#hitman imagine

[allthingsfangirl101]

A Little Over Protective Part 2 – Gary Johnson

Part 1

After I finally told Gary about Peter, he refused to let me go to work. He ended up calling into my work this morning, claiming that I was throwing up all night. We spent the entire day coming up with a plan. Gary wanted me to quit my job. I wanted him to trust me.

I spent the entire day with his arms wrapped around me. Whenever I stood up, Gary jumped. I couldn't even go to the bathroom without him panicking. That night, we had a long talk about me working around Peter. It took me promising him that I would text him all day, call him as much as I could, and I'd let him know if Peter did anything before he was okay with me going to work the next day.

I woke up the next morning to Gary's arms wrapped tightly around me. I looked over my shoulder to see him cuddling into me. I gently started to get out of bed but laughed when he didn't let me.

"Gary," I whispered. He just moaned. "Sweetie, I need to get ready for work."

"No," he pouted as he cuddled into my shoulder.

"Baby," I sighed.

"You can't go to work if I hold you hostage," he said in a sing-songy voice.

"Gary," I said, "we talked about this."

"I know," he said, sitting up and pulling me with him as he leaned against the headboard. "That doesn't mean I have to like the idea of you going."

I leaned up and pressed my lips to his. Gary deepened the kiss as he laid us back down with him hovering over me. He broke the kiss with a soft moan.

"I love you, baby girl," he said. "I just want to make sure you're safe."

"G," I sighed, sitting back up. I made him smirk as I straddled his hips. "You have always made sure I was safe. Even when we were kids, you protected me. Remember when we were eleven and you found out I walked home from school? You started walking home with me."

"And knowing that you're going to work where you will possibly be in danger makes me feel like I'm failing."

I gently grabbed his face, rubbing his cheeks with my thumbs. "I am not going to be in danger at work, baby."

"You work with a guy that won't leave you alone," he said, looking deeply into my eyes.

"Yes, but I come home to a man who loves me and won't let anyone hurt me," I reworded. I leaned in and kissed his pout. When we broke the kiss, he sighed.

"Fine," he gave in. "But I want to know the second he looks at you wrong."

"And what?" I teased.

"And I will set him up for hiring me to kill your boss."

* * * * *

I walked back to my desk after my meeting to see Gary leaning against it.

"There's my girl," he smiled as he walked over to me. Before I could say anything, he wrapped me in his arms and kissed me.

"Gary," I said, pushing him off of me. "I'm at work. What are you doing here?"

"What?" He laughed, wrapping his arms back around my waist. "I just wanted to take my girl to lunch."

"Baby," I sighed, grabbing his arm and pulling him to the break room. "I know that you're worried about me being here with Peter walking around, but I'm careful. Whenever I see him coming, I go the other way."

"That's not how it should be," he said, pulling me into his chest.

"Gary," I started.

"You shouldn't be scared to come to work."

"I'm not," I tried to reassure him as I pressed my hands to his chest. "I promise, baby. I'm not scared to come to work."

"I don't like the idea of him hovering around you all day."

"Baby," I soothed, "I promise, if something happens, I will run to you right away. I'll leave work, find you, and run into your arms."

I felt him let out a sigh of relief as I wrapped my arms around him. He instantly wrapped his arms around me. I looked over his shoulder to see Peter watching us. I turned my head and cuddled more into his chest.

"You said something about lunch?" I asked, trying to get him out of the office before he saw Peter.

He pulled out of our hug and gently kissed me. "Lead the way, gorgeous."

Gary's POV

Even though I told Y/N I was fine with her going back to work, I wasn't. Every day I kissed her goodbye, I wanted to hold her so she'd never leave. I wanted to follow her to work, punch Peter in the face, and take her home. I hated the idea of my girl working with someone who made her feel uncomfortable.

If that bastard touches my girl, I will make sure that Y/N never works again. Instead, I will spend my entire life supporting her.

I sat on the bed and watched her get ready for work. She walked out of the bathroom and grabbed her jacket. I jumped up and grabbed her wrist, stopping her before she could leave.

"Would it be too ridiculous to ask you to quit?"

"Gary, we've been through this every day this week. . ."

"Look," I sighed, "I'm not saying this because I'm not proud of you. I am. I just don't like sending you off to work with this creep."

"Gary, sweetheart, you have nothing to worry about," she chuckled. "You come by every day and take me to lunch. With that and my schedule, I'm never in the office anymore."

She stood on her toes and kissed my cheek before heading out the door. I spent the rest of the day, researching a new client, but my mind remained on my girl working with her stalker. I found myself constantly checking the clock to see when it would be acceptable for me to take her to lunch.

As soon as it was reasonable, I grabbed my keys and headed to Y/N's office. I walked through the office, smiling and nodding at the few people I recognized.

I was just about to head to Y/N's office when I saw him. Unable to stop myself, I walked over to him.

"You must be Peter," I said through my teeth.

"Yeah," he smiled cockily as he held his hand out for me to take. "The one and only. And you are?"

He gasped when I grabbed his hand and gripped it too tightly. "I'm Gary, Y/N's boyfriend."

"Oh," he said, his voice getting caught in his throat as I kept my grip on his hand.

"She tells me that you're not leaving her alone," I started to threaten him. "I don't like creepy guys not leaving my girl alone."

"All I do is ask if she needs help," Peter dared to shrug. "I'm the temp. It's my job."

He gasped when I pulled him in and got in his face. "Maybe I need to say this again," I seethed. "Leave my Y/N alone or so help me, they'll be needing a new temp."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Did Y/N ever tell you what I do?" I smirked.

"No," Peter mumbled.

"I hunt people down," I said, lowering my voice. "And if you do not leave the love of my life alone, so help me, I will hunt you down. And if you ever cause any more bruises on her perfect body, no one will ever find you."

"Gary?"

I turned around to see Y/N standing in the doorway, holding onto the strap of her bag tightly.

"Hey, gorgeous," I smiled. I walked over and pulled her into my arms. She gasped when I pressed my lips to hers and roughly kissed her. I broke the kiss and turned toward Peter.

"I have good news for you, baby."

"What?" Y/N asked.

"Peter is going to leave you alone," I said, glaring at him.

"I never. . ."

I moved my jacket aside, causing Peter's eyes to bulge out. "I mean. . . I will never bother you again, Y/N. I'm sorry."

He turned around and quickly left the break room. "Okay," Y/N sighed as she pushed me off of her. "What the hell just happened?"

"Nothing," I shrugged. Y/N's eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms over her chest. She stepped closer to me and moved my jacket.

"Gary!" She gasped as she quickly recovered my waistband with my jacket. "What is wrong with you?! You brought your gun to my office?!"

"I wanted to make sure Peter left you alone," I shrugged. Y/N studied me for a minute before slowly shaking her head.

"You know how when we first became friends I said that I loved how protective you are?"

"Yeah," I elongated as I wrapped my arms around her waist.

"I change my mind."

[suiana]

yandere! hitman and hitman reader who are always at each other's throats, trying to kill one another.

somehow, someway, he's fallen for you. must be because of how often he's in contact with you, trying to kill you and claim the bounty over your head. or maybe it's the way you're able to keep up with him, to evade all his kill attempts despite him being one of the best hitmen in the country.

maybe it's the way you're simply... perfect.

so when your bounty suddenly raises a whole bunch, and a whole army of other hitmen get sent to kill you... he's a little more than just pissed.

"only i get to kill you."

he hisses, clearing the wave of people effortlessly as he makes his way over to you. he's angry. really angry. so angry that he doesn't even take a second look before killing someone. no one shall stand in between him and his beloved target after all.

he spots you on the ground, panting and heaving. god, there's his baby. all injured and on display for him. he can't name a more beautiful sight than this.

"fuck, you're so beautiful like this."

the hitman spits, gripping your cheeks painfully tight. a smirk crosses his face, your blood dripping down his fingers. he pulls away, licking at the tangy liquid before connecting his lips with yours.

the kiss is hot, needy. he doesn't even give you a chance to breathe before he's slapping you across the face, the heel of his boot stepping you on your ribs.

"should i just kill you now, huh? bet you'd like that, wouldn't you? kill you and get your bounty, kill this disgusting feeling in my chest."

but he pauses, eyes narrowing at the sight of your bruised and tattered body. a sharp pain shoots through him and he falls to the ground, clutching at his chest.

"fuck! ugh..."

"h-haha... you'd think... I'd die without bringing you down with me?"

an invisible string connects to your fingers and it all clicks in his mind. sneaky little thing, he scoffs. of course you'd pull a trick like that. it's so like you.

"you think that'll work on me?"

"no... but... it'll curse you... probably..."

he barks out a laugh, pulling the string away from his torso. his hands brush his chest, swatting away all the invisible dirt that got onto him from the fall.

"you're so stupid."

and then an ingenious idea pops into his mind. why hadn't he thought of this before? it's just... so fucking brilliant!

"say, what if i keep you instead?"

