#it’s only us and those poor bastards on the street I have to walk past every day

[oomox]

also bro the way my coworker last week said “only we are” after I joked “nothing here is real” (we work at a vegan restaurant) ….. pure poetry

[mayra-quijotescx]

my family came over here to get away from mafia bullshit but the whole fucking country is mafia bullshit. our cities give all our fucking money to the most violent and worthless pieces of shit our society can create instead of providing shelter and healthcare, and then those pieces of shit with their fucking badges and fleet vehicles and military surplus get to hunt for sport all the people who are houseless and without healthcare.

(you don't want to read this. i didn't want to see it. if you do want to read, i needed to get it out of me so here it is. big tw police violence)

we just saw four fucking guys handcuff and manhandle and strap restraints around the legs and torso of a man whose only crimes as far as we can tell were being Black, poor, and suffering from heatstroke. They shoved him down onto the hood of a hot-ass black cop car in blistering daylight, the feels like temperature was 100F, then they wrangled him onto the ground in such a way that his cuffed-behind-back hands were pressed down against the scalding pavement, rush hour traffic was crawling by so the smog was thick, they at one point put him on his back and he had to arch up like a fucking banana to not have his face touch scalding asphalt, and he begged for water while the gang in blue rotated him in and out of the backseat of a different ugly-ass cop car while a couple of EMTs stood there being completely fucking negligent and worthless. This wasn't enough, apparently, so two more overpaid overgrown ringworms showed up in a third car to 'help.'

the man just needed some goddamn water and to be out of the fucking blazing heat.

And all we could do was stand there across one half of the street and fucking watch four thugs manhandle someone helpless in the throes of a medical emergency and be ready to film if their violence exited the realm of plausible deniability and approached lethality before they moved him to a second location. All we can do is fucking bear witness and try for a posthumous consequence that will just get dodged anyway because cops have their nasty-ass boots on the neck of our entire country. I wish hell was somewhere else so all those motherfuckers both active and complicit could burn in it, instead of here where we all have to live. Let hot concrete eat away at their skin for a while, see how they like it, and no water for them except when God leans down to spit in their faces. maybe i'd go there too and roast for a bit myself for not being able to do shit.

oh and then I got to be wound up the whole way home too bc when we got out of the fucking store that was the only reason we even went outside today, there was another cop car parked on the sidewalk in front of the store entrance nearer where it happened, and when we got to the road there was one sitting with its lights on in front of a fast food place across the street, and then as we were walking home one sped past us way above speed limit blinking its siren on and off. So their bloodlust was not in fact sated and they had to do a rush-hour speed trap on a main thoroughfare. fucking worthless parasite mafia thugs. the terminal-case intestinal worms of our society, bastards of the lowest and slimiest order. death is too good for every last one of them, but I wish it on them nonetheless, and when it finds them I hope it burns low and slow like a fucking stew.

[tteokdoroki]

had it | k.bakugou.

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 4.5K

♡ rating: everyone.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff, comfort.

♡ summary: your pro hero husband is a show off, always has and always will be... but when his big ego gets in the way of you doing your job, you give him little piece of your mind..

♡ warning(s): please read ! mentions of violence, i gave reader a quirk?? bakugou with a daughter ok literally nothing. oh and angst if you squint.

♡ author’s note(s):  hi besties!! happy birthday to meee!! today i’m dropping a fic that’s been a long time coming, its a short and fluffy little piece with domestic baku bc i love him with babies n kids ok ok!! i hope you all have a lovely day <3

♡ masterlist | requests | kofi

some say that working for a pro hero is an honour, no matter what the position is. some may work behind the scenes— creating gear and suits that support the pros protecting their cities or livelihoods. others are in charge of things like reports, PR and even physical health. everyone plays an important role in a hero's career. there’s never a dull moment working in a team supporting the pros, especially if that pro was dynamight.

the offices for katsuki bakugou’s hero agency were always buzzing; usually because the clean up team were rushing through with stacks upon stacks of receipts and paperwork from the damage done during bakugou’s patrols— other times it would be his secretaries gossiping about how good he looks in his winter costume because damn did that tight black shirt do his arms justice but usually it was just because of the PR team contacting media outlets with excuses for bakugou’s potty mouth.

