#as I said a lot of female rage as it should be uwu

[dmeblnche]

here we gooo ✨ bon appetit fjdbdbdbdj

[elitparadox]

Life Goes On~ (Pt. 4)

↳ miya osamu x f!reader

↳ fluff, comedy??

↳ 2.6k

↳ status: ongoing

↳ parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

You suddenly appear in haikyuu after watching the show for weeks now, and you’re trying to find a way out. Deciding to make the most of it, you learn from these talented volleyball players, cuz why waste an opportunity? You weren’t meant to fall in love with any of them, but with Osamu’s alluring formosity and talent, you can’t help but rethink your life that has led up to this exact moment.

It’s Sunday afternoon. During the span of two days, you tried to contact someone who could help you, but it was no use, because of course, no one believed your story. On the other hand, you became a little bit more acquainted with Osamu and his too-clean apartment.

Sighing, you turn away from your borrowed laptop as you focus on Osamu’s pencil that was writing unfamiliar calculus signs on his homework paper.

“Wait- what am I going to do?”

“Hm?” Osamu doesn’t turn around as he responds.

“Don’t I have to enroll in your school? Which is the nearest one, I suppose. The hours will pass by too slowly for my liking, and I must receive my education”

Osamu’s gaze lands on you. “You could contact the principal and ask if you could attend for a few weeks with an excuse.. You’re a… 1st year?”

“Yeah.”

Silence fills the room as the two of you brainstorm.

“I guess I could do that; do you know what the principal’s phone number is? And we’ll call as an unknown number. Can you lend me your phone?”

Osamu shrugs as he enters a password, opening the calling app to the principal’s number, and hands over his phone, fingers accidentally brushing yours, making the atmosphere a little awkward.

You press the call button after quickly switching the number identity, and someone on the other end answers.

“Hello?”

“Hi.” quick. make up a name. You fake a cough, changing your voice tone. “I’m Kagai Yinimi, Y/N’s mother. We recently moved to Japan, and I have not yet found a school fit for Y/N, but tomorrow is supposed to be the day she needs to go to school. Is there any way you could clear a spot for her?”

“Excuse me?”

You didn’t realize you just spoke English. Then it hit you. The whisper from your dream. This situation now. You’re a polyglot. (someone who can speak multiple languages fluently) You weren’t one before. So had haikyuu changed anything about you? But most importantly, why can’t you control it?

*ahem* go with the weird-everything-goes-her-way mom tone. “I’M TELLING YOU- Y/N NEEDS HER EDUCATION! COULD YOU PLEASE CREATE A SPOT FOR HER?? SHE CAN CATCH UP, AND, UM, SHE SPEAKS JAPANESE TOO!!”

During this whole time, Osamu was looking at you with a “what the heck are you doing” expression.

You shoot him a “come help me” glance.                                                          

Osamu takes the phone from you, alters his voice tone, and says, “Sorry. My, uh, wife can’t speak Japanese yet. But she’s saying that we just moved here, and Y/N, our daughter” *pauses* “-needs a school. Is there a spot for her?”

Silence first. But after about fifteen seconds, he responds.

“Yes. However, the prefecture needs more information about this, um, transfer student. How old is she?”

“15.”

“Parents name…”

So, after forty minutes, Osamu was finally able to enter you in the school.

You feel too grateful to the point that guilt eats at you for what Osamu’s doing for you, although he did have to tell the principal lies, but only because he doesn’t know you well

As Osamu ends the call, he turns around and asks “so what was all that? You can speak fluent English?” You stare at him quizzically. “Of course I can! Do you think I’m uneducated??”

He laughs, but you notice a hint of relief. “No. But why did you speak English to the principal even though you could’ve talked to him in Japanese?”

“Uh- I- the thing is, well, I’m not sure if this theory is accurate,” you said slowly, “but I think that if I talk too quickly, I speak English and if i speak a little slower like right now, I talk in Japanese” you shrugged. “I don’t really know”

Osamu looks confused for a second. You can hear him mutter “things are really weird right now”

“Mhm. Sorry, but it really wasn’t my fault that i’m in another dimension” like hell it wasn’t

He sighs slightly, then suddenly looks a little less pressured. How did he manage to change his expression so quickly??? uwu

“anyways, the principal says that tomorrow morning you can visit the main office and pick up your schedule. I could take you there-”

You cut him off. “Again, it’s ok; you don’t really have to do that- Uh, also, don’t I need textbooks? Once again, I apologize-”

“No,. it’s fine. Like I said, I’m glad to help- As for the textbooks, the teacher gives them out at the beginning of the school year, but you could ask the office tomorrow”

He smiles- a little weary, but still breathtakingly beautiful.

“Thanks again.” You feel an urge to hug him right then, but you don’t, instead walking back to your room. Because, after all, you need to return to your home and away from everything you’ve seen in these past few days.

Several more hours pass, lapsing into the night, and then morning. 5:30 A.M.

You yawn, stretching your arms and kicking the covers. Another day, another chance.

Wait- why was it nearly 5:30 in the morning? Didn’t Osamu say yesterday that school started at 7:50? It was way ahead of your usual wake time.

You hastily brush your teeth, untangle your hair as quickly as possible, change into your own clothes, and open the door, tiptoeing across the living room toward the other room to ask Osamu why his usual alarm was set so early in the morning.

But he’s already up, making breakfast. He turns around and notices you walking strangely about the living room.

Shoot.

You fake-cough and stand up straight, brushing off imaginary debris from your shirt. “Good morning? Um, also why is your- I mean my alarm set at this time?

“Because we have volleyball practice, remember? And you asked me for help. So it would be rather convenient to watch us practice.”

“Oh yeahhhh- I forgot. Sorry. By the way, do you live by yourself? I mean, without your parents or any siblings?”

Osamu nods, his eyes still focused intently on whatever he’s cooking.

“Okay. Uh, I was also wondering what people would think if you, um, suddenly came to school after a weekend with an, uh, immigrant, or whoever they think I am. You know what I mean?”

“Oh.” He seems thoughtful. “I could say you’re my cousin who’s staying at my apartment for around a year” He shoots a look at you. “Because, you don’t really know when you’ll be returning, right?”

You glance at the clock. It’s exactly 5:39 A.M.

“Yeah. So when does practice start?”

“You do ask a lot of questions, huh?” You can see the hint of a smirk on his cheek, making you blush. “At 6 A.M.”

“So then why are you packing a lot of food?”

“My lunch, remember?” Now he finishes preparing the light breakfast and lunch, turning around. “And yours too.”

You stare at Osamu for a little longer than usual, but quickly catch yourself, averting your eyes from his.

“Thank you again. I really don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t there to help me.”

You chuckle. It was such a lucky turn of events to meet him.

“Well, we only have around ten minutes to finish breakfast and clean up, so let’s hurry.” 

At approximately 6:00, you and Osamu enter a particularly large gym where a group of boys, the volleyball team, is warming up.

