCHES. here's the mafia au i've been dying to do. hopefully y'all like it lmfao. also, i think i'm just going to keep text normal size this time around.

“You can’t keep running forever, y/n.” A voice rang through the empty warehouse, making you grimace.

You were currently crouched behind a crate, holding your arm with one hand; gun in the other. A bullet went clean through your arm. It stung like hell, but you didn’t exactly have time to stitch it up right now. Quickly, you ripped off your sleeve, tying it around your bicep to at least try to slow down the bleeding. You were lightheaded, but you couldn’t let yourself pass out.

You’d already taken down two guys. How many were left? You weren’t sure. There was only one voice but the other’s could be keeping quiet for all you knew. Your eyes closed and you took a deep breath to calm yourself down so you could listen. One set of footsteps. One person breathing. Good. Just one left. Now…where was he?

Bingo.

You took a deep breath, opening your eyes. “You’ll bleed out at this rate. Just give in.” Man, did this guy ever shut up? His voice was like nails on a chalkboard to you. You moved, twisting out from behind the crate and aiming your gun. “If I’m going down, I’m not going down alone,” you said, firing your gun and landing a shot right in between his eyes. At least if you did end up bleeding out, so would three of their men.

The man dropped and you let out a long sigh that you hadn’t realized you had been holding. You leaned against the crate, closing your eyes. How the hell did you get in this situation again? Right. Your father sent you here to try and negotiate with the Donquixote family. Turns out it was just an ambush and three men had jumped you. They were pretty low level men, but an ambush nonetheless. You were almost slightly offended they’d send such weak people, but you were also glad. You tried to tell your father it was a dumb idea, but he didn’t listen.

Fuck, you didn’t even want to be here. You didn’t want to fucking do this anymore. You just wanted to focus on your studies and become a doctor. You were tired of death and destruction. You wanted to help people. You hated every bit of this, but your father was the head of your family and you didn’t want to disappoint him. You felt like you had no choice. He never said anything like that, it was just something you told yourself. You loved your father and just wanted to make him proud.

You’d thought about leaving several times before. Something told you that your father would probably let you. He wasn’t an awful man and he knew this life wasn’t for everyone, however you were his only heir. A fortune you didn’t fucking want, but you felt like you had to do it.

You closed your eyes once more, taking a deep breath before heading out of the warehouse. You needed to head back. This was a bust and your father was going to be pissed. After all, his only child was injured because of his own decision. He truly held too much trust in people - even if they were his rivals.

The Donquixote family was your father’s number one rival as he was theirs. There were other mafia families around, yes, but your two families were the strongest and most influential. As well as had the most territory. It was only natural for you to rival one another. You also didn’t typically go on runs like this. Since you were your father’s child, you were usually well protected and out of harm’s way to ensure the safety of an heir or whatever the fuck have you. Your father was trying to get rid of the bad blood and reach some kind of truce. He was never one to really be involved in turf wars. He just wanted to be left alone to do his thing but the Donquixote family made that difficult.

You were his olive branch and they had tried to metaphorically snap you in two. Physically? They just tried to riddle you with bullets. You weren’t doing this shit again though. This was the one and only time. Your father wouldn’t put you in a situation like that again, not that you’d ever agree either.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you headed out of the warehouse and down an alley. You were worse for wear - you just needed to make it to your own hideout, then you could take care of yourself. Everything would be fine.

Just as you were turning a corner, you ran smack dab into someone, sending them toppling backwards. You stumbled as they crashed to the ground. “Oh shit, I’m sorry I-” You froze as you looked at who was before you, eyes widening.

Donquixote Rosinante.

You pulled out your gun, pointing it at him and backing away from him. Your arm was long forgotten at this point as your adrenaline picked back up. What the hell was he doing here? The last you heard, he was missing. How was he here? Were those rumors a lie? Was your information false? So many questions swam through your mind as your anxiety rose. Was he part of the ambush?

He finally gathers himself, locking eyes with you as he sees you; moreso the gun you were pointing at him. You’re glad that you were wearing a face covering that masked half your face. There was no way he could be able to tell who you were.

He doesn’t look scared that you’re pointing a gun at him as expected of someone in a family like yours, but he slowly lifts his hands in surrender. “I don’t know who you are, but I don’t want to fight.” He spoke slowly, watching you like a hawk. His eyes glanced to the injury on your arm.

You narrowed your eyes at him, grimacing. “And how do I know that? How do I know you weren’t about to ambush me like your buddies did?”

Confusion consumed his features as he looked back at your eyes.. “Ambush? Buddies? I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t play dumb with me. Why the hell else would you be lurking around in an alley?”

He looked at you for a long moment, but still didn’t try to make any sudden movements. “Well, it seems you know who I am, so I suppose you also know that I’ve been missing? I’m in hiding. I don’t want any trouble.”

