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bimbosandbubbles · 9 months

Text

Four Square

Starring Yandere Hisoka,Chrollo,and Illumi aka the adult trio x healer chubby reader

Warnings-manipulation,lying,coercion,hinted stalking,breaking and entering, Hisoka being Hisoka,ass slapping,foursome,dirty talking,breeding kink(no creampies tho), dry humping,pussyjob, thigh riding,fingering,praise, a dash of degradation, unhealthy behavior,obsession,possessive behavior,YANDERE,hairy pussy,hairy legs(Body hair is normal and I’m totally pushing the agenda with my fics),spitting,odd scent kink?,blow jobs,hand jobs,pussy eating,omg finally protected sex in one of my fics. Honestly not so many tbh(compared to my other fics)not really proofread! Sorry!

Wc-13.6k(ya’ll I got rid of 7k more words)

Taglist- @shaisuki @lilyalone @999-ang3l @queenmimis @agnl2000 @thewickedofrizz @kelly-fushiguro345

"Illumi,you will not wed to a woman that does not carry the same blood as us. She's nothing but a mere commoner." A high posh voice protests.

Black,empty eyes star deadly daggers at the person who spoke those words with such confidence. "I will not hesitate to cut off your tongue if you speak one more ill word about my soon to be wife,mother." The woman gasps,"Illumi! You don't speak to me in such a way!" A monotone voice counters,"I can and will. You mean nothing to me compared to her."

Just the mentioning of his sweet savior in the third person arouses cherished memories,memories that he's saved and replayed ever since he's left your care. He remembers your gentle caresses,the calm tone you spoke to him as you nursed his intense wounds. How you uttered his name with such affection the longer you took care of him.

He longs to see you again,longs to feel your touch,longs to hear your honeyed voice rant and ramble about your day to him. He misses oh so very much,his bride who's so far away from him now. He wonders what you're doing—he should call.

A ghost of a smile draws onto his face at the thought. Should he video call you or no? He wants to see your bright smile as you say his name so happily. He's pulled away from his thoughts by his father's deep voice. "If you really feel this way for such a low woman why didn't you just take her away?"

This question peaks Illumi's interest—why didn't he take you back home with him? His family would've grown to love and be fond of you quite easily. Was is because he thinks you'd be angered with him? He couldn't bare to feel you being cross with him—resenting him for stealing away your free will. No,he just needs you to treat him as you do,with such care and love that he'll never get enough of. But apart of him wishes he took you with him,wishes you were here now—lounging with him and touching him in the he way he's grown to love. And this causes Illumi confused,an emotion he often feels when it comes to you,not used to the foreign feelings you give him.

The confusion leaves Illumi without a answer to his fathers question. But that doesn't stop Illumi from replying,"That is besides the point,mother is fighting me on claiming what surely belongs to me. I deserve my (Reader),I deserve to have her as my wife and as the mother of the future Zoldyck bloodline." His parents are baffled by their quiet and normally unfeeling son who seems to be throwing a tantrum at the ripe age of 26. Silva's cool yet bright blue eyes stare into his son's black ones,thoughtfully thinking about a way to go about this.

Finally he sighs,"Take her then. Wed her and bed her. But know they're are others who want her just as badly as you do." Illumi squints his eyes at that—what others would possibly have the guts to take you from him,one of the most deadly assassins there is. "And those others will be killed by my hand mercilessly."He coldly states. Silva huffs with humor,"Not when you find out who those others are."

Illumi hands clench into fists,"How do you know such information and I don't?" It angered Illumi that his father dare know more about you than he does. Especially because Illumi keeps a watchful eye on you through others,hiring many spies to report to him about you whereabouts. So how does his father know this?

"You think my son being interested in a woman for the first time in his life isn't business to me? Me and your mother know much more than we lead on about your little healer woman." Illumi speaks with tight lips,"Who.is.it." Silva smiles,"She's your woman,find out yourself."

Illumi manifests a needle out of thin air,"You will tell me exactly what I want to know." Silva chuckles heartily,"Threatening me? Wow you must really love this common woman,huh? Tell me Illumi when was the last time we fought?" Illumi frowns deeply at his father's amusement—irked with his enjoyment of playing with his newfound emotions.

"Don't toy with me father. I'm no longer a little boy." He spits with venom. "That you are not,my son. I suppose I will give you a small hint since you are a smart man. Two men you've allied yourself with in the past want are the ones who wish to have her. "

Illumi looks as shocked as his face will allow him to be. It couldn't be who he thought it was....right?

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"Oh Hisoka,don't buy me that!" You demand. "Nonsense,my dove. You'll look so pretty for me in this little dress." You shiver due to the proximity of his plush lips to your skin. "So,you only want to buy me something cause you'll like it? And here I thought you were being nice to me 'Soka."

The male wraps his lanky arms around your wide waist,not forgetting to grip the pudge of your stomach through the material of your wool turtle neck. He bends down to your ear,whispering lowly—the tone so seductive you get chills going down your spine. "You know I'll always be nice to you...unless you don't want to me which I can gladly do as well."

You clear your throat, flustered by his actions,"I'll keep that in mind 'Soka." He hums,his sharp nails digging into the pliable flesh of your plentiful stomach. "So,my dove will you allow me to get you this dress or will you be stubborn with me?"

"You already know the answer." You say teasingly. "Your stubbornness is so cute—but you must know either way I always get what I want." Your brow raises,"And what do you want this time?" Hisoka leers at you with his cat like eyes,licking his lips before his answer,"I want you to stop denying me when I wish to spoil you. I owe you after all."

You laugh sarcastically,"You owe me? Last time I checked you saved me even if you didn't mean to." You recall the night so vividly as you mentioned. You were calmly walking in the night,just getting home from a long day and your tired body became slowly unaware to the world around you. You became so numb,so unaware in fact you didn't hear the running steps of someone behind you. Before you knew it a man covered in bruises and wounds head to toe had grabbed you,pushing you to shield him in some way.

Then you felt a cool blade pressed against the plushness of your neck. You remember fighting and struggling against the male's overpowering strength. He shouted across your shoulder,muttering about something along the lines of "I'll kill her if you take one step closer." In the midst of that though you finally meet the eyes of the bloodied clown.

Hisoka had easily disposed of the man,shaming him for putting someone as weak as you are in a fight you're useless in. After that you chased him down,begging him for a chance to thank him properly. He was disinterested in you from the start and it wasn't until you offered to heal his wounds that he even entertained you.

From then on Hisoka would pop up when he got injured and you'd loyally heal him as thanks for saving your life. Eventually the two of became actual friends? You don't know what you're relationship is with him due to how he does things such as this.

"Oh noooo my dove,I only killed that man because he was hurting your pretty little neck." You roll your eyes,"Okay then,what about after,huh? You said people like me were pathetic and wastes of space." Hisoka leans his head on your shoulder,his tall body looking deformed from how far he's bending,"Hush,I was only being so mean to you cause I didn't realize how useful these hands of yours are."

At his words you're reminded what type of man Hisoka really is. A man who sees only the strong and never the weak,a man who's full of intense bloodlust that simply gets turned on in promise of a good fight. So it makes you ponder why he hasn't gotten rid of you yet? Sure,you're a healer but there's many others who better at it. You're not even a healer who uses nen,only herbs and traditional medicine being practiced by you. And still you remain alive,untouched and unharmed by a killers hand.

It seems Hisoka has made you feel too important,too valuable to him,that you've grown to feel comfortable—safe from his bloodlust. "So I'm only alive because of my healing ability?" You try to conceal the hurt in your voice but Hisoka still picks up on it. Immediately he turns to comfort you,"Oh my dove—no,no, you mean so much more to me than that. I just worded it wrongly."

"Yeah,right. So how long do I have until my hands have no use for you Hisoka?? I can't believe for a second I thought—" Your rant is cut off when a pale hand loosely wraps around your throat. The grip is painless,barely noticeable honestly but it's the fact you know that Hisoka could easily kill you with just a tightening of his grip. "Hush,do you think so low of me as to murder you? How dare you. Honestly,you need to give me some credit." He practically purrs out.

"I care for you my dear (Reader), a concerning amount might I add. So when I say something"—he leans down closer to your face,his lips gently kissing the chubby skin of your cheeks,"I mean it. Do not ever accuse me of just simply using you again,you understand,my dove?"

But Hisoka is using you in a sense,just not that one you were implying. He's not using you for the learned skill you possess—no no,it's much more. You've given something to Hisoka that rivals even his bloodlust,you've laid bare to him the feeling of obsession. A feeling that drives him deliriously mad in sick pleasure—like a drug he can never get enough of. He doesn't know what it is but only you can give him such a feeling. A feeling that leads to him feeling...in love with you.

"I understand Hisoka." You nervously say. He lets go of his grip on you,patting your cheek gently in approval as he does so. "Good,my smart girl knows just what to say. Anyways,shall we get this dress for you?" He phrases it like a question but you know Hisoka will buy it anyway. "Let's buy it." You mutter with an uneasy smile,still not recovered from feeling Hisoka's hand on your throat.

"Right answer again! You're on a roll aren't you,my dove?" Hisoka praises you excitedly. "Yeah—" you're once more interrupted by the crude ringing of a cell phone. You dig in your pocket and see just who's calling you. On the screen it reads no caller id and you know exactly who it is.

"Oops,sorry Soka I gotta answer this." You wiggle your way out of his hold. This leaves Hisoka pouty,"Can't it wait? I wanted to buy food for you after this too." You chuckle,"No it can't,it only take a few minutes. And I'll be right outside." Hisoka rolls his eyes,"Alright but stay right there."

You nod and rush out the doors of the store. As soon as you feel the cool winter air on your skin your thumb presses the accept button. "You took a little long,didn't you?" The smooth voice says. "Oh give me a break, I was doing something." You playfully bite back. "Yeah,like what little spider? Were you watching those silly movies again and almost missed my call?" His tone seems playful but what lies beneath it is an annoyed man. But no,he can show his spider how upset he gets when you don't answer right away—no no such a gentle thing like you doesn't deserve to see him like that.

"Noo,for your information Chrollo, I'm actually Christmas shopping right now. I even got you a little something but I'm not sure if I should give it to you if you're gonna tease me." Chrollo chuckles,"Mmm,well I guess I have to stop for a little then. Who are you with by the way?" Your brow raises at that,"Umm what makes you think I'm with someone?"

"Don't consider me a fool (Reader), I just have a hunch." You roll your eyes at Chrollo's need to always seem mysterious in front of you. "Alright, I am with someone." You admit. "Who?" He asks,more like demands. "A friend. And does it really matter anyways?" Chrollo wishes to tell you that yes,it does really matter. Because every waking second that you don't spend with him drives him crazy. Not a single person deserves to be close to you the way he is. He wants to say all that but he settles for,"Yes because I want to see you tonight. I don't another person to hinder our time together."

"Oh no are you hurt again?" Chrollo chuckles at how concerned you sound,finding it cute. "Must I be hurt to see you,little spider?" You hum,"Mmm,yes cause those are the only times you visit me. Ya know it's not nice to do that—coming to me when you're all battered and then leaving so soon,it's so mean Chrollo cause I'm left worrying and missing you for how long God knows." Chrollo's heart beats at that,you miss him just like he does you. But there's also ache at the fact his little spider is left worried about him,that you're hurting cause of him.

But you have to understand he can only speak to you sometimes—if he did it too much you'd be hunted. And until Chrollo has you his he can't allow that. But at his core Chrollo is a truly selfish being and his selfishness is starting to show more and more. He's been indulging more frequently in his needs to see you,to smell you,to touch your velvety skin—like now.

"I'm sorry (Reader),but I'm a dangerous man I can't show up whenever I want. It's so you don't get hurt." He says. "Yeah,yeah I get that. But it still leaves me worried ya know? Anywaysss can we meet up a different day?" Chrollo sighs,"It's too late. I'm already in your house."

You nearly drop your phone in shock,"YOURE WHAT? YOU CANT JUST BREAK IN MY HOUSE!!" Chrollo hushes you,"Sshhh my spider, I just wanted to see you so bad and I knew if I waited any longer I would go mad." His soft voice eases you from your anger a little,"I get that I guess,but it's so not okay to break in my house Chrollo!" Chrollo makes small comforting noises through the phone,"I know,I know but don't be mad at me,little spider. I only longed to see you and I will confess that has caused me to act...a bit rash."

This damn sweet talker. You had to admit you had a soft spot for him since the night you met him and that paired with his soothing words were a weapon against you. "Alright,I'll be there in a hour. Don't rush me either." You say,caving into him. "Mmm,you listen so well (Reader). Always so good to me. I'll see you,okay?"

"Okay. See ya,Chrollo." With that Chrollo hangs up and you sigh,the cool air making your breath look like fog. You turn back around and open the door only to feel the hard abdomen of someone. "So,Chrollo,huh?" The purring voice taunts.

"Hisoka! What're you doing out here?" He hums,"Well you were taking a little long for a quick phone call and wanted to make sure you weren't hurt." That was a lie Hisoka was listening from the very beginning you went outside and only now has he made himself known.

"Oh well it's not nice to easedrop,you silly clown!" You embarrassingly scold. "I wasn't easedropping,I just heard you say his name right before you hung up." He lies. His lengthy fingers reach down to grab your chin,"I was checking up on you,my dove. It's late and a cute thing like you shouldn't be outside at night for too long." His index finger and his thumb caress your chin gently,softening your suspicion of him.

Your left without a reply to that,simply settling to hum in acknowledgment. "I'm assuming you have business with him then,so that means we're not getting food?" Hisoka asks. You look at Hisoka and then remember how excited he was to take you out and for the most part you had a lot of fun minus the almost choking incident. You smile at him,"No,let's get some food 'Soka." You did say to Chrollo that you'd be an hour...so it's not a big deal,right?

Hisoka smiles brightly,"Good,I'm starving." The two of you venture off to a small burger place that you recommended to go to. Your orders come quickly and you scold Hisoka for simply getting a strawberry milkshake while you have a whole combo meal. "Hisoka you said were starving and you order a strawberry milkshake...."'

"I said I was hungry,not for what." With that his large hand makes a move to grip your plush thigh licking his full lips as he does so. "Don't make me regret sitting next to you 'Soka." You say warily. "I don't think you'd dislike what'd I'd do to you (Reader). " He purrs. "Oh yeah? What makes you think that?" You say challengingly. He leans close to your ear,preparing to whisper,"You know I could easily unbutton those little jeans you got on and put my hand on that pussy. You wouldn't fight me either,huh? You'd probably like being fingered in public,right? You dirty girl,of course you would. "

Hot heat rushes in your veins,shocked by the filthy words of your companion. " 'Soka!" You whisper shout in embarrassment. "Hmm?~" He replies,lips now trailing the shell of your ear. "S-Shut up and drink your shake." You command. Hisoka pulls away,chuckling,"You're such a innocent little thing,aren't you?"

"Hush and drink." You say. Hisoka surrenders and does as you say. It's silent and that allows you to think for a little bit. Your brain and body finally catch up to how Hisoka's words made you feel. As he uttered each filthy syllable you couldn't deny how your thighs slightly clenched close,how your breath hitched in hesitant arousal.. It made you feel perverted for feeling such a way because Hisoka didn't mean what he was saying,right? He's overtly sexual all the time so why'd it feel so...intimate? It's as if he really meant it.

"My dove,you're hardly touching your food. Here let me fix that." Hisoka brings a slight cold fry to your lips. "Say ahhh.." He says playfully. " 'Soka 'm not a baby..." You announce begrudgingly. You say that but your lips still part open for the fry and then you do the same for another and another and another. It goes on so long that Hisoka just starts causally hand feeding you in public. "Do you want a bite of your burger,my dove?" You nod and he easily complies,holding the burger to your mouth as you take a good size bite.

You chew and chew,missing the way Hisoka observes you. His yellows eyes light up in pure enjoyment as you let him do as he pleases to you. He revels in the way you barely even resisted him feeding you finding it so cute how you just gave into. He enjoys how much you've grown to trust him even from the beginning—following him around like a little kicked puppy,desperate to thank it's savior. He wonders if you know the effect you have on him—how he softens up around you,how he constantly spends money on you despite his motto of saving money,how he can't keep his hands off your supple body.

Not to mention how he feels when he imagines someone else treating you in such a way it makes him disgusted. How lowly of said imaginary person to believe they could actually make you happy? No,no, only Hisoka can. Only he can get you to smile that one specific way,to get you to laugh until you feel like you have to pee.

"Can I have another bite?" You ask expectantly at the man. "Yes buttt you have to say the magic word." Hisoka teases. "Please 'Soka." You plead. Hisoka gets chills running down his back,the kind he gets in a really good fight but instead of blood,he craves you. You asked so very sweet that he can't help but imagine if that's how'd you ask for his cock—soft and kind with a begging glare in your eyes.

"Of course my dove,anything you want." You smile at him as you take another bite. Hisoka continues to feed you bite of the burger or transitioning to the even cut fries. Occasionally his poised fingers stop feeding you to clean off crumbs or sauce that lands on your cheeks,always licking his fingers once he wipes it off.

Finally you take your last bite,eating in grateful content. "Was that good?" Hisoka asks pleasantly. "Mhm,it was." Despite how good you said it was you sound bothered...bothered by the fact that you let Hisoka feed you,without a fight. Was it a haze of blinded trust or perhaps something else? You try not to think of it too much,deciding to change the topic.

" 'Soka I just remembered about the shopping bags. What happened to them?" Hisoka waves you off good naturally,"I stuck them in my car,no need to worry your pretty little head about it." You smile happily,a wave of alleviation crashing against you. "Good,we should get going then!"

Hisoka obliges,his tall frame standing up right and a well toned arm slinks itself around the plushness of your middle. "Let's go." He walks you over to the door and you stop abruptly to bid a goodnight to the kind employees of the establishment.

The two of you saunter off into the night,the obnoxious neon lights of the restaurant being nothing but a mere trail. Hisoka's arm tightens around your waist,pulling you even closer toward him. You can feel the heat radiate off of him,easing the cold biting air just a bit. You lean into his touch,sighing contently. An action Hisoka notices with excitement—a fox grin curling at his lips.

"You know (Reader),how I've always said that you never owe me when I buy you something?" He says. "Yes...why are you bringing this up?" You attempt to keep your tone steady but all you can think is "Oh my god,he's finally done with me! I have no use to him anymore! He's going to kill me!" Hisoka stops walking therefore stopping you as well and at that moment you could feel yourself swallow rocks. He leans down,leering down at you menacingly—his playful grin gone and replaced with a straight expression.

"I'd like to kiss you. I promise it'll be worth your while." As soon as he mutters those words his mischievous mask paints back on. "Kiss me?" You say breathlessly,deeply confused as to why the killer clown would want to do that. "Yes,I don't usually like to repeat myself either,(Reader).You might push me too far.~" Your eyes look at his,searching for some playful game or plot in them. There's nothing but pure excitement though,the kind of excitement you've seen his eyes light up with when he's recalling a gruesome fight to you when you patch him up. He's sincere.

Without hesitation because you know anymore thought would muddle your confused brain even more—your lips open to form the first syllable of yes but are interrupted by Hisoka's mouth. He takes advantage of your already open mouth and sticks his large tongue in ,the pink muscle doing something oddly pleasurable inside. You can't help but whimper quietly as he uses your mouth so passionately. Your dull nails dig into Hisoka's forearms,causing a lewd moan to fall out of the man's mouth.

The clown takes advantage of his arm already wrapped around your waist—a skilled hand gripping the love handles with a teasing force that makes your knees weak. He pulls you closer to his own body—relishing in the fact that you're so close to him,loving the heat your soft body exudes. He finally pulls away staring down at you—lust glazing over his bright yellow eyes.

It's silent between the two of you and you expect Hisoka to say the first word but instead he pulls you into him,enveloping you into his hard chest. " 'S-Soka?" Your voice unintentionally shakes,the shock from the kiss still overriding your brain. "You taste so good,you little minx. I'd take you right here on this sidewalk if you weren't so pure. It's okay though,I'll wait and mold you into the perfect cocksleeve. My sweet good girl who'll take my cock so well...I just know you have the prettiest pussy. So so pretty,just like your face."

Hot red heat flushes throughout your blood system—the cold weather no longer being a bother. Was he ranting? Could he not control the filthy words flowing out of his mouth? This reminds who about how he rants and rambles when he's facing a strong opponent,yet all you've done to get him so riled up is kiss him. Your mind muddles itself to a all too thoughtful puddle—too shocked to even understand what's going on.