working for the hot headed blonde was more laid back than it seemed however, the man himself was rarely ever in the office as the number two hero but out on missions instead, the pay was pretty decent and no one ever really faced his angry wrath nor his sailor like mouth unless they had royally fucked up on their job. katsuki bakugou was someone to admire, he never gave a damn about what people had to say about him— he only cared about getting the job done and maybe that’s why most people enjoyed their time under the dynamight agency.

particularly this time, right around noon.

the doors to the floor of the secretary offices fly open, crashing loudly against the walls and drawing the staff from their daily work. this office space is around ten floors up and somehow you’ve made it in record time today. “where is he?” your voice crawls through the entrance of the room, settling over the workers like a thick fog— commanding, menacing and soft all at the same time. newbies cower in their boots, confused at what’s going on and it’s safe to presume those who have been working here for years have yet to give them the run down. “don’t make me ask again.” you add, eyes darkening as you cast your gaze across the room.

an intern approaches you, visibly shaking with fear which makes you loosen your stance and raise an eyebrow toward them. “he-uh... he just went for his lunch break—“ the stutter, gulping under the stare of another highly ranked pro hero. “in his...office— ma’am!” they stumble through their words, hiding behind the ungodly amount of paperwork that's been dumped into their hands. you make a mental note to chew bakugou out on the load his interns have been getting as well as your prior reasons for coming to his agency.

nonetheless you shake your head and drop the frown, a sweet smile quickly replacing the look that could put anyone six feet under if you really tried. with a tap to the side of your head, the visor to your hero costume rises above your eyes— allowing you to give the poor little intern a cheeky wink as thanks. “‘ppreciate it darling, have a good one!” you thank them properly with a ruffle to their hair, resuming your previous stance as you march the rest of the way through the office and kick open the door at the end of the room.

the intern sags, a whimper of relief passing from tired lips while they wipe at the sweat forming on their brow. they’d not even encountered their boss yet and they’d already come face to face with a top pro hero. “w-what’s her deal?”

a chuckle to the left of the poor kid startles them out of their mind; but they relax upon realising it’s just another one of dynamight’s secretaries— haruto, who’d apparently been working at the agency since it started up. “that’s nightsky, her quirk is lullaby, which allows her to control certain people if she hits the right note. she can also put them to sleep, if she really wants to,” the intern now perks up, remembering you from countless interviews on tv. you ranked pretty highly too, managing to the reach the top five this year along with others like shoto and deku. “she owns the hero agency across the street, herself and dynamight have been going at it ever since. it’s like they’re elderly lovers or somethin‘.”

“d-do you think they are? lovers like you say?” the intern asks a little too excitedly, touching at their messy hair from where you’d ruffled it. a crimson blush warms their cheeks, the idea of two pros playing enemies to the public eye but being lovers in secret seemed like something right out of a romance novel. how romantic.

haruto only chuckles at the newbie, standing to ruffle their hair as well before heading over to the coffee stand to fix himself a cup. “beats me,” he mumbles cheerily as he walks away, arms crossed behind his head. “but with the way yn bursts in here at the same time everyday to scold bakugou, and leaves with a huge smile on her face— i wouldn’t put it past them. they probably have a whole life together.” he taps his nose once as if he’s given away too much information, turning away without a word.

the intern hums, seemingly happy with their superior’s answer and easily heads back to work from there.

katsuki bakugou was bored out of his mind.

being a successful pro hero was all he’d ever wanted— being the number two pro hero just came with that. bakugou wanted to get to the top and show everyone he was the best of the best and with him being blessed with a powerful quirk there was no way he couldn’t be where he was today. yet, now that he’d finally achieved his dream all he wanted was a fucking break. the blonde stares down at his microwaveable bowl of home cooked stew, a frown cutting deep into his cheeks. it was his lunch break for crying out loud, but instead of scarfing down the delicious meal before him, the hero was forced to watch it cool as some dumb fuck reporter asked him questions over the phone.

the telephone interview ( or a waste of his fucking time, as katsuki had called it ) , had been set up by his PR team right after he’d taken down a couple low level villains downtown earlier this morning. katsuki had called it nothing but apparently the whole world and their mother had been on his ass, watching as he took the criminals down with ease and raving about how glorious dynamight was during that fight. the reporter drones on about said event, asking the same old questions and it takes everything within the hot headed pro not to blow a casket— he’d been promised a few extra days off from his manager if he could finish the interview without blowing something up and only god knew how much katsuki needed a break from dumb paps and some overly obsessive fans.