Whispers spread among them as they notice you following Osamu.

“Uh, ‘Samu? Who’s she?” A tall blond-haired boy, probably Atsumu, gestures toward you. 

Ah, so he wasn’t the flirting type that your friends like. Better tell them after you get back. If you even get back. If they would even believe you then.

“Oh, Y/N? She’s our cousin. She’s staying at my apartment”

You were pretty sure everyone on the team noticed the glare he shot at Atsumu. And you desperately wanted to climb under a rock and never come out. Nobody would believe that story now.

“Uh, well I’m only here to observe your practice. I just wanted to see everyone’s volleyball techniques and learn from there! Since I really want to advance my volleyball skills-” You cut in.

Your insides were shaking from the looks these tall boys gave you. You personally didn’t like the fact that people would view you as only Osamu’s cousin, but on the other hand, things could get fun.

“Sorry if I’m wasting everyone’s practice time. I- I should go”

“No, it’s fine.” A silver haired boy, whom you noticed was Kita, steps forward. “It’ll be nice to have someone watching and learning from our practice. And so that some people-” he shoots a glance at the twins “-won’t fool around.”

Ah. So he noticed how serious Osamu acted in front of you.

“Thank you.” You look down at your tattered shoes.

Although a few members of the team look at you cautiously, the others smile at you kindly.

As practice continues, you notice that there isn’t a female manager anywhere in the gym. Shaking your head, you focus again on the practice rally raging on. It was amazing how you had never known any sport that would involve so much shouting to cooperate and energy to race after the ball.

You were taking mental notes on volleyball techniques when a ball whizzed past you. You could literally feel the force traveling with the ball near your cheek. But then again, you were used to that stuff.

It bounced off the side wall and miraculously ended up beside your left foot. You picked up the ball carefully, checking for the brand name, and contented, threw it toward the next server. Atsumu. You had watched their routine, and it seemed that someone on the team or on the sidelines would retrieve the ball depending on where it was. So you had no worries of being judged. But all those thoughts vanished as Atsumu frowns at you.

And without even knowing the reason why he did so, you frown right back. It isn’t a big deal, but you decide that you would get over with Osamu’s twin brother right now. But then he smirks, averting his hazel eyes from you.

Out of the corner of your eye, a boy with weird dark hair turns away, clicking away on his phone.

“So what’s the deal with my brother?” Osamu asks as he leads you to the principal’s office at 7:20.

“Oh, nothing, just that he’s kinda rude?? And he doesn’t even know me! So why does he act like I’m his enemy? Wait- sorry I didn’t mean-”

“I agree.”

“HUh?” You looked at him, slightly amazed. “Oh yeah. You fight all the time.” No surprise there. “Welp, let’s see if we have any classes together in my new schedule”

Two minutes later~

“crot this” you mutter under your breath. “What am I supposed if I only have one class with you? If someone bullies me, I won’t make it out alive!!” you complained, voice lowering by the second as students nearby shoot looks at you. You could only imagine what they were thinking that had something to do with the new student, you.

“You’re exaggerating. It’s okay though, you have a class with Kita and two with Atsumu”

“oH okay, so you’re saying I have to put up with him??”

“Ignore him” He shrugs, indifferent about your so-called situation.

“Okay....”

The first part of the day went by fine. Except for some skeptical and often rude looks thrown in your direction, the teachers seemed kind and schoolwork was a breeze.

Holding the lunch Osamu prepared for you in a paper bag, you walk tentatively toward an empty table when you hear a voice behind you.

“Why don’t you come eat with us?”

You don’t need to turn around because Osamu’s already walking next to you.

“Maybe the others won’t feel comfortable? After all, I’m a stranger who randomly appeared in their school gym to watch them just practice?? Sounds suspicious, even to me. By the way, why did you lend me a room in your apartment? I bet others wouldn’t have, out of fear that they’ll be murdered or whatever”

Osamu stays silent for quite a while, and you two are nearing the volleyball team’s lunch table. You’re wondering whether you should apologize, but he says coolly, “That’s a good question. Although this might not make any sense, I invited you to stay because from the moment I saw you, a small voice in my mind said to help you” He shrugs. “It actually happened, believe it or not. How things have gotten weird these days”

Your mind’s racing for the nineteenth time today as you sit on a metal chair between Osamu and the dark-haired boy, Suna.

You don’t realize that you’re staring blankly into space until Osamu snaps his fingers in your face and says “Aren’t you going to eat your lunch?”

You shake your head to clear up your thoughts. “Yeah. Right.”

You pull out a recyclable container from the lunch bag, fumbling with the lid holds.

It was then all hell broke loose. 

And everything from here seemed like a movie on 2x speed.

You accidentally knocked down Osamu’s thermos/bottle, which was still open, and coffee spilled all over his lap and the floor.

You desperately grabbed some napkins and tried to clean up the mess while students from the other tables were bending over backwards to memorize this scene well, because it’s not every day someone spills water over someone’s lap and there’s chaos brewing in a normal high school. 

Suna was capturing the whole thing on camera, and Atsumu- well, Atsumu he actually was trying to help. 

But of course, that went wrong, because he somehow slipped on the floor drenched with water and landed flat on his back. 

Then a bunch of girls ran over one another to help him, and a teacher nearby rushed over to smooth things out. 

You figured that everything would be fine, because after all, it was a small accident, but some idiot decided it would be funny to throw his burger right in your face. See where I’m going with this? People shouldn’t follow this action, except: monkey see, monkey do. And humans are connected to monkeys, apes, whatever. So, just like in a cheesy cliche movie clip, a food fight commenced.

Fast forward a couple more minutes after lunch ends…

You sigh, rubbing your forehead. You’re seated in the principal’s office on a firm wooden chair next to Osamu, half-listening to the principal’s lecture.

“First day of school and...blah blah... due to inappropriate blah blah, you are suspended-”

The moment your brain heard and processed the word “suspended” your defense mode activated and you started to protest about how it wasn’t your fault and people shouldn’t suppose that you’re a troublemaker just because it’s your first day of school here

The principal sighs. “I understand, but since we don’t have a janitor, you and the other kid-” he nods at Osamu “- will kindly clean up the mess.”

You sink in the chair, your hopes deflating by the second. “Okay.” A second later, Osamu nods in acquiesce. It would be a hard day tomorrow.

The principal seems to read your mind because he adds, “Oh- and you two start today.”

reblogs are always appreciated! thank you for reading :)

[vesuviannights]

As a request I don't have anything super specific in mind but I'd love to see you write something involving a Lucio/Valerius/AFAB MC threesome with #32.

uwu

IT’S DAY 5 BUT ACTUALLY DAY 6 BECAUSE I’M FUCKING LATE OF POLY WEEK!

Valerius/You/Lucio. Female reader (she/her pronouns used). Lemon.