You thought you and Hisoka were friends,a friend to him that he'd flirt with and touch constantly—but that's just Hisoka,right? Hisoka who comes to your small home in the middle of the night,injured yet excited. Hisoka who's now patched up,that convinces you to let him stay in your bed with you. Hisoka that sometimes cuddles with you for a few hours before he disappears for another months time. Hisoka who'll call you or leave playing cards around for you to know he's still alive and well. You may not be the smartest cookie in the batch but you know Hisoka hasn't and probably never do that for anyone else. His selfish nature being a unforgettable attribute he possesses.

Hisoka who's pressed tautly against you—his hard bulge grazing against your squishy belly. You're breathless and left wordless—your body being the only thing left to communicate with. You feel hot,so hot that you can feel how burning your hands are against Hisoka's muscular forearms. He stares down at you,his predator like eyes practically eating up your reaction of his action. He could see your body turn rigid yet you're still frame is like puddy in his experienced hands. You liked it,he knows you did. Otherwise you'd be resisting him—telling him you don't want him to touch you in such a way—to not spew such dirty things at you.

This makes Hisoka wonder how far can he go? Can he go as far putting his hand down your pants? Would you allow him to curl his extremities up into your warm hole as the two of you stand onto the calm sidewalk? Would you let him kiss the nape of your neck while he's hushing you to be mindful of people as you moan crazily on his fingers? Would you let him hump your plump jean clad ass as he gets you off on his hand?

Hisoka doesn't get to find out anything though because you've seem to finally be able to speak a sentence. "I-I have to go home 'Soka." The killer clown knows why you're saying that,knows who's waiting patiently for your promised arrival. He feels a sense of jealousy, a feeling he's never really bothered to feel before and that irks him to his core. Why? Because you were leaving him for Chrollo. He wonders if he should go with you and already begin the fight he's long been craving with the leader of the troupe. He can just see the vision of him basking in the blood of his own body and his dead's opponent,he'd beckon you over and seduce you gently,coaxing you into letting him fuck you in the pool of blood. Chrollo's dead body ominously watching as he ruts and thrusts into your body.

The fantasy alone makes Hisoka's hardened dick throb in his loosely fitted pants. But he pushes away his own lusts,smiling as he pulls away from your body. "Okay then let's go." He says cooly. You look at him with puzzlement though you drop the expression—after all you're on a time limit. He uses his arm that's connected to your waist to start the monument he stopped only a few minutes ago.

The walk to the car is quiet and awkward mostly for you. You can't shake off how that kiss made you feel...it makes you want to ask what you truly are to Hisoka. You know he does not see you as an equal—a fair opponent he wishes to fight to the death with. So like your thoughts earlier you're lead to believe you give Hisoka something he cannot go without—at least for now,til one dreaded day he's tired of you. You like to think though that you mean more to him than you really know—a comforting thought to have instead of impending death.

You wonder if Hisoka just sees you as something he wants to fuck. No—if he did than from the beginning he wouldn't have been so aloof to you. Why'd he have to be so confusing? You curse the man you've grown to weirdly cherish.

Hisoka opens the car door for you and you settle in,buckling your seat belt and fixing your clothes slightly. Before you know it he smoothly starts driving ,taking you home—the home Chrollo is patiently(impatiently) waiting for you at.

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Charcoal black eyes peer from the window of a cozy home. They watch as a obnoxiously bright car pulls up into the little drive through. Two people get out of the car,a shorter one and a much taller figure. The eyes recognize the shorter one as you—looking soft and pliable as you usually do. A bright smile plastered on your face as you hug the taller figure.

But the soft gaze the eyes held when they were staring at you is gone once they figure out just who exactly you're hugging. Chrollo wonders how this damn clown knows you—is this a ploy to get him to fight him faster? To use something he holds so incredibly dear against him? He wouldn't put it beneath Hisoka to do,nor himself though. He knows he's not all that much better compared to him.

But this is simply impossible,no one knows about you. No one even knows a shred of Chrollo's feelings for you...so maybe,just maybe this clown knows you for different reasons. Chrollo tells himself Hisoka doesn't even know your connection with him.

The man becomes so lost in thought he doesn't notice you've already made your way inside,bags in hands. His head snaps as he takes you in up close—walking over to you and reaching for the bags. "Woah,now I know I said I had a gift for you but you can't just take my bags Chrollo." You joke. Chrollo scoffs,amused,"My apologies,I must've gotten too excited."

"I guess I can let it slide since your visits are always a special occasion." You say with a bright smile,similar to the one you showed Hisoka. This irks Chrollo slightly but he just smiles back,happy to be in your warm presence once more. Chrollo sets the bags onto the table in your kitchen,knowing exactly what you're about to do.

He predicts you correctly because he feels your pillow like arms wrap around his shirtless middle. He could feel the affection you radiate for him—feeling it soak and burn itself into his body. It's the feeling of authenticity—real,not fake like Chrollo's learned emotions. That's why he liked being with you so much,you invoke a mystery feeling for him—a feeling he must learn to keep and nurture.

Your chubby face leans against the furriness of his warm jacket—the burning feeling of your cheek resting on his back. "I missed you." You croak out weakly. Were you crying for his long awaited absence? Chrollo smiles,wiggling his fingers to intertwine with yours that are securely wrapped around his torso. "I know you have my needy little spider. Tell me what you've been up to during my absence?"

Chrollo knew what you have been up to,always. But he wanted to see if you'd divulge in instances like Hisoka,an instance he had no clue about til now. How'd that slip past him? Would his little spider lie to him? He can't wait to see. He turns to face you,finding that yes,you were crying. Your eyelashes are wet and slightly more clumped together and your expression is frumpy—a small frown gently tugging at your lips. Chrollo hates and loves you're crying over him. He hates that you're sad and not crying because he's fucked you to the deepest edge of pleasure,those being the only tears you should be shedding with him. And he loves it because you're feeding into him so well,you're so receptive and even more affectionate than Chrollo himself. Perfect.

This is all going in fruition,all according to Chrollo's well thought out scheme. From your first ever encounter Chrollo found you intriguing and by the second one he knew he wanted you as strictly his. So the leader knows how gentle he has to be with you,knows he needs to slowly lead you into his obsessive hold. But tonight changed everything,Hisoka was involved with you. And that meant one thing to Chrollo—competition.

Chrollo doesn't know why the clown is interested in you but he knows for a fact that he's hanging around you for a specific reason. He's obsessed with something about you or worse obsessed with you as a whole. With Hisoka in the way,Chrollo can't smoothly lead you into his web and trap you. No,instead he has to deal with another greedy predator before he can get you.

"I'm too tired to talk about all that 'Ollo." You mutter. He knows he can't push you too far so he drops it for now. "Mmm,I knew you looked a little tired. Do you want to rest on me?" He offers gently. He sees you nod so he elegantly grips your hand pulling you with him as he sits down on one of your dining chairs.

"Chrollo I didn't think you meant on your lap!" You spew in a flustered manner. You wiggle in his grasp only making him wrap two strong arms around your fleshy middle. "Don't fight me,you'll never win. Just sit here with me." He says soothingly. You peer back at him—your body getting hotter as you get to see his handsome face in person once more. You note his cross tattoo on his forehead that sits in harmony with the rest of his handsome face,the nice slicked back comb over that shows off his pale and clear features. But nothing compares to the few times you seen Chrollo with his hair in his face—the style framing his facial structure in such a flattering way.

"Chrollo can I....?" There's a pause,the rest of the vowels and syllables unsure if they should continue. "Hmm?" He asks. "Can I play with your hair?" It comes out shy,too shy and it causes the man you're sitting on to burst out in laughter. "Whattt?" You whine. "Nothing,it's just how hesitant you were. It's cute,don't worry about it. But to answer,yes,you may."

He likes how you grin up at him for the agreement of your affection. But he finds it silly that you don't know how much he craves your touch. It's gentle and kind,much like you. Do you not notice how he always slightly hums when you rub him or even fiddle with his fingers? Do you not notice how he shuts his eyes contentment? It's amazing that you don't know what effect you have on him.

Your chubby hand reaches up and starts playing with the strands,occasionally going up further to calmingly rub at his scalp. It's silent,like it often is when you have Chrollo as company. You guys do talk but most of the time that is spent with Chrollo is tranquil—void of anything but quietness.

"Chrollo?" You call out again. "Hmm?" His eyes are shut,enjoying the treatment of having his hair played with. You don't know what compels you to ask this but after the events with Hisoka touching you in such a intimate way...you really can't help it. "How do you feel about me?"

The air is thick,coated with tension that the sharpest knife couldn't even cut. It feels like hours before he answers and honestly you felt like crying just out of the pure embarrassment you felt. Chrollo's grip on your middle runs down to your abundant hips—gripping possessively at them. "I feel happy around you...genuinely happy, in a way I haven't felt since I was a little kid in Meteor City. I feel real around you, like I don't have to reel you in with any charm or tricks because you simply like me. I like that simplicity of that,how you actually like me and I can't help but keep coming back for more of you. The way I feel about you (Reader)..." he grips even tighter on your pliant hips,"is something I never felt before."

Chrollo barely scrapped the tip of the iceberg of how he feels about you. He wouldn't dare tell you that he's deeply obsessed with your existence. Wouldn't even dare speak of the grotesque acts he's ordered down on others for the sake of the relationship he wants to build with you. That would ruin his slow conditioning he's enforced since day one.

"C-Chrollo I don't know what to say..." you slump in his lap,staring back at him in uncertainty. His warm lips lean down to grace the little exposed skin of your neck,"Then don't think..just feel how I want to you to feel for the rest of your time with me." Your brows crinkle at that,what could that possibly mean? But then you feel it...the feeling of Chrollo's talented hands explore the expanse of your body.

It feels like whiplash having this happen twice,especially so close in time. It almost makes you feel dirty—ashamed for allowing not one but two men to touch you in such a way. The only thing stopping you from pulling you away from Chrollo is how good his hands felt on your clothed body.

They wander,touching your covered chest—squeezing the fatty flesh in a vice grip. "You're...so soft." Chrollo murmurs,almost in a trance. "Mmf t-thank you!" You hurriedly spit out. His hand goes to your tummy—his slippery fingers creep underneath your thick turtleneck,the cool contact of his skin making you gasp lewdly. "You sound so good too." He hums.

Underneath you,you couldn't ignore the hard bulge pressing against your ass. You could feel the imprint of it,even the bent shaft that's partly stuffed into the side of his pocket. It's big—really big,at least it feels like it. Hands that lay beneath your shirt—touching and caressing the rolls that adorn the sides of your torso—the fingertips touch you so gently causing the illusion of soft kisses riddling your tummy. "You're such a sweet thing, everything about you is malleable,so moldable. You're perfect,so perfect." Chrollo whispers in your ear,the tone full of affection and lust.

"Don't say that...'M not perfect." You deny. "No but you are to me. You're everything I could ever want." He kisses your ear,a loving action. Ironic for a thief to say—to admit he's fulfilled with you yet he and his troupe still take from the weak. "I want to do something,is that okay with you,my spider?" You look up at him,glazing trust in your eyes that makes Chrollo melt. "Okay." You say breathlessly.

"Turn to face me,I want you to sit on one of my thighs,okay?" You look at him curiously but you still find your legs straddling his thigh. "Good,good." He places his hands back on your hips,the warmth making you feel even hotter than you initially were. "I want you to move now. You can do that right,(Reader)?"

"M-Move?" You repeat. Chrollo could see the worry paint your pretty features—he wants to laugh but he holds it in. "Don't think,my darling. Just do as I say. You'll feel good,I promise." His honeyed voice oozes dominance despite the leveled tone he speaks with. "Move." He says.

It's like there's some type of drug in his voice—something that compels you to follow his orders. You start moving very slowly on his thigh,barely feeling any friction. But the small moments you do your posture shoots up straight like an arrow and small pleasures gasps tumble off your tongue.

Chrollo watches you as he normally does—drinking in your reaction. This was rash—Chrollo wasn't planning to introduce something so sexual to you yet,he was going to wait to establish his feelings for you and organically build what he wanted with you—slowly grooming you for his obsessive and possessive ways to the point you wouldn't question him. But something in him snapped,perhaps it was the questioning of how he felt or the realization of Hisoka's unexpected company.

Chrollo's possessive and he supposes he wants leave a mark on you. He figures you hadn't let Hisoka get away with something this far and he'd be the first and only. "Take off your pants for me." You look up at him,anxiety coating your glazed pupils,"C-Chrollo no one's ever seen me like that before ..." His expression softens,the lust in his eyes practically fading away.

Perfect! Perfect! No one has touched or seen you in such a way,this was amazing news for the man vexed with you. He could have you fully to himself if he played his cards right—he has the urge to be greedy right now and completely strip you away from your virginity. But he decides against it,his little spider would take baby steps to him just like he planned. Plus he's already pushing the limits by initiating something so sexual.

"Oh my love,no need to be shy with me. I love how you look regardless,just trying to make you feel good,that's all. But I can't do that if you keep your pants and panties on." His tone is babying,talking down to you like a learning a child. "Would you please take them off for me, hmm?" He makes it sound like a suggestion but you get the feeling it's not—just a gentler method of getting what he wants from you.

You slide off his thigh,standing upright and leisurely unbuttoning your pants. It's slow,shy and accidentally seductive to the man before you. You could feel his eyes burn into you,making you even more insecure than you'd like to be. Chrollo usually makes you feel safe despite his dangerous status,yet something's different within him now. This is the first time you've ever felt smaller to Chrollo—powerless and forced to a meek little thing that obeys him. Chrollo feels carnal—lacking his gentleness he usually exudes,reduced to nothing more than a predator succumbing to his hunger.

Your pants pool to your ankles and you're regretfully reminded of the poor choice of underwear for this moment. They're dingy and old,comfort panties—not a really hot guy wants me to get half naked for him panties. It embarrasses you to no end so you find yourself quickly pulling them down—a stark contrast to the pace of your pants. But once you pull them down you feel another embarrassment,a more permanent one.

Hair litters your mound,blocking any view of the inner beauty that's in between the fat lips. At this point you wouldn't even like to indulge in anything with the man you find so attractive. Your hands go to cover your private area,ashamed of the hair that basically hides your pussy. "Don't—Don't hide for me. I want to see everything." He says.

"But I haven't shaved or anything and it doesn't even look good and and—" You're cut off—two strong arms wrap around your wrist to pull you in and once your are you're met with a hot kiss that quickly gets broken. "Nonsense,it's just as pretty as it would be bare. Don't shame what I want to call mine—saying it doesn't look good is an insult to me. Especially cause I'm so hard for you—look," he pauses to pull your hand to his throbbing length,"you feel that,that's for you,my shy girl." Your finger's carefully trace the shape,causing the man to wince a little in unreleased pleasure.

"As much as I'd like to feel you touch me...this isn't about me. Get on the edge of the table and spread your legs for me." You obey,awaiting the man's actions with opened legs. He hums appreciatively,eyeing the wet slit he gets to see now—he eats up how the the moisture slightly sticks to the pubes,finding it incredibly erotic knowing he made you that wet. His hands slide you even more forward to the point you'll fall front ways if he wasn't nestled in between your thighs.

He places his thigh to the height of your cunt,pulling you closer by your ass cheeks. You gasp as his fingers dig into the self made holes of cellulite that riddle your ass. Another gasp falls from you as he now fully sits you on his thigh. You wonder if it'll give out soon due to your not so light weight but you don't voice this,knowing Chrollo would wave the notion away.

"Now you can move." Chrollo states. It's a few seconds before you think to move but Chrollo gives a warning slap on your ass to obey him. Your shaking hands grip onto his muscular shoulders—your pelvis making an effort to move back and forth onto the expanse of his thigh.

Small mewls and whimpers of pleasure tumble out your o shaped lips. But that's not good enough for Chrollo—no he needs to hear you moan for him. He abuses his grip on your ass by forcing you to move faster—harder onto his leg. "Just like that...just like that. You're doing so good...I could feel your slick go through my pants,so cute how wet you are for me."

He leans into you,kissing your face affectionately in a loving manner instead of a lustful one. His lips set sights on the little skin of your neck that's exposed from the turtle neck and they latch on—sucking and biting his claim onto you. He pulls away to look at his work,admiring how the mark is a slight darker complexion compared to your skin color. His eyes watch at your expression—engrossed in your ajar mouth that moans for him and your shut eyes that are closed so tight the skin around your eyes wrinkle.

He feels his cock throb at the sight—the sight of your hips stuttering occasionally against him,the sight of your hairy pussy spread apart by his thigh—it's not only the view that leaves him throbbing it's feeling of your oozing wetness seeping into his pants,coating his pale skin underneath.

"Chrollo!" You whine,the grip of his shoulders tightening immediately. "You're gonna cum soon,aren't you?" You furiously nod. His hands once again move you faster against him,his grip onto your ass being unbreakable. "That's right...cum for me,yes that's a good girl. So good,so good!"

He feels your hurried breaths against him,the desperate whines that flee your parted lips—dull fingers dig into the warmth of his usual coat. You begin to feel like a weak tree flailing in the wind,loosing control of your own stimulated body. Your ministrations come to an halt,leaving Chrollo confused,he hasn't felt you cum so why'd you stop? "Why'd you stop?" The way he says it is calm yet you could hear the annoyance slightly oozing out. "Just need a break,'m not used to feeling so much." You reason breathlessly.

"Did I tell you to stop?" He asks. "No but—" He silences you with a sentence,"No,that's right. I didn't so that means don't stop." He slaps your ass roughly—a consequence,no a reminder he's the one who's in control. "I'm sorry Chrollo, I didn't mean it like that!" The man hushes you,rubbing your head gently,"I know,I know,you're not used to something like this but you just need obedient which I know such a smart girl like you can be. But instead of one orgasm,you're gonna have to give me as many as I would like,okay?"

You nod warily,not wanting to disappoint Chrollo once more. "Good girl. Now,start again." The minute you pick up momentum it's a never ending attack of orgasms against your cunt. You begin to lose hold of your conscious,only becoming a slobbering mess on top of Chrollo.

Babbles upon babbles escape you to the point you don't care what you say. You have no room to think—no room to even breath,the sex filled air snuffing your senses. And throughout each earth shattering orgasm Chrollo's there to talk you through it. Soft hymns of praises direct your eardrums to keep moving,to keep grinding your cunt on his thigh.

But you can't take it anymore,your abdomen aches from thrusting so hard,your heart is beating so rapidly,and not to mention the dull feeling that throbs uncomfortably between your dripping thighs. You slump forward into the shirtless man, unable to even hold your body up anymore,your back is met with Chrollo rubbing soft circles on it,kissing the side of your temple as he does so.

"Good,that's enough now. Let's take you to bed." You huff against him tiredly,furthering your position to lean on him more. He easily lifts you up,grabbing the underside of your thighs with his hand to keep your body snug against him. He walks you over to your bedroom,gently setting you down onto the fluffy mattress once he arrives.

He walks around your room,somehow knowing just which drawer you keep your panties in and he grabs a comfortable pair that he cautiously slides up your meaty legs. "Don't leave mee 'Ollo. Please,won't get to see you again." You sleepily call out. Chrollo smiles amusedly,"I won't leave. Don't worry. I'll take care of your while you sleep." He reassures,although it's a lie.

He would be leaving as soon as you shut your eyes but not because he wants to. Because has to. He knows you'll be upset about it in the morning,hurt and conflicted by his disappearance. You wouldn't have to suffer that any longer though,soon you'd always be by his side. He 'd have you in his web,soon,maybe sooner considering the complication of Hisoka.

He watches you collapse into slumber,leering over you like a overbearing shadow. His apparent bulge standing even more upright,he now wishes he had let your warm supple hand wrap around his cock while you pleasured yourself. He sighs,annoyed with himself. He supposes he could use your still moist cum and slick as lube when he gets back to his "home." That would be fine,his imagination could the rest of work just alright.

He gives you one last loving look before bending down and placing a soft kiss to your lips. With that Chrollo leaves you in the night,resting,knowing you'd be searching for him in the morning.

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It's been two whole weeks since you've seen both Chrollo and Hisoka. You've called and texted Hisoka,only to be met with voicemails and unread texts. You would've done the same with Chrollo but it would've been futile because the man always has new numbers due to his chosen profession.

Your heart burns and your brain won't stop scolding yourself for being so easy. You've gone all your life being untouched in such a way yet these two man in the same night made it seem like easy work. Maybe you were too trusting...putting too much faith in evil men. You wonder what you've done wrong...were you feeding in too much? Or were you too shy?