[2-dsimp]

Would Temothy like it if his darling dressed up in one of those sexy cow print undies? Complete with horns and a tail and thigh highs of course x3

『Featuring your Yandere Assistant paying your office a nightly visit』

—————-;——————

Cw: MDNI 🔞Fem!reader, Temothy going feral, mentions of breeding, impregnation, very suggestive

—————-;——————

It all started with you wanting to reward your devoted lover and Assistant. For always giving his all in producing the best results for the company. But it soon ended with you fearing for your capability to walk. Since the Bull hybrid who was trying his hardest to persuade you to let him inside you Your office.

Temothy can hardly stand it any longer - the bull’s desire for his darling boss wearing sexy cow print lingerie. Alongside the signature cow ear headband and cowbell that was dangling from the cute choker around their neck. Sent his head spinning and his balls itching to be emptied out in that sweet womb of yours.

Temothy: “My dear please open the door! I promise I won’t fuck you till my balls are empty—shit! That slipped out. Sorry, what I meant was…”

Your Assistant was trying and failing to convince you to open the door after nearly going feral. In trying to quite literally snatch you up and fuck you senseless on sight. Right then and there on top of your pristine desk. After catching a glimpse of your provocative choice in attire. By chance of walking in on you changing within the safety of your office after closing hours.

Y/n: “Tem I heard that! I’m sorry but I can’t open the door and risk having my office in complete shambles cuz of you”

Temothy nearly growled at your soft rejection as he had the insatiable urge to bully his heavy cock. That was leaking copious amounts of pre within his slacks within your velvety walls. The more you kept him away from your delectable form. The more his shaft was hardening in anticipation and need. To sink his meat deep inside your walls and knock you up with his calves. Despite his best attempts at trying to contain himself by gnawing on his bovine tail. But Your Assistant couldn’t conceal how much he looked like a bull that’s about to go rogue from seeing the color red.

The bull hybrid was quite literally hanging on his last thread of common sense before he crashes out. And turns into a polar opposite of himself that was a savage beast. Who wants nothing more than to satiate his needs than that of his sweet little cowgirl. So by total accident he broke the door off its hinges and glowered down at you with wide eyes. A big hungry expression on his face as he completely lost his mind. With you being the sole one to blame for his loss of composure.

[hopeswriting]

reminder that if you back tsuna into a corner he

A) sends you right back into the worst prison for mafia criminals you just escaped from, but even worse than before (enjoy being unconscious and tied up in your one room swimming pool for the next 10 years)

B) freezes you with flames burning so hot they turned into ice (< this isn't how the zero point breakthrough is explained in canon but it's the more dramatic explanation), fully knowing you were already frozen by similar ones for 8 years until, like, a month prior

C) burns you fucking alive and also undoes the last 10 years of your existence across all existing timelines. also he won't think anything about it afterwards ever (?????? like. it's not that he didn't deserve it, to be clear, but damn. 😭😭😭 middle schoolers when you just want to take over the world(s) for a bit, smdh 🙄)

D) is willing to become the boss of the most powerful mafia family in the world with a bloodstained history if it means getting the opportunity to get his hands on you and kill you beat the shit out of you. but you're lucky he likes you so you could stay on very thin ice long enough for both of you to clear things up

E) gangs up against you with all the current and future strongest people in the world, and then punches you so hard he makes you see the light of doing the right thing despite your centuries years old deep rooted hatred which singlehandedly kept you alive as an undead person

also reminder he did all that while he was only 14 years old. this is all things he did in less than a year.

this is tsuna's resume during the course of less than a year of proper mafia business.

so, you know. the next time he goes "i just want my friends and i to be safe and happy and live in peace. 🥺🥺🥺 please don't make me fight you to make it happen? 👉🏽👈🏽🥺👉🏽👈🏽🥺👉🏽👈🏽🥺"

just maybe, consider listening to him

[quek-a-sketch]

Katekyo Hitman Reborn fanart in 2024 who cheered!!!! Ft lambo and I pin as teens!! And my designs

[sistertonin]

they are too pretty to be beefing

[joannasteez]

almost blue (1)

pairing: cody rhodes x black reader warning: explicit descriptions of violence and sexual activity. minors please do not interact. readers eighteen and older interact only please. descriptions of alcohol consumption and the use of deadly weapons. authors note: JOHN WICK AU!!! so excited to share this! i had this sorta kinda in my back pocket for a while, while trying to build up tanks of blood, which you can find to read here. not everything in this is super true to the world of john wick but the most im using as inspo is the aesthetic anyways. also a one off mention of john wick lol. that and some of the names for certain things. italics in the beginning represent flashback perspective music inspo: almost blue by chet baker word count: 4800 tagging: @333creolelady @harmshake @theninthwonder @kill-the-artiste @empressdede @southerngirl41 @2-muchsauce @crxssjae

new york. the continental hotel and it's flatiron shape. september 2019. the rain, this soft unsteady pitter patter. a gentle gray coloring the sky. the air cold and biting. the city filling its brim with a sleepless droning. 

and amongst the deathly sort of decadence—gold trim and blood red carpet floors—bath water disturbs till its sloshing to overtake the tub. a messy spill against the floor. his lips working over yours. fingers kneading deep enough into skin that it stains with the print of his touch. nails tender in his hair and your body melting in till the heat of him breaks over your skin. his everything settled into the wisp and charm of your voice as his pleasure becomes whole. too great.

—but his memory tires from old moments like these, a shell of itself as it attempts in vain to restore to it's former glory. has been in a perpetual state of exhaustion for sometime. but this straining is singular. a throbbing at the forefront of his skull. a tight pulling pain at the nape of his neck till it's creeping wild at the tip of his spine. forcing him to grow ill as he works to reminisce. body wistfully undone. and what words do the men of our time say about insanity? to be in a perpetual state of trying, doing, in hopes of something new. and so on he went, flirting with this disaster, this run of nostalgia, so much so that memory has forsaken him, taking these little complexities —the new york rain and the taste of your lips— along with it. 

but cody can handle the load and reload of a glock 26 as fast as he does it well. a deft maneuvering before the barrel raises and he pulls the trigger, the recoil driving sharp. a bullet through the skull and the splattering of blood. whoever meant to kill him, now dead in his wake. 

but what cruelty this is. a traitor to his own body. living with nothing but the means to kill and tattered memory. with him still, only, all of the things left unsaid—

you'd smelt of vanilla. the yearning about his tongue deep and yet to be settled. his lips a shadow as they feathered against yours. his questions overdone with a frightening passion. "where are you ten years from now?" 

your fingers slipped over his skin, as easy as they would over porcelain. a delicate taking over wet soapy muscle till it clawed over his shoulders and against the heat of his cheeks. "somewhere warm and comfortable. retired".

where ever you were, is where he wanted to be. "am i with you?"

a reversion, just barely perceptible, but there all the same. something like fear, like hesitation, pushing against a situational sort of tenderness in your eyes. the warmth slowly but forcibly outdone by the cold. lukewarm. just like the fate of too old bath water. not enough of either extreme. lukewarm. 

"seems more like a question for you to answer".

"answer it anyways".

and he couldn't feel your lips anymore. too much air, too much distance. caution thick. woven about your words. the tones. the inflections. "ten years from now, you'll be somewhere as warm, as comfortable and retired too".

"am i with you?" 

to draw such a long length of need into the air. passions and hopes and dreams. cody knew. it would've been easier to take the sear of a bullet, the ripping tear in of a knife or the crack of something blunt and unforgiving to his skull. those things easier than the down trod of such a silence. your eyes having gained more and more distance. fear peaking soft and brown before the quick slip over of indifference. like you didn't care for his whispered words sounding too much like forever. and recovery from bullets and knives and blunt force was tedious. sewn up skin and the reformation of fine motor skill. but this. the way you suffered him to feel the drift away of your body and the simple, delicate, eager push in of your touch. something in his heart—amongst the lukewarm water—failed. this low dropping into a less lively place. 

new york. the continental hotel and its flatiron shape. june 2024. a peak of the sun amidst more grayish than white clouds against an icy pale blue sky. the air breezy with a teasing smell of rain. like a stray tendril before some great unraveling. the city as sleepless as it's ever been. 

and amongst the deathly sort of decadence—scarlet sage in bloom and the ever present air of readymade violence—cody sips at a short glass of brandy. an edgy spike to his tongue as it settles. everything of the continental he possessed now lost to time and the overwork of his sore tired memory. lost to a bout of corrosion done by words left unsaid. because he did not remember your answer after the persistence of his "am i with you?” all thats left, this great blurring. of words and the finer littler complexities. your lips and your eyes and the soft ways of your touch. and maybe it came to be this way for good reason. using such a burn to his ego to fuel the fire of his rage. revenge for memories unforgettable. around the glass of brandy, his hands feel stronger. less careful in how they hold. caution be damned. he sips again to finish. his finger buttoning his suit jacket, making way from the bar and across the communal space of the hotel. 

warmth at his ear and a twitch in his trigger finger. something like eyes resting over him. watching him.