A week after you were lured to Valerius’ chambers, you receive an invite to an exclusive gathering at the palace, where you watch Lucio and Valerius shamelessly flirt with the guests and each other while you seethe - a little drunk, a lot jealous - in the corner. As it turns out, the Count and his consul are more than happy to prove their affections for you while fucking you senseless.

Prompts: “Please come inside me, I want to feel it dripping out of my pussy.”

[Part One | Part Two | Part Two-point-five | Part Three]

**

You haven’t, despite every harsh word you’ve had with yourself, been able to stop watching Lucio and Valerius for the 3 hours you have been sitting here. You’ve been watching them from your table in the corner, drink in hand (multiple, actually, you’re maybe just a little tipsy). And when you get tipsy, you tend to become a bit green.

It’s a gathering at the palace, for…city planning, or consuls, or foot fetishists, or something. You don’t care. The purpose of it was never the point. You had received the invite, you had showed up—and had almost immediately realised what a colossal mistake it had been.

Because once you were at a party in the Count of Vesuvia’s palace, surrounded by all the most important people and courtiers who whispered and gossiped and delighted in the suffering of others, it was impossible to leave without it being noticed.

And so here you are, forced to watch, forced to suffer, though after so many hours and so many drinks you are not sure which of your two suffering options you would prefer.

Lucio has been moving around the hall the entire night, mingling with the crowd, speaking to various guests – people from Nevivon, cities they wish to trade with, throwing his goddamn charming smirk at anything that bats its fucking eyelashes at him.

Placing his hands on shoulders.

Laughing at every joke.

Twirling locks of hair around his fingertips.

It’s pathetic.

Valerius hasn’t been much better, though. He’s been allowing it, following Lucio around with his wine glass in hand, a half-sneer on his face as he introduces the Count to each new guest that said Count then proceeds to practically throw himself at and propose marriage to.

You had caught Valerius’ eye just once during the hours you had been watching him; his half-sneer had become a full sneer, then. He’d barely kept contact with you for a second before looking off, stepping to the side so you could receive a full look of Lucio sidling up—laughing, smirking, batting his fucking eyelashes—all to someone whose resemblance to you was too striking, and too impossible to ignore.

And then you were burning, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and fury. Fury that they had invited you back. That you had accepted. That they were ignoring you so easily. That you hadn’t noticed it before, the way the Count and his consul linger a little too close, the adoring looks they throw each other when the other isn’t looking, the ease at which they lean in and murmur in the other’s ear, a secret only for the two of them.

Of course they were fucking.

Of course something was going on between them, but how had no one in this gods-forsaken city noticed it? And why had it been you that had been pulled into it, you that had accepted the invitation to the consuls quarters, and then been left with all the messy pieces?

You drain the remainder of your drink and shove yourself to your feet, only partially managing not to sway on them. You grasp your glass and throw one more furious look at the two of them before beginning through the crowd toward the bar.

The line is long, you can see it as you approach, and you are figuring out how to avoid that and still get your drink when a large hand grabs your elbow and pulls.

You yelp, the noise barely heard of the cacophony of the party; darkness envelopes you, then dim candlelight, and you realise you have been pulled into one of the anti-chambers sometimes opened to create additional room for party guests.

“How dare y-”

You cut your own furious, slightly slurred words off as you lock gazes with Lucio. He quirks an eyebrow at you as he gazes you over, eyeing every inch of skin almost casually as one might glance at a passing crowd. Light is dancing in his eyes as he tilts his head down at you, finally looking to your face. He chuckles, then turns his head slightly to call over his shoulder.

“Val, I think we might have found one who is even more jealous and possessive than you.”

You quickly rearrange your features, or at least try to appear impassive. You glance off, and when Lucio takes you by the chin—squeezing just a little too tight—and turns you back to look at him, it’s everything you have in you not to be spewing venom through your eyes and teeth.

“Oh, pet,” he sighs. His smile is the kind of soft you’ve only ever been allowed to see once. “There’s nothing to be jealous of, no people who would ever steal us away.”

You roll your eyes, and as soon as you do, Valerius has stepped up beside you, as though waiting for the moment you would. Anticipating it. He leans against the wall to your left, and with the pillar to your right and Lucio in front of you, you realise that you are trapped—and by the look in each of their eyes, very intentionally so.

Valerius’ eyebrow quirks, and you realise he’s waiting for something, for you.

“Well?” Lucio asks. He reaches forward to toy with a piece of your hair, curling it the same way he had been curling that wenches hair back in the hall, watching the movement of his fingers as he waits. You realise that Valerius is waiting for an answer, that he had asked a question.

“No?” You answer, more of a question to your voice than you’d hoped. Lucio almost seems to pout.

“No?” He repeats.

You backtrack. “…yes?”

Both of them laugh, and it’s so different to how they were laughing in company not even three minutes previous; Lucio’s is a little more high-pitched, he’s not even trying to cover it, and Valerius’ comes with a smile that reaches his eyes. Their true laughs. You feel your growling beast settle a little in your chest.

“Oh pet,” Lucio nuzzles into your neck, takes your hips and holds you there while he kisses you softly. You shiver against him, suddenly losing quite a lot of your steam.

“Do you really believe that we would leave you to rot in favour of someone else that had caught our eye?” Valerius says.

You can’t help it, it slips out, “Isn’t that what you did with Nadia?”

Lucio’s grip on your hips tightens, “We had an arrangement with Noddy, but she knew it would never last. Not the 3 of us together. But you and us…” He sighs softly into your neck, grazes his teeth along your pulse. “We could be forever. Eternal, if the world should ever let us.”

You still at his words, your eyes flickering to Valerius to watch his own reaction. He gives you nothing with his eyes, but instead reaches forward to brush his thumb along your bottom lip.

“Do you need us to prove it?” He asks. “Do you want us to show you how much we care? Do we need to dote on you, praise you, for you to truly believe it?”

You nod. Without thought, without hesitation, without apology, you jerk your head and breathe out a please.

Their response is just as immediate. Lucio steps away and Valerius steps in, scooping you up to carry you to the center of the room, where an ornate chaise lounge inlaid with gold awaits. He deposits you on it before settling behind you, allowing you to lean back against his chest between his legs. Lucio has swept off his jacket and laid it across the back of a nearby chair, and as he places a hand on each of your knees, his grin is that of the devil incarnate.

“You are perfect for us, little one,” Valerius murmurs to you, as Lucio parts your thighs and settles between them. “Perfect in every way. From the way you respond to every touch, to your wide eyes as you watch me fuck Lucio into submission like it’s the most glorious thing you have ever seen in your years of existence—even the way you seem to plot the murder of every person who comes within touching distance of either of us is so wonderful to watch.”

You bite your own tongue to stop yourself from biting out that they were the ones shamelessly flirting, that it wasn’t you overreacting, but it is exactly what they want—it is all exactly what they had planned for you to do, if their speed and matching smirks are anything to go by.