Tears sting your vision,blinding you as you attempt to stay attentive to the cheesy romcom you've put on for some comfort. You want to slap yourself and get a grip but you can't. Your booming heart hurts,the feeling of being used aches so deeply it's unforgettable. You begin to tell yourself that's all they possibly wanted from you anyway,you were just something entertaining,not anything of value.

Your mind goes back to the moments you've shared with them both,happy and memorable times that help aid the heaviness you feel weigh at you. What if you fought back their advances? What if you said you wanted to keep things strictly platonic despite the strong attraction to them both? What if? What if? What if? What if? Dozens of scenarios flash through your mind of what could be now if you just said no...

Your wallowing session is cut short though due to a sharp knock on the front door. You arise from your couch for the first time in hours and waddle over to the door. And once you open it you wish you weren't dressed like a hobo right now. The saggy oversized shirt and underwear combo not being a good look in front of the handsome man on the doorstep.

"Illumi!" You shout embarrassingly. You try to seem put together but you know it's useless. Your eyes are dark and baggy,your usual warm looking face is cold and sad. And that's without including the tear stains on your pudgy cheeks. You want to run and hide from Illumi's watchful gaze but you wouldn't even be able to run from him.

You can't help the urge to scrunch into yourself,to disappear into a hole and be swallowed completely for the shame that runs hot in your system. "Who made you cry?" He asks darkly. "Oh n-no one Lumi. I'm just real emotional lately because of hormones.."

The lie doesn't seem to work because Illumi because he only asks again only more irritated. Normally you wouldn't dare to tell Illumi about someone that hurt,knowing the man would murder the person who upset you. But you're so vulnerable,so hurt,so sensitive and needy for any sense of comfort. That neediness leads you crashing into the leanly muscled chest of Illumi as you sob and tell him what transpired two weeks prior,regrettably leaving out no details.

Needless to say the man who came over here to ask(demand) for your hand in marriage is furious. Of course,they got to you first. Of course,they already exposed you to the carnal urges that Illumi's been barely able to hold back in your presence. The pale man attempts to not take his anger out on you but he can't help it. The loose grasp he held on you,now tightening uncomfortably so. You attempt to pull away from him but his strength keeps you towards his chest.

"Lumi,you're hurting me!!" You don't sound upset,only panicked. You know the man isn't used to his strength,similar to a baby who just learned to walk. That snaps him out of it and he loosens his hold,blinking coyly as does so. "Apologies." He says. "It's okay just be gentle with me,I'm not like you. I can't take such force casually."

He nods thoughtfully,staring down at you with his empty doll like eyes. "Umm would you like to come inside? I'll make us some tea and then I'll even play with your hair too if you'd likeee." You say singsong. You didn't have to bribe Illumi with playing with his hair he would've came inside regardless—finding you and your home comforting. That's not even putting in account how much Illumi missed you.

"Okay." He agrees plainly. "Good!" You say happily,pulling him in. The pair of you walk into your home,Illumi shutting and locking the door behind him. "Sorry for the mess...I've been a little sad since you know..." It angers Illumi that you missed them so much,that they made you hurt,that they had your attention. And what about him? Had you forgotten him since you weren't nursing him back to health anymore?

Illumi couldn't have you caring more about anyone besides him. Jealousy floods through his veins,that's he's far too angry to communicate. "You could sit down 'Lumi! I'll be in just a minute." You turn to walk to the kitchen only to be stopped by a strong grasp. You look down at Illumi's clasped hand around your wrist. "Lumi?" You voice,confused.

"Stay. I want you to sit with me." His request is void of emotion,sounding like a reading of a poor script but you know better than that. You know he's missed you but can't express it in the proper way. "Okay,whatever you want Illumi." You smile at him,kind and in the gummy way he often thinks about.

The stoic man ends up sitting in between your thighs,the position being decided on the offer of playing with his hair which you're happily doing. You hum as you do so,fingers running in the silky follicles. Your talk mostly about what you've been up to,deciding to leave Hisoka and Chrollo out of it after you dumped that information to the assassin earlier. Illumi only talks when you ask him a question about his life and it's always met with something vague that you don't mind at all.

Your meaty fingers start to work on a small braid in his hair but your fingers stutter when Illumi asks a odd question. "Did you enjoy it when Chrollo and Hisoka touched you like that?" The silence is deafening and you swear you could feel yourself swallow your lax tongue. " Lumi why would you want to know that?"

"Answer." He demands. You sigh,feeling ashamed of your answer,"Yes." At this point your hands have let go of the man's hair,finding refuge in your lap where they twiddle with other fingers. "Would you enjoy it if I touched you like that?" The question sounds innocent but the implication of what he's asking sinks into you.

"Illumi I don't think you know what you're saying..." You mutter shyly. "I do,I know of sexual intercourse and I know that's something I'd like to do with only you." Heat rushes up your body,his blunt words absorbing in your mind. "Illumi...I don't know what to say."

"Say you'd like to have sex with me too. I plan to make you my betrothed,to make you the mother of future heirs. I'd take care of you and bed you every night." One thing you missed about Illumi was his curt honesty but his multiple confessions were too much to handle right now. "Lumi are you okay? This is all so sud—"

Your breath catches in your throat when Illumi turns back out his dull eyes starring into yours and at this moment you realize how grave this situation is. Illumi's not one for sarcasm or for doing things without cause. You know he means every word he said.

"I am fine,I just want to make you mine and breed you already. Marry me (Reader)." Your eyes go wide and your mouth flacks open. This is just too much too process! Only thirty minutes ago you were wallowing in sadness and desperation and presently you just got offered a marriage proposal.

"Illumi I can't just give an answer right now...I do care for you a lot and—" Illumi asks a pointed question,"Do you love me?" Do you love Illumi? You think of him often,you call him all the time,you connect with him. He has a special place in your heart as the quiet man you saved so long ago..so yes,you do love Illumi.

"Yes I do but I can't just marry you so soon.You haven't even asked to be my boyfriend yet,let alone a husband." You say gently. Illumi looks confused,"Why not? Do you need convincing?" Your brows raise in curiosity,what type of convincing could change your mind about out of the blue engagement?

Illumi answer that question the moment he pounces on your dry lips,his desperate tongue moistening the skin as he begs for entrance inside. Due to shock you accidentally give him an opening and he takes it instantly. You feel bad for your stinky breath that most likely tastes like junk food but Illumi doesn't seem to care as he grips your chubby face in his hands.

He pulls away and searches your eyes for an answer, a clue on how you feel about his actions."I want to fuck you. I want to claim you so no other man like Chrollo and Hisoka can ever say they've been inside you. I want you now. Let me take you please."

Maybe the hungry kiss drove your brain to mush? Maybe the need for comfort kicked in at it's ultimate form? Or maybe it was the pool of slick that built up in your plain cotton panties—that convinced you to say yes. The second the man gets your agreement,you're forced to lay flat on your back,legs spread and your t-shirt raised to your braless chest.

Illumi slots himself in between your thighs,his cool and slender hands running up and your textured legs. Your brain scolds yourself for not shaving the limbs,you feel the need to apologize for being so hairy but you're stopped by Illumi's vague praise. "So soft. You feel good."

Illumi's hands travel higher to your inner thigh gripping the excess fat that adorns it. His grasp is bruising and stings in a way but it feels pleasant at the same time. Black eyes stare straight at your mound,locked in on the wet spot produced by slick. He moves with quickness to slide off his loosely fitting pants leaving him in his briefs that are fighting to constrain his hard length.

Pale hands pull your form closer to him—his bulge now flush with your cunt. Your legs rest on his shoulders while he experimentally thrusts his hips. He languidly moves back and forth against the warmth of your cunt. You begin to unsteadily breath as the tip of dick makes contact with your clit, a faint keen fleeing from your mouth. Squeaks here and there come from you,on the other hand your counterpart is being completely silent.

The only way you could tell Illumi is finding the friction pleasurable is his oozing tip dripping pre-cum. It feels slightly embarrassing to you that you're the only one crying out from stimulation especially because that's one of the few sounds you can hear besides the sounds of chaffing fabric. You want to hear Illumi feeling good too—the solo of your sexual noises not being good enough any longer.

Your hands gently reach for the roots of his hair and ever so slightly tug—the man groans quietly but you could still hear it. But similar to the silence of the room—rubbing crotches isn't enough anymore. "Closer 'Lumi,wanna feel you." The man wordlessly curves you body into a U shape,your hips being arched and your lower body resting on his muscular chest. He slides off your panties and places you down on your back.

"Spread." He directs. You obey and spread your legs hesitantly,still shy of being unshaven. Illumi seems irritated of the slow pace and just grabs your inners thighs flat onto the couch. You gasp,finally feeling the cool air on your spread slit. You could feel his hold on your thighs bring the beginning throbbing of bruises staring to form—the sharp pain making your brain dizzy.

"Not so rough 'Lumi..." you warn. He seems to pay you no mind and instead you could feel the grasp tighten. Something hazes his usual empty eyes—lust dominating him and distracting him. Illumi pulls out his bobbing cock—resting his pants underneath his full balls to keep them from interfering.

You're left scared for a few minutes...wondering if this is the very scary second you'll lose your virginity. But instead you're shocked when Illumi's smart fingers squish your fat lips together and slowly so very slowly place his cock in between the moist lips.

The man in between thrusts with a animalistic groan the comes from deep in his covered chest. His cock is warm and it gets even warmer the more frequent his thrusts rub against you cunt. The tip of his cock gently prods and pokes at your clit,making you arch up and whine airily.

" Lumi...!!" You moan. The man looks down at you as he pistons his hips between the fleshy folds—his doll like eyes staring straight into your soul. "You feel,"a low grunt cuts him off,"so good." His thin brows knit together as he admires the sight of his cock sliding in and out of your lips—he groans heartily,enjoying the sight.

There's a crude ring that loudly can be heard throughout the room. Illumi stops his sharp thrusting and glares down at the device interrupting the moment he's been longing for such a long time. He reaches for the phone in his back pocket,answering with a hint of anger in his voice.

However after only a few seconds that anger seemingly melts away. You watch curiously as he seems very interested in whatever the other person on the line has to say. After a few more moments he hangs up and looks at you,"I'll be back,I have something to take care of." He leans down to place a kiss on your forehead—sliding your panties back up onto your spread legs.

"Wait! You can't just leave Illumi! What's so important you have to leave me?" You sound desperate and pouty—unintentionally making you cringe. There's silence before Illumi calmly says,"I have a match to the death." You can practically feel any color of your skin flee your body,"What?! Illumi no! Stay with me please! You can't leave me." It's silly to stop someone who practices in death to not do such a thing—you know that but desperation claws at your heart.

"Please Illumi,stay with me! We can get married and do whatever you'd like but please don't...you might die." Illumi raises a thin brow,"I won't. I'm doing this so I can stay with you. So one else can take your attention away from me." You look at a Illumi with pleading eyes—fat tears threatening to spill,"What do you mean 'Lumi?"

"Chrollo and Hisoka,they're trying to take you away from me. I have to fight them to have you." If the news of him wasn't heart wrenching enough—the information of his opponents being two other men you also hold dear to felt organ failing. You're silent and empty of any feeling for a good minute,your brain and heart so confused on what to feel—to do.

"You can't! Illumi you can't! Please,I'll only belong to you! Just don't go!" You grab onto his lax hand,bringing it to your shaking chest. "I have to. They'll take you away from me if I don't."

You peer at him,glassy eyes staring determinedly to come up with a way for all of them to live.

There had to be something—a solution to ease the pain of losing two of the men who's charmed their way into your life. It finally hits you—they could all share you! They could compromise something,a deal that would leave them satisfied and alive.

"You don't have to that Illumi. You could all share me...I'd still belong to you, just differently." Illumi frees his hand from your touch,"No. I don't want to share you. You belong to me."

You look at him pleadingly gripping his hand,"Please,'Lumi,I'll never be the same if all of you can't be in my life..please." Illumi liked you as you are—kind,gentle,loving and affectionate,so the promise of you not being the same woman he met almost a year ago disheartens him.

He remembers how you welcomed him into your home,constantly being at his side and treating him with so much worry. He couldn't bare to imagine to only have you as a shell of a woman he used to know—the thought being unbearable.

His doll eyes stare into your teary ones deciding that's it better to have a part of you than to have just a shell of what you used to be. "Okay." He hesitantly agrees.

He doesn't miss how you immediately brighten up—smiling widely and tackling him to the floor in a rejoicing hug. He wraps his arms around your round middle, hoping he didn't make the wrong choice.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Look at how many marks they left on you...I thought we would take your first time together but they're just barbaric with you,my dove." The voice purrs out. Long nails trail up your neck that's littered with different and shapes of marks.

"Oh shut up Hisoka, don't act like you don't mark her up." Chrollo hisses. "I'm not saying that but I'm lot more efficient than you. Look—,"Pale hands make work to lift up your pant less leg,showcasing the heart like mark the clown has made,"Isn't it just so much prettier than what you two have left on her?"

"It doesn't matter the marks,she doesn't complain when my fingers are inside h—" You slap your hand over the assassins mouth," Illumi! You can't say things like that!" Thin brows furrow,"Why not?" You huff and sigh," Never mind 'Lumi."

"Illumi's right (Reader),you shouldn't be so shy about thing like that, at least with us. After all tonight's the night." Chrollo says.

That's right,this is the day that was agreed upon,the night the all fuck you,the night they strip you away of your virginity. A few months ago before this night happened it was equally agreed upon they'd all be present during first time and from then on they could fuck all they want when they have their turn with you. This was the only thing the loose binding holding the arrangement of sharing you,the only thing keeping them from getting rid of one another. You'd been so lost with the constant courting from the three men and the jealousy that's constantly paired with obsession that this agreed date had completely slipped your mind. Suddenly you could feel all the anxiety hit you like a ton of bricks.

The most intuitive of the three men seems to notice you visibly stiffening up. "Oh my love,don't be so scared. You'll just have to worry about being on your cocks and that's all you'll have to worry about,okay?" Chrollo comforts. "See? I'm gonna get you all ready and nice and wet for me—I mean us and then you'll be feeling too good to even care." Almost to cement his words Chrollo begins to suckle at your already bruised neck,making other marks. You whine and grip at him,already whimpering pathetically at the simple touch.

"I can't let you just hog her." Hisoka makes a move to slither himself in between your legs,forcing your sitting position to become a laying one. He easily slides of your panties to which you notice he puts in the pocket of his pants. He pulls you away from the Chrollo by grounding your lower half closer to his face. He practically smooches his face and your pussy against each other. You could and hear how he inhales your scent,how his fingers part the fat hairy lips to get a better whiff. He inhales the musky scent—moaning loudly when he can catch the natural musk of the wet organ.

"You smell so good,my dove! But I bet you taste even better.." As soon as said those words his tongue dives into the tight canal—a keen of shocked pleasure coming from you. "Mmm,you feel good,spider?" You nod but that's not the answer the man on top of you wants. He taps the fat of your hips and gives a firm grasp,"Use your words. You have such a pretty voice to answer me with."

"I feel good!" You say—already breathless with the stimulation. "Yeah,who's making you feel good?" You grips his shoulders tighter,"You are!" A hard slap comes to your cellulite ridden thigh,a reminder of the man that's so faithfully fucking your hole with his tongue,"And S-Soka!" The man in between with your thighs rewards you for your answer by moving up to suck your clit,replacing his tongue for fingers instead now.

Chrollo would've preferred you stuck with him only but he doesn't voice that,too distracted by the pebbling nipples underneath the ragged shirt. His hand moves to lift up the shirt and once he does he can't help but eat up the beauty before him. There you are,breasts slightly drooping,the natural weight of them hanging them lower and your hard nipples that are begging to be sucked on. But he can't forget the most supple part of you—your tummy that's constantly moving up due to your heavy breathing,that looks so grippable and plump—and oh my god the soft rolls between the layers of skin makes him want to just sink his fingers into the flesh while he's carefully thrusting into you.

"You're so beautiful,so pretty..." He runs his fingers across your skin,igniting goosebumps to flare up. He bends down to suckle on your breast,you could feel the slight bites and pulls he does with his mouth which has you arching and begging for more. Suddenly another grip is felt and you turn to see an all too focused Illumi,massaging and groping the fat. You almost forgot about his presence due to his lack of talking and action.

He leans down to bring your lips into a feverish kiss. With each lick of Hisoka's tongue,with Chrollo's comforting sucking on breast and Illumi's hungry touch and kiss you find yourself jerking away from their touch. Jumping and flinching away from any affection,the feeling of an orgasm being too strong to handle. But three strong men hands stop you from moving away from the pleasure,forcing you to feel every wave and earthquake that comes crashing down onto your body.

You stay panting open mouthed into Illumi's, body shaking and trying to recover. Chrollo finally pops off your boob,a small smile painting his dark features. "You did so good. So,so,so good." Hisoka arises from your thighs,"Mmh and you tastes so good too." He rubs your unshaven legs,squeezing and gripping the flesh harshly as he does so. He licks the sheeny slick off your lips,making your turn away from the lewd sight.

"Do you think one orgasm has helped you eased up a little?" Chrollo asks. You're about to nod but you remember his words a few minutes and instead opt for verbally answering,"Yes,I can handle everything now."

Chrollo and Hisoka stare at Illumi,warningly. "We're letting you be in her first because you're a virgin too but if you can't control yourself we won't hesitate to hurt you." Chrollo spits out with venom. "And here," Hisoka tosses a colorful green condom his way,"put this on before you fuck her. You won't be breeding her anytime soon." Illumi catches the colorful item and looks at it in disdain,much preferring to fill you with his kids instead. He doesn't resist though and snuggly slides on the protection. You find it intimidating how you're the only one really showing the most skin,Illumi just having his cock out of his pants and Chrollo and Hisoka still relatively clothed as well.

The male walks to your spread legs,his cool hands making sure to spread them even farther for better access. He slots himself between them and places his upper half to partly lean against yours, chest flush with yours. He cradles your face in his single hand and very slowly begins to slide into you.

Your moans and his slight gasps pair together before he's fully in. You felt your self shape and stretch to accommodate the length inserted. "Oh...'Lumi." Your meaty hands reach for his back,slotting the fingers into the muscles on it. He begins an unsure thrust,still trying to get used to the warmth and wetness he could still feel even with the condom. But once he gets the momentum he's practically ramming into,forcing you to call and moan for him,the hands on his back scratching at it.

The motions of the hands stop though because Chrollo reaches for it,bringing it low to touch his now free and throbbing cock. He looks at you expectantly,hunger and desire eating up his charcoal eyes. You wrap an unsure hand around the length,going up and down at a even pace. "Fuck...just like that (Reader). Doing so good." He praises.

You're met with another hungry man,begging for much needed attention. Hisoka's hand turns your face towards your him, a throbbing pink tip being only near millimeters away from your lips. "Say ahh~" You expect him to place his cock in your mouth but instead a long line of saliva falls flat on your tongue. "Swallow it." You do and that's met with astounding praise,"Good girl! Now you deserve my dick." Hisoka slowly slides the the expanse of his dick inside your mouth.

You struggle to move your head but the man aids you by moving your head for you,a large hand bobbing your head up and down. “Mmf! You’re doing so good! Taking me so well!”

You feel yourself melting into the pleasure you’re receiving and giving. You feel comfortably void of any thought—the body taking over any type of consciousness. You don’t know how long you feel Illumi thrust into,making you see stars when he’s particularly rough—you know though that you cum with a muffled moan that vibrates against Hisoka’s cock.

It’s a domino effect it seems—Illumi cums soon after then Chrollo who spurts his cum on your hand and face,finally Hisoka cums in your throat—a slender hand rubbing against the pudge of your cheek,rewarding you for the hard work.

You slump against the bed,feeling like you can actually focus and breath again. “ ‘m tired.” You mumble against Hisoka’s smooth thigh. “No no,that just won’t do. You’re not done yet.” Hisoka purrs. You sit up,”What do you mean?” Chrollo wipes off his cum that’s partially splattered on your forehead and other cheek,bringing his hand to your lips to clean him up. You do while he says something that makes your tired body prepared again,”We want more. We want to feel you more.”

Illumi shows how serious those words are by his flaccid cock getting hard inside again. “It’s my turn to be in her Illumi,don’t be greedy.” Hisoka says. “I get to have her mouth.” Chrollo says happily,already caressing your puffy lips.

For the rest of the night they use you as a unit—abusing every hole they can get their greedy cock in. Working as a group for their own selfish reason—you.

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED🫶🏽🫶🏽!! TYSM FOR READING!