he continues to a connecting hallway. elevators and mosaic floors. maybe the brandy wasn't the best idea, but neither was coming to such sacredly awful ground. lovers trauma and all that bullshit jazz. 

the fourteenth floor is quiet. his steps carpeted by soft wool. a second twitch in his trigger finger that leads into the sharp driving heat reminiscent of staggering gun recoil. a sweet burning in his arm, the muscles knowing, remembering. but he has nothing of use on him. nothing to snuff out and quiet that vicious call of death. his hotel room styled with a modernistic flare to it's luxury. clean and unadorned. a simple reflection of his own style thankfully, but nothing extravagant to weaponize. he would have to, if needed, to make due. a slim ball point pen, sleek and multifunctional, rests next to a complimentary bottle of wine. "enjoy your stay", in cursive. cody feels the warmth at the tip of his ear again, something greater than a simple bout of paranoia. his fingers slip the pen into his pocket, a reversing in his steps to triple check the locking function of the room doors.

and he shouldn't be so wound up should he? conducting business was, is, has always been forbidden on hotel grounds. 

his fight or flight saying otherwise. breathing over his skin overwhelmingly warm. lingering wearily. intuition always a nagging son of a bitch but never wrong. it's never failed him. 

cody showers, stands amidst the icy rain of too cold water. cody showers, because warm baths terrify something in his body. the possibility of turning stale and lukewarm. too distant and uninviting to be either extreme. like eyes and soft lips he can barely form well enough to reimagine. 

and the bed sheets are welcoming. slipping along his skin with a delicate relief. but still, something feels wrong. a heaviness to the air that precedes this faithful old tryst with life. with death. the ring of his phone working to unburden him suddenly, but for only some seconds. the number blocked. he answers, rushing to fish that ball point pen from his dress pants. sleek and multifunctional in his grip. but the urgency in his maneuvering cuts short with the slip in of something dangerously angelic. memory sore and exhausted no more, but now rushing back to him fervid and unrelenting. a tender charming tone in his ear that disrupts the stalwart build of his resolve. september 2019. june 2024. five years of an almost complete pain. icy feeling wind with the teasing of a torrential down pour. almost there but not quite. the anger and the pain never red enough. the sadness almost blue. 

"the loft in tribeca" you start. cody commits it all to memory. the words, the tones, the inflections. shuffling to rough his pants on. pen in his pocket. phone wedged to his ear as his fingers rip off the casing of a pillow. body easy as it maneuvers to protect his six o'clock, leaning against the wall. his eyes scope along the room. an over examination. waiting. "if you're not dead in the next 30 minutes, meet me there". 

the call drops. 

the slow unlocking click of his hotel room door. his muscles burn with remembrance. eyes sharp. his ears attune. the shells of them warm. cautioned steps approach the entry way of the bedroom but they fail to go unnoticed. thudding against the soft carpet. and if not for the possibility of his demise, cody would laugh. surely this was amateur hour. boots and inconspicuous were no more suited together than suede in the rain. and he'd made that rookie mistake before. back when he was a rookie. but the high table were no idiots, sending rookies to bring his head in, unless they hated him that much and felt he should feel the brunt of that hatred with some disrespect. and disrespect it was. 

cody's breath holds. his head thumping against the wall before he makes a swift crouch to his knees. a gun rounding the corner, and a bullet flying aimed for where his head had knocked in. a simple quick diversion. nothing special or particularly extravagant, but enough to give him seconds to maneuver. and oh this is disrespect in deed. dominik mysterio the source of his current heavy breathed, adrenaline rushing circumstance. cody knuckling the hold of the still upward pointed gun with a punch before another sinks into domink's abdomen. a short grunt breaking from the scrappy, ill-sophisticated, mullet wearing piece of shit. and surely dominik is more of a piece of shit when his heavy boot toughs into cody's jaw. racing for the gun. 

but cody is quick. has felt and faced harsher things. if anything, its more of an irritation he feels than a full measure of pain. it was hard maintaining good skin considering the life he led. he spits against the carpet. iron on his tongue. red staining the clean line designs. he reaches for dominik's leg just before he's in reach of the gun. pulling him near and flipping him over quickly. a rough hand in the silk of domink's mullet as he rains down punches with the other.  cody ill satisfied as he hears the sloppy singing of grunts from the younger mysterio. and as his frustration mounts, swindled by the audacity of the high table, dominik gains an advantage. his hips shifting up to propel cody, his arms lean and tight and trapping over cody's and rolling. 

"you three piece suit, hugo boss wannabe wearing motherfucker", dominik's face bloody and angry. his fists balled and quick as he comes down against cody's face. 

the impression of the pen presses into cody's thigh. memory and dexterity working like a trained muscle. amidst the  barrage of fists, cody reaches for the sleek ball point pen. clicking the tip and rushing it into dominik's side. harsh vicious stabs till the pain takes hold enough for him to hesitate. plunging the inky tip into his neck, where blood flows to gush. breaking up out of his skin. choking on air and the pain of a slow to come death. 

"bulletproof three piece suits asshole", cody roughs out. kicking dominik for satisfaction. 

if you're not dead in the next 30 minutes, meet me there

the loft is the same. unadorned by that uncanny but natural weathering of time and neglect. warm homely autumn inspired tones with splashes of green and hand carved wooden furniture. cody ever the horrendous sucker for hand carved shit. an intimate union of labor and passion. ever the reflection of a once lively relationship. carefully cultivated, ending poorer than a bastard dying with his eyes wide open. because when you go that way, you deserve it. but cody? his passions didn't deserve that violent abrupt end. and yet here he is, creeping past the entrance. a painful stuttering of footfalls as he goes. muscles sore and his skin on fire. 

dominik mysterio was a warm up. a warning even. the call must've went out. a bounty worth enough for people to try him. the train ride to tribeca interestingly violent. a woman with a knife, a man with a gun and another thinking his bare hands were some great unstoppable force. and no, cody did not make quick work of them. not as quickly as he would've liked. but he managed. and at the very least, he'd suffered a slitting cut to his cheek and a laceration to his chest. that piece of shit running the blade right through his tattoo. some maybe secondary bruising and a bad headache. but he's not dead. not like the idiots that tried and failed to kill him. 

the loft, much like the continental hotel, is agreed upon neutral ground. a place for trysts and the sharing of information. or rather, thats what it used to be. now, cody isn't so sure. 

and his limping is pathetically loud. shoes a heavy clack against the floor. makes him bristle annoyed. you stand just behind the kitchen island. wine bottle opened. a glass in hand as you sip. more beautiful than he remembers. soft looking still, your eyes casting over the rim as you sip, undeniably deceptive. 

a gun lays easy on the coffee table sat between two couches. too easy. but his displeasure gets the best of him. he shifts for it quickly. a swift up of his hands positioned about the gun, aiming for your face. 

you knew his whereabouts. so much so that you knew the whereabouts of the people trying to kill him. taking the chance to trust could cost him his life. and cody quite likes his life. 

"you had me scared a little bit". a gentle float of words. a finger dancing along the rim of the wine glass. a daring stare down the barrel of the gun. "i thought you got bested by a second rate mysterio". and when cody doesn't move, captured by pain, caution and the mystique of your presence, your eyes roll. his form fixed and perfected. trigger finger cool, but his heart unsure. "cut the melodrama. put the gun down cody". 

"you knew i was being followed", he clips. jaw tight. 

"i mean...duh...", you give. dry and teasing. finishing your wine. "half of that was me, and lets not be silly", covering the length of distance between your bodies slowly. a stalking patience. a fierce feline approach. "you shot a bullet through the skull of one of thee most important men. finding out don't come cheap when you fuck with the high table". 

"everybody seems to forget I had to bury my father", the barrel of the gun kept high with perfect aim as you near closer. "killing that sack of shit was just me evening the score". 

"i didn't kill your father cody". 

was that sincerity? empathy? a sudden waft in of warmth after years in the cold. it felt unreal. true but unreal. and he was sure it wouldn't last. 

"obviously", cody bites out. 

your forehead nestles against the barrel of the gun. his memory overwrought. his senses in a frenzy. a horrible mixture in his skin of pain and elation. steeped with the fear of having to endure another sudden vanishing. angry that such an endurance was his portion in the first place. 

"so then why is the gun still pointed at me?"

his fixed form eases. your hand slipping the gun from his hold gently. fire over his skin as you touch him for the first time in five years. a deft maneuvering about the cold heavy metal to expose the contents of the magazine. amusement coloring your eyes and spreading over your mouth for a teasing little smile. 

"they're blanks anyways", emptying the magazine as the faux bullets fall to the floor. your hand settling down the gun and its magazine on the coffee table. leaving him in an exasperated awe as you head toward the kitchen. "just wanted to see how thin your patience has worn". 

your chin jutting over to the couch. hands full of medical supplies as you pad over to him softly. his body aching and slow as it rests into the tender leather seating, but moving without delay still. always under the gentle charm of your voice, his being falling under this servile sort of subjection. making him bristle silently within himself. all that time and distance amounting to nothing for his resolve. 

cody surrenders. mind over matter no longer needed. succumbing to the full weight of his pain. hair messy with red droppings of other peoples blood. his muscles sore and the hammering about his skull diligent and taunting. 