And so instead, you watch as Lucio presses a kiss to the inside of each thigh, and as the pointed fingers of his gloved hand press tiny pinpricks of pain into your skin. You hiss, and watch his shoulders roll in pleasure at the sound as he continues to kiss and lick and bite up the inside of your thighs until each is parted as far as you will allow, and he is able to run a finger down you—completely bare, no undergarments since the moment you had arrived at the palace that evening.

Lucio chuckles at this. “You’re too good to us,” he murmurs against you, before gently parting your folds and inhaling.

He groans. Presses his lips to your clit. You whimper, you shake, and it hardly seems fair that neither of them seem as affected as you.

Though you suppose that neither of them have the disadvantage of being more than a little tipsy and having watched you flirt shamelessly while they filled with green, bubbling rage that had, somehow, managed to turn them into a shaking mess who just wanted to be loved, praised, shown that they were the only one who mattered.

“Talk to me, little one,” Valerius croons into your ear. “What will make you feel better and less of a petulant, jealous little mess?”

You are only vaguely aware that he has undressed your top half, leaving your clothes bunched around your waist. His hands are cupping and rolling your breasts while his lips suckle spot after spot onto your bare shoulder and neck.

“Tell me what you feel,” you gasp out. Both hands are in Lucio’s hair, gripping tighter and tighter the louder Lucio’s lapping tongue and moans become as he eats you out. “Both of you, what you really feel. Don’t lie.”

Valerius makes a thoughtful noise, almost as though he weren’t expecting such an answer. But, as Lucio slips a second finger into you and begins to gently stretch and coax you apart, Valerius does not try to step around it, and it’s the Count himself who seems the most greedy to give you his words and affections in between his crooking fingers and sweeping tongue.

“You, my wondrous magician, my sun and stars, my sweetest poison,” Lucio coos to you, his voice low in his chest. “Are everything I could have hoped for myself, for us.”

Your cheeks heat at his words, despite them being nothing but what you asked for, no lewdness or filth to them. He looks up at you as he slips a third finger into your aching pussy, your swollen clit caught between his lips, and you whine out his name in a pitch almost too high to hear.

You hear him curse under his breath, followed by the faint noise of his zipper before he takes himself in his hand with a groan. When he continues, his voice is strained.

“You give me all of my favourite sounds and sighs, and the fire I was watching burn inside of you tonight only made me want you so much more. To know that you want me, that I am important enough to you to make you want to tear heads and claw faces—that is by far my greatest achievement.”

Your chest is swelling, almost fit to burst, at his words. You feel a little of that snarling, green beast retreat back into the nastiest recesses of your mind, replaced by something that is greedy for every ounce of pleasure Lucio can give you, and then more.

After spending a few moments watching your face move through the motions, Lucio pulls back, and you whine in protest when he steps away to dig into his coat pocket. Valerius pulls you against his chest when you try to follow and keeps you there, his hand smoothing down your stomach to begin teasing you with his long fingers as you both wait for Lucio to return.

When he does, he’s holding something long and jet black in his palm. You flush at the sight of it, and he quirks an eyebrow at the response, glancing the vibrator over as he drops back into his place between your thighs.

“This, of all things, makes you blush?” He asks.

You try to roll your eyes again, but Valerius catches you again, your jaw caught in his hand as you try to turn your head away.

“Do you need to hear more?” Valerius asks you. His gaze drops down to your lip, caught between your teeth as you try to hide your growing smile.

“Maybe.”

Valerius grins—that same one that reaches his eyes and makes your brain blissfully numb for the first few moments it enters your vision—and takes your lips with his own. He kisses like he fucks, with slow, deep motions that have you quaking in his arms. He keeps you there long after he’s had his fill, tasting and tasting and tasting, not even letting you pull away to gasp when you hear the faint buzzing of the vibrator, or when you feel it pressing against your entrance.

“I suppose it is my turn to make you sigh,” Valerius murmurs against your lips, as Lucio begins to work the vibrator into you with short, shallow thrusts. It’s no bigger than either of them, but at the angle he has you and with the tenseness in your body, you feel almost too tight to take it.

Valerius’ fingers find your clit once more, drawing slow, lazy circles over it to help you along. Lucio shifts your hips forward just slightly, and together they seem to work you down enough to ease the vibrator inside of you completely, to the point where you can feel its buzzing in every inch of your pussy, causing you to twitch around it and whimper.

Valerius takes your lips again, then kisses along your jaw as Lucio begins to fuck you with long, deep thrusts. Valerius captures your earlobe between his teeth, biting down gently and rolling it there before he continues.

“I wish so very much I hadn’t used our first kiss to lure you,” he tells you. The admission makes you still, the soft way he says it—the slight catch in his throat, barely detectable—making you reach back and bury your fingers in his hair. He closes his eyes and moans, almost purrs, before continuing.

“If I could do it again, I would ask you with my words, and save our kiss for when you were sobbing for it, writhing above me and begging to be loved, just so I could taste your tears on your lips while I did it.”

You nod, though you don’t really know what for at this point. You can feel them in every inch of you, their affections and adoration and unspoken love.

Valerius, with his sighs against your sweat-dampened neck.

Lucio, grinning into the skin of your inner thigh, brushing his canines against it to make you shiver.

It’s almost too much for your human heart to bare, magic or not there seems to be no way for you to hold exactly what you had asked for inside of you, exactly what they had given without question or contest.

“Stop!” You whine as you writhe against Lucio’s ministrations, his hand as he furiously rubs at your aching clit, the vibrator as he fucks you with faster and faster strokes. “Please—please stop, I need you to fuck me!”

“And why is that?” Valerius asks, seemingly unable to keep that dominant edge from his voice at the mention of you wrapped around his cock.

“I—” You push Lucio’s hands away, and he surprises you by conceding. You blink at him, then glance down to his unbuttoned pants.

His cock is stiff in his hand as he pulls it with long, even movements. He is eyeing you like a fucking meal, like he could consume every inch of flesh that belongs to you and not ever be sorry for your screams of pleasure while he does it.

“I need you to come inside of me!” You gasp out.  “Pump your seed inside of me as I scream, mark every inch inside of me so I’ll always know I’m yours—I want to feel it dripping from my pussy, want you to stand back and watch until it’s all out. Give me your attention, your love, I want everything!”

In a movement you almost don’t catch, Lucio reaches down and yanks you forward by your ankles. Your back goes flat along the lounge, thighs spread wide for him at the edge as he lines his cock up with your aching pussy and thrusts inside.

You scream out as he fucks you, his fingertips bruising your hips as he groans and curses under his breath like a man deranged. You arch your back as he hits every sensitive part inside of you, stretches you out, makes you imperfect for anyone else but him.

“AH! FUCK, Lucio—” You cry out as his thrusts become shallow, uneven, desperate. He hunches forward, arms caging you as he nuzzles into your neck. “Come inside me, please, please come inside me I need it so much PLEASE PLEASE!”