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corkinavoid · 1 month

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DPxDC How to Train Your Chaos

Okay, so, Tiny Creature, but it's not Danny, it's Ellie. And she fell out from a natural portal, which are Lazarus Pits in DC dimension. And League picked her up.

Now, Danny might try fighting out of the situation or communicating with someone, or whatever else his anxious teenage ass is capable of doing while he is locked in a Tiny Creature state. Ellie, though? She would take the opportunity to create as much chaos as she could. After all, if she decides she wants to go back, she can always call for Danny, or plain phase through the walls, and jump back into the natural portal since it seems pretty stationary.

But, as a free spirit with a knack for exploring and mischief, she would never miss a chance to mess with a whole base of assassins!

After a month of continuous bullshit caused by the little pit demon (and some new gray hairs), Ra's decides he's had enough. This creature is useless and troubling. How does he get rid of it?

Wait, Damian loves pets.

Cue Damian arriving in Nanda Parbat or wherever Ellie appeared, immediately falling in love with the new weird pit-demon-lizard-cat, spending a week trying to get on its friendly side while Ellie is just having fun making him run around the place, but eventually she agrees to go with Damian to Gotham - hey, it's a new place and a lot of new people to terrorize, the assassins are getting used to her antics already! - and enthusiasticly blending in with the Bats' weirdness.

Platonic or romantic doesn't matter, just imagine Damian jumping down from the roof in front of some goon, sword in hand:

Damian: I do not want to waste my time on this, even my cat could deal with you

Goon: excuse me, I know you're, like,The Stabby Robin, but a cat-

Ellie, a Tiny Creature made of nightmares, her definitely human smile filled with sharp teeth, in a fake cat-voice: mrrr-meow?

Goon: ..........I changed my mind, how about I just head to the nearest police station, bye

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #danielle phantom #ellie phantom #dani phantom #damian wayne #serious chaos #tiny creatures #robin #cork writes #cork prompts

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pearlymel · 1 month

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The last time when...

Synopsis : you're an assassin. Your next mission? Get rid of your husband.

Warnings : Sylus × gn! reader, angst angst, death, miscommunication, blood, 1.6k wc.

Notes : if this broke your heart a lil bit, then i will make an apology letter by making a part 2 where they're all a happy family and alive 😓

When was the last time you looked at your husband and thought; how crazy must you have been to be with this as equally crazy man?

Or when was the last time he looked at you and thought; how lucky he was that you were able to tolerate him, to marry him, even.

He knew. And you thought you were able to hide your true occupation just well.

He seemed calm right in front of you while your hands were shaking.

He.. was the target?

Let's take this back to yesterday.

You were pushing your motorbike to its limits as you tore down the dark, winding roads, the sound of gunfire ringing out behind you. Bullets whizzed past you, narrowly missing their mark as you expertly maneuvered the motorcycle to avoid getting hit.

Your heart pounded in your chest as adrenaline rushed through your veins. You could hear the shouts and curses of your pursuers, their voices full of anger and frustration.

Despite the danger and the high-speed chase, you manage to keep your composure and reach for the gun holstered at your waist. With a quick and practiced motion, you whip it out and aim it behind you, training it on your pursuers.

Bullets continue to fly in your direction, but you return fire, hoping to buy yourself some time and discourage them from closing in on you.

You safely escaped, for now.

You were either going to get killed by them or by Sylus if he finds out you put yourself recklessly into danger.

Let alone burrowing his motorbike for this mission.

Stupid organisation, you mutter to yourself as you kick your boots off, the snowy weather certainly wasn't helping with your thoughts either.

You had hoped to leave your old life behind, especially after marrying Sylus. But that was a year ago, and the phone call from your old organization has shattered that illusion of peace. These assholes.

They had one more job for you, a job they think no one can ever successed in, unless it was you.

They didn't even tell you who your target is. Just simply send in you the location instead.

As you push open the door to your shared bedroom, your heart sinks when you see that Sylus is still awake. His eyes are fixed on you, and judging by the expression on his face, he is far from pleased.

His arms are crossed in front of his chest, a stern frown creasing his forehead as he regards you silently, waiting for an explanation.

“i was visiting a friend,” you explain, your grip of steel around the doorknob.

Sylus doesn't seem convinced by your flimsy story. He continues to stare at you, "Visiting a friend," he repeats, sarcastically.

“Mephisto says otherwise.”

That damned crow.

“I'd like it if you stopped stalking me.” You say bitterly. And it's true, his eyes seem to be everywhere, anywhere.

That's why you made sure to quit being an assassin before getting together with him. You wanted a happy, peaceful life as well.

“You're saying it like I'm some sort of creep or stranger.” he drawled, stepping closer to look down at you, and his crimson eyes seem to shine brighter in the dark as he lifts your chin up.

“I'm your husband, i have the right to know why my partner is late.” he squinted his eyes at you before letting go off your chin to turn away.

“Get some rest.” Sylus retreated back to bed. You both didn't speak a word that night, both of your backs facing the other, and you think the weather might have become colder.

—

They have threatened to hurt the people you love most if you don't do this one last mission.

You still feel upset that you didn't clear things up with Sylus last night, you hate fighting with him, but if it has to come down to this, then you'd rather protect him.

You made sure no one would follow you this time, not even Mephisto.

Let's say you did some adjustments on him.

Sorry lil guy.

It's probably not clever to leave your trail of footsteps behind on this particularly heavy snowy day, but they said your target would be here. Right at this time. And this place.

What an odd feeling.

Your body goes taut as you suddenly hear the sound of snow being crushed underfoot. It's a familiar sound that immediately puts you on alert. In a flash, you turn around, your gun gripped tightly and ready to fire.

Sylus.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you recognize the figure emerging from the falling snow.

Shock flood through you, your body instinctively relaxing a fraction as you lower your gun, "Sylus," you exhale breathlessly, the tension in your muscles melting away momentarily.

He observed you with a gaze that felt like it cut deep into your very core. There was no anger in his eyes, no hatred, no rage. Just a quiet resignation. “It's strange,” he says, his voice low, “fate bringing us here like this.”

He wasn't armed. He most likely knew.

Wait, he's.. the target?

He noticed your reaction, but there was no flicker of fear in his eyes. Despite your step back, he continued his approach, slowly and deliberately. His eyes never left you, yet there was not a threat in them, just...resignation...understanding?

Sylus was close, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body, so warm in the cold, he reached out and gently brushed the hair that had plastered itself to your face, to reveal your expression of fear.

“step… back.”

“and why should i do that?”

“I'll shoot,” the words slip from your tongue quicker than you could stop yourself from saying it.

He simply lifted one eyebrow at the sight of the gun now pointed at his chest, unperturbed. “Is that how you greet your husband dearest?” he asks, the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth with his head tilted slightly to the side.

He was so infuriatingly calm, like there was nothing to worry about.

His smile only widened, and he lifted his hand to rest it on the gun, his fingers gently tracing the barrel, bringing it closer to him, and you gasp, “but don’t you know how much I love getting under your skin, sweetie?”

“Don't—!” you drawed your hand back when his fingertips played dangerously near the trigger, sending your heart to almost stop. You step back again.

He knew you wouldn’t shoot.

“What the hell are you doing?” he said, his voice dropping the smooth façade once you aim the gun at yourself.

“Put that down, now.” he stepped closer to you, your warnings going through deaf ears before he became impatient, resolving this by using his evol, the energy manipulation red and black strands wrapping around your hand and taking the weapon away from your hold to throw it to the side.

Well, you were certainly no match for him.

“I can explain.” You sounded defeated, a fool. You knew you were going to face the consequences if you don't do something now. “I'm really sorry.”

“do that when we get home—”

Sylusd didn't get to finish what he was about to say, and he didn't freeze either when he heard the familiar sounds of gunshots going off.

Gunshots. Aimed directly at you.

He had no time to look around at the source of danger, everything felt like it wad going in slow motion when be was reaching his arm, his body out to protect you and shield you.

Only to find you on your knees in a blink of an eye, your body limp and falling into the pile of snow.

Sylus shouted your name in fear as he knelt beside you, gathering you gently in his arms, his voice a strangled gasp. He held you close, his eyes wild while his hands palpated your body, searching for the wound.

Two gunshots. Shot right through your chest and stomach.

No, no, no.

Sylus has never felt more scared than he was right now, with your crimson blood seeping quickly, melting down with the snow, even when he was taking off his coat and shirt, all to apply pressure on your wound.

He clutched you, his hands trembling, “stay with me," he pleaded, his voice hoarse. "Please, please stay with me.” His mind raced, frantically thinking of what to do, of why the blood wouldn't stop running down, your eyes so tired and almost dull, oh how he felt so helpless right now.

He clenched his jaw, the unfamiliar tears starting to gather around his eyes.

“You’re not quitting on me,” he muttered, the anger in him rising. “You don’t get to quit on me, damn it. You’re not dying on me. Not today, not anytime soon.”

“So—sorry..”

Your last breath. Sylus’ world came shattering down as your eyes lost their light and your body went still in his arms. There was no breath left, no pulse, just deafening silence and the harsh wind.

Your last words were an apology. Not an ‘i love you’ nor ‘take care’.

He refused to believe it. He refused to accept that you were gone, that your lips would never say his name again, that your hands would never touch his skin again.

”Don’t leave me.”

…

“please?”

…

“Are you really.. going to leave me to be alone again? ”

Sylus only remembers seeing red and white that day. The prettiest angel resting in his arms with their precious blood mixed with the cold embrace of the snow.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace angst #sylus angst

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dawnchorus-if · 2 months

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‎ ‎‎

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ Your sister is dead, murdered and mutilated and left to rot in a brothel like a sickly dog. You finally know your purpose: revenge.

DAWN CHORUS is an 18+ interactive fiction about death, love, and the song of new morning. Demo TBA.

You live in The Rocks, a decaying settlement in the shadowed outskirts of the kingdom, Cape Lyra. Once a cozy village, The Rocks has withered into a decrepit ruin since the assassination of King Cedric. Queen Lyra, for whom the kingdom was named, became consumed by grief and neglected the outer villages. Now, The Rocks is a place where even the birds come to die.

Desperate to earn money for the both of you, your sister ventured to Cape Lyra with her best friend, Jax. Only Jax returned, covered in your sister's blood, with a hazed description of her killer. Driven by the need for retribution, you and Jax set out for the kingdom, determined to find and punish the sick soul who took your sister's life. When revenge is your only remaining purpose, a life for a life only seems fair.

You hope.

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎Fully customise yourself, from your name and appearance to your sexuality to your greatest woes and wants. Choose your approach to grief, to anger, to revenge—drown in your sorrows or push them aside in favour of a... different kind of vice. Curate a story that revolves around who you are, and what you'll stand for.

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ Explore relationships with six different romanceable characters, and a multitude of other characters to befriend (or behead). Interact with a diverse cast of characters, each with their own impact to leave on the story. Just... be careful who you trust, some people might not be who they say they are.

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ Find out what really happened to your sister. Hunt down her killer, or killers, and determine your own ability to play executioner on her behalf. Open doors to dark rooms in the royal family history, find out that there's a lot more darkness in Cape Lyra than there is light.

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ Get involved in the politics of Cape Lyra. The people can only be neglected for so long before they start to revolt, right? What side of history will you be on? Or will you be too blinded by grief to care who gets hurt?

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ Exorcise a demon, maybe.

DAWN, born amidst the morning birdsong, the cherished youngest child of King Cedric and Queen Lyra, and the heir apparent to the throne. They don't often get to see outside of Cape Lyra's walls, so don't fault them for being a little juvenile in their knowledge of the world, it's not born from a lack of desire. There's a youthful charm to Dawn, and a deep-seated eagerness to know more about the kingdom they'll one-day rule. [M/F, 22]

ASA KYNES, climbing the ranks as one of Cape Lyras most dedicated royal guards, Kynes is as formidable as they are resolute. You won't get past them very easily, they've got keen judgement skills, and you're up to something, they're sure of it. Kynes is loyal, and more than willing to lay their life down in servitude to the monarchy. Getting Kynes to open up is hard, but may be more than worth it. [M/F, 26]

JAX HANSLEY, your sisters best friend and now your accomplice in avenging her. Jax is royalty in The Rocks, charismatic beyond belief and has been teasing you since you were just starting to walk. Extravagant and always looking for something to do, you'll never find yourself bored around them. Plus, you couldn't get rid of Jax even if you wanted to, they're the closest thing to family that you have left. [M/F, 24]

CERYS SELINE, owner and face of The Rabbits Foot, Cape Lyra's busiest tavern. Cerys is a stern woman who works her ass off day and night, but there's a sweet undertone to the way she speaks: something nurturing. She's a pillar of the kingdom, well-connected and respected. There's more to her than meets the eye, sure, but for now she's more than willing to aid you in finding your sisters killer. [F, 26]

ARTHUR CASE, a priest who has been ousted from the kingdom for reasons he just won't speak aloud. Left with only one leg and crumbs of his faith, he's living in his late father's old church a short trek from the kingdoms gates. Pop in for a service one day, maybe confessionals don't always have to be one-sided. [M, 29]

??? — something cold in the shadows, and its eyes are on you.

DAWN CHORUS contains some heavy topics, such as graphic depictions of death, violence, drug use, explicit language and skippable sexual content. Classism is also a present topic. Readers discretion is advised.

reblogs r so appreciated and asks are more than welcome ^^

#upcoming if #interactive fiction #writeblr #writers of tumblr #choicescript #dashingdon #if wip #choice of games #hosted games #interactive fiction wip #interactive novel #writing #interact-if #if game #choice script #interactive game #cog game #hosted game #cog

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osarina · 1 month

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ᡣ𐭩 I'D MEET THE SEA UNDER THE SUNLIGHT

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai knows. he knows who you are. he knows what you do. and not only does he know, but in typical dazai fashion, he decides to make it fully your problem. now you're stuck between a rock and a hard place trying to figure out what to do with him—the answer should be obvious, you just can't accept it. but time is ticking and you're treading a thin rope, if you make the smallest mistake...

AUTHOR'S NOTES: part four my children. my eye procedure went well! i've been resting all day, i prob won't be active very much until monday/tuesday, so i'lll queue a few reblogs of this ... i say that, but i also don't know if ill be able to stop myself from responding to comments HAHAH i just love talking to u guys about it so much i cant help it. as always, comments and reblogs appreciated!

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: i didnt get the chance to proofread this one bc of the procedure so don't crucify me if the grammar is awful </3 i have a doctor's pass </3

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

It takes Dazai Osamu approximately two days, seven hours and fifty-three minutes to get his hands on proof of your affiliation with the Port Mafia. He supposes it was due to luck—the timing of when he got confirmation of his suspicions—but Dazai thinks it’s also due to his ability to think quickly if he does say so himself.

He stares at the file that Katai emailed him, a lump in his throat that he can’t seem to push away, unsure if he wants to open it and be forced with physical evidence of who you are and what you do. He doesn’t even know why he’s so hesitant, he already knows. He already knows so he shouldn’t be hesitant… but if he already knows, then why does he need to see the proof? What is this going to do for him? What is he going to do with this information? Nothing, the answer is nothing, so then why-

Katai: Can you quit holding that date from four years ago over my head now?

Dazai: no ^.^

Katai: Of course not. Whatever. Dazai, I don’t know what you’re doing but you need to stop digging into this—it’s dangerous. And I don’t want to be involved.

Dazai shuts his phone off immediately.

He hovers the cursor over the video file on his laptop, chewing the inside of his cheek—the supposed footage from whatever happened behind Tokyo’s City Hall last night. With his heart tight in his chest and the image of your smile burned behind his eyelids, he clicks on the file.

Two days after the event, you and Chuuya are sitting in Mori’s office getting the talk down of a lifetime. Mori has been going on for thirty minutes already and you’re sick of his voice. You don’t know how it’s your fault that the Shimazaki-kai decided to try to take you out while you were in Tokyo but evidently it is.

“I don’t see how this is an issue, boss,” Chuuya finally says, voice strained. “The Sun and Steel are already on top of the situation, Noriko was livid when she realized that they tried to assassinate one of us while we were in Tokyo under the Sun and Steel’s protection.”

“You don’t see how this is an issue,” Mori repeats slowly, voice nothing short of mocking. Usually, he at least tries to mask his annoyance—you and Chuuya share a concerned look with one another. “You don’t see how it’s an issue that we’ve caused this conflict to escalate to the point of the Shimazaki-kai being willing to go to war with the Sun and Steel if it means the mere chance of getting rid of one of us?”

“Okay,” Chuuya mutters. “Well, when you say it like that…”

“And by ‘we’ I mean ‘you’, little hime,” Mori says coolly, leveling his calculating gaze onto you. You don’t flinch beneath it, meeting it head on as you raise your chin. “This all stems from your reckless decision to attack the Inagawa-kai.”

“She didn’t have a choice.” Chuuya jumps to your defense, frowning. “They attacked her at the ports. That was a declaration of war in itself.”

You almost wince at the ridiculing look Mori directs toward Chuuya, voice amused as he speaks. “Is that what she told you?”

Chuuya gives you a questioning look but you don’t give Mori anymore time to stir the pot. You don’t need Chuuya knowing that your decision was driven by Dazai of all people—he’s already angry enough about the situation with the civilian.

“And here I thought you were going to… what was it you said? ‘Clean up my mess?’” you say snidely, drawing Mori’s attention back to you. “Perhaps the real reason the Yakuza syndicates are so willing to challenge our authority is not because of my decision but rather because of the incapability perceived in our boss.”

Chuuya’s eyes shoot open and Mori raises his brows, entirely unperturbed by your comment.

“To think all it would take for you to start biting back…” Mori trails off, unbearably amused and clearly referring to Dazai, making you stiffen. “How fascinating. You’ve kept up this ruse longer than I expected. I think this is the first time you’ve managed to surprise me, little hime.”

Your expression twists as you look away, ignoring the lost look Chuuya gives you, clearly irritated because he doesn’t know what’s going on. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you take the welcome distraction eagerly, hoping to find an excuse to get out of this wretched meeting.

Klaus: your civilian boy is at your tower

You: What?

Klaus: *one image attached*

You stare down at your phone in shock, desperately trying to ignore the curious looks Mori and Chuuya are sending your way.

What the fuck?

Dazai tilts his head to the side, giving the three boys standing in front of him a simpering smile. One of them—the emo one with black hair and white tips—bares his teeth at Dazai like a feral dog, the one in the middle—Dazai recognizes him as Klaus, the boy with you that day at the ports—gives him an irritable look, while the one standing in the back—a nervous looking boy with choppy silver hair and a black collar—lets out a pathetic noise in the back of his throat.

“She’s gonna be so fucking mad at you,” Klaus tells him, voice harsh. His Japanese is broken and accented but understandable for the most part. “She’s gonna fucking-”

He shifts into a foreign language mid-sentence—German, maybe—so Dazai doesn’t know what he’s saying but he’s sure it’s nothing good. He keeps up the overly confident facade, even if he does start to doubt himself internally.

Shit, he thinks to himself, smile fraying at the edges, what is he doing?

Dazai definitely did not think this through and it’s way too late for him to back down now. After watching the video and seeing you with the gravity manipulator, seeing the brief battle in the alley behind the Tokyo city hall, Dazai pretty much blackmailed Katai into using the CCTV cameras between both cities to follow you back to Yokohama to see what building you live in. In retrospect, maybe that’s a little creepy, but he just watched you and the gravity manipulator kill a whole crew of people so he thinks stalking you a bit isn’t too bad in comparison.

“Who do you think you are?” the black-haired one says, voice tight and pitched. His jaw is clenched tight and he takes half a step forward but pauses when he sees the sharp look of warning that Klaus gives him.

He thinks maybe he is stupid. Ango used to rattle him around and yell at him for doing stupid things back before Odasaku died but he thinks this might take the cake for the stupidest thing Dazai has ever done. Standing outside a building owned by the Mafia, antagonizing three mafiosos, waiting here to demand a conversation with someone who is likely their boss. Ango might’ve been right when he said that Dazai has no functioning brain cells.

“None of your business,” Dazai replies with a sweet smile, almost giggling at the way the boy bears his teeth again, even more livid than before.

“You-”

“Stop.”

All three boys go rigid at the sound of your voice and even Dazai stiffens at the cold tone. He forces himself to turn his head to the side, eyes falling upon you as you make your way toward the four of them. The suit you’re wearing today is different—usually he’s seen you wear black on black, but today you’re wearing a burgundy button-up under your suit jacket. You look beautiful—always do, Dazai thinks wistfully—but Dazai finds himself swallowing thickly instead, not used to the blank look you cast over him before you turn your attention over to the three boys.