"my pain has always been a funny little joke to you". 

you pull the coffee table closer to the wide spread of cody's legs. your own slipping over to straddle the strength of one of his thighs. your body warm and comforting against his skin. an old feeling blooming in his chest. you were doing this on purpose. he's sure of it. to see him waver and yield to the charm of your presence. gentle touch dabbing to rid his cheek of dried blood before you went about cleaning the wound. his fingers itching to form to your body, desperate to push dull nails into your skin again. to form in and caress with the intent to renew his memory. 

your eyes flit to his crotch. "its a lot more than little. give yourself some credit", you muse. applying butterfly stitches. 

the air is thick. forces him to maintain a steady breath. memory overwrought once more. a mighty rushing in that heats him whole. your hands working his button up open. the lax take of your palm to his belly forcing a throb to the crux of his thighs. the closing in of the distance makes for easy intimacy. a registration of the lesser noticeable, more complex things. the prick of your nails telling familiar stories, as they work to rid him of the shirt all together. tender and caring, similar to how they used to be. your eyes roaming and thinly glazed over. he spares a glance at the wine bottle. halfway done. your ministrations functional but indulgent of the moment. of his skin.

a quicksand sort of state of affairs. if he doesn't pull himself together now, he would fall into you. full consumption. and he can't possibly risk his life because he's half hard and overdone with sentiment. 

"how long have you been following me?"

you apply something like a salve after cleaning the nasty chest wound. an anesthetic. how sweet of you. to suddenly take his pain into consideration.

"a few months". 

"why am i not dead?"

your body adjusts a top of him. somehow closer. your knee nearly running into his crotch. "yet", you give. beginning the process of suturing. "the question everyone wants to know is why is cody rhodes not dead yet". breaking shortly to peer over him. a full examination it seems. heat rising in his cheeks. "cause he's no john fuckin wick. so why is he still here". pressure of the needle feeding into his skin. your lip tucking under your teeth in full concentration. "people don't know resilience is the bane of even your own existence. a little meat puppet made to take push pins". 

he scoffs. "this doesn't feel like a compliment if it is". 

you finish off the suture. a hesitant but delicate maneuvering off his thigh to rid of the medical supplies. the heat of you gone in an instant. "its an observation". the uncorking pop of that half drunken wine bottle. a generous crimson pour that you sip at. 

"on what basis exactly?" 

a whipping swing of kitchen cabinet doors. a bottle of brandy and a short glass. for him it seems. and the pained parts of him grow excited at the possibility of a simple taste. anything for a temporary fix. something to numb the burn in his bones. 

"very close encounters".

and no you don't dip into the leather to sit beside him when you return. you assume a much more compromising position. a full straddle of his legs as you gift him his little amber colored remedy. and if at any moment he ever thought he needed it and actually didn't, let this be the moment where that edgy spike to his tongue becomes essential. something to help him as he searches for a secure hold at control. and of course he drinks it all. an easy burning slip against the back of his throat as he feels the heat of you settling back into him. once dormant urges awakening in his fingers. supple thighs lined up over his kevlar woven dress pants. the baggy button up you'd decided was good enough for his visit thin and something like revealing. the other details left to his imagination. and God was that prone to running at any moment. tripping and falling away from him well enough till his crotch became to uncomfortable to bare the perfect fit of his pants. your empty hand returning to where it'd been. roaming tenderly against slow but steady bruising skin. his nose picking up the sweet wine on your breath. the glaze about your eyes. thighs over him, clenching slightly. 

"you were always a little too indulgent with the wine", cody gives. 

your eyes flitting to his crotch again. bulge more prominent. the teasing of your nails inching over past his navel. your throat humming. "and you with me". 

"don't think much of it". an attempt made in vain he thinks. feeling the hard throb of himself as soon as the words leave him. "it tends to happen. adrenaline from almost dying multiple times", his thigh knocking up into yours to grab at your attention. tipsy eyes drifting to the cold blue of his. "now spill. why am i still breathing?"

"because the number isn't high enough yet". another sip of wine before turning to rest it at the table. your hands free to run over the muscle of him. about his shoulders till your thumbs are caressing at his nape and the hard cut of his jaw. and that nearly drives him to insanity. the weight of you resting right where he pulses with life. "i take your head now, i'd be settling. and the game of it all ain't that fun right now anyways. its too amateur hour-ish for me. i wanna battle it out with the adults". 

"im flattered", cody deadpans. 

you smile. thumb soothing over his lip. "as you should be". 

"why else", the pulse about his blood wild. an unadulterated beating that coaxes to life the run off of his imagination. his touch a staggering grip at your jaw. pulling your eyes to him. lowly sat pretty brown eyes with a penchant for doing him inexplicably dirty. but they draw him in all the same. his stomach empty. filled with nothing but the slosh of brandy. cody feeds into the daze of it. the possibility of a buzz. your lips a breath from his. desire on your tongue by way of the sweet smell of wine. "talk".

your hips shift over him. a rut into the fabric. friction to appease the ache, he's sure of it. thin panties and the desperate curl in of your nails. running into his scalp. trying to persuade him with tender touches and the charm of such wanton need. and its working. fuck, itsworking well. had worked some time ago and doing well now just the same. because cody, despite such deadly skill, was not immune to this type of torture. could not battle it with stalwart patience or dapper precision. and as you rut against him again, mind clouded by wine and your own intent, his fingers burn to touch you more. not so simple and plain but disgustingly greedy. his lips smooth against the seam of yours. amber brandy and red wine a near perfect melding together. 

"fuck", you relent. your nose knocking soft into his. laughing with a wry sort of amusement. "it would stroke your ego to a nice little finish if i did say it wouldn't it?"

cody hums. slips his hold till its anchored about your neck. measured in its pressure. his tongue licking to wet his lips. the slight of it forcing a tremble into your body. 

maybe his suffering isn't a lonely one after all. 

you whimper. taking a hard swallow. 

"vindicate me", cody rasps. 

your struggle is apparent. surfaces with a tear that stains your cheek. body undone by the defeat of such an intimate admission. 

"i miss you", fragile and nearly unclear. 

he smiles mirthless against the soft ways of your skin. his nose buried into the dip of your neck. "i don't trust your sentiment".

"it's true cody". 

"she says, after admitting she wants to kill me".

"better me than someone else". your fingers abandoning him to grip into the leather of the couch. a tight take to it that fastens your body into him. your mouth lax as your lips slip over his. the tease of a kiss filled with too much tension to bare. "touch me", you give. a plea and a command all the same. 

his fingers working in swiftly, a firm obedience, cupping your cheeks to steady the wild go of your tongue as it snakes to slip at his. a frail whimper singing from your chest and the return of your sharp nails. digging against his scalp to bring him impossibly closer. nearly suckling his tongue whole as your hips rut at him again. a less cautious shifting as you look for harsher friction. the pain of a murderous sort of labor and the pleasure of touching you again warring over the tenderness of his skin. coaxing him to groan and wince. strong, tired fingers forcing your hips to rock over him. an easy, stable grind along the hard bulge of his cock that leaves you living without the proper brilliance of words. reduced to the struggle of too pleasured moans. 

your teeth prickling and sharp as they snag against his lip. fingers deft, undoing his zipper. the heat of him hard and throbbing dangerous. his headache out done by more pressing matters, hazy and his senses going numb with lust. palms persistent, sinking into supple flesh. and fuck does it feel good. even better when his patience thins. fingers stretching the fabric of your panties till they tear. the slick way of your arousal making for an easier pace. a sweet teasing slip through your slit. his imagination wild and unfettered. even the thought of slipping in to have his full way with you enough to twist the base of his belly. groaning into your mouth.  

fire in his fingers as they pull against the fat of your ass. sweltered skin sweet in his palms. forming with every push and spread and pry that he gives. 

your mouths depart. a hesitant slipping away. breaths heavy. your face hiding in the dip of his neck. your pussy messy. bewitching even as you grind mindless into him. an undulating heat over his skin. "cody", a mantra as it travels to slight the beating of his pulse. 

the tell tale trembling in your body. a breath away from bliss. and he can feel the build in his bones. the return of an ache thats been transformed. throbbing and restless. an urgency he works to relieve. and with it so does your mouth. less desperate to consume him. melting to linger at his lips. breathy and stuttered. 

"right there angel", he gives. a whisper against your lips. corralling the last bits of resolve to break. your hips stuttering but caressing faithful still. coming undone. rutting greedily to grasp at the last bits of pleasure.

and here he finds that charming sort of relief. an unfurling warmth about his skin. snatching your body into him as he strokes against you and throbs, coming undone. release pooling and spurting against the baggy button up you'd worn to tease him with. 

your lips finding his again. needy still. and he accepts without wait. ready and willing. your moaning along his tongue delicate and wispy. reminiscent of a memory once forgotten. new york. september 2019. cody cups your face again. thumbs dusting over the apple of your cheeks. on a mission to stain himself with this moment. sweet red wine mixed with aged brandy. 

she was getting to be a lil too long so i had to break her up! but how do we feel about our little hitman?