He shudders against you and sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he comes, the feel of his hot seed filling your belly, coating your walls, making you delirious as you crash over the edge with him.

“Fuck—” He hisses into your shoulder, trying to sooth the mark his teeth left with his tongue, but in a matter of moments he’s just making another and another as he empties inside of you, body shaking from the strain of keeping himself up. “S—so good, oh little one, your pussy feels so good when it’s milking my cock, it’s the most perfecting fucking thing in the world.”

You whimper against him as your orgasm recedes, leaving you weak and a little heady. Lucio pulls out of you, whimpering and whispering into your ear, thanking you for letting him fuck you, for letting him come inside of you.

“Sit up, little one,” Valerius says. He offers out a hand, and he helps you shift over onto your hands and knees, your hips pressing up into the air with your chest to the lounge.

“What a spectacular sight,” he murmurs.

You shift your hips, clenching the walls of your pussy as you feel Lucio’s seed begin to drip from it. It rolls across your swollen labia. Some of it drips out onto the plush fabric of the chaise. A line trails down the back of one of your thighs. You turn your head to whimper into the chaise, and you hear Lucio give his own whine in response.

“Just let her sit there,” Valerius tells him softly. “You can clean her up with that filthy tongue of yours in a moment.” He pauses, then says with an almost malicious grin you can hear weaving its way through his words, “Or perhaps she can let it dry between her thighs while we speak to some more of our guests.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, your chest tightens. You know then, as the two of them watch Lucio’s seed drip from your pussy, that there was never any real danger.

There was no one else who they would take in your place. No other in the city, perhaps in the world, would entertain their desires with such recklessness. No.

Because there was no one else so sublimely fucked up, so exquisitely matched in their flaws, so perfectly suited to the two twisted young gods of Vesuvia, as you.

[hyphypmic]

Dice: Baby Girl

Thank you to the anon that suggested this!

—

Dice was many things, but a father to a young baby girl was really not what he expected to be.

He was just walking on the street, his stomach grumbling because of his simply insatiable appetite. He had just come from a meal with Riou and in theory, he should be full... but he isn’t.

He sighed and passed by a trashcan. It moved, the metal rattling against the pavement. He stilled and then back tracked a few steps. The trashcan wiggled again.

Well, he wasn’t above dumpster diving for sure. He stepped towards the trashcan and it let out a cry. Dice flinched and shouted, a few passerby giving him strange looks. Dice just smiled at them and rubbed the back of his neck.

He stepped forward again and looked inside.

It was a baby. It was crying softly and shifting around in her dirty pink blanket.

Dice’s hands tightened around the rim of the trashcan as he looked around, a slight rage simmering in his eyes. No one should abandon a child like this... especially not in the trashcan.

Dice looked back at the baby and peeked under the blanket. Female then. His initial guess was correct.

The child looked to be maybe a couple of months old, given how soft she still looked. She barely had any hair on her head, but her eyes were wide and she continued to cry softly.

Dice’s heart cried out, and he didn’t care if people were staring at a famous rapper staring inside a trashcan. He’s done a lot worse, and he really didn’t give a fuck about everyone else.

The trashcan was filled with food, so it was a blessing that she wasn’t put in one filled with metal. She could have been cut, or her soft bones could have been broken.

The only unfortunate side effect is the smell. Dice crinkled his nose, noticing that there was another smell.

He reached in a picked her up, the baby letting out a cry. He held her close to him and rocked. “Shh...” He said and handled her as carefully as he could. “It’s okay...” He looked around again, even if he knew that the parents or parent or relatives were long gone.

He looked back to the baby, and he wiped away some of the grime with his fingers and his somewhat clean jacket. The baby clutched his fingers and had a small gummy smile on her face.

Dice smiled back and tickled her a little as he started walking.

He supposed he was supposed to bring her to the proper authorities then, there was no way he was going to be able to take care of her, considering that 90% of the time he just stays at Gentaro’s...

But that finger stayed clutched on Dice’s finger... so he couldn’t let go.

—

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Gentaro put down the bottle of milk, his own son sleeping in a different room.

Dice had burst into Gentaro’s apartment and without explanation, grabbed a bucket and went to the bathroom, making a lot of loud noises there, along with small bits of laughter.

Gentaro barely blinked because he’s somewhat used to Dice’s outrageous behavior.

But when Dice came out with a naked baby, that was when the brunette stood up.

Dice was sitting on the couch in front of the coffee table. “I couldn’t just leave her.”

“Yes but... in your care?”

Dice’s eyes flashed and Gentaro actually took a half step back. “I can’t leave her.”

Gentaro just nodded mutely, kind of reeling from the intensity of the look Dice gave him. He paused and bit his lip. “You can stay here as long as you want.” The author said softly.

Dice smirked a little and stroked the baby’s cheek. “As if I don’t already.”

Gentaro smiled at that and sat beside the blue-haired man. He gave Dice the bottle. “That’s true.”

“Maybe she could be friends with my son.” Gentaro added.

Dice gave him a side eye. “Is that a lie again?”

Gentaro touched the foot of the baby gently, a small smile on his face as he remembered when he too got attached to his own baby. “No. Not this time.”

—

“GENTARO WHERE IS SHE?!”

Gentaro crossed his arms and might have spooned way too much food into his own son’s mouth. “How do you loose a nine month old baby?!” Gentaro looked back at his son and wiped the excess food. “Sorry.” He said and kissed a chubby cheek.

Dice paced the room. “I didn’t lose her! I swear, she was in the crib, then I went to the bathroom and then the next thing I knew, she’s gone!”

Gentaro sighed. “Are you sure she didn’t fly?” Youta giggled, but Gentaro kept a straight face. “My son flew last week.”

Dice gripped Gentaro’s shoulders and shook him. “CAN BABIES FLY?!” The gambler actually looked out the window.

“No, that’s a lie of course.” The author cocked his head. “But you were in the bathroom for a while…”

“She can’t move that fast!”

Gentaro blinked. “Ramuda actually said that he left. I heard the door close and all.”

“Yeah, I said bye before I went to the bathroom.” Dice growled and took his phone out of his pocket. His eyes widened.

“What?” Gentaro asked.

Dice straightened up. “WHAT THE HECK?!”

Youta and Gentaro blinked.

“RAMUDA HAS MY DAUGHTER?!”

“Ah…” Gentaro muttered as he gave Youta water. “So that’s what he meant by he’ll take care of her.”

“YOU KNEW?!” Dice growled out.

Gentaro shrugged. “I wasn’t really paying attention.”

Dice let out a frustrated shout before running into the door then opening it. He ran out.

—

He burst into Ramuda’s studio to find Ramuda taking pictures of his daughter.

“Hewwo Dice!” Ramuda waved cheerfully, ignoring the sweaty panting man. “I just made some clothes for your daughter!” Ramuda picked her up and held her out. “She’s sooo cute I couldn’t resist!”