Ouch, Dazai thinks, not really knowing what he expected but it still hurts to be dismissed like that.

“Klaus, go wipe the cameras around headquarters—wherever he might have passed through,” you say. “Akutagawa, Atsushi, if anyone finds out about this…”

The two boys that Dazai doesn’t recognize share a look with one another, odd expressions spreading across their faces before they nod. All three scamper off without another word, the silver-haired boy giving Dazai a short, worried look that puts Dazai on edge before leaving. You don’t look at him. Rather, you stride right past him toward the building.

Dazai swallows thickly before following after you. You don’t say a word as you lead him to the tall, black building and Dazai wants to say something but his words get caught in his throat. He doesn’t know what to say. Dazai always has something to say but he doesn’t right now and that scares him because he needs to figure out what he’s going to say to you when the two of you finally get up to your apartment.

“Hey, I know you’re a mafia executive because I had my hacker friend get me CCTV tapes from the Tokyo City Hall and I saw you and that short ginger with the tacky hat murder a bunch of guys. Plus, I had him stalk you so I could figure out where you live.”

Yeah, right.

Dazai shivers at the rush of cool air that hits him as he enters the building with you, watches the way the doorman gives him a curious look before inclining his head to you. You give the older man a pointed look before nodding your head to one of the corners of the room and the elevator—Dazai doesn’t know what you’re getting at but he obviously does from the way says:

“Of course, hime.”

You don’t say anything still, leading him toward the elevator and holding it open so he can step past and stand inside. You follow after him, clicking the button to the top floor of the building before scanning a keycard.

How awkward.

Dazai almost wants to crawl out of his own skin, toss himself right out of the glass elevator looking over the city. You don’t even look at him—you keep your gaze trained forward, lips curled down, not even sparing Dazai the briefest glance as the elevator starts to move up.

Maybe this was a mistake, Dazai starts to think, twiddling with his fingers as he keeps sparing short glances in your direction. He still doesn’t even know what he wants to come from this—shouldn’t the proof of your affiliation with the Mafia have been enough to send him running? He should’ve taken it as reason to stop reaching out to you, gone back to life before you but-

But life before you was dark.

His throat spasms as he swallows. Life before you was dark. Life before you was him dragging himself out of bed every day trying to convince himself that he couldn’t let himself die until he fulfilled Odasaku’s final request. Life before you was him fighting depressive episode after depressive episode with alcohol and sex, preferring pain to the emptiness he seemed to constantly be plagued with because at least that meant he could feel something.

He doesn’t want to go back to that—you’re the first person who's actually seen him since Odasaku died. The first person to make him feel as if he’s worth something. He doesn’t give a shit about about what you do, he doesn’t want to go back to life without you.

He glances over at you again, catching the eerily blank expression on your face as you stare ahead. Three words spill from his lips before he can stop them.

“Are you mad?” His voice wavers over the question; he feels pathetic. Feels like a kid tugging at his mother’s shirt after he did something wrong.

You finally look at him though, turn your head slowly toward him as if you don’t even want to believe he actually asked that. Dazai doesn’t know if it’s progress or not because the expression on your face is nothing short of livid.

“Okay,” he says quietly, averting his gaze back to the glass of the elevator.

God, how many floors is this building? The ride to the top floor is taking an agonizingly long amount of time. He doesn’t know if it’s because the elevator itself is slow or if it’s because the building is just that tall or if it just seems longer because of Dazai’s own turmoil—either way, it leaves Dazai miserable.

He really needs to figure out what he’s going to say to you. He should have figured it out before coming here but Dazai just got too antsy with the information Katai gave him on hand and he found himself making his way over here before he could double guess himself.

He doesn’t think you’ll appreciate him using Katai to get the evidence of your position in the Mafia—plus, it could put him in danger and Dazai doesn’t want that. He thinks maybe he’ll pin the blame on his professor—you don’t seem to like him anyway, so you might take it at face value. If you don’t, he’ll have to figure something else out to protect Katai but Dazai has always been a quick thinker so he has faith that he’ll think of something.

If he’s lucky, you’ll lead the conversation and he’ll be able to reflect off of you after seeing where your head's at. That would be the best case scenario.

After what feels like an eternity, the elevator finally bings, signaling that it has finally reached the top floor of the building. You step out before him, hardly even looking at him as you stride into your apartment. Dazai follows after, a bit more hesitantly.

His breath catches as his gaze twists around the massive space—floor to ceiling windows line the walls looking over the city, black couches set up in front of the TV and expensive decor littering the room, there’s a kitchen off to the right and a staircase leading up to a second level.

What types of apartments have staircases? Dazai thinks, distressed, finally looking back at you.

You’ve crossed the room—almost like you’ve wanted to put as much distance as possible between you and him, which is a thought that kind of hurts because he’s been yearning for your presence since you left his apartment the morning you were supposed to leave for abroad. Your expression is entirely unreadable and Dazai doesn’t really know how to feel about that because he can’t figure out how to approach this now.

“You know, originally I was interested in you because I thought you were a lot smarter than you made yourself out to be,” you say, voice dry. Dazai nearly cheers, realizing that he did, in fact, get the best case scenario—he listens intently, mind racing as he tries to figure out what route he should take with you. “I was clearly wrong.”

Dazai pouts. “My bella thinks I’m stupid,” he sighs dramatically but his lashes flutter as he averts his gaze when you don’t find any amusement in his words, readjusting his plan. His theatrical lilt falls flat when he adds, “Maybe I am.”

“I don’t think there’s a maybe,” you correct, unamused. “What do you know and what do you want?”

Dazai is almost taken aback by your tone—cold and flat, very transactional. Maybe he should have taken the lead because he doesn’t know what you mean and he doesn’t like your tone. He watches as you fish through your pocket to find a cigarette and lighter, sticking it between your lips to light it. You look up at him, raising your eyebrows.

“What?” he asks, voice a bit weak.

“What do you know and what do you want? I think they’re pretty simple questions,” you say sardonically. “I have a general idea of what you know already—if you’re here, you have more than whatever that cunt Ui has on me—and I promise you that no amount of money the Ivory Eagle will offer you can compare to what I’ll give you. Plus, I’ll have to kill you if you go to it with them so I think that’s pretty convincing in itself. I want to know exactly what you know so I can figure out how much they’d pay you for the information. I figure you want money, that’s why you’re here.”

“I don’t…” Dazai trails off, a bit lost. He’s still not sure why he came here but he knows it’s not for money and honestly, he thinks he’s a little hurt that you assumed that, can feel the sting in his chest and the lump in his throat.

The smile you give him is cool, you tilt your head to the side and look at him. “Come on, Dazai, you don’t have to keep up with the act. You got close to me to get evidence for Ui, that’s obvious; probably realized it would be more worthwhile trying to get money from me to keep you quiet because they’ve barely got enough money to keep their shitty journalism house running. Honestly, I should probably just-”

“No,” Dazai forces out, interrupting you, lips parted and throat swollen—this is not going well. “That’s not-that’s not true. I didn’t get close to you to get evidence, I didn’t even know until the other day.”

“Do you think I’m stupid, Dazai?” you ask, expression tight. “Because I’m not. As soon as you slipped up and said his name at the event, I realized. You think we don’t know everything that goes on in this city? About that shitty journalist group trying to expose us?”

“I didn’t slip up,” Dazai says, voice more shrill than he intended it to be. His mind falls flat at every corner as he tries to figure out how to salvage this. “I didn’t slip up because I didn’t know. I didn’t know. It wasn’t-this wasn’t some grand scheme, I like you-” (he didn’t mean to say that) “I mean-it’s just-I don’t-”

Dazai feels flustered. He feels flustered and he’s stumbling over words in a way that he hasn’t in years, unable to get out a single coherent sentence because his mind is all over the place. Shit, he thought he was going to have to defend himself from having Katai stalk you so he could figure this out and find you; he didn’t think he’d have to defend himself because you thought everything from day one was some grand scheme to expose you as a mafioso.

You clearly don’t believe him from the way you roll your eyes and it makes Dazai’s distress spike exponentially.

“Then pray tell, Dazai, why are you here? You’re here for something, obviously, otherwise you wouldn’t have been stupid enough to show up here of all places to dangle over my head that you know who I am.”

The words slip from his lips before he can stop them.

“I wanted you to stop ignoring me,” he says, arms instinctively curling around his body as he stares at you, feeling more than a bit vulnerable at the blank look you give him in response to his words.

“You… want to make me stop ignoring you by… blackmailing me?”

“... Yes?”

The sigh you let out is long. Instead of responding, you take a drag of your cigarette, tilting your head back against the wall you’re leaning on to look up at the ceiling. Dazai stares at you, chewing the inside of his cheek as he waits for your response.

“What do you have on me?” you finally ask, taking a few steps forward to put the cigarette out on an ashtray before raising your eyebrows and tilting your head to the side. “Well? I know you must have more than the location of this building.”

Dazai hesitates before he says, “Footage from behind the Tokyo City Hall.”

Your expression doesn’t betray you as you press, “Footage of what?”

“You and the ginger with the ugly hat,” Dazai answers, trying not to smile at the way you clearly have to hide your amusement at his snide comment.

“What are we doing in the footage?” you ask. “What makes it condemning?”

“… He splattered six guys against the wall.”

You sigh, pressing your fingers to the bridge of your nose. “Jesus fucking Christ, Dazai. You saw that and still came here? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Dazai gives you a weak smile “You’ll have to be a bit more specific, there are a lot of things wrong with me,” he tells you, echoing the words from your second meeting with him, hoping they make you lighten up.

They do.

He watches as you let out another breath, tense shoulders relaxing, suddenly looking a lot more tired as you look away from him.

“I missed you,” he adds quietly, fingers running along the hem of his sweater. “It’s cruel and unusual punishment to kiss a guy like you did and then ghost him.”

“It was to keep you out of this life, Dazai,” you say tiredly. “I mean-shit, Dazai. I don’t know what you want me to do, I don’t even trust you right now, you could have a fucking wire on you for all I know and-”

“I could strip for you,” Dazai offers, lips curling up in a flirtatious smile as he flutters his lashes at you. “I’ll give you a show.”

You’re not amused.

“This isn’t a fucking joke, Dazai. This is your life.”

“Well, my life has been one giant joke up until I met you so forgive me if I don’t care,” Dazai says, voice unintentionally rising in response to your words because who are you to decide on his behalf to cut him off because his life is in danger. That’s a decision for him to make. “You can’t just make those decisions for me.”

Dazai thinks he prefers the anger that crosses over your face to the tiredness and emptiness. His breath catches when he sees the way your jaw tightens and the way your eyes get fired up.

“It doesn’t just affect you, Dazai,” you hiss. “If you get pulled into this and something happens to you, that’s on me.”

Dazai’s heart jumps at the implications of your words, nails digging into his palms.

“And how does that affect you?” Dazai presses, the desperation that hangs off of his words so glaring that Dazai almost wants to curl in on himself. He wants to hear you say it, wants you to alleviate all of the thoughts threatening to consume him since you left his apartment that morning—wants to hear you say that you care, that he does mean something to you.

Your expression becomes closed off again as you realize what he wants you to say and Dazai swallows thickly, gaze searching your face for answers.

“You know how it affects me,” you finally respond as you look away. “You know, Dazai.”

It has nothing to do with what I want, you said at the event when he asked why you didn’t tell him why you didn’t want to be with him. The conflict on your face when you said things were too complicated to explain. The anger when you realized Professor Ui had purposely put him in danger trying to get evidence to condemn the Sun and Steel.

“I want you to say it,” he says hoarsely.

You don’t reply for a moment, watching him with an expression that’s impossible for him to decipher. Your brows are furrowed and your lips are pressed together tight, but the look in your eyes—there’s so much emotion in them that Dazai thinks he could get lost in them, it nearly leaves him breathless.

“You are actually the bane of my existence, Dazai Osamu,” you finally say, shoulders slumping as you look away again. Not exactly what he wanted to hear but he thinks that’s as good of an admission that he’s going to get right now.

“And the object of all of your desires?” Dazai prods with a teasing smile.

Your gaze cuts back toward him. ��Did you just quote Bridgerton at me?” you ask, voice riddled with disbelief.

Embarrassed, Dazai flushes and then he hits you back with: “You watched Bridgerton?”

Instead of responding, seemingly equally embarrassed by the callout as Dazai is, you scowl at him and shake your head but your voice is lighter now when you speak—if only barely. “Honestly, Dazai, what did you think you were going to get out of this by coming here? I could have killed you. I should kill you. Coming to the headquarters of the Port Mafia to blackmail one of its executives with evidence threatening to expose them-”

“I didn’t threaten to expose you,” Dazai protests, prancing a bit more into your apartment. Now that he’s not as stressed, he can actually admire your apartment—apartment, is this even an apartment? He runs his fingers along the pristine black marble of the bar separating your kitchen from the living room, ignoring the way your eyes follow him. “I just…”

“You threatened to expose me,” you interrupt dryly. “You implied it.”

“I did not,” Dazai complains. “It’s not my fault you took it that way.”

You roll your eyes. “What were you thinking, Dazai?” you ask again.

Dazai gives you a sweet smile. “I’m thinking that you’re going to take me out on a date.”

You don’t know why you’re even entertaining him.

Three days later, you’re outside Dazai’s apartment complex waiting for him to get back from his classes. You’d have gone to the campus itself but you don’t feel like having to beg Albatross or Iceman to get into the campus cameras to wipe the footage of you being there, especially knowing that it’ll get right back to Chuuya who is still under the belief that you’re no longer talking to Dazai.

You scowl as you look down at your phone, checking the time again. He should’ve been back ten minutes ago—you told him you were here waiting. Your reservation is in thirty minutes and he still has to change, you glance over your shoulder as a group of college students make their way toward the complex. You hardly stop yourself from rolling your eyes, you’d figured that the complex would be popular with the kids attending YNU—that’s why you ended up buying it—but you really don’t want to interact with any of them.

You can feel them looking at you too—fuck, you should have just stayed in your car. From the corner of your eye, you can see them exchange curious looks with one another. One of the boys nudges another, clearly beckoning him to go try to talk to you and you will strength from the gods-

You hear your name fall from familiar lips, quiet and unsure, and the unpleasant expression that you know must be on your face melts away. You let your head fall to the side over your shoulder, gaze focusing on Dazai—he’s dressed casually in a brown sweater and cream pants, school books tucked to his chest and backpack hanging off of his shoulders. He looks surprised at the sight of you so you raise your eyebrows.

“You’re late, I texted you,” you say simply as he approaches you, glancing at the car and then to you curiously.

“My phone died,” he replies sheepishly, a bit of light returning to his eyes as he comes closer to you. Warmth starts to spread through your chest when you see how the corners of his lips twitch up, fingers absently thrumming against his books. “Where are we going?”

“You’re getting changed,” you reply, nodding to the suit hanging in the passenger seat of he car, “and then-”

“Yo, Dazai-kun!”

Your eye twitches at the interruption, gaze twisting to the side to fall on one of the boys from that group you’d been dreading walking over before Dazai arrived. You notice him stiffen, an uncomfortable expression crossing his face when he hears his name being called. So, you sigh, motion for him to go into the car and grab the suit as you turn your attention to the group of approaching college students.

“We’re busy,” you say with a tight smile, tone short and perfunctory but trying to be polite.

Your eyes sweep over the one who spoke up—he’s dressed nice, slacks and a button up, tailored neatly to his body, but there’s something so distasteful about him that you can’t help the way your lip curls up in disgust. Maybe it’s because of the way Dazai looks so uncomfortable.

The man looks entirely unperturbed by your blatant dismissal, giving you a charming smile. “I’m Yoshimura Hiro—me and Daz-”

Irritated, you glance one last time at Dazai, seeing that he got the suit out of the car and shut the door. You lock the car and without another word, press your hand against Dazai’s lower back to urge him forward, walking away from the small group without another word.

Dazai can hardly muffle the snort that escapes his lips as soon as the two of you make it into the building. His eyes have regained that brightness that they’d lost when his classmates approached you, a smile curving at his lips.

“That was so rude,” he says with a grin.

“We have a reservation to make,” you tell him dryly. “I said we were busy.”

“Still, you didn’t even wait for him to finish introducing himself.”

“Would you have preferred I had?” you ask, glancing at him as he unlocks his apartment, watching as his smile falters as he shakes his head. “Why don’t you get along with them?”

Dazai shrugs but he seems a bit more awkward now as you step into his apartment. He tosses his books onto the coffee table and shrugs his backpack off onto the couch. You lean against the wall as you wait for him to respond, noting that his apartment is much cleaner than the last time you were here.

“They don’t like me,” he corrects absently, fiddling with a mug on his coffee table before bringing it over to the kitchen. “Most people don’t.”

There’s a silent question lingering at the end of the sentence—you know it, even if you couldn’t tell from the way the words hang, you can see it in the way his eyes draw over to you. Maybe he wants reassurance of some kind that you do like him, that you’re not just doing this because of the blackmail, but the words die on the tip of your tongue.

Instead, you say, “Go get changed. We’re running late already.”

Dazai looks disappointed by your words—you can see it in the way his shoulders slump and his lashes lower, the corner of his lips tightening—but he lets out a dramatic sigh, muttering something under his breath before going into his bathroom to change.

Luckily, it only takes him a few minutes to get changed into the suit. He comes out as he’s still buttoning up the waistcoat—jacket slung over his shoulder. Your eyes drop down to his slim waist, eyes lingering at how neatly the vest clings to it.

Kido really did a good job, you think, having to drag your eyes back up to his face as he finally shrugs the jacket on and looks back up at you.

“You look nice,” you compliment, watching as his cheeks flush just a shade darker. “I didn’t have time to change after my meeting. If I’d known you were going to be ten minutes late, I would’ve.”

Dazai promptly scowls at you. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have waited until the last second to tell me. What if I already had plans?” he complains, but then adds, “… I think you look beautiful.”

“I wear this outfit everyday,” you dismiss, ignoring the way your chest flutters.

“I know,” he admits quietly. “You look beautiful everyday.”

Oh.

“We should go!” Dazai says suddenly, a bit too loudly to be casual. “We’re running late, aren’t we?”

You clear your throat. “Yeah,” you say. “Come on, let’s go.”

The walk back to your car is quiet—the students you’d left there are gone, thank god. You can feel Dazai looking at you every few seconds as if he wants to say something but can’t bring himself to say it. You have half a mind to just tell him to spit it out but you still find yourself a bit flustered so you just let it be until you’re in the car.

“Where are we going anyway?” Dazai finally asks as you pull out of the complex, twisting in the passenger seat to look at you. His eyes look almost golden beneath the rays of the sun, soft and excited, you can’t help the way your gaze lingers before you force yourself to focus on the road.

“You said you wanted to go to that restaurant by your campus, didn’t you?” you ask, tilting your head to the side to raise your eyebrows before looking forward again. “Taking you there.”

“The rooftop restaurant looking over the park?” Dazai splutters, eyes widening. “You remembered that? It’s so expensive, I-”

You don’t even acknowledge the last thing he was saying. Instead, you give him a squinty look before asking, “Why wouldn’t I remember?”

Dazai’s lips part as he stares at you like he’s trying to say something but can’t bring himself to. You don’t like the way he’s looking at you, it makes your heart twist in on itself. It’s too intense, too close to lo-

You don’t even let yourself finish that sentence, focusing back on the road as you change the subject. “They import crabs from the Beagle Channel in southern Argentina—best quality in the world, much better than that canned shit you eat every day.”

“What do you have against canned crab?” Dazai complains, leaning his head against the window. “You hate me. How did you even get a reservation at this place? They’re booked out like ten months in advance, we talked three days ago.”

You give Dazai a heavy side eye that he understands instantly from how he rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath that you don’t quite catch.

“What was that?” you ask, giving him a pointed smile.

“Nothing,” he scowls.

You smile to yourself, focusing on driving again. The restaurant isn’t far from his complex so you get there pretty quickly. Dazai is quiet for most of the rest of the ride aside from the occasional comment about his classes. He bitches about his engineering class and all of the irritating freshman boys that he’s taking it with because it’s a 101 class, tells you vaguely about how he’s on a roll for one of his projects for his poetry workshop, explains the plot of the book he’s reading for his creative writing class, and he notably does not mention anything about his journalism class—you don’t know if it’s because he’s too awkward to bring it up or what, but you’re grateful for it because the last thing you want to do is think about him working with Ui Koutarou to expose you as a mafia executive. You still don’t even entirely believe this isn’t some whole big scheme they concocted together.