[stormsthatrage]

How many people would have to take a shot if someone said, during a celebration, "Never have I ever tried to assassinate Tsuna."

Do you think the room would go wild when the Tenth's own Right Hand had to toss one back.

[ellenchain]

The true master of disguise: Lucas Grey

my non canon timeline 1989: escape from the institute, trying to find a place in the world 1999: still in Romania, hoping to find 47, but working as a mercenary in between 2002: in Africa, meeting little Olivia 2004: happy life with Olivia in Romania 2005: escape from Romania because of CICADA 2006: undercover in America, watching 47 from afar, playing normal dad for little Olivia 2010: re-thinking life decisions, living in Berlin 2012: becoming more active again, mercenary in various divisions, still running from Providence 2013: becoming head of security, watching Providence more closely 2016: done running

[yanderederee]

Masterlist

𖤐 FandomList 𖤐 YandereEventMasterList 𖤐

Tokyo Revengers

SlusheePreferences Headcanons - All

TomanBand Headcanons - multiple

StarGazing Ask - Mitarashi

PrettyBoy - Chifuyu Matsuno

Trying to Leave Him - Izana Kurokawa

Collateral - Takashi Mitsuya <yandere>

LibraryKisses - Manjiro Sano

ForeverYours - Manjiro Sano

Love,Manjiro - Manjiro Sano <nsfw>

Perfect - Manjiro Sano <nsfw/yandere>

Misguided Drabble- Manjiro Sano <ansgt>

I’mHere - Manjiro Sano <yandere>

Dear Dead, All Mine - Manjiro Sano <yandere>

FragileDearest › Baji x Tutor!Reader Series

Burn it Down - Baji Keisuke <yandere prompt>

CaughtOffGuard - Baji Keisuke <nsfw>

Nightmares - Baji Keisuke <angst>

Teasing - Baji Keisuke

SocialCues - Baji Keisuke <comfort>

Rest - xTimeskip Baji Keisuke <comfort>

Neurodivergent!Reader Ask - Baji Keisuke

Wind Breaker

TummyAche - Hiragi Toma

Orange Theory - Bofurin

Negai no Astro / Astro Royale

OnStage - Kuran Yotsurugi

Kuroko no Basket

LittleSnack - Atsushi Murasakibara

PurpleRosesxCandyRain - Atsushi Murasakibara <nsfw>

Katekyo Hitman Reborn

MeantToBeMine - Gokudera Hayato <yandere prompt>

*WORKSINPROGRESS…

*most posts are written in Fem!Reader perspective …

*please reference my Intro Post of extra information

[3-dsimp]

New follower here and i just want to say that i love your works, especially the torturer, i just want to shower his face in kisses. Your works and art are ✨ amazing ✨ * chef kiss*.

『If you shower the Torturer in kisses then prepare to witness his soul ascend into the high heavens above because this sweet giant cannot handle an ounce of intimacy no matter how touch starved he is』

『Just the mere graze of your skin against his got him acting like a stiff statue, as he tries his hardest not to end up like a fainting goat.』

『But fair warning don’t and I repeat don’t ever try to kiss his Adam’s Apple as his reaction will result in imminent consequences』

.

.

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A/n: Day 1 of me finally emptying out my drafts. And thank you sm hope you enjoy your stay!!

[allthingsfangirl101]

A Little Over Protective – Gary Johnson

The second I got into my car, tears erupted from my throat. I covered my face and sobbed into my hands. After letting it out, I slowly pulled my hands away from my face. That's when I saw the bruises. As I remembered how I got them, the tears came back.

I jumped, letting out an involuntary shriek when my phone started ringing. I forced myself to calm down before answering my best friend's call.

"Hey."

"Hey, you," Gary said sweetly into the phone. "I wrapped up a case and need to celebrate. Dinner?"

"You want to celebrate with your best friend?" I asked, trying to sound normal.

"What's wrong?"

Damn it.

"Nothing," I lied.

"Y/N," he elongated my name. "I know you. I know your voice. So, I know when something is wrong."

"It's nothing," I tried to lie again. "Just a rough day. That's all."

"Did something happen?" Gary instantly panicked. "Y/N, what happened at work?"

"It's nothing, really," I said, trying to sound like I was okay. "It was just a long day. I was stuck in meetings all day and my boss yelled at us photographers for like forty-five minutes."

After a slight pause, he asked, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, G," I tried to reassure him. "What time did you want to go to dinner?"

"I don't know," he said, sounding like he didn't believe me. "What time works for you?"

"Give me an hour?" I shrugged. "I'm still at work. I want to go home and change into something nicer than my leggings."

"Okay," he said, sounding strange. "See you then."

It took me a few more minutes to calm down enough that it was safe to drive. When I got home, I unlocked my front door and closed it behind me. I leaned against it and took a shaky breath. I kicked off my shoes and hung my keys by the door.

I walked into my living room and leaned against the back of the couch. I took a shaky breath and ran my fingers through my hair as I struggled to stop the tears again. 

"Are you going to tell me what's really going on with you?"

I gasped at the sudden voice. I jumped up and turned around to see Gary sitting in the armchair.

"What are you. . . I thought we were meeting in an hour," I stuttered.

"I was already outside your place when I called you. In fact, I called you when I realized you weren't home," he explained as he walked over to me. "Y/N, I've been here for forty-five minutes. Your work is only ten minutes from here. Where have you been?"

"I had to run a few errands," I instantly lied.

"Come on, Y/N," Gary sighed. "I have known you since we were kids. I can tell by the sound of your voice that something is wrong."

He grabbed my wrists but I gasped in pain. I quickly tore my hands out of his, hoping he didn't catch on.

He did.

Gary closed the gap between us and gently grabbed my hands. When I tried to pull them back, he tightened his grip.

"Y/N," he whispered. "Show me."

"I'm fine," I said a little too quickly.

"You gasped in pain when I grabbed your wrists," he said, slowly getting more frustrated. "What happened, Y/N?"

"It's. . ."

"Don't tell me it's nothing," he snapped, letting go of my hands and starting to pace. "Y/N, my job is to protect people and you're telling me I didn't protect the most important person in my life?!"

"Gary, please," I stuttered.

"You sounded weird on the phone," he noted as he continued to pace. "You've done nothing but lie to me about it. Did someone try to grab you? I swear, if someone grabbed my best friend, I am going to go down to your office and beat them so badly they won't be able. . ."

"Gary, stop," I said stepping in front of him, making him stop pacing. His eyes softened when he looked at me, shaking in front of him.

"I'm only going to ask this one more time, Y/N," he said, his voice soft but firm. "What happened to your wrists?"

"Peter, our new temp, won't leave me alone," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"What?!" Gary yelled through gritted teeth. His eyes softened when he saw me flinch. He gently grabbed my arms, rubbing them up and down. "I'm sorry," he said, his tone softening. "Who is he?"

"He started working in my office about a month ago," I stuttered. "Today, he found me in the break room and asked me out. I said no and tried to walk away but. . ."

"He grabbed you," Gary seethed, struggling to remain calm. "I am going to kill him."

"Gary," I gasped when he tried to leave. "Please don't do anything."

"Fine," he nodded. "I will completely forget all about this if you tell me it was a one-time thing."

I opened and closed my mouth, unable to tell him the truth.

"Y/N," he said slowly. "How many times has he bugged you?"

"I don't know," I stuttered. "I mean. . . He asks me if I need help like every day. I always tell him no, G. I swear! But he won't. . . He never. . ."

"He's a stalker," Gary said, moments away from bursting.

"Gary," I whispered. "Please don't. . ."

"How could you not tell me?!" He yelled. "Y/N, you have a stalker. You know what I do for a living! I interfere in these kinds of cases. How could you not tell your best friend that some creep won't leave you alone?!"

"You don't actually kill anyone, Gary."

The look in his eyes changed as soon as that sentence left my lips. "But for you?" He asked, his voice dropping to a whisper as he stepped forward and closed the gap between us. "I'd do anything for you."

"You don't mean that, G," I whispered. "You'd never kill anyone for me."

"I would if he hurt you."

Before I could respond to that, Gary leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. My thoughts went everywhere as my best friend kissed me. I threw my arms around him and started kissing him back. The minute I kissed him back, he pulled me closer.

I gasped when he laid us down on the couch, instantly hovering over me. He broke the kiss and looked deeply into my eyes.

"No one touches my girl," he said, his voice dark. "If they do, I'll end them."

Part 2

[ramblesbiab]

Important to remember that Agent 47 needs silliness to perform at his best. It is simply a requirement that he makes jokes about murder at every possible opportunity, and that he gets to bring up his Not-A-Hitman-sona Tobias Rieper. He also definitely Has to do the little dance when dressed in a flamingo costume. And yes, he must dress up in fun costumes in order to kill his targets.