“How do I know you’re not bluffing?”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t be on the ground before you if this was planned would I?”

You opened your mouth to respond when a small voice spoke out. “C-Corazon? Is it safe to come out now?” You went rigid as you heard a child’s voice. Panic rose in Rosinante’s eyes as the voice rang through the alleyway. He looked at you, silently pleading. Is this why he had went missing? He had a kid? Well, if he had the kid, he’d probably call him ‘dad’ not ‘Corazon.’ What was going on?

Immediately, you uncocked your gun and hid it away. You weren’t about to let a child witness any kind of violence. The man before you looked surprised by your actions, but didn’t say anything. It wasn’t uncommon for some families to indoctrinate children at a young age to be a part of the ‘family business’. You were a prime example of that. For as long as you can remember, you were taught the ways of the family. That didn’t mean you thought it was right.

“N-Not quite, kiddo. Just wait a bit longer, I’m still checking.” Not once did he take his eyes off of you, wary of your presence; even without the gun. You didn’t blame him, you weren’t exactly on the same side and you had just pointed a gun at him. As far as he knew, you were enemies and you could pounce at any moment.

“I’m surprised you’re not trying to hold the kid against me,” he said to you tartly.

You narrowed your eyes at him, scoffing. “I’m not a monster. Kids don’t need to see the ugly side of things.” Your voice softened slightly without really realizing it. Rosinante’s face seemed to mirror yours as it softened as well.

“At least we agree on something.”

You stuck out your hand and he flinched, making you roll your eyes.“I’m trying to help you, moron.”

“Why?”

“Cause you’re no longer in this life, why would I hold your past against you? At least one of us got out.”

Rosinante looked at you for a long moment before tentatively reaching out, taking your hand. You helped him up, the man quickly towering over you. Fuck, you heard that some of them were fucking tall, but it was different being next to someone of such stature. He looked like he wanted to ask you something before the two of you were interrupted.

Coughing rang through the alleyway causing the man before you to go into a small panic as he took off. “Kid! I told you to stay inside!”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Is he sick?” you asked, following the other.

“What does it matter to you?”

“I can help. I’m a doctor,” you said with resolve in your voice.. Well, you were technically still in school, but you were his best bet in this situation. You weren’t about to let a small child die on your watch. He stopped, looking at you for a long moment. The coughing started up again along with the child weakly calling his name causing him to run over at a faster pace.

You felt your body move before you could process what was going on. Rosinante went down but you caught him right before he smacked his face on the pavement. “Careful. You can’t help him if you’re down for the count,” you lightly scolded. He just looked at you, shocked that you caught him. You helped him up once more and he stopped in front of one of the alleyway entrances.

You gasped at the sight. The child looked so small and frail - it was clear that he was very sick. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he was older than he looked. “What are his symptoms?” Rosinante quickly knelt down, catching the small boy as he fell from his coughing fit. You saw the bright red contrasting with his pale lips.

“We need to get him to the hospital. We can go to the one I work at I-”

“No, no hospitals. No one can figure it out anyway. I’ve taken him to every doctor in the region. I also don’t want anyone looking into us too much.” A deep frown set on the man’s features and you shook your head.

“You didn’t bring him to me.” You looked at him with determination in your eyes. “I will find out what’s wrong with him and I will help him.” Rosinante blinked as he looked at you. “Why?”

You shook your head. “I’m not going to let an innocent child die. It’s against my whole oath as a doctor.” The child coughed again, whining softly in pain. He looked from the child in his arms back to you before nodding. “Please help him.” The desperation in his voice hurt your heart, but you nodded back. “Let’s go.”

Once at the hospital, you were able to immediately check them into a room. The hospital you were currently at wasn’t the busiest hospital and it was currently slower hours anyway. Not to mention it also wasn’t flu season, so you didn’t have to worry about that either. It was a run down close to a shack kind of place.

It also helped that you were somewhat of a star pupil - you could do just about anything you wanted and no one would bat an eye.

After settling down in a room, you looked at Rosinante. “I’m going to need to run several tests. I’m going to have you wait in the waiting room.” Panic rose in his eyes and he was about to protest when you held up your hand. “If I wanted to kill him or use him against you, I would’ve done it already. I would never hurt a child, know that if nothing else about me. Also, I don’t need a hovering parent. It drives me fucking insane.” You rolled your eyes at the last part. Nothing annoyed you more than helicopter parents. You were the doctor, not them.

He seemed to mull over your words before finally resigning.

Now you could do what you needed.

You gathered all the samples you needed and began to run tests. While you waited for results, you let Rosinante back into the room to sit with the patient. You never asked his name, planning on erasing all evidence that they were here to begin with. You didn’t need anyone coming around and snooping. The cameras around here were broken anyway; that worked in your favor.