You let the car roll to a stop in front of the tower the restaurant is in, leaving it running as you put it in park and nod for Dazai to get out. You get out yourself, grabbing the keys and tossing them over to the valet with a quick thanks before leading Dazai into the building.

He looks almost wonderstruck as he steps into the tower, brown eyes wide and glittering as he looks at all of the expensive decor in the lobby of the tower. You have to physically guide him forward, arm slipping around his waist to get him moving in the direction of the elevator, but as soon as you come in contact with him, he goes rigid. Your brows furrow, about to pull your arm back but before you can, he presses his palm against the back of your hand, holding your arm in place for a quick second. You can’t help the smile that twitches to your lips when his arm drops back to his side and you catch the pretty flush staining his cheeks as he pointedly looks away.

You lead him into the elevator, catching the pout that pushes at his lips when your arm leaves his waist and you’re going to tease him for it but then you catch the oddly intense look in his eyes as he gazes down at you.

“What is it?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he replies, throat bobbing as if considering what to say. “It’s just… no one has ever done this for me before.”

“It’s just dinner, Dazai,” you tell him, voice quiet as you look away, missing the way his expression drops at your words.

“Yeah,” he agrees, though he sounds strained now so you give him a concerned look that he tries to play off with a smile that’s too frayed at the edges for comfort. You’re about to call him out on it but you don’t get the chance because the elevator doors slide open to the restaurant on the top floor before you can.

A familiar face stands on the other side of the elevator, delighted at the sight of you. “Hime,” the owner of the restaurant greets as you step out of the elevator with Dazai, reaching out to clasp one of your hands with both of his. “I almost didn’t believe it when they said you called to see if we could get you a table tonight. It’s been so long.”

“Ah, Yoshida-san, you’ll have to forgive me,” you say with an easy smile. “You know how busy work can get.”

“Of course, of course,” Yoshida replies, glancing at Dazai and inclining his head to him. “This must be your date. Come, I’ll seat the two of you.”

Dazai looks a bit out of his depth, the smile on his face strained and an unsure look in his eyes so you reach out to hook your arm into his, leading him through the restaurant as you make idle talk with Yoshida. You’re pleased when he brings you to a table near the window with a view over the whole park and the distant bay.

Yoshida bows his head down to the two of you and lets you get settled, you take a seat but then give Dazai an odd look when he just stands there with a contemplative expression. You’re about to ask him what he’s doing when he suddenly moves to grab the chair opposite you.

He drags the chair from his side of the table all the way to yours. The legs scrape the floor so loudly that it draws the attention of all of the other patrons of the restaurant. You stare at him, lips parted in disbelief, but Dazai only gives you a sweet smile in return. He’s entirely unperturbed, plopping the chair down right next to yours and taking a seat in it. He rests his elbow on the table, propping his chin on his hand and watching you with an indescribable look in his eyes.

“You’re the worst,” you tell him but there’s no heat to your words as the corners of your lips tug up.

“You love me anyway,” Dazai coos, gaze flickering down to your lips briefly before settling back on your eyes.

When a soft, pleased smile spreads across Dazai’s face as he leans in to nudge his shoulder against yours, you have to actively remind yourself that you’re only doing this because of the blackmail.

Dazai is already lounging on your couch when you get up to your apartment. You don’t seem to notice him—you’re clearly unhappy about something, lips twisted down and brows furrowed as you talk to someone on your phone. It’s not until Dazai peeks his head up above the back of the couch to look at you do you finally catch sight of the movement, eyes flickering to the side to focus on him.

“Thanks, Tolstoy, I’ll let you know if I need him. I appreciate it,” you say before letting the phone drop from your ear and ending the call.

For a horrifying second, your expression doesn’t change and all of those insecurities that he can’t push away—that you really are only doing this because of the video, that he’s forcing himself on you instead of giving you an excuse to actually be with him that goes above the fears that are haunting you. But then, you sigh and your shoulders slump. You toss your jacket onto the other couch before sitting with him on the one he’s sitting on, knees knocking against his.

“Hi,” Dazai says with a small smile, itching to shift closer to you but hardly refraining. “You’re late today.”

“You’re early,” you reply dryly but there’s a fond curl to the corners of your lips that makes Dazai feel nice and warm. “You know, I think you’ve been at my apartment more than yours the past week.”

Dazai’s smile becomes simpering. “Why would I stay in my small, dirty apartment when I could stay in your nice one?” he asks, watching as you roll yours. “Anyway, you love it when I’m here. Your apartment would be so lonely and boring without me.”

“It would be something alright,” you agree half-heartedly, leaning your head against the back of the couch and letting your eyes slide shut.

Dazai’s smile falters as soon as your gaze leaves him, an uncomfortable and unwelcome feeling spreading through his chest. Is he being too much? He has been spending a lot of time at your apartment but it’s because whenever he’s alone, his own thoughts threaten to consume him. They whisper too loudly about how you’d never be doing this without the blackmail, about how he’s so desperate to not be alone that he’d stoop to forcing you to hang out with him. They’re quieter when he’s here, even when you’re not, so he’s been spending as much time as possible in your apartment, doing his schoolwork and watching TV while he waits for you to come back.

“Long day?” Dazai finally asks to draw himself out of his own thoughts, watching as you look back over at him.

“Mhm,” you agree, leaning your head against the back of the couch. “Lots of meetings. All with people I don’t like.”

You’ve become a bit more open over the past week—you still don’t tell him anything of importance, of course, but you’re at least not avoiding just about every topic that edges somewhat close to your ‘business’. He still feels like he doesn’t know you as well as he should and he hasn’t tried to push that anymore since the night you showed up at his apartment. He wants to try to push again but he’s just worried that he’s going to take it too far and he’ll mess it up.

He supposes he should at least try to feel it out though.

“Can I ask something?” he asks after a moment, almost wincing when you immediately cast him a suspicious look.

“The last time you asked me that, you were trying to figure out if I was in the Mafia,” you say doubtfully and Dazai’s throat goes dry as you lean back against the arm of the couch and extend your legs outward onto his lap. Hesitantly, he drops his hand onto your ankle, grip becoming more firm when you don’t instantly pull away.

“Well, we’ve already figured that out,” Dazai says with a sweet smile but then lets the smile drop as he adds more seriously, “I just want to get to know you better.”

You sigh, watching him carefully for a moment before nodding. “Go ahead,” you say. “Ask.”

“What’s your ability?”

Instantly, you sigh and look away. Dazai’s heart drops and his lips part to say something else but he doesn’t know what.

“I can’t, Dazai,” you finally tell him and Dazai tries not to be disappointed but he can’t help the way his lashes lower. “It’s not-you shouldn’t even know I have an ability. Only a handful of people know. It’s literally the most confidential secret in the-I can’t.”

“But I already know you have one,” Dazai presses, his tone coming across as far too close to a whine considering the look you give him. “What’s the harm in telling me what it is?”

“Dazai,” you say, voice becoming more edged. “You don’t understand what people would do to get intel on my ability—I’m not going to-”

“I just want to know you,” Dazai interrupts, words drawn out and throat tight. “I just-I want to know you.”

You stare at him for a moment and Dazai’s grip on your ankle tightens, expression dropping. Just as he’s about to drawback and give up, you sigh and look away from him.

“I can mess around with people’s minds,” you finally tell him, voice quiet. Dazai’s eyes widen, head snapping toward you as he waits for you to continue. “I can… induce different types of mental and physical states in the brain and mind.”

“Like… Emma Frost?” Dazai asks, squinting. You give him an odd look so he amends, “Like mind control?”

“No,” you answer. “I can’t… control minds. I can like… induce short term changes in emotions and sensations. I’m not directly manipulating them but putting them into a state and letting them work with it. They can either snap themselves out of it or make it stronger.”

“... I see,” Dazai says slowly. “So, you can make someone happy but if something makes them sad after, it’ll snap them out of it?”

“Pretty much,” you hum but there’s a weird look on your face that tells Dazai that maybe you’re not saying everything. “Some emotions are easier than others. Happiness is more… fragile, harder to sustain in a target. Fear is much more… a lot like a parasite—once you put it in someone’s head, almost everyone will start to spiral. It’s much harder to break out of.”

“The mindkiller,” Dazai notes, quoting one of his favorite books, a bit of morbid curiosity spiking, wanting to know how he would fare.

You give him an amused look. “Now, you’re quoting Dune? Quite the broad taste in media.”

“You’ve read Dune, too?” Dazai gapes. “You must be my soulmate.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Ridiculously cute,” Dazai counters immediately, smile twitching at his lips when he sees the fond expression on your face.

Then, naturally, he makes a mistake.

“Can you use it on me?” Dazai asks, leaning forward a bit. When you give him a sharp, alarmed look, he quickly fumbles out, “Not like anything big. I just want to see what it’s like. Just something sma-”

“No.”

“But-”

“No,” you say loudly, making Dazai draw back, hand falling from your ankle to rest on the couch next to him. You pull your legs off of his lap and sit up straight, turning your body away from him. “Just no, Dazai. Don’t ask me that again.”

“I didn’t mean-” Dazai starts to apologize but he’s flustered, not having expected a response like that from you. He fucked up. Again. Just as he was making progress. Again. “I don’t-”

“I can’t turn off my ability,” you tell him quietly after a moment. “It’s… always going to some extent. Making people around me more at ease so they feel more comfortable talking to me. I don’t like using it to its full extent if I don’t have to, not on people I consider friends at least. I never know if people… I don’t know who wants to be around me for me and who’s just influenced by my ability.”

Oh.

Dazai shifts closer to you, there’s an unreadable expression on your face as you stare ahead. He hesitates for a second before reaching out and grabbing your hand, forcing you to look at him.

“I want you for you,” Dazai stresses. When you start to shake your head and look away, he repeats, “I do. I-”

“You wouldn’t know, Dazai,” you say, voice tight. “That’s the issue, you wouldn’t know.”

“I would know,” Dazai tells you, squeezing your hand. “I would know, I want you. I do.”

You don’t respond to him this time, staring ahead and Dazai doesn’t know what to do because you look sad. You look lost in your own thoughts, consumed by whatever is running through your head. It’s familiar—the same way he probably looks whenever he lets the parasites in his brain start eating away, sending him down a dangerous spiral.

He wants to draw you out of it.

More than that, he wants to kiss you again. Desperately.

He’s yearned for it since that night in his apartment, spent long nights alone and aching for your company when he thought you were abroad. For days, he could feel his lips tingling with the ghost of yours still brushing against them, could feel the weight of your body on his hips, grounding him when he thought he would finally be consumed by the emptiness that perpetually plagues him. He thinks maybe he can draw you out in the same way you always do for him.

He wants to kiss you, and he’s about to lean in to do just that, breath catching in the back of his throat as his body becomes prickly with nerves.

You turn your head away before he can, rising to your feet and making your way to your bedroom, leaving him damningly alone in the living room of your apartment.

He lets out a shaky breath, staring down at his lap, a cold and unsure feeling taking root in his chest.

Dazai has become a constant presence in your life.

At first, it caused you nothing but stress—you constantly feared that him showing up to your apartment would lead to unwelcome eyes learning of his existence but he’s been very careful entering and leaving the building, and Klaus has been on top of the cameras. You think it’s been around a week and a half, maybe two weeks since Dazai first confronted you about everything and in that week and a half (maybe two weeks), you don’t think a single day has gone by without you coming home to find Dazai curled up on your couch or hunched over your kitchen table.

Today is no different.

Your head is pounding when you make it up to your apartment, you’d spent two hours arguing with Chuuya over how to approach the issue with Shimazaki-kai. The Sun and Steel are struggling against them in Tokyo and Mishima Michiko had come to Yokohama personally to request assistance from the Port Mafia in routing them from Shibuya-ku. You don’t want to send Chuuya there—it’s only a matter of time before the Guild shows up in Yokohama to try to take the weretiger and you’ll need Chuuya here when they do. You can’t risk sending him off now.

But Chuuya wants to go there now—says that it’s a bad look that the Port Mafia started this conflict and is now leaving the Sun and Steel to suffer the consequences. And he’s right, but the Guild is more pressing than the Shimazaki-kai.

It’s not often that the two of you disagree on tactical decisions, but when you do, the disagreements are stressful and explosive. Both of you are bullheaded and both of you are convinced that your decision is the correct one—and Lippmann wasn’t here to force you guys to settle down so it just became more and more heated until you finally stormed off.

You pause when you enter your apartment and hear a choppy tune being played on the piano in your living room—something you vaguely recognize as the beginning of Chopin’s Raindrop Prelude even with the many mistakes being made. Your stress and frustration slips away as you catch sight of Dazai sitting at the piano bench, so focused on the sheet music in front of him that he doesn’t even notice your arrival.

A small smile tugs at your lips as you quietly make your way over to him, watching as he pauses in the song and sighs, clearly frustrated by his mistakes. You take the opportunity to slide your hand across his shoulder blades; he jumps beneath your touch, eyes widening as he twists his neck to look up at you, cheeks flushing.

“I didn’t know you played,” you say absently. “If you want, I can have the spare room on this floor made into a music room for you.”

You don’t know why you offer it, but you enjoy the look in his eyes as his gaze focuses on you: big and imploring, full of emotion. It’s a welcome change from the livid expression Chuuya had been casting your way for the past few hours.

“I don’t really,” Dazai says awkwardly. “I was just trying it out.”

“Well, do you like it?” you ask him, taking a seat on the bench next to him, fingers lingering on his lower back.

“I think so,” he tells you after a few moments, lashes fluttering as he looks down at the keys and then back up at you. “I think my mother used to play… I don’t really remember her, but I can vaguely remember a song she used to play.”

There’s an odd look in his eyes as he averts his gaze and you squeeze his side gently before saying, “Maybe the more you play, the more it’ll come back to you.

“Yeah, maybe,” he agrees half-heartedly, looking at you again, more carefully this time. “Are you okay?”

You pause, not having expected him to catch onto your bad mood so quickly when you were doing your best to hide it, but you finally sigh and shake your head.

“Yeah,” you tell him, motioning for him to get up so the two of you can move over to the much more comfortable couch. “Stressful day. I thought you had class on Wednesdays.”

“It was online today,” Dazai says, propping his arms up on the back of the couch as he sits up. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be back until super late tonight.”

You scoff. “Yeah, until I got into a fight with Chuuya,” you mutter, making your way over to him to sit on the couch with him, looking at the puzzle he has spread out on your coffee table. “Where’d you get this?”

Dazai gives you a sweet smile. “You left your computer open yesterday, I ordered some things.”

Dazai inches closer to you, there’s an indecipherable expression on his face, lips parted and eyes a bit wide. You can feel his knee nudging yours and you know what he wants. He’s been trying to make subtle moves on you for days but you just… You don’t know. You’re scared.

You’re scared.

You don’t think you’ve felt this way since you were a kid, trapped in that room in the military base on Tokoyami Island desperately trying to understand what your ability was so you wouldn’t be thrown back out into a warzone. Except now, it’s not just your fate on the line—every decision you make, Dazai’s life hinges on it and you’ve been making stupid ones for weeks. Even now, letting him stay at your apartment… Even if you do own all of the cameras, even if Klaus is on top of it, even if Dazai is being careful, it’s only a matter of time before a mistake is made.

You don’t know what you’re still holding out for. Maybe a chance to make him understand what exactly is at stake, break things off with you on his own… Maybe you’re waiting for something else. Your conversation with Tolstoy echoes through your head, his offer of sending Ilya Repin to you for you to utilize as you please.

Ilya Repin. A Crucession in Oakwood.

Someone who can wipe Dazai’s memories of you so you can send him back off to live a normal life, make him forget he ever met you. It’s not something you want to do, fiddling with people’s minds… you know better than anyone that it’s not something to take lightly. But would it be worth it to ensure he lives? That he doesn’t get drawn any further into your shitshow life? The thought makes your chest ache painfully but if it means he would be safe.

You let out a shaky breath, looking away, and you can feel the disappointment emanating off of him, you can feel his fingers brushing your arm, but before you can say anything to him, you hear your elevator bing.

Someone arriving at your floor.

Your eyes widen as you rise to your feet, you cast Dazai a panicked look. He follows after you, unsure of what he should do. Klaus is across the city—he’s the only one that can come up to your apartment without permission besides-

Besides Chuuya.

Oh shit.

“Go to the kitchen,” you say, voice tight and stressed, you push Dazai forward to get him moving. You cannot let Chuuya know that Dazai is here. “Get to the-”

“Yo.” You hear Chuuya say, voice low and distracted as he steps into your apartment. He’s looking down at a bottle of wine, so you wave your hand at Dazai frantically, shooing him into the kitchen. He shoots you a panicked look before rushing into the kitchen. “I didn’t mean to let shit get so heated before.”

“You’re good,” you tell him, careful to keep the strain from your voice as Chuuya finally looks up from the bottle and makes his way over to you. “Takes two, I shouldn’t have been so quick to snap at you.”

“Nah.” Chuuya shakes his head, plopping down on the couch next to you. “You’ve been going through shit. The Boss constantly on your ass, having to drop that kid you liked-” shit “-I should’ve let it go instead of pressing. Brought you this.”

Oh, you’re in a bad spot. Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts as you race to figure out what to do. You have to get Chuuya out of your apartment, but the man knows you so well that it’ll be impossible to do that without raising suspicion. If this were any other day and Dazai Osamu wasn’t hiding in your kitchen, you would be trying to worm more than just a bottle of wine out of Chuuya—probably dinner and a night out to go along with it—but he’ll want to crack open the bottle before going out and your wine glasses are in your kitchen.

Shit.

“An ‘82 Rothschild,” you drawl. “You’re really trying to butter me up.”

Chuuya gives you a smile that makes you feel guilty. “‘Cause I feel like shit,” he mutters and you hardly refrain from wincing because you know he wouldn’t if he knew the truth.

You think you might be the worst person alive.

“How about we put it in the wine fridge and head out for the night?” you hum, nudging his shoulder. “Didn’t you want to try that new bar by the ports in Naka? The one Lippmann went to with his coworkers? We’ll save the wine for us to celebrate after we wipe out the Shimazaki-kai.”

A good move. You almost pat yourself on the back for it—Chuuya’s been talking about this bar for weeks, but hasn’t gotten a break from work to actually go check it out. He was livid the other day when he found out Albatross and Iceman went without him. Plus, you implied that you’d give in a little on the argument you were having with him earlier; maybe you won’t send him to Tokyo to help the Sun and Steel but you could probably send Klaus or Akutagawa to ease Chuuya’s stress over the situation.

Please, please, please, please-

“Nah,” Chuuya says, shaking his head. “Maybe another night. I’ll go grab some glasses, find a movie?”

Oh, fuck me.

“I’ll get them,” you say instead, too quickly from the way Chuuya is instantly casting a suspicious look in your direction so you pivot with: “I picked the last movie. It’s your turn.”

“You hate when I pick movies,” Chuuya says with a frown, studying you carefully before letting his eyes trail over to the kitchen. He’s thinking too hard, you realize, stressed, you need to make him stop before he figures out you don’t want him to go in there because once he realizes that, there’s no shot he won’t be rushing over there. “What’s really going on?”

“Nothing,” you say easily. “I’m in the mood to trash one of your low budget horror movies.”

Chuuya instantly gives you an offended look and you think, for a moment, that you’ve succeeded. “Well, I’m not in the mood to hear you bitch halfway through the movie, so pick a damn movie.”

Chuuya rises to his feet, putting the bottle of wine down on the coffee table and you want to rip your hair out—why is he so fucking stubborn? You reach out to grab his wrist to stop him, teeth grinding together, and when Chuuya looks back at you, you know that he knows.

“What’s in the kitchen?” Chuuya asks, voice low.

“None of your business,” you reply, jaw tight. “Sit down and let me get the glasses.”’

“I don’t fuckin’ believe you,” Chuuya snaps and rips his wrist from your grasp and storms over to the kitchen.

You race behind him, only able to watch as everything starts to crumble. You try to grab his wrist again but he slips out from your hold. For a scary second, you genuinely debate using your ability on him just to convince him to stop, to make him leave, but you disregard the thought as soon as it passes through your head, horrified with yourself.

“Chuuya, stop,” you say desperately, a last ditch attempt to make him stop, hoping that maybe when he hears how serious you are about this that he might reconsider, but it’s Chuuya, so of course he doesn’t.

You know it’s over when he freezes in the doorframe of your kitchen, staring into the room like he’s seen a ghost. Dreadfully, you come to stand at his side, looking over his shoulder to see what exactly he’s looking at, wanting nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die.