[2-dsimp]

I feel like Danny would be conflicted on if he would want to screw his darling when they're in a really well done sexy cosplay because of how hot y/n looks in it or not because he doesn't want their outfit ruined since cosplay outfits take a long time to do (makeup alone takes a while and if the outfit is handmade it is even longer).

Like, he's so horny seeing his darling dressed in such a hot and lewd outfit, saving many pictures for his "private" files, and dreaming of so many scenarios he could go at it like a rabbit with y/n, at the same time he would sob if even a small tear were to damage the outfit.

He's probably likely to keep the stockings/thigh highs on his y/n at the very least if he does take off the rest of their outfit while he's desperately going at it.

-a rambling anon

I do agree with that dearest rambling anon ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) NSFW,MDNI🔞 fem! Reader

Generally speaking being the lazybones he is Danny doesn’t necessarily have a high sex drive to begin with, as it’s mainly nonexistent.

Before meeting his darling he’d be too busy fanboying over his favorite anime creators and merch that he hoards like a dragon to even have the effort to jerk off. If it did go hard he’d just think about old grannies or cute animals so it’d soften leaving him with no distractions on his binging.

Overall he’s a lowkey kind of guy when it comes to his energy output emission. But once he meet his cosplayer darling, who had the uncanny ability to turn his off switch on in an instance. Before he knew it, Danny’s whole entire nonexistent sex life dynamic had shifted.

And being the weeb virgin he is, the first time around when yall decided to make love. The Boss would be overly nervous and excited making pathetic humps against your mound. Jaw slacked from just rubbing his leaking dick against your soft skin. Lacking any thoughts whatsoever inside his head. As he soon became a love sex zombie from the way your pussy put him in a trance.

He’d continuously praise and thank his goddess for letting him cream your insides with his filthy otaku cum. Since you’d pop his cherry and take his nut simultaneously in one sitting. The moment his mushroom tip got suckled inside your tight twat.

Btw Danny’s got an uncanny fixation with thick thighs he’s wanna get crushed in between them and suffocate just so he knows what heaven feels like★彡

[skzhocomments]

1437 - “I need your help; I have money to pay you.” - Lee Know (Stray Kids) - Hitman AU

General Masterlist

Request me a story

Thank you for your request ♥

---

1437 - “I need your help; I have money to pay you.” - Lee Know (Stray Kids) - Hitman AU

Word count: 4k words

Wattpad | AO3

~

Writing Prompt 1437: “I need your help; I have money to pay you.” - Lee Know

~

This sucks. Minho thinks, letting out a large sigh and picking up some painkillers.

He hasn’t eaten much today, or the past few days, really, so it probably isn’t a good idea to take another ibuprofen on an empty stomach. He’s surely going to regret it, already feeling an impending stomach ache, but his head just hurts so badly. It won’t stop pounding.

He’s already tried drinking water, but oh, God, the white light coming from the ceiling is making everything worse. He really needs to take this pill.

The one thing he hasn’t tried is sleeping, but how could he sleep when there’s so much work to do?

A new file came in just today.

~

Kim Soo-ah, 25 years old. Picture attached.

Waitress: Mon-Fri 8:00-14:00 Endstreet 34, Cornerstone Diner

Maid: Mon-Sat 16:00-12:00 Client’s residence

Requirements: Eliminate target during Diner shift. Target wears a silver ring, has a small brown mole underneath. Send finger and ring as proof once you finish the job.

~

What did this girl do? Minho wonders. It’s the second request to finish off a maid he’s received from this client, but he was too busy for the first one, so he passed it over to one of his associates.

Although he dislikes working for this particular client, he always pays generously, so this time, he decides to accept it.

He’s a bit curious to know why his client keeps wanting to get rid of his maids. In case they heard something they shouldn’t have, it’d be much easier to silence them through other ways rather than killing them. Less of a hassle for Minho, at least. However, he can’t ask. That’s not his job.

His job is to simply follow these instructions to the best of his abilities and get paid. Nothing more, nothing less. Curiosity has no place in his line of business, and he’s better off not knowing any other details.

Before having enough time to flip the page and look at her photo, though, his door opens, making him raise his eyes from the papers.

“Boss, someone’s here to see you.” His assistant enters the room with haste, making Minho raise an eyebrow.

No one should know of this location, so he is taken aback for a few short moments, before clearing his throat and deciding that he must know who found him, and why.

“Show them in.” Minho instructs, and his assistant rushes outside.

Damn, this fucking white light. He groans again and decides to end his suffering and simply turn on the lamp on his desk, even though he forgot his glasses God knows where and he can barely see the papers in front of him.

Moments later, his assistant comes back with a woman small in stature. She has blonde, wavy hair reaching her shoulders, and her eyes are a deep shade of emerald green.

She is intimidated, Minho observes, as he sees the way this woman is trembling in front of him, anxiously playing with her fingers and looking left and right just to not look him in the eyes.

“Take a seat.” He orders, and the girl is quick to sit down in the chair he offered on the other side of his desk.

“Thank you…” She says, her voice so small, it almost comes out in a whisper.

“Now, who might you be?” Minho asks confidently, his tone slightly bored, although he’s actually brimming with curiosity.

“Uhm… my name is Soo-ah. Kim Soo-ah.” She replies hesitantly, and Minho immediately looks at the papers on his desk and grabs her picture, and oh, what a pleasant surprise.

It’s not every day that the prey comes directly to your doorstep.

“Are you perhaps… Lee Know? And if not… could you please take me to him?” She asks, and Minho raises his eyebrow again.

He notices her clutching her bag tightly. She is quite literally trembling with fear, which makes him want to laugh. She is so painfully afraid of being in the same room as him, he can’t help but want to play with her.

“That would be me.” He replies with a cocky smirk. “Why did you want to see me, pretty?”

“I… uhm… if I understood your… profession… correctly, that must mean you are a… hitman of some sort?” She tries to thread carefully, and Minho can’t help himself anymore. He lets out a chuckle at this girl’s innocence.

“You are correct, doll. So, what brings you here?”

“I need your help. There’s someone I’d like you to… uhm… to k- to kill. I-I have money to pay you. Uhm…” She stutters and starts rummaging through her bag, pulling out a few stacks of rolled hundreds. “I’m not sure how much your services cost, but…”

“How much is in there?” He asks, his eyes sparkling with excitement. The rolls are far too small, and too few. It can’t be more than a couple thousands, if that.

“Around $3000. It’s not much, but… it’s all I’ve managed to save up so far. If it costs more, I could get a loan, or-”

“$3000?” Minho cuts her off with a laugh. “You can’t be serious!”

The woman’s expression falls, her eyebrows furrowing in a frown.

“Pretty, that much isn’t enough for me to even cut off someone’s finger, let alone kill a whole person.”

“Oh… how much would it be, then?”

“That depends. Who’s the target?”

“My boss…” She clutches the bag tighter, telling him his name and address. Of course, he expected it to be his client, so this doesn’t really surprise him.

“Oh, love.” Minho chuckles again. “That man is one of the most powerful in the country, you must know since you’re working for him. Taking him out would cost millions. You wouldn’t afford it in this lifetime.”

Soo-ah looks away.

“Why don’t you tell me why you want this man dead?”

“I think he’s planning to get rid of me… Actually, I’m sure of it.”

“Why?” Minho inquires further.

“I… I saw something I shouldn’t have.” She replies, clenching her fists.

“Be more explicit, doll.” He says, and Soo-ah shifts in her seat uncomfortably. By her mannerisms, Minho can tell she finds this hard to talk about, or she doesn’t know if she should tell him at all.

She hesitates for a few more moments until she eventually starts speaking again.

“I am a live-in maid… I woke up to go to the bathroom and his room is on the way… the door was opened, and there were some very influential people and a large stack of cash on top of his desk. They saw me, so I ran away and hid. There was this other maid that told me about something she’s seen, and one day, she simply disappeared, so I was scared… I think that's what's going to happen to me too.”

“I see.” Minho nods. “Wrong place wrong time, huh?”

“Yeah…”

“So, how did you find me?”

“Much like last night, I went to the bathroom a few months ago and overheard a conversation-

“Damn, you should really stop going to the bathroom at night.” Minho jokes, cutting her off. She doesn’t seem too amused and resumes immediately.

“I overheard a conversation about hitmen, and my boss told someone a couple of names and addresses.”

“My name? What exactly did he say?”

“Yes. Your name and many others. Lee Know, Hwang, Yongbok…”

“Alright. And this address?”

“Yes. This is the only one I could remember… Considering this… topic… I didn’t really want to hear much else or risk him catching me overhear anything I shouldn’t, so I ran back to my room.” Soo-ah nods, and Minho leans back in his chair.

They found out where he is, which is bad news. Of course, he has many other secret hideouts throughout the city in case something like this would happen, but still. The fact that he didn’t know about it is dangerous. And apparently, this man also has some sort of information about his associates.

This is bad news.

The most relevant thing in his profession is secrecy. If anyone would know where to find him, he would’ve been dead long ago.