Dice couldn’t move fast enough and he took his daughter back in his arms. “You can’t just take Chiaki without permission.” Dice growled out and checked out Chiaki, who genuinely looked pretty pleased and happy.

Ramuda looked taken aback, but he pouted. “Ehhhhh but she’s so cuteeeeee~”

Dice narrowed his eyes and held out Chiaki. He looked at the beautiful pink dress Ramuda put on her. It was lighter than Ramuda’s hair and the skirt was tulle with glitters on it. There were flower designs on the top along with a big bow at the back. She also had a big bow on her head too.

“Ah well…” Dice couldn’t deny the smile that was creeping on his face as he looked at his daughter, all dressed up in those clothes. “She is… very cute.” He growled at Ramuda again. “But that still doesn’t give you the right to kidnap-“

Ramuda gasped exaggeratedly. “Kidnap? I would never!”

Dice sighed, knowing he was losing the battle anyway. He looked at the clothes again. “It is… very beautiful.”

Ramuda huffed and gave a peace sign. “I only give my best!” He put his hands on his hips. “It’s for my baby line, and I can always give bigger sizes if she gets bigger.”

Dice sighed again and set Chiaki down on Ramuda’s love seat. “I can’t possibly pay-“

Ramuda giggled. “No it’s fine!” He went to Chiaki with surprising speed and blew a raspberry on her cheek. She giggled and at this point, Dice’s anger was fading to a dull throb. “She can be my testing model and all for my clothes.” He smiled at Dice. “And you get to keep the prototypes!”

Dice blinked rapidly. “Eh? Well uh…”

“I gain from it with a new model, and you gain from it with clothes.” Ramuda hugged Dice and nuzzled. “Don’t you think that’s a good idea uwu?”

Dice pushed Ramuda off. “Uh… yeah… I guess so…. But please tell me instead of stealing her.”

“Okiiiii~” Ramuda laughed then gleefully picked up Chiaki again and started taking pictures.

Dice smiled as he watched Chiaki laugh at Ramuda’s silly faces. She was simply glowing. Dice thought back to months ago when she was so skinny and in the trashcan, a month old or so… or back when he had to file an official thing and they almost didn’t let him keep her, if it weren’t for Ramuda’s connections and Gentaro’s skill with words.

Dice felt his eyes prickle and he crossed his arms and sat on the floor.

His heart completely full.

[serenagaywaterford]

'#i am so upset at tht about this lol #(mostly cos yeah reality is that. but i'm watchign fiction dudes. gimme some character journeys. gimme development. gimme hope. #this flatline they have serena on just isn't good storytelling. straight up.)' -- i agree. & the idea i hate the most is that moss & the tht crew might have had a boner over whitford joining them & decided to give him what could have been serena's arc. the architect of the damn colonies can turn out decent but serena can't. GOT IT

“the architect of the damn colonies can turn out decent but serena can’t. GOT IT”

this is probably what drives me the most mad about the choices they made for characters in s3. lawrence literally–unequivocally and by his own admission as well as multiple other characters–created THE FUCKING COLONIES: prison labour camps where ONLY women go to suffer excruciating pain and rot from disease and DIE. he also, unarguably and explicitly, created THE ENTIRE ECONOMIC SYSTEM on which gilead relies on for its propagation and survival.

without HIM, gilead would NOT exist. and this isn’t a little thing. it’s like, it literally would have fallen apart without his massive contribution. (sure, maybe they would have found another genius economist with a penchant for brutal misogyny but as it stands, they didn’t have one. and HE STILL helps gilead survive.)

but uwu, he makes jokes and doesn’t do the ceremony and loves his wife so WHAT A GREAT GUY! LET’S GIVE HIM A RELUCTANT REDEMPTION ARC!!!!

i fucking loathe him. and he was shown multiple times even in s3 what he thinks of ALL women, and that isn’t fucking much. he’s gross. “i love my wife” YEAH sure buddy. fuck you. if you truly loved her, you wouldn’t have created an entire system where she gets fucked right over to the point she kills herself. cool beans, dude.

s3 was all about lawrence and june being reluctant allies and her working her dumbass moves on him, and that bullshit handholding at the funeral FOR THE WIFE THAT JUNE BASICALLY KILLED??? please just let me vomit in my mouth a bit.

he is not a good guy. he is not a nice guy. he does not like women. he does not care about them. he’s a pathetic little misogynist that she looks out for himself. but omg look how conflicted he is about the ceremony!!! UWU PRECIOUS BEAN, TOO PURE FOR THIS HORRIBLE WORLD!!

it’s like fandom/the showrunners are just salivating over male characters to woobiefy.

meanwhile MEANWHILE there’s a female character, the second most developed character on the entire show with the second most amount of screentime (prior to mid s3 anyway) and already a foil to june and “villain”esque character theoretically capable of change, but hey, no. let’s ignore the entire trajectory serena was on for the latter half of s2. let’s even ignore early s3 and all that set up. let’s just FUCKING FLATLINE her and make her 100% obsessed with a baby. it’s not like that storyline was already wrapped up in s2 and she’d moved on by early s3.

all so june could have some ~exciting plot of winning over lawrence and oooooh look it’s bradley whitford. what a great guy. he’s so funnieeeee and nice. 

it really does feel like they aborted serena’s arc for the sake of inserting whitford into what should have been serena’s journey of gradually coming to terms with her involvement in gilead, her own overwhelming guilt about her involvement (which i would like to point out is LESS than lawrence’s contributions. just so we’re all on the same page). and i know miller has said he “doesn’t believe in redemption arcs” (bullshit. that’s pure bullshit. they exist whether you believe in them or not, for one thing.) but lawrence’s character has been doing EXACTLY that. and all the fandom is frothing about how amazing he is blah blah blah. fucking miss me with that. i will NEVER root for a man who has done that to women and is a KEY player in gilead. he didn’t just help invent it, he CURRENTLY still sustains it. he seemed to have little concern for ANYBODY even at the beginning of s3. yet still he’s a hero. (at least the character is like “oooh i’m not a hero” which kinda sounded totally insincere to me. the same way people throw pity parties for themselves.)

but god forbid a problematic female character portrayed by a fantastic (but lesser known) actress gets the same generosity. and what’s even crazier is that the audience was generally in favor and excited about serena joining june in the resistance prior to s3, and even in the beginning episodes of s3. based on social media anyway.

but no……….

i just….

it infuriates me how they chose to give what could have been a decent character arc for serena to lawrence instead (and to take that from yvonne and hand it over to whitford cos he’s just so great. rolling my eyes so hard.). and everyone is just like “yasss king! we love you!! what great guy for saving those kids!!! yay redemption for lawrence! i love brad whitford so amazing give him an emmy!!!” 

i get they need to keep serena around and in some sort of conflict for june. 