Dazai sits on the floor, half hiding behind your counter but unable to fully because of his height; his legs are too long to fit behind the counter and his head is peeking above the marble, brown eyes wide as he looks between the two of you. He focuses his attention on Chuuya, who stares at him mutely in disbelief.

Dazai finally says, “Your hat is tackier in person.”

Oh my god.

Chuuya doesn’t even react to the snide comment which you think is testimony to how angry he really is. He drags his gaze from Dazai over to you and you can see the rage swimming in his eyes. You don’t know how to approach this—Chuuya is always unpredictable when he’s angry—so you think maybe you should wait for him to say something first, but that’s also risky because once he’s set off, he’s set off.

“You lied to me,” Chuuya says, voice low. “I was sitting here feeling guilty and-”

“I didn’t lie to you,” you interrupt, shaking your head, but that only pisses Chuuya off more from the way he shoots a pointed look at Dazai. “I didn’t. I did cut him off, Chuuya. I-”

“He’s sitting on your kitchen floor,” Chuuya’s spits, voice raising as he works himself up. “You let me sit here feeling guilty about this when-”

Chuuya suddenly cuts himself off, eyes widening as he stares at you, and a pit forms in your stomach, realizing he must have just come to another conclusion. Distress begins to pile in your chest because you can’t figure out what to do, frustration because this wasn’t supposed to happen. You want to look over to Dazai but you know it will only serve to piss Chuuya off even more.

“‘Is that what she told you?’” Chuuya whispers Mori’s words from a few weeks ago. “Don’t even tell me that the war with the Inagawa-kai began because of him. You told me they attacked you.”

You grimace, turning your face away and Chuuya lets out a high and reedy laugh, eyes wild with disbelief. You can feel Dazai’s curious eyes on you and you just want to curl in on yourself.

“We went to war with two Yakuza syndicates because of him-”

“We went to war because of what happened with your-” you begin to say, angry at the hypocrisy.

“And she died anyway,” Chuuya shouts, a familiar, eerie red glow beginning to emanate from his hands as he starts to lose control of his ability in his anger. “You couldn’t save her then, what makes you think you can save him now?”

You draw back as if you’d been slapped—you think you might’ve been better off getting slapped than hearing Chuuya say that. You stare at him blankly, watching as he looks over at Dazai, but you can’t bring yourself to follow his gaze.

“It would be more merciful if I just killed him now,” Chuuya says coolly. “Spare him from-”

You only move when he takes a step forward, grabbing his wrist and pressing your forearm hard against his upper chest to shove him into your fridge. Chuuya doesn’t expect you to get physical so his eyes widen as his back hits the fridge, gaze darting back to focus on you. The familiar feeling of the Tainted Sorrow sweeps over your body, coating you in that destructive red glow.

For a moment, neither of you move.

“We both know you won’t use your ability on me,” you finally say, keeping your voice low. “I’ll fuck up your brain so badly that you won’t be able to look at yourself in the mirror for weeks if you take another step toward him.”

Chuuya doesn’t budge for a second, the tension in the room rising with each passing second. After a few minutes, he finally turns off his ability, taking in a deep breath as he shakes his head and looks away. You step back and Chuuya sighs as he leans against the fridge, forcing himself to look back at you.

“I did cut him off after we talked… ish,” you tell him and Chuuya gives you a flat look. “I did. I ran into him at the ports. One of the kyodai of the Inagawa-kai showed up, saw me with him. Klaus killed him. We had to act before they found out we drew first blood.”

“Oh my god,” Chuuya complains, pressing his hands to his eyes. “You-I had to use Corruption. The entire northern ward-”

“I know, Chuuya,” you say tightly. “I didn’t mean for any of it to happen. I-”

You let out a breath, glancing once at Dazai who’s watching you with an indecipherable expression and then ask Chuuya, “Can we go into the other room?”

Dazai’s head snaps toward you, an offended expression on his face, but you ignore him. “You’re talking about me-” he starts to protest but Chuuya gives him a sharp look that makes Dazai blanch even more, looking to you for support but you look away, missing the way his expression crumbles.

As soon as the two of you are in the other room, Chuuya gives you a hard look, waiting for you to continue.

“I cut him off after what happened at the port and I ran into him again at the event a few weeks ago,” you say quietly. “His professor for one of his classes is a journalist working for the Ivory Eagle, he has three kids—including Dazai—doing his dirty work trying to find proof of the Mori Corporation being a front for the Port Mafia.”

Chuuya stares at you. “What?” he asks blankly.

“Yeah, I know,” you grimace. “Dazai found the proof. He has a video of us from behind the Tokyo City Hall.”

“You’re letting yourself be blackmailed by a college student?” Chuuya demands loudly. You give him a sharp look, but it’s too late, Dazai is already looking into the room with an indecipherable expression on his face, lashes lowering as his gaze falls to the ground. “You’re a fucking mafia executive, are you fucking with me right now?”

Your eye twitches in frustration, casting one last look in Dazai’s direction, watching the way his brows furrow as he thinks up a storm in that head of his—nothing good, you’re sure, but you can’t do anything about it right now.

“I’m not going to kill him, Chuuya,” you hiss under your breath. “Would you have killed her if she found out?”

Chuuya lets out a heavy breath and looks away, not answering your question but that’s an answer in itself.

“Look,” you continue, glancing at where Dazai had been standing only to realize that he’d walked away. You sigh and lower your voice. “I’m working on something. I just… I need time to figure out how to go about it. I don’t want him in this life either, Chuuya. I’m not that selfish.”

Yes, you are, a distant part of you whispers. Otherwise, you would have handled this as soon as he came to your apartment that first day.

Chuuya shakes his head. “You need to be careful. You have him in our headquarters, in your apartment. Do you know how thin of a line you’re treading? The slightest slip up-”

“I know, Chuuya,” you say, strained. “I know.”

“Figure it out quickly,” Chuuya murmurs. “I’ll do what I can in the meantime to keep the heat off of you. Just… quit fucking around.”

Chuuya gives you a steady look and you know that he knows that you’re using this as an excuse to indulge in Dazai when you shouldn’t be. You can hardly hold his gaze, lashes fluttering as you look down. He reaches out to squeeze your forearm and you turn your head away, trying to figure out what the fuck you’re going to say to Dazai.

“Yeah, I will.”

Dazai pretends like everything is fine.

He’s still sitting cross-legged on your bed when you finally come looking for him, hands in his lap and back straight. You lean against the doorframe, an uncharacteristically soft expression on your face as you look at him—Dazai hates it, because he knows that he’s not going to like whatever you’re about to bring up to him so he decides he needs to evade the conversation in whatever manner possible.

“Did that pipsqueak leave?” Dazai huffs, only finding a bit of consolation in the way your lips curl up into a smile at his insult.

“He did,” you agree, pushing off the doorframe to make your way over to him. Dazai swallows thickly when you take a seat in front of him on the bed. You lean back on your hands, head falling to the side as you observe him. “I didn’t think he was coming over today. We’d just gotten into an argument so things were already tense. I’m sorry that it blew up on you like that.”

Dazai doesn’t want to talk about this, so instead, he smiles and says, “It’s fine. Do you want to watch a movie?”

Your brow furrows at the way he dismisses your comment—god, he doesn’t want to talk about this. He knows where it’s going to lead, he knows you’re only doing this because of the blackmail and he knew from day one that it wasn’t going to work forever but he’d hoped maybe he’d be able to woo you before then, make you want him for him, want him enough to decide he’s worth the risk. He should’ve known better—he really should have—but he’s not ready to let go just yet.

So, before you can bring it back up again, Dazai forces the smile on his face to come across a little more genuine as he tilts his head and hums, “I found a good horror movie. I’m stealing your pillow to hide behind while we watch.”

Please.

He knows you can see through the sweet smile and honeyed words but he begs you to just pretend you don’t one last time. After what feels like an eternity, you finally sigh, gaze dropping to your lap for a second before you look back up at him and say, “You’re not taking my pillow.”

Dazai doesn’t have to force a smile now, lighting up as he waves your pillow in the air and sings, “Too late!” before darting off the bed and into the other room.

“Dazai!” you call after him loudly and he tosses a smile over his shoulder before disappearing into the other room. He can hear you chasing after him and though his chest does feel a bit lighter, he can’t push away the cold, empty feeling that’s slowly starting to consume him.

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you

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sttoru · 1 year

Text

𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 . . .

⟣ sypnosis. you’re fed up with your rich abusive husband and finally decide to hire a skilled assassin to get rid of him in secrecy. one night when you’re left alone in your penthouse, you invite the assassin named toji over to give him the money he’s demanded to accept the job. things turn for the worse when your husband comes home early that day and catches toji and you together.

⟣ note. eeek. never thought i’d be here to write this out but i did and it turned pretty detailed if i must say. hope u all enjoy and appreciate my hard work. feedback / comments are greatly appreciated ! if the fic does well, i can make an alternative ending that’s smutty :3 wc: 7.4k

⟣ tags. toji fushiguro x female reader. angst, comfort. themes include abuse. reader is in an abusive + toxic relationship with her husband. implied age gap with husband. implied size difference with toji. mentions of guns + blood + m.urder. knifes.

“what is a successful marriage?”

that is one of the many questions that keep you up at night. you’ve laid awake for hours on end ever since you’ve married your husband, in search for reasonable answers. you’ve got many of them sorted out, however that specific question is one left unanswered.

it is very subjective—many can vary about the concrete answer. but one thing you know for sure is that your marriage is the exact opposite of what ‘successful’ means.

you were so full of yourself. you didn’t realise that your pride would also be your downfall one day; you’d constantly brag about having a rich husband who gets you everything you wanted. you were too blinded by love—or actually—by his money to notice the real him. the real, twisted and manipulative face of the man you were determined to marry.

his name was daisuke. from the yamamoto family. a family known in japan for its generational wealth and the many buildings and famous corporations it owns. you’ve worked at one of those companies and had met daisuke whilst he was on a visit. you’ve heard about his image by the public; sweet, caring and apparently wouldn’t hurt a fly.

unfortunately, the true him matched none of those descriptions. the true him only you—his wife—came face to face with at your shared home. you remember when it started. when daisuke began to turn into a nasty, abusive man whose anger is never restrainable.

your dating years were nothing but a dream. or, maybe you were too gullible to notice the signs and red flags your then boyfriend was showing. his love bombing, the manipulation, the gaslighting—you didn’t know better. if you complained about a minor thing that he had done, daisuke would apologise by sending you lots of money and presents. toxic, isn’t it?

but you didn’t care. you were happy and content with that being your compensation. the money was the evildoer that made you lose all your morals. the teenage you who said that you’ll never put up with a man’s disrespect was long forgotten.

even now, 4 years later, you put up with his verbal and physical abuse just to continue staying in that big mansion you live in. to continue getting everything paid for you. to continue getting lots of money by doing nothing but be his wife—his trophy wife, at this point.

it’s an easy life; ‘all i have to do is get through his abuse and it’ll be just fine’, you tell yourself that every night. it’s the only thing keeping you sane—a coping mechanism of some kind.

however lately, daisuke’s never skipped a day without being abusive towards you. he’d enter your home yelling and shouting, complains about the tiniest speck of dust in the house (which is not even your fault, it’s the maids’), reminds you how worthless you are in his eyes and the list goes on. he sometimes gets physical and throws stuff at you, causing multiple bruises and cuts to appear on your body after he’s done having his daily tantrum.

he might even kill you one day. it’s scary to think about; if he would, he easily could. he could one day just decide to be done with you and stick a knife in your body, leave you to bleed out and then order one of his men to get rid of your corpse. just like his family does to whoever stands in their way of success. you don’t want to discover how many people your husband has killed.

daisuke can easily get away with murder after all—the law is nothing but a thing to exist to keep the common citizens in the government’s control. to the rich, it’s like those rules don’t exist. court? justice? the so called independent judge? nothing money can’t buy. after all, money is power. money is innocence.

after four years of sticking with that rich man, you were getting tired. you were staying with him for his wealth, but was it actually worth it? besides, if daisuke hates you so much, why wouldn’t he divorce you instead? you don’t have anything going for you. except for your looks and youth, probably. that’s the main reason why daisuke coaxed you into marrying him—to show you off during events or parties. a complete and utter trophy wife you are.

you’ve been going to sketchy bars lately to let off some steam. you weren’t even there to drink alcohol. the sole reason for attending pubs was to forget about your own situation. you’d get weird stares since you’re always alone, sitting in that one spot in the far corner, no one wanting to come up to you because of that gloomy aura you’re emitting. and because you’re always dressed modestly from head to toe—not an ounce of skin showing. it was all the opposite of what most people would normally look and act like in bars.

‘what is normal?’ also a subjective question. society has turned it into an objective one, however.

“good day, miss.” a deep voice had interrupted your thoughts one day whilst you were doing your usual routine; sit near the bar counter, get a non-alcoholic drink, stare at the table for hours and question your purpose in life before going home to the reason of your problems.

a man, probably in his late 30’s or early 40’s, sat next to you on an available stool. he nonchalantly ordered a drink before making small talk. it was a nice change of pace for some reason. you had asked him his name. it was shiu.

that stranger had kept you company for hours until a call from your husband made you snap back to reality; you had to be home as soon as possible. judging by daisuke’s tone, you were in big trouble.

you remember how shiu outed his concern for your well-being by pointing out the bruises on your arm which you didn’t even know were showing.

you dismissed his worries with a fake smile and told him it was nothing, quickly pulling your sleeve back down. shiu seemed to let the topic go, but before parting ways with you, he handed you his business card. you didn’t know what it was for—what kind of services he could offer;

“call that number if you need someone to get rid of your problems,” was all you got before the mysterious man walked away. you couldn’t shake off the emphasis on the word ‘rid’. it sent a shiver down your spine.

that sentence of shiu’s echoed in your ears as tears streamed down your cheek after you arrived home. you were in your personal bathroom, hands shaking as you put a bag of ice on your fresh bruise, the small red and blue-ish area stinging. once again—you couldn’t avoid your husband’s wrath.

after having slept for a mere two hours that day in your bathtub, you’ve awoken to an empty house. daisuke was gone for work. luckily for you.

you hastily grabbed the business card in your purse and dialled the number. staring at the card, you’d think it was some kind of house cleaning service. that’s the kind of vibe it gave. little did you know that it was far from that.

a few rings later and you heard the same familiar deep voice in your ear; “good morning. with shiu kong.”

your heart was beating in your throat as you couldn’t gather the right words to say. maybe it was due to the little voice in the back of your head that warned you for something—you couldn’t pinpoint what the specific cause was just yet.

you answered eventually, “hi. uhm, you said i could call this number if i needed someone to get rid of my problems.” you pause and inhale deeply, “wh-what if my problem was.. a person? would you…” your voice trailed off, but the implication could not be missed by anyone if they heard the tone you used.

shiu seemed to recognise your voice, though stayed silent for a second or two at your request. when he replied, it sounded like he had expected you to ask him this—like he’s heard this many times before; “certainly.”

that’s when you realised what you’ve gotten yourself involved with. you were sweating and you had trouble breathing as you realised that.. this was your chance. to get rid of that man called your husband. your abuser.

you had decided to take on that opportunity and that’s how you ended up getting a phone call from an anonymous number right after your talk with shiu. the agent hadn’t told you anything other than the name of the person who’d contact you; ‘toji’, and said that he’d help you further.

you stared at the ‘no caller ID’ on your screen. this was him: the person who’d help you get rid of your problem. you gulped before sliding your thumb across your mobile to answer the call.

“hi, good m—”

“location.”

the husky male voice cut through your introduction and got straight to the point. your lips were parted to answer the man whom you guessed was ‘toji’, but your breath got caught in your throat for a second. do you just randomly give your address to a stranger? was that okay to do? you didn’t know—no, you didn’t care. if you got killed in the process or something similar, that’d be way better than to live another day in hell with your husband.

you dropped your address after some hesitation and toji just added a quick, ‘be there in an hour or so,’ before hanging up on you.

fast forward to 50 minutes later and you were pacing back and forth in your living room, trying to breathe properly and not have a second panic attack. daisuke wouldn’t be home until noon, so at least he won’t see whoever will enter your mansion in a few minutes. and if there’s a possibility that you get killed by this stranger, you’re sure that your husband would be more than happy that the job was done for him.

a loud tune. the sound of your doorbell. normally, you’d find the short melody relaxing, but now it sounded like something out of a nightmare. you made your way to your intercom and looked at the small screen—seeing a tall black-haired man with a compressed shirt and beige baggy pants standing near the gates. that must be toji—the man you talked to an hour ago.

he must be confident in his abilities since he didn’t cover up his identity at all when coming all the way over here.

you press a button and the gates open with a buzz. toji disappears from the little screen as he enters your front yard. the screen fades to black and you’re left alone with a sense of dread in your stomach. that only lasted for a couple seconds since the doorbell of your front door goes off.

“c-coming!” your voice cracks. you make your way over to the entrance of your home and breathe in. you open the doors slightly, peeking through the gap at the tall, intimidating man standing before you.

toji was kicking a rock to the side whilst waiting and looked up when you opened the doors. he seemed laidback, as if this was nothing but child’s play to him, “took ya long enough.”

you were appalled as toji simply barged into your home like he owned it. his strong, masculine cologne wafted through the air as he passed you by without giving you a second to process his intrusion.

your shaky eyes followed his bulky figure—the muscles that bulged through his shirt, which tensed every now and then. his aura was no joke either; it was horrifying to someone whom didn’t even know who he was or what he exactly did for a living.

“phewww,” the dark-haired man let out a low whistle as his eyes scanned the interior of the entrance hall, shamelessly touching a few expensive looking decorations, inspecting the material, “pretty damn rich, ain’t ya? this y’r daddy’s money?”

you shake your head and close the door behind you, staying there in case you needed to run. you are still wary of this situation, even when you had been the one that started this all.

“h-husband’s.” your voice was a quiet whisper. toji raised an eyebrow and turned his attention towards you. his eyes scanned you from head to toe. you looked pretty young. a fragile little thing, is how he described you in his head.

“husband? you?” toji chuckles dryly, before stepping closer to you, his body towering over yours. he lowers his head and stares at you from up close, his hands in his pockets whilst wordlessly looking at you.

you swallowed a bit of saliva and glanced back at the big man whom belittled you twice in just a couple seconds. you fumbled with the sleeve of your hoodie as the silence grew deafening—the only sound being your own soft yet shallow breathing.

your fingers scratched at the bruises under the fabric of your clothes, causing the cloth to slightly crinkle and glide up a few centrimeters with each rub before coming back down once your fingers stop. the instant you start touching those bruises, the itching just wouldn’t stop.

toji noticed this and looked down at your arm. his eyes caught a small glimpse of a wound on your wrist, but he didn’t seem to comment on it. with a sniff, he straightened his back and cocked his head to the right—face cold again as he glared at you;

“do ya know what kinda stuff i do?” his voice was booming, the deepness to it making you shiver. you press your lips together and search for answer, only to find nothing;

“n-no, i mean—“ your itching increases the more nervous you felt, “th-the man who directed me to you said you’d explain things further. all i know is that you can get rid of uhm— a problem of mine.”

toji scoffs and mutters something incomprehensible under his breath about his ‘stupid agent letting him do all the work’ before turning around. he lazily walks ahead as if he had all the time he needed in the world. once arrived in your living room, the man plops down on your couch, spreads his legs and leans back against the cushions. he really acted like he owns this place.

“i’m not the type to beat around the bush, little lady,” toji starts whilst his eyes follow you as you nervously sat on the chair next to the sofa, “so i’m gonna get straight into it. and if ya back down after this or get too scared ‘n call the cops, unfortunately, y’r pretty ass gotta go.”

toji swipes a thumb across his neck to indicate what that latter meant; killed. you’re gonna get killed if you learn his real identity and decide to expose it to anyone, especially the police. you blinked your tears away whilst thinking of that possibility and shook your head, putting on a determined face. you need to take responsibilities for your actions. you were the one who started this.

“all right. i promise that i won’t back down.” you reply after getting yourself together. toji’s eyes had left yours for a second to look around the grand living room—as if inspecting for something—before settling back on you. he quickly exhales through his nose; leaning his head on his hand while his piercing gaze burned holes in your skin,

“i’m an assassin.” toji says in a bored tone. he’s done this little introduction to his job so many times before to clients who hire him in for the first time, “i kill people in exchange for money. so, ya basically hired me to get rid of someone ‘nd i’m here to collect the money and information i need to finish the job. got that?”

there it was. the confirmation you needed and got without an ounce of hesitation coming from the man in front of you. you had expected this outcome (from the many you created in your head), of course, thus you weren’t that surprised. yet the fact that you actually have a hitman in your house, someone who can easily kill your husband, still makes you nervous.