“Thank you, Soo-ah. That’s great information you offered me right there. However, just for future reference, information is not free. You just missed out on your chance to negotiate with me.” He chuckles menacingly, and her expression only falls more.

She doesn’t know what to say, but noticing Minho’s piercing gaze on hers, she decides to look him right in the eyes and do something she never thought she would.

She stands up and walks slowly around the desk, his eyes fixed on her, and she kneels in front of him, beginning to tear up.

“Please. I’m begging you. Please help me. I’ll do anything. I… I don’t want to die… I’m so scared, Mister Lee Know. Please.”

Minho is taken aback, and something in his heart stirs at the sight.

Memories he’s long-ago repressed start surfacing back, and instead of seeing her kneeling in front of him, he sees a young boy with bruises all over his body begging for his life.

~

“Mister, please. I’ll do anything. Please help me! I’m begging you, please! I want to live!” Minho was barely able to get out between his tears, his forehead pressing against the cold, bloodied tiles.

“And why would I help you, kid?” The man in front of him laughed. “You’re young and stupid. You’re good for nothing. What can you give me?”

“Anything! I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?” The man laughed one more. “Will you kill someone for me, then?”

“K-kill? Mister…”

“If you’re not ready to lead such a life, you have no use to me, kid. You’re better off dead.”

“N-no! I will! I will kill! Please teach me what to do, Mister! I will do it!”

“What an obedient child.” The man cackled. “You know what, kiddo? I admire your fighting spirit. Even though life dealt you shitty hands, you still want to live?”

“I do! I want to live, so please…”

“Get up. From now on, your name will be Lee Know. And Lee Know, your first lesson is to never kneel in front of anyone, no matter the reason. That’s how we do things around here. Got it?”

~

“What can you give me, Soo-ah?” He asks, but this time, his voice doesn’t come off amused or menacing. It’s soft and filled with slight concern, and more than anything, with curiosity.

“Anything. I will do anything…” She cries.

“Anything?” Minho asks, and it’s such a contrast to how his former boss treated him. He is not being unnecessarily mean about it, and he is not forcing an answer out of her, although their circumstances are much the same.

He stands up and walks towards her, noticing how bad she’s still shaking.

He knows she’s desperate. However… how desperate is she, really? She’s been trembling ever since she came through the door. It’s clear to him that she doesn’t have it in her to ever be a killer. But still, would she give up her principles to stay alive, or will she stick to them?

He didn’t have the power to stick to his principles on that cursed day way too many years ago, and his whole life changed afterwards. He could never back down.

Would she do the same?

“Anything.” She replies determined, still looking at the floor.

“Will you kill someone for me, then?” Minho asks closing his eyes, his former boss’ words ringing in his head.

“K-kill?” Soo-ah shakes. It’s so difficult to see his past self in this trembling woman.

“If you’re not ready to lead such a life, you have no use to me, Soo-ah. You’re better off dead.”

The words are burning his tongue as he notices all the air disappear from the woman’s lungs.

She begins crying even louder, her hands moving on top of his shoes, holding tightly. Still, she is still not looking up at him.

“I… I can’t. I can’t… I can’t kill anyone. Please understand. I can’t…” She keeps repeating like a broken record, and Minho’s eyes widen.

She decided to stick to her principles, after all. She is better than him.

“Then-” He starts, but she immediately cuts him off.

“He will kill me. I’m so scared… I’m so scared of him, Mister. What can I do if you won’t help me? What if he’ll torture me to find out exactly how much I heard and if I told anyone else? Fuck, what do I do now? My life must be worth at least $3000. Please… please help me…” She speaks weakly, clutching his shoes tighter.

“Soo-ah, look at me.” He requests, but she just keeps shaking and crying.

Minho grabs her arms and helps her stand up, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

“Do you really want to live?” He asks, and she nods her head rapidly.

“I do. I want to live.” She cries.

“I want you to listen to me very carefully. I can’t let Kim Soo-ah live.”

“What?” She blinks, confused for a short moment, until it clicks. “Did… did my boss ask you to kill me?”

“He did. I received your file just this morning.” Minho smiles softly, his eyes filled with sadness.

“Then… I guess this is it for me. I was… I was a fool to come here. I thought… I thought I still had a chance…” She replies dejected. “Months ago, when I heard those names, I didn’t think much of it. However, today… I didn’t know where to go or what to do. I ended up coming here and hoped that maybe, just maybe… if I were to randomly pick one of those names...” She stops speaking, wiping away her tears from her cheeks.

“How did you remember my name and address, though? If it was months ago…”

“My memory is pretty good. Not that it matters anymore.” She smiles sadly and averts her gaze. “I came to the wrong person. It’s alright. It’s… If there’s no other way, will you at least make it quick, Mister? I don’t want it to hurt…”

“Soo-ah.” He places his hands on her shoulders, making her look at him again. “I said, I can’t let Kim Soo-ah live. We’re going to kill her tonight, do you understand?”

“I’m… not sure I do.” She tilts her head.

“From this moment forwards, Kim Soo-ah is dead. You will have to change your hair and your eye colour, and I will give you a new name… What about… Lee Saera?” He suggests after thinking for a few moments, his eyes rolling up.

“Lee… Saera?”

“Mhm. Isn’t it pretty?”

“I like it… but… why? Why are you helping me?” She asks, confusion lacing her tone. “Why are you helping me when you’ve been ordered to kill me?”

“Pretty, no one can order me to do anything.” He chuckles. “I was hired to kill you. But let’s just say… there’s something of me I found in you. Something long forgotten…” Minho replies, separating himself from her and putting his hands in his pockets. “I can’t kill your boss, but I can make sure he believes you’re dead, and in return… you will tell me everything you know about him, and everything he knows about us. You will stay here and help me.”

“Mister Lee Know, I can’t… I can’t kill people.” She whispers with a frown.

“And you won’t. You won’t walk down this path. I will do the killing, and you will do everything else I ask you to, in exchange for your life. How does that sound?”

He extends a hand towards her, and she doesn’t hesitate to grab it with both her hands and shake it.

“Thank you, Mister Lee Know. Thank you. Truly.” She looks him in the eyes, and Minho can tell she’s genuinely grateful. A small thought passed through his head that she could be a spy, but her feelings seem so genuine, he doesn’t doubt her one bit. She is just an unfortunate, young woman, who happened to work for the wrong people and heard and saw too much.

“Minho… Call me Minho, Soo-ah.”

“Minho?”

“Mhm. That’s my real name. Lee Minho. Use it only when we’re alone, and I will call you Kim Soo-ah. When anyone else is present, though, you are Saera and I am Lee Know, got it?”

“Yes, sir.” She nods.

“Good girl.” He smiles and pats her head two times. “Now, the first lesson you must learn if you are to join me, is… never kneel in front of anyone, no matter the reason. Not even me. Got it?”

“Okay... But Minho… how will you make my boss think I died?”

“Oh, right.” He sighs, grabbing her hand and dragging his fingers on top of her silver ring, taking it off and looking at the small mole underneath. “Soo-ah, your boss asked me to give him your finger as proof of killing you.”

“My… my finger?” She immediately snatches her hand back and looks at how closely Minho is examining her ring.

“Mhm. However…” Since she is now one of his people, he doesn’t want to hurt her. Not even a scratch. He doesn’t tell her that, though, because he doesn’t think he’ll have a choice.

How should he navigate this? Should he try and find a body with a matching mole? But what if they were to run any DNA tests?

“My ring… is a family heirloom. It’s extremely precious to me.” She speaks, interrupting his train of thoughts. “What if we would burn something and put the ring in the ashes as proof?”

“Oh?” Minho raises an eyebrow. “But what would we tell him to be convincing enough?”

“You found me hiding somewhere, and… I don’t know. You killed me, took my body to be incinerated to remove evidence, but almost got caught, so you burned it and brought back the ashes as proof?”

“I’m not sure that’ll fly with this guy, Soo-ah…”

“Then…” She raises her hand hesitantly in the air, and Minho sees how much she’s trembling. “Cut it… cut it off. It’s okay. It’ll hurt, but I’ll be alive, so…”

He shakes his head. He truly doesn’t want to hurt this woman for some reason. She doesn’t deserve to be hurt like this, not by him, not by anyone.

Still, there’s nothing he can do. Her former boss is a ruthless man, and he won’t believe him one bit if he were to just bring him her ring. He needs more proof than that.

“Soo-ah, will you forgive me if I hurt you deliberately?” He asks after a little while.

“Yes.” She answers without missing a beat. “You spared my life. You can cut it off, Minho. I will survive this.”

Despite her determined words, Minho knows she is just putting on a façade. She is scared, she is shaking, and he feels so bad. He’s never felt like this before, no matter who he had to kill. However, the prospect of causing this woman any sort of physical pain makes him feel terrible. He doesn’t want to do it, but if he is to prove he’s killed her, he must hurt her.

Minho grabs his phone from the desk and calls his assistant to bring in the doctor, and after ending the call, he grabs her hand and holds onto it tightly for a moment.

“I’m sorry. I am so sorry.” He speaks softly as he pulls out a knife from his pocket.