‘so, final question, how does it feel to be the number two?’

bakugou grunts, buying himself time to formulate an answer. what he really wants to do is kindly tell the reporter to fuck off and ask more original questions; but with the prize of a longer weekend hanging in the balance he bites his tongue for the sake of freedom. “well i—“

“katsuki bakugou.” your voice cuts through his sentence before he can finish, vermillion eyes land on your hero costume clad form as you burst into his office. a lazy smirk now decorates the hero’s lips, brow quirked with piqued interest. “i have a bone to pick with you, you motherfucker.”

the reporter on the other end falls silent as katsuki watches you, leaning back in his plush leather chair. you look slightly disheveled, costume torn in a few places, scrapes littering your skin as you pant heavily from exertion— chest rising and falling with every breath, it seems ragged and bakugou makes a mental note to remind you to get your ribs checked out later. “you’re late, shitty woman.” the number two sits up a little straighter as you enter the room, leaning up to look at you while you slam your hands down on the smooth marble desk— the force rattling the items he has neatly placed on it.

‘uh-? mister...dynamight-? sir?’

your eyes sweep the room while the pro before you deals with the reporter, mentioning to her that they’ll have to continue their call later. in the meantime, you note that katsuki’s office is meticulously clean, not a single book, folder or pen out of place— it’s high up with a perfect view of the city and the large windows allow golden beams of the sun to light up the room. the sound of a phone being placed back on its hook brings you from your thoughts; annoyance settling deep in your veins as you turn to face bakugou again.

“i had it,” you growl lowly, jumping the gun before he can even register what you’ve said. “i’m a grown woman, katsuki, i can handle a couple of criminals myself, you know.”

the blasting hero does nothing but smirk even wider at the irked tone that litters your voice, standing up as well to tower over you. bakugou still wears his own hero costume, considerably in less damage than yours— not a single tear had formed in his suit, mind the small scratches on his face no doubt from his stupid explosions creating some debris. leaning over the desk between you, bakugou uses a forefinger and thumb to tilt your head up, bringing you even closer than before. “clearly y’didn’t sweetheart, or otherwise that icyhot bastard wouldn’t have needed to back you up ‘fore i got there...” his timbre voice sends sparks of electricity through the air in the room, it’s low and gravelly which is enough to send shivers down your spine but you’re not about to let katsuki bakugou know that he makes you flustered— it’d go straight to his head, the cocky bastard.

nonetheless; you roll your eyes at the mention of your old classmate and fellow pro hero— shoto todoroki. yourself and shoto got along fairly well, even back in high school, so it was normal for you to work together from time to time; you both made a great team and your skill set complimented each other’s well. katsuki was just jealous. he never really got along with todoroki like that. “he didn’t back me up, we were working together,” you snap back at the blonde, shaking yourself from bakugou’s grasp and flicking him right between those alluring vermillion eyes. “something you might not be familiar with, mister number two.” bakugou backs away from you completely ( only wincing slightly ), making you smirk in victory. you’ve struck a nerve. deciding to leave the conversation at that, you turn to make your exit as he collapses back into his seat with a deathly scowl and a quiet ‘tch’. “like i said, i had it, dynamight. next time, don’t jump in uninvited.”

happy that you got the last laugh, you open the door to leave his office but pause when a wave of heat hits your back. you should have known, katsuki bakugou was never one to back down from a challenge and you certainly weren’t an exception. well shit. when you turn around to face the blonde, small explosions spark from his right hand and he has some what of a look of a feral pomeranian, blood red eyes full of rage.

you visibly gulp and katsuki growls out his next words with the upmost venom, designed to hurt and cut at your feelings. “well maybe y’sudda let the actual pros handle shit like this,” bakugou begins, voice rising in volume with every syllable that passes his lips. “we both know you’re no good at short distance attacks with your quirk, shitty woman, you couldn’t have taken those villains down without me.” the blonde finishes with a short ‘tsk’, settling the explosions that spark in his palms. now it’s your turn to be pissed. you could handle katsuki’s jealousy, his petty reasoning for joining you on your patrol and taking the credit but bashing you and your quirk? no way in hell would he get away with that.

“bakugou?”