actually no. i don’t get it. i don’t think it’s necessary at this point to have a female adversary of that degree for june. i think she could easily be a complicated/conflicted ally, or at least not a direct enemy of june’s. the SYSTEM is evil enough and produces enough conflict on its own. june no longer needs the personification of it and neither do we. just… ugh. stagnating the MOST complex character on the show (fight me. serena as a character was more complex and dynamic than june.) for the sake of throwing her in some stupid sideplot that had nothing to do with the protagonist, and made her entire story arc stall into a dead stop was a dumbass fucking move. the whole fred thing dragged her the fuck down cos there was zero acknowledgement or exploration of the actual dynamic of the domestic abuse cycle which was PLAINLY visible in early s3. instead it was just NICHOLEEEEEE!!!!! GIVE ME BABBY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MUST HAVE BABBY!!!!!!!!!! every single character motivation serena had in s3 was a fucking sexist trope about women and baby fever. (not that they wrote june much better but this rant is about the shit they pulled with serena.)

there is no depth to any conflict anymore. and what drives me even crazier is that the few scenes with june and serena are still 100 times more interesting because of the pre-existing chemistry and dynamic they still have. but instead we’ve just got the same fucking scene of june/lawrence over and over for 8 episodes. “ooh is he a friend or foe? oh i will manipulate him! he is an ally! oh maybe he’s a foe, or friend, or foe, or friend?! who cares!! look how he lubs childrens! uwu!!”

they seem absolutely intent on keeping serena a villain, to the point of total irrationality. and the only way to do that is strip her character of any nuance and give her a singular and stupid motivation and pair that with a really boring and flat subplot. cos, organically, the character WOULD develop and learn and change, but since they’re fucking obsessed with not giving her anything even resembling “redemption” for some bullshit reason, they’ve thrown her entire narrative arc under the bus and just left her there.

and people wonder why i have no interest in s4. it’s cos of this shit. why the fuck would i be interested in watching yet another season of serena doing fuck all? (ooh a trial? BORING and guaranteed to make no rational sense. back to gilead? what for?! they’re never going to let her change/grow anyway!)… and june being painted as some saint and saviour, despite being not that much better anymore. and Lawrence being lauded as a goddamn hero for doing the very fucking bare minimum for no real discernible reason we’ve seen other than june’s oh so amazing ~wiles. like please.

i can’t stand june anymore. i fucking loathe lawrence (to me, he’s just nick 2.0). i don’t care about fred. moira and emily who? and am butthurt about what they’ve done to serena’s character journey (and can’t see that changing if miller, moss, & co. are so itnent on keeping her “evil”). so s4 doesn’t seem that fun to me.

and the fact everyone seems to have a hard on for whitford, including cast and crew just makes me angry. sure, give this dude all the good shit. take it away from the amazing female actors and just give it to him. why not? THT is male-run anyway and IT SHOWS. he should have been a minor character, not the focus next to june. (don’t even get me started on how fiennes gets second billing in the credits before yvonne cos i am so livid every single time i see taht.)

whatever, THT. whatever. bye. ugh.

wow anyway that was a rant i didn’t expect to make. thanks anon for drawing that out. i think i’ve been sitting on it a while lol.

i have a lot of rage.

[killjoy-loveit]

Reality is Twofold- Pt. 3

A/N: I would like to clarify that everything written in this story is complete fiction and isn’t to be taken as a true portrayal of reality. Honestly… I love this request! It really pulled me in and was like ‘this is how you’re going to write it!’ This is the third part, you can find the link to the first two parts (as well as my masterlist links) in the notes. There will be a part 4 because I thought it might be better to split it! I hope you enjoy it!!

Request: Yes, hello. I’m coming on anon for this request merely because I’m too shy, but I’d like to request a one shot or scenario - whichever you prefer, please :’) Female reader, any POV that you prefer, with Winner’s Mino, and for the trope - angst/smut, annnnnnnnd a mafia au if you’re okay with that, please and thank you. I’m so sorry if this is a lot; I don’t ever request fics, but I love your writing too much uwu

Word Count: 2,184

Genre: Angst, Mafia AU

*****WARNINGS: Violence, Depression, Blood, Mentions of Death*****

     Everything is dark. The lights have been turned off since this morning, yet I don’t have it in me to get up and turn them on. Maybe I can hide here in this darkness. Contemplate life and exactly what it is I’m doing. How long can I keep wallowing? Or pretending like I’m okay when I’m not? His words play like a record in my head, always repeating. Followed by flickering images of him walking out the door. Haunted by what could have been, if only I had pushed my fears away. Fear and cowardice. The two things that have robbed me of something ripe with the potential to bring me happiness. 

     Turning to my side and pulling the comforter up to my chin, the calico plush toy comes into my field of vision. Sat in the corner of the room by my closet. Those dark plastic eyes boring into me, carrying such heavy judgement for an inanimate object. But what does it know? It doesn’t have any feelings, no memories, no pain. If it did it might not be staring at me so harshly. Although Eun-Ji gave it to me and she had all of those things. Along with a pure spirit, one that could only be properly defined as effulgent. The world Eun-Ji belonged to didn’t fit her in the slightest, and at the end of it all this discrepancy is how she lost her life. 

     I know what she’d say to me, “It never hurts to try!” Her eyes would crinkle at the corners, almost disappearing as she smiled before continuing. “You deserve to be happy!” But things were never as simple as Eun-Ji made them out to be. Pulling myself free of the comforter and bringing myself to my feet, I tread over to the corner where the plush toy sat. Slipping down the wall beside it, I join the toy on the floor. If the toy were alive, would the hardwood floors be just as cold to it? Head falling lightly to the side, I pull my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms lightly around them. 

     Only the moon lights up the room, placing a spotlight on this corner. It only acts to point out the flaws that marr the toy now- the blood stains it got months ago. I’ve tried, over and over again, to remove the blood that splattered on it. Nothing worked, over twenty methods utilized and still the blood remained. Now it feels symbolic, almost like the toy represents me and no matter how hard I try, I can never escape my reality. I wish the blood would just wash away.

     My arms release my legs letting them fall to the floor. Picking up the toy, I bring it up to my chest, hugging it tightly. Tears fill my eyes, turning the world into a blurry mess. Everything is always a mess, so contorted and twisted beyond imagination. This mess, so bloody and consuming, fuels a fire feeding the madness of danger paired with euphoria. A danger that rips loved ones from our grasps because this is the life we chose, or rather born into in my case. Fury burns through my veins as images of those that were lost linger in my mind. The plush toy in my hand feels like poison, seeping into my skin. As my arm shot out, launching the stuffed cat away from me, a pained scream forced itself past the lump in my throat. 

     “I don’t feel good about this.” I murmur to Juwon, eyes scanning the parking garage we were standing in. There was something in the air, the atmosphere felt wrong, tinged with a feeling of danger lurking. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that there should have been more cars in this parking structure. Or maybe it was the brisk chill in the air that had me tugging my sleeves down to cover my hands. 