Her whole body is shaking, and she shuts her eyes tight.

“I won’t cut off your whole finger. I’ll only cut off enough skin to use as proof, and I’ll take your ring. Alright?”

“... Yes.” She whispers, anticipating the impending pain.

Minho takes in a deep breath as he presses the blade into her skin, listening closely to Soo-ah’s sounds. She places her other hand on top of her mouth and tries to be as quiet as possible as the blade rips through her skin.

She fights the urge to jerk her hand back, not that it would be possible with Minho’s strong hold of her wrist and finger.

“There. We’re done.” He speaks hurriedly as he grabs a clean cloth and covers her hand, pressing tightly on the wound. “The doctor will be here soon. Are you alright?”

“It hurts so bad.” She cries out in pain and Minho pulls her closer, hugging her tightly.

“It hurts, I know. But you are alive, and that’s all that matters. You are alive.”

“I am alive.” She repeats and hugs him back, and she can’t believe that so much could happen to her in a span of a day.

She wishes she would’ve never applied to that job. She wishes she would’ve never worked for that terrible man, but she got blinded by the large sum of money he offered, and she took the offer without any further thoughts on the matter, and she truly regrets it now. She always seems to only make bad choices.

The doctor comes in and cleans the wound, informing both of them that thankfully, it’s not large enough to require a skin graft. He is able to stitch it shut, although he informs Soo-ah that it will inevitably scar.

A scar is a small price to pay for her life, she thinks.

Left alone once more with Minho, she doesn’t know what to do. She stays silent and tries her hardest to stop crying and observes as he begins clearing off his desk.

“Soo-ah, you can sit down until I’m done.” He informs her, so she nods and heads back to the chair she sat in previously.

“What are you doing?” She asks after a little while.

“We need to go. This place is no longer safe, since your boss knows about it. I will also need to call my associates and let them know they should relocate.”

“And then… what?”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“What will happen to me?”

“I told you, haven’t I? We’ll get you a fake ID, change your appearance completely, and then… we’ll see. I still need to think about which tasks to give you, since you’re so…” Minho looks at her and stops, making her raise her eyebrows in surprise.

“I’m so… what?” She tilts her head to the side.

“So… righteous and innocent. I don’t even know what to do with you. You seem like you’d tremble and cry at the slightest mention of a murder.” He replies, and as if on cue, a shiver runs down her spine at the thought of potentially seeing a dead body, and she shakes.

“I’m sorry, I…”

“Don’t apologise for being this way, Soo-ah. There’s nothing wrong with you.” He sighs. There really isn’t. Not everyone is made for this life, and he knows it. But unfortunately, some good people are forced into living like this, and she is one of them.

“I’ll do my best to not inconvenience you…”

“You can do some housework or… I don’t know. We’ll see.”

“Or… as I told you, my memory is pretty good. If you’re stumped with work and have too many documents to check, or information about anyone… I can read all of them for you and just summarize. I will certainly remember everything.” She suggests, and Minho smiles softly.

“That's good to know. But for now, let’s just get out of here, hm? We’ll see what tomorrow brings.”

“Alright.” She nods and smiles back. "Once we go to the new hideout... you should get some rest, Minho."

"Hm?"

"You seem tired... like you haven't slept in a while." She says, and Minho can't help but smile. She is observant.

"Alright. I'll make sure to sleep once we leave this place." He replies, and she smiles satisfied.

Soo-ah is glad that coming to him ended up being the good choice – the only good choice she’s ever made, she believes. She wonders how she could trust him so much in such a short amount of time.

Still, she trusts him, and he seems to trust her too, and she is alive. That’s all that matters.

~The End~

[khreborns]

Hiii! I don’t usually make requests that often so sorry if it’s a little vague. Would you be willing to write cuddling hcs for Tsuna, Gokudera, and Yamamoto with their s/o?

╰┈➤     (✿˵•́ ૩•̀˵)৴♡*    Hello ! Hello ! There's nothing to apologize for, thank you for starting us with something cute.

.𖥔 ˖ PAIRING  :  y / n × Tsuna, y / n × gokudera,  y / n × takeshi. gender neutral & TYL setting. .𖥔 ˖ WARNING  : Pre-establish relationships, just a very slight mentions of NSFW under gokudera.  No beta reading, might have clerical errors

.𖥔 ˖  SAWADA, TSUNAYOSHI. .ᐟ.ᐟ

━━━ Tsunayoshi's shyness never did retire, it goes on crippling him back to when he's just a middle schooler with a dreadful sort of all consuming crush. With clammy hands and heart beating against his chest - he could have sworn you'd hear it , feel the sweat a top his skin and when you do feel his discomforts, ( his body too warm, him breathing too hard . . . whatever self-conscious thing that worms its way into his head ) he's sure to see your face contorting in disgust. BUT you never do. You embrace him a little closer and he scrunches his nose in relief.

You'll learn quick that Tsunayoshi holds you too carefully, arms hesitantly wrapped around you, stiff with shaky breaths, but unwilling to leave all the same. His eyes are often shut tight, holding his breath until you squeeze a gentle reassurance into him, lulled into your comfort. He's happiest with you, safest with you, wants to be like this forever with you.

I think Tsunayoshi ends up with a severe case of night terrors, what can I say? The trauma got to him! For a long while, he couldn't really sleep properly, but having you there sure eased those fears.

He'll find himself seeking that special space beside you more often than he'd like to admit if only because he thinks he's bothering you. ( Is he being childish? unmanly? do you hate that? was he being too clingy? god forbid! ) - he could never verbalize this need but you'll sure see it in his face, just the way he looks at you, you know ? Can I hold you?

You are Tsunayoshi's charging station, his favorite place to be. Home becomes the space between your arms. & he'll hold you a little too desparately sometimes, like the first breath you take after drowning.

.𖥔 ˖  GOKUDERA, HAYATO. .ᐟ.ᐟ

━━━ He had read about it, the benefits of cuddling. He tells you unprompted and whether or not you knew about it hardly really mattered, he couldn't just say it straight could he ? It'll 'boost immunity' , it's a 'good stress management' , It promotes sleeps, just so you know. He says one time, face drawn crumpled into an embarrassed displeasure, like he's angry at you . . . but you should know better by now.

Gokudera is neurotic ; he thinks of all the awful scenarios before anything else and a simple hug, unless absolutely perfect, could lead into unknown perils and disasters. It has to be perfect! He has to do it right! But he's clumsy above all else and even as an adult he remains inane when it comes to the matters of the heart. How do you do it? The perfect partner, lover. There's no instruction guide for that, is there?

So there he is, rigid against your arms, rigor mortis stage of death, he's supposed hug you back! He knows about this! But he isn't breathing and his eyes are drawn wide with fright. ( Where you suppose to feel this comfortable? where you suppose to feel this good ? ) When he finally moves to embrace you, you'll find his hugs tight and needy, don't go - stay. All over again, he feels uncool. This is not a perfect hug but when you move closer, snuggle into him just as enthusiastically as he had been, he feels all his worries melt away.

Ah, but he doesn't like that he's greedy - cuddles always lead to one thing and another, makes him want a kiss, to hold you longer, maybe, maybe just feel you a little more.

Gokudera would likely , vividly remember every little thing about you — the way you feel against his skin, how you smell, how you sounded... seared into his cranium. So! he's obsessed, you should have seen that coming!

.𖥔 ˖  YAMAMOTO, TAKESHI. .ᐟ.ᐟ

━━━ Quick to heave you close! Takeshi's shyness lay just beneath his inclination to keep you near, he had always been predisposed to touch . . . you'd noticed long before you've gotten together, how he'd linger just a little bit too close, loiter in your space and stall just to stay there, more often than not his habits are thoughtless, never preemptive, always just an unanticipated impulse. ( but there you would be, apprehended into a comfortable embraced, squeezed just enough to remember how you both have bodies, how you feel against his. He'd be red faced, blushing peachy pink like he isn't the perpetrator of this crime - and even if you aren't a hugger, you'd think it isn't too bad, you also found out Takeshi has a sway on people, he has a sway on you too. )

You might think it's sly, when he's able to settle into you urbanely, charmed smile across his face and hands along the dip of your hips. He's shy, really, he is! With his heart tapping across his chest lamely, nervously . . . ! but he knows where his body should go, knows where to hold you just right. Knows to ask - "can I?" - "May I?" , knows to kiss you thank you when you grant him affection. There's nothing clever about this, nothing methodical in spite of what it may seem, he feels clumsy and he's in love. He doesn't know what to do with himself really.

He's unwilling to let you go. (It's childish he knows.) but once you're caught, he'd wished for you to stay there - just a little bit longer, a little bit more. Takeshi feels he's a bit too self-indulgent, like he's being too greedy, but self-restraint is difficult when you feel just right, when you allow him to be eager and humor his troublesome self. A kiss follows and another and another, he's smiling through it, likes to murmur your name smothered with i love yous.

Forgive him for being overwhelmed. He'd be very dog coded when it comes to his partner, very enthusiastic . . . to say the least.