“yes, thank you.” you eventually replied and nodded, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. you looked up at toji and this time it wasn’t in a nervous way. this time it was in a determined way. toji notices this change and the scarred corner of his lip curled into a smirk.

“how much. . . money do you want for this job?” you go straight to the point. the dark-haired man grins whilst scanning your figure up and down shamelessly, enjoying the confident look on you. it suited you better.

“depends. who is it that i gotta kill?” toji asks, using his thumb to crack his index finger. you look around as if anyone could hear you. you were sure that no one was there with you, no maids no bodyguards no husband, yet your anxiety was still at its peak.

“my husband.” you reply quietly and point at the big picture frame on the wall near the chimney. it was a picture of daisuke and you. you seemed happy there, but it was all for show. that photoshoot was simply for his benefit, “daisuke. daisuke yamamoto.”

toji raises his eyebrow and stares at the picture. he’s heard of that name before. it was mentioned many times in the articles he reads. the assassin stands up with a grunt and walks to the chimney, letting out a small hum like he was thinking about it. not about if he could get the job done—no, his pride told him he easily could—but about the amount of money he wanted to get out of this.

there was a silence before toji turns around on his heels and walks over to the couch again, plopping down on the soft cushions whilst propping his feet on the table in front of him, “around seven million yen will do.”

that was about 50.000 dollars.

your jaw slightly dropped. it’s not like you haven’t seen nor heard of such big numbers before, it’s just that it was a little unexpected. but then again; nothing you can’t afford. with your husband’s money. the same money that ruined your life, is going to be used as a weapon to save it.

daisuke’s own money is going to be the death of him. and you’re the one to guarantee that.

“all right. i can get you that in cash.” you nod idly. your mind was clearly somewhere else—trying to remember the password to daisuke’s safe that was situated in a hidden room near his office. you recently found out that he keeps most cash, gold and other valuable pieces there, away from your sight. he was bad at hiding that fact from you, however.

one night, he came home drunk and it ended up with him confessing to you that he ‘won’t ever let a gold digger like you near his money again’ and proceeded to spill that he ‘has a secret safe which you won’t ever get your hands on’. eventually, you did. after a bit of snooping around, you easily found the hidden room behind a bookcase.

those fat stacks of money in there definitely add up to more than seven million yen. you’re sure of it. the only obstacle in your way is gathering that money. most of the time, daisuke locks his office before leaving home—or if he doesn’t—his maids will be in there cleaning.

“it will take me some time, but…” your voice trails off as a pensive look falls on your face. you bite your bottom lip and try to figure out something—a plan. toji catches your attention again by letting out a deep sigh. he dismissively waves your worries away with one hand;

“tha’s fine, lady. i need some time to prepare for this job too—it ain’t an easy one after all.” the assassin comments whilst scratching the scar near his lips, also seemingly deep in thought about his own plan, “bet he got lots of guards on his ass, too. tch.”

there was another thought in the back of toji’s mind that bothered him. normally, he’d be pissed off if his client didn’t prepare any kind of money beforehand. maybe some compensation bills, or at least a little thing he can have before they give him the full amount.

but with you, he seems not to mind. he wouldn’t be mad if he left this place empty handed for the time being. maybe he actually feels pity for your situation. or was it something else?

toji scoffs at his wandering mind and inwardly tells himself to shut up about such dumb stuff. getting his money is what’s most important to him. if you die afterwards, he wouldn’t care.

that’s what he tells himself.

“anyways. you should gimme all ya know about him. y’re his wife, right? ya should know his routine ‘n stuff that i can work with.” toji speaks up after the ten seconds of silence. you nod at his question—he wanted every single piece of information about your husband, so you’ll give him everything. no details excluded.

you pull out your phone and show toji pictures you took from daisuke’s computer in secrecy. pictures of his daily schedule for the upcoming month. your prior intention by taking those was to know when to be back home or when to avoid him, but they could be useful for this as well.

you continue to explain when and where daisuke holds his breaks, where his main office is located, the bodyguards that accompany him every day and when they leave him alone— all the information you gathered.

toji can’t help but be amazed by your memory. and the fact that you can recall everything, small or big, about your husband. it certainly did make his job easier; now he doesn’t have to pry out more hints on daisuke himself.

of course, you had your reasons for knowing all the miniscule facts about daisuke. it’s how you managed to survive those four years of marriage.

“good. tha’s enough.” toji nods and stands up with a grunt, stretching his arms—the muscles retracting. you couldn’t help but stare at them; he must have gone through a lot of training to become an assassin. a skilled one at that.

“before i go,” toji continues as he walks past you without looking back, heading straight for the exit of the living room, “you should delete all cctv footage that ya got going on ‘round here. i’ll take care of further evidence, yeah?”

toji moves his index finger in a circle, pointing at all corners in the house. he doesn’t want to risk anything, “i’ll call ya once i get things sorted out. then i’ll get to work when ya hand me the money.”

you nod and make a mental note for yourself to do that immediately once toji’s gone. you still had an hour or two before your husband would return. you don’t think he checks the cctv footage often (otherwise he’d have caught you sneaking into his office before), but it’ll be a big problem if he actually does and sees a random man in his home.

“will do. thank you.” you reply to toji and get up to politely see him out of your house. that’s when the realisation kicked in; your husband will be killed by this man right here in front of you. goosebumps appeared on your skin—not from fright. but from… happiness?

this stranger will end years of torment for you. yes, it’s his job. he’ll probably disappear after he’s got the money and completed your request, and yet, you can’t help but be extremely thankful.

without thinking, you reach out and grab onto toji’s wrist to stop him from moving. the assassin doesn’t stiff or tense up by this sudden touch. in fact, he’s already sensed it coming and allowed it.

toji’s actually more surprised by the fact that his mind and body allowed you to touch him. if it were anyone else, he’d probably have avoided their touch, broken their hand or worse—cut it off.

he moves his head to the side and looks at you from his peripherals, though not fully turning to you yet. he doesn’t speak up either; he’s waiting on you to go first.

your heart was somehow starting to beat even faster. you bit your lip and mentally cursed yourself out for pulling such an action; you could’ve just waited to show your gratitude through the phone.

well, either way, there was no going back now so you might as well spill your words of gratitude right this moment. you took a deep breath and parted your lips, ready to talk, but was then interrupted by your biggest nightmare.

a familiar, chilling voice. your heart drops. your body freezes.

“i knew it.”

a looming figure stood near the entrace to the living room. you recognised him instantly, as did your body, which went into an almost paralysed state. your mouth went dry, your hands started shaking and your eyes widened to the point you weren’t blinking anymore.

your husband, daisuke, appeared out of thin air in front of toji and you. his gaze was solely focused on the way your fingers were curled around toji’s wrist. to top it off, he had only heard the last bits of your conversation: something about deleting cctv and money. his brain hadn’t heard the entirety of it—he had already taken wrong conclusions in his head.

daisuke’s veins were on the verge of popping as he took two big steps towards you—you taking two steps back in response.

“i knew you were cheating on me, you fuckin’ slut.” daisuke spits with his finger pointed right at you. he was ignoring toji’s presence for the time being. he had to deal with you first;

“i work my ass off all day and night to provide for you and this is how you repay me? by inviting a random dude over whilst i’m gone? ungrateful bitch.”

two insults in a row; one more and daisuke’s putting his hands on you. it always went like that. your mind felt like it was emptied, but you somehow felt relieved that your husband didn’t seem to know the real reason of why toji had come over. daisuke really thought you were just cheating on him, and that your words of ‘deleting all cctv footage’ was to hide that infidelity.

“it’s n-not.. like that, daisuke.” you try to soothe the raging man in front of you, but your attempts were futile. he was just three quick steps away from resorting to physical violence.

toji, in the meantime, had stepped off to the side. you were only his client, thus there was no need to interrupt a couple’s ‘dispute’. you weren’t anyone dear or special to him—just a client. a stranger that owes him money to perform a job.

the assassin leans against a nearby wall, crossing his arms over his chest whilst watching the scene unfold. it was unfortunate that toji’s target was right there in front of him; he could just kill him right now. get the job done and over with. but, once again, toji only got to work if he had the money. he only assassinates when his skills are paid for. not any earlier and not any later. those were his morals—the rules he lives by.

if toji wanted to, he could simply walk away and let you handle this stuff by yourself. daisuke accusing him of being your ‘thing on the side’ didn’t bother him. as long as your husband doesn’t know his real identity, he’s fine with whatever accusations that get thrown at him.

but, for some reason—the same reason from earlier—his body was yelling at him to stay. toji sighs; he knows he won’t ever win a battle against his heart’s needs. he decides to stay.

daisuke still doesn’t seem to care about this; all the man wants is to out his anger and accuse you of things he now has enough ‘evidence’ for. he was seething and fuming at this revelation.

“god knows what else you’ve done behind my back. i bet he isn’t the only one you’ve fucke—“

“stop! i’m not cheating,” you finally yell back. it was the first time in a while that you had gathered the strength to do so. it felt good now that you had stuck up for yourself, but you knew how this would end for you—probably on the floor. crying.

despite all of that, you decided to keep on going. it’s now or never: all you have to do is make up a lie, probably withstand daisuke’s anger again and hope it doesn’t kill you. just this once; all you have to do is survive this once and then you’ll be freed from him.

you’ll give toji his money and he will do the job for you. just a few more days—

“he’s.. he’s my friend’s husband. i invited them both over and he just arrived earlier than expected.” you quickly made up. it sounded a little convincing to you. toji’s low snicker of amusement in the back confirmed that it maybe was the opposite of convincing.

daisuke scoffs at the pathetic attempt of hiding your ‘infidelity’. with another step forward, he raises his voice a notch; “yeah, right! what a pathetic excuse.”

a second step—you were waiting on that third curse. that third swear word that would set hell loose in this house, “do you really think you can fool me with that? huh?!”

it hadn’t happened yet. you still had time to think of a plan to perhaps escape this situation. your eyes flickered over to toji, although it didn’t seem like he’d be of any help. of course, he’s just an outsider after all. a stranger whom you just met today.

assassins have already disregarded their heart emotions the moment they decided to go down the path of killing for a living. you wouldn’t even blame toji for not stepping in. you’re also but a stranger to him.

toji could see the glimmer of hope in your eyes when you looked at him. or maybe it was a call for help. a desperate look. he can’t tell the difference. though, what he can tell, is that there was a gnawing feeling in the pits of his stomach. a gut feeling that told him it’d be smart to interfere.

but there’s his rational thoughts that tell him to not get involved—to avoid any more trouble than needed. besides, what other benefits would it bring him if he did? toji doesn’t want to be seen as a hero or saviour by anyone.

his jaw clenches as the time ticks. only a couple seconds left before the cold-hearted assassin has to make a decision.

daisuke’s patience was running low. the tension was increasing and could burst at any given moment now. one wrong move and you’re done—

one wrong breath could result in the worst possible outcome.

your silence spoke volumes to daisuke. the way you held your head low, your eyes that flickered from the floor to the ceiling, your fingers that nervously fumbled with your clothes and your bottom lip that trembled unstoppably. that pissed him off.

everything about you pissed him off. daisuke didn’t see any benefits of having you around anymore. he hadn’t for the long time, however didn’t know how he’d get rid of you.

divorce? no, he’ll have to give some of his earnings to you. kick you out? a possibility, but that would ruin his reputation. blackmail? that option was now the best choice. he’s caught you with another man after all. with camera evidence.

but, daisuke wouldn’t be satisfied with that outcome. his rage was blinding him—more than usual. he has to make you learn your lesson. in a way that will have you begging for your life to be spared.

and thus, the last step was made. the deciding hands were raised—aimed for your neck. the final curse had left his lips;

“come here. i’ll show you how whores like you should be treated.”

killing intent. it was the first time you’ve seen daisuke’s gaze darken that much, his demeanour emotionless yet full of rage. you close your eyes and expect for the worse.

“tha’s enough.”

everything went blank to you. it was silent, your vision was black, your hands were above your head, your heart felt like it wasn’t beating anymore—had you met your end? had you already been murdered?

in that same instant, you could feel drops of liquid splatter on your face. a faint ringing sound in your ears—it sounded like fireworks had been set off. a loud ‘pop’ sound.

something hit the ground right after. it wasn’t your body since that someone or something landed right at your feet.

after that: utter silence.

you gathered all your strength once more and slowly opened your eyelids. your vision was a bit blurry, though the first shape you could make out was one of a man on the ground. and not just any man—it was the man whom you hated most. at your feet.

you would’ve never thought of seeing that image before. of your husband laying at your feet; both literally and figuratively. a red liquid gushed out of his head and soaked into your shoes.

a normal wife would’ve let out a blood hurling scream at the sight of her lover laying lifelessly near her. a normal wife with a healthy relationship, that is.

you did let out a scream at the sight of your husband laying lifelessly near your feet. but that wasn’t done out of panic for your husband’s life—or due to the pain you were in to see him dead.

it was purely because you hadn’t seen a corpse before.

“d-daisuke..?”

a normal wife would’ve called out her husband’s name in a futile attempt that he’d answer back. that all of it was a dream. that her beloved wasn’t dead.

your reason wasn’t anything close to that. you called out that name in hopes he wouldn’t answer back. that all of it wasn’t a dream. that your abuser was dead.

it was real. you were glad, yet extremely disturbed by the fact that there was a corpse at your feet. you didn’t want to see all of it happening—that wasn’t part of the plan.

you stumble back a bit, hands clutching onto the chair you bumped into as you did your best to avoid the gruesome scene before your eyes. you just wished someone would clean the mess as soon as possible.

it’s then that your gaze fell on the other person present in the room; the man who was standing with a gun in his hand. toji scratched his head with the barrel, cold eyes looking down at the corpse with a faintly visible disgusted expression.

the assassin clicks his tongue as he walks towards the lifeless body and puts the sole of his shoe on daisuke’s cheek as if he was stepping on a pile of dirt, moving the head back and forth to check for any possible ounce of life in there.

there was none. the soul had left its body almost instantly after that bullet went through his brain. toji sighs; this time at himself for acting irrationally, “should’ve tortured you to death for tryin’ to put y’r hands on that lady instead of givin’ you the easy way out.”

with a harsh kick to the head on the floor, toji gathers some of his saliva on his tongue before spitting on the man. doubling the disrespect; “consider yourself lucky.”

toji cocked his head to the right. that’s where he spotted you with a familiar look on your face. the expression of someone who just went through a traumatic experience. he’s seen many people react like you when facing a near death experience or when witnessing somebody die before them.

usually, he’d tell them ‘it’s normal, get used to it’ and leave it at that. this was different. it felt different with you.

“are you okay?” the words slipped out of toji’s mouth before he could hold them back. his tone was a mixture of genuine concern and confusion. the latter was due to his own state of mind at the moment.

you didn’t answer, but you put your hands on your mouth as if you were going to puke any moment now. your vision was getting blurry with tears, head spinning and body feeling numb and weird.

toji hesitates before stepping towards you. his hands reached out to hold you, though he stopped them. he’d figured you wouldn’t be comfortable with him touching you in any way or form. he just killed someone in front of you—

it’s not like you cared that it was your husband. that much was clear. you sniff and glance up at toji with such a relieved yet devastated expression that his arms instinctively wrapped around you and pulled you into his warm embrace.

it was an awkward hug since toji doesn’t really know the basics of comforting someone. he was a bit stiff, but you didn’t show any discomfort due to that fact. instead, you clung onto his body and left tear stains on his black shirt.

“shhh, shh. it’s fine. it’s okay.” toji whispers, whilst his big hands indecisively move around, trying to find a spot to rest on. one eventually lands on the back of your head whilst the other starts to slowly rub up and down your spine, “it’s over, yeah? all of it—it’s over.”

toji doesn’t have a clue about the exact details of what your life was like. why you asked him to kill your (now ex-)husband was none of his business. all he knew was that he was going to get paid for it, so he didn’t care what the reason was.

it wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed the scars and bruises on your body throughout your conversation either—but that as well—was none of his business. assassins do their job without any further questions. there was no need to have personal connections or relations with their clients.

yet, toji was going against those unspoken rules once more. all because of you. for you.

“thank y—you.” your voice was weak as you speak up. it sounded hoarse and tired, though the sense of gratitude was undeniably there, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”

a series of ‘thank you’s’ leave your lips whilst your body and mind were still trying to recover from the whole ordeal. toji was trying his best to keep by your side until you calmed down. that’s the least he could do—after the fact that he singlehandedly got rid of the main problem in your life.

“no need to thank me, lady.” the dark-haired man whispers, allowing you to mess up his shirt with your tears and tugs, “i did what i had to do.”

toji didn’t actually have to do what he did. he never does his job before he’s guaranteed the money. however this time, it was a different story. he did it without thinking. he had to. his body was telling him to move—and in a flash—it was done.

he tries to tell himself that it’s just him slacking off. that he isn’t possibly starting to care about another person. he shouldn’t; those complicated emotions would stand in his way. and yet. . .

“c’mere.”

toji lifts you up bridal style while you keep quivering against his shoulder. his hands had a tight grip on your body, his eyes a sharp gaze on the mess he created. with a sigh, he takes you upstairs to a random room—kicking the door open.

toji carefully puts you back on your feet and guides you to sit on the edge of the kingsized bed. he absentmindedly brushes a few strands of your hair back after wiping some more tears away from your face;

“i know it’s a lot to take in,” toji kneels down before you, looking up with an unreadable expression whilst wiping the tears from your cheeks. his warm palms make contact with your skin and it’s like you’ve forgotten all about what just happened, “but is it okay if ya stay here while i go take care of the rest? i’ll come back once i’m done.”

toji has his own ways of cleaning up after he’s done a job and most likely wants to put one of those techniques to use before any maid or guard comes to check in on the house situation. you sniffle and hiccup afterwards, trying to form a verbal response through your broken sobs, but to no avail.

you simply nod and lean into toji’s calloused hands—such rough and masculine hands—ones that were meant to protect instead of hurt you. you weren’t able to trust men after your marriage, however this one in front of you was unlike any other. even if he may not seem like it on the outside.

his touch was gentle yet firm. the pads of his thumbs swiped the wet skin under your lower eyelashes and you could’ve sworn toji’s gaze had softened for a split second before he caught himself.

he had to stand up, get rid of the mess and leave the place before he got too attached to you. the assassin cannot make such a grave mistake.

“i promise,” toji speaks up after a bit again, standing up after giving you a soft pat against your shoulder, “you’re fine. i’ll be back—ya have my word.”

there he goes; making promises he knows he probably can’t keep. ‘i’ll be back’, will he? he can’t. for your own safety. he has to treat you as just another client. none of what he did in this house could be spoken of anymore.

he slipped up this once. it needn’t to happen again. money. he does his jobs for money—when he obtains the money. he doesn’t kill his targets for the sake of others, for the protection of others.

he doesn’t kill for love.

toji wishes that all of this had never happened, because he knows that his heart will lead him back to you at the end of the day. he knows he won’t leave once he cleans up the mess downstairs. he’ll come right back to you.

and you have faith in that. you trust this stranger whom had practically saved your life with just one shot.

“i don’t know how to repay you.. thank you.” you manage to mutter through shallow breaths. you stare at the back of toji’s head as he makes his way to the door. he stops in his tracks to reply to your comment.

he stands still at the doorway and looks over his shoulder at you—the scarred corner of his lips twitching;

“prepare the money. tha’s how you can repay me.” toji replies and you don’t know if he’s joking or being serious because of that little grin on his face. a breathy chuckle follows and then the assassin disappears.

the door closes and you’re left alone in this space. left alone in the silence of the home that had treated you as its prisoner. you remember how your husband used to lock you up in your bedroom whenever you had done something to piss him off; taking away your freedom by keeping you in a room.

now it’s yours—your life is yours. you’ve fully gained your freedom back and can decide what to do for yourself. it seems like a foreign situation, a foreign world, a foreign concept; you can now actually do whatever your heart desires. without any restraints.

“what is a successful marriage?”

well, to you, it’s one with a satisfactory ending.

🏷️ : @satoruhour @squicksquak @omgeto @xmintpie @cursingtoji @obsidiannero @elmoees @x1aosg1rl @fushironi @ceceher @ajax1230 @toji-is-hot @jayugh @rinshoe @sligerate @satoryaa @luveblad3 @happystrawberrytyrant @ezraiix

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #toji x you #jjk fic #jjk x y/n #toji fushiguro x reader #i tried my best :#:(…

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