As the results slowly came back, trying to figure out what was wrong with the child accompanying Rosinante was like an impossible puzzle. He would have symptoms of some things and when you thought you had your answer, another test result would prove you wrong. You were pouring over different case studies of less known illnesses. It was something you did in your pastime anyway.

Then you finally connected enough dots for a diagnosis. One result you had in reminded you of a case you had read not too long ago. It was a specific disease that attacked small children and could be deadly if not caught in time. There were only about a dozen or so cases pertaining to it too. You could only hope that it wasn’t too late.

“Can I talk to you in the hallway?” You looked at the tall man who hadn’t really left the small child’s side. He looked between you and him before nodding. He joined you in the hallway.

“I have some news.”

The blond’s face fell. “You couldn’t figure it out, could you?” He sighed. “It’s fine. I expected as such-”

“Pessimistic much?” You let out a small laugh and he looked at you, startled. He didn’t even let you so much as say a word before he started talking hopelessly. Though, you didn’t blame him. If he went so many places and they couldn’t figure it out, how could he have hope?

“Does that mean?” His eyes widened, hope shining through. You smiled at him, nodding. “I pulled two all nighters, but I figured it out.”

He scooped you up in his arms and spun you around. Your face immediately heated, starting to feel dizzy. “Oh this is wonderful! Thank you so much!”

“O-Okay, please put me down!” You felt sick being spun in circles like that. “Oh right. I apologize.” He set you down, beaming at you. “I can’t believe it. I had lost all hope. We traveled to all kinds of hospitals near and far. No one could figure it out. How did you do it?”

You shrugged. “My specialty is knowing too much about cases that have small numbers. You never know when you might need to know it.” You looked at him. “Seems my weird hobby came in handy, huh? Now, let’s talk treatment plan.”

Back in the room, you started administering the right, and very specific, medications, a certain diet while he was on said medication, and having Rosinante do certain exercises with him as well. Though, the tall man was clumsier than anyone you had ever met in your life. You ended up having to make sure you moved them to the small gym whenever they did the exercises because he kept running into everything. Sure, this hospital might have been run down, but you weren’t about to let him make it even worse.

It wasn’t long before there was improvement in his behavior. Color was returning to his face, he was coughing less and less, he seemed to have more of an appetite. And before you knew it, he was just fine.

You never once asked for the child’s name in the month you worked with them, knowing Rosinante wanted to keep this all under wraps. He wanted to be able to get out of here cleanly and you didn’t blame him.

Today, you were looking over his charts in the desolate hallway and the man peeked his head out of the room. You looked up at him, blinking. “Can I help you?” He slipped out, closing the door. “I just…want to thank you again.”

“You really don’t have to-”

“But I want to. You’ve done nothing but help me despite how we met. You’ve done so much for us without asking for anything in return. Even going as far as letting us get out of here without a trace.”

“You’re out of that messy lifestyle and I’m determined to help you with that. If I can’t get out, at least someone else can.” You made a face, shaking your head. If you couldn’t get out of this, you wanted to make sure someone else did. A small idea sparked in the back of your brain, but Rosinante quickly drew your attention from it.

“Before we go, am I allowed to know the name of our savior?”

The entire time you were working with him this past month, you never once gave him your name. You also kept your face hidden behind a facemask and hair in a bonnet. You just didn’t want to risk it. Your colleagues also steered clear as you pretty much threatened them all. You told them not to answer any questions about you either. At least no personal information. You didn’t want him to know who you were, not that you were even sure he would if you showed yourself.

Though, if he knew your name, he’d definitely know who you were.

“I think it’s best if you didn’t.” You shook your head. “It’s easier that way.”

“Fair enough.” He let out a long sigh, looking through the window and to the boy who was currently sleeping on the bed.

“You’re good to leave as soon as he wakes up if you want. We’re done with his treatment and he seems to be stable.” You paused. “I have one request.”

Rosinante nodded eagerly. “Anything.”

You shot him a look that read that you weren’t messing around. “Keep him out of that lifestyle.”

He blinked at your words before nodding. He smiled. “Of course. That’s the plan.”

You smiled through your mask, nodding back. “Good.”

He looked at you for a long moment before looking at your arm. “How’s it healing?” he asked.

You blinked, looking from him to your arm. You shrugged. “As good as a bullet wound can be, I guess.”

“Was that from the ambush you mentioned when we first met?” You nodded with a sigh.

“Who was it with? My family I assume? Why?”

You just looked at him, shaking your head. That was too much information still. He pursed his lips together, nodding. “Gotcha. Well, I’m glad you’re better. Thank you again for everything you’ve done for the both of us. I mean it.”

With that, he headed back inside.

#am i going to just make each chapter just 'heart' in other languages #yes yes i am #cause idk what the fuck else to do #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #donquixote corazon #donquixote rosinante #corazon x reader #corazon #donquixote rosinante x reader #rosinante corazon #rosinante x reader #am fics #sc

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