     “It’ll be over soon sis. We just gotta wait ‘til my guy shows, he said he had some top tier intel on this new gang that’s encroaching on our turf.” Juwon says quickly, shifting from foot to foot. 

     Despite his words, he seemed just as jumpy as I did. He might not admit it because he likes to put on a brave face, but he must be noticing the ominous feeling lingering in the air. Minutes ticked by excruciatingly slowly, my footsteps fell softly on the concrete as I paced anxiously. 

     My voice is harsh when I turn to question Juwon. “Why did you even bring me? You know I’m technically just a numbers person.” 

     His eyes lowered to the concrete floor. “You’re a better shot than me and I couldn’t bring one of the guys. They tend to act first and think later, you think on your feet and you have faster reflexes.”

     “Great, there’s a potential for things to go wrong!” I groan, throwing my hands up in frustration and walking away from him. After taking a deep breath I turn back to him, my voice lowering significantly. “If getting this info is that dangerous then maybe this should be a gig for more than the two of us.”

     “The guy we’re meeting said that he wouldn’t give out the info if there were more than two people here.” Juwon muttered and turned his head away from me. A second later he crossed his arms and let out a small breath.

     “And that didn’t seem fishy to you?” I question, panicked. Juwon shook his head slowly. “We need to get out of here, this is a trap.” I say quickly. 

     The ice-cold fear wrapped itself around my being as I rushed to the car. This is no info drop, it’s an old play I’ve heard too many times. From what I’ve heard in the past getting a small group together, two to five, from the opposing side and take them out by luring them with intel. It’s a relatively easy trap, as long as your targets don’t already know this tactic. Though it looks like someone forgot to inform my idiot brother of this.

     Yanking the car door open I turned to look at him, only to see him standing frozen in place with wide eyes. “What are you doing? Get in the fucking car, now!” I yell at him.

     An engine revving broke the frenzy jumbling my mind. It was too late, they’re here. “Get behind the car and don’t move. I’ll handle this.” 

     Juwon shook his head. “No, let me help. This is my fault.”

     “You brought me here because I’m a good shot and you aren’t, so hide right now or I swear to all that is holy that once we get out of this I will beat the living shit out of you.” I seethe, my jaw setting in the way that shows determination. 

     Juwon slipped behind the back of the car, ducking down to stay hidden. Not even a second after he hid, a black SUV with tinted windows pulled up to our level. Cautiously I grazed the top of my gun with the side of my hand. I couldn’t act prematurely or they’d know that their plan had failed. Seconds ticked by slowly as I waited for them to get out of the car. Four guys stepped out of the car at almost the same time and I felt my heart freeze in my chest. No matter how good a shot I am, taking out four guys before they could take me down would be a stretch.

     A man with dark shades on, hair slicked back, and a small silver chain dangling from his neck stepped forward. By the air he gave off it seemed he was in charge. A mischievous smile formed on his face as he lowered his shades. 

     “You’re not the guy I spoke with on the phone, babe.” 

     Bile rose in my throat. “I was sent in his place. Did you need him here specifically?”

     The man shook his head, leading the other guys forward until they were five feet from me. “Nah. But since he ain’t here, plans might have to change a ‘lil bit. Whatchu think about that boys?” He chuckled, gesturing to me while tilting his head slightly at his men.

     In this second they simultaneously stepped forward, lecherous grins on their faces. What he meant circled in my head and I knew in that moment that I needed to kill them. Instantly I grabbed my gun from its holster, aiming it at the leaders head. The men halted in their places, looking to their boss for orders.

     “Back off now. This doesn’t have to end badly, just walk away now.” I state. However confident I dared to appear, my nerves showed by the way my voice shook. 

     “You’re outnumbered babe, I don’t think threatening us will work. Besides, it’d be so much easier if you just came with us willingly. We’ll be good to you, promise.”

     A beat later I aimed my gun at the head of one of his lackeys, and before the shot echoed in parking deck my aim was back on the boss. The sound of the body hitting the ground was almost covered by the sound of the shot ricocheting around the parking deck. 

     “Leave now.” I held the boss’ gaze. Meaning I saw the shift in his eyes, from a dark playfulness to rage.

     “Little bitch, I was giving you the chance to go quietly. Not anymore.” He snarled, throwing his body forward.

     Luckily my reflexes were in good condition and I jerked out of the way just in time. Shots rang out, echoing around us. A bullet grazed the side of my ear before embedding itself in the concrete column just by the car. Pulling my gun back up I aim at one of the men closest to me and pull the trigger. Once he hits the ground I change my aim to the last remaining lackey and shoot. Now it’s just me and the leader. I scan the parking deck frantically, he’s ot of sight but he’s still here because his car is right where it was parked. 

     “Looking for me?” 

     I hear his voice seconds before I’m yanked back by my hair and the gun was wrenched from my hands. His face is contorted with rage as he glares down at me. The gleam in his eyes shines in the most dangerous way, there’s no doubt in my mind that this man has tortured people before and enjoyed it. This man would do the same to me.

     “Let me go.”

     He laughs sadistically. “Not happening, you just killed three of my guys. You’re coming with me.”

     The man drags me by my hair for a few feet, but I don’t make it easy on him. Fingers acting like claws as I swipe at him and try to regain my footing in order to fight properly. At this point the fact that Juwon was here had completely slipped my mind, that is until he moved. I watched in terror as he stood, moving out from behind the car with his gun raised. It happened in slow motion, like one of the movies. One minute he was standing there, his mouth set in a thin line showing his determination, gun aimed at the guy dragging me. I scream at Juwon to get back down but he doesn’t listen, instead taking a step forward. He pulls the trigger but he was too late. The leader holding me shot first and I could do was watch as Juwon collapsed, his shirt quickly turning a dark shade of red.

     Something in me snapped upon seeing this, adrenaline surged through my body. Jerking myself free from the grasp on my hair, I spin on my feet and deck the man. I deal a swift kick to one of his knees and pull my gun from his grasp. After the gun is in my hands I don’t waste a second before shooting. Fear, pure and heavy, rushed my movements as I hurried over to where Juwon laid on the ground.

     Uncontrollable sobs wracked me when I dropped to the ground beside him. “What were you thinking?” I place my hands on his stomach, pressing down in a futile attempt to slow the blood flow. “Come on, don’t you dare think about dying on me.”

     Juwon’s blinked slowly at me, eyes unfocused and hazy. “I-I’m sorry,” He drew in a deep shaky breath. “I messed up… My fault.”

     “No, no, you have nothing to apologize for. You weren’t ready to work on your own, they messed up.” Tears trickle down my cheeks.

     “You’re… A good sister.” His eyes fluttered shut and he whispered one last thing, “I love you.”

     “I love you too.” I whisper.

     I can’t watch people die anymore. Not people I love, not my family, not strangers. This isn’t something I can do any longer. Maintaining my sanity in this small sphere of the world isn’t possible. I have to get out. No matter what.