“what? the fuck y’still here for?”

you roll your shoulders, gracing the blonde with a devilish smile as your eyes light up mischievously. “why are you hitting yourself, bakugou?” you sing, hitting just the right notes that will have him under your spell, the tone in your voice as smooth as chocolate. katsuki’s eyes widen in horror and before he can stop himself, his free hand comes up to slap him across the face. that was your quirk, lullaby. you had the ability to sing your way out of any situation— adjusting the tune of your song to control the actions of certain individuals or groups of people. it was near impossible to resist but the more people you used your quirk on, the weaker your control over them was. that doesn’t mean you weren’t going to use it on bakugou from time to time. the blonde tries to fight it, he really does, but he’s no use up against your ability— losing all control of his own body. he grunts on impact, looking bewildered for a moment as he moves to grab his own wrist to stop any impending blows. “not so cocky now, are we dynamight?”

“h-hey!” he stammers, refusing to accept defeat against you. “shitty woman, no fuckin’ fair. you know i can’t use my quirk against you in here.” he was right, while your quirk was poor against short distance attacks ( meaning you had to result to hand to hand combat ), bakugou couldn’t use his own in enclosed spaces without hurting anyone he didn’t want to. especially you, he would never hurt you intentionally unless you were sparring.

“shoulda thought about that before you decided to taunt me, you know better than to piss off your wife, katsu.” you chide, still smiling just as brightly as you were earlier, before taking a seat on his desk and folding one leg over the other. it was quite amusing to watch your husband of four years fight against himself— everyone knew katsuki had an unbelievable amount of strength even without his quirk so he was definitely beating himself up ( literally and figuratively ).

bakugou looks up at you through gritted teeth while he struggles to keep the wrist you have control of down and you almost feel bad for the guy. “turn it off, dammit!” he curses at you, said hand rising above his free one to tug at his own sun kissed locks.

feigning interest in the objects on your lover's desk, you ignore his pleas for you to release him from the holds of your quirk and hum “apologise.”

“f-fuck... fuck y-you.”

you sigh knowingly, picking up a hand crafted paperweight, covered in glitter and sequin stars,  inspecting it carefully. bakugou could hardly ever say the word ‘sorry’, it was just in his nature and he’d been that way since you were young. part of you knows it’s because of how he was treated as a child where people praised him for his quirk. that meant he became prideful yes, thought highly of himself too and struggled to admit when others were right...but he had his own way of apologising— through actions instead of words.

like when you first moved in together and he had broken your favourite mug, instead of saying he was sorry, he spent all night super glueing it back together for you to use in the morning. to him, actions were louder than words but you right now; you were being mean and just wanted to hear him say it.

“fuck fuck, fine. alright. ‘m sorry.” bakugou lets out a strained growl as the hand you control gives a particularly hard yank to his hair. “i’m sorry for lying about your quirk. it’s not shitty…’n ‘m sorry for... barging in on your patrol. again.” you grin, satisfied with his answer and grab the hand he keeps down with his wrist. you press a simple kiss to the skin, making your husband blush as you release your hold over the limb. katsuki shyly yanks it from your grip, rubbing over the area that you’d kissed, shooting his gaze to the side in the process. “jesus shitty woman, if i don’t die from being a hero or of old fucking age, i know for a fact you’ll be the one to kill me first.” he mutters harshly under his breath, but you know he’s only kidding from the way his hands now fall to your thighs and his fingers rub small circles into the exposed skin.

“pro hero nightsky murders number two pro hero dynamight in cold blood!” you joke as if you’re reading a headline in a news article, katsuki only glares up at you— making no effort to curse you out because of your shitty joke, which causes you to frown while leaning  forward to brush some of his hair away from his face. “you know i’m only kidding right? is something wrong? did i come at a bad time?”

it’s only now that you notice the exhausted expression that paints your lover’s face. he’s always up to playing this game with you, at the same time every day— you come to bother him about some trivial matter, tease him a bit and leave with a kiss. but today, you can tell he’s trying to hide something from you. something that bothers him.

bakugou shakes his head, leaning into your touch as you play with his hair— a habit he’d picked up from even before you started dating back in high school, although he’d never admit that to you if you’d asked. “nothin’, just this stupid fuckin’ interview the PR team want me to do about the fight today. the one i took from you,” your husband smirks slightly at the thought and you roll your eyes for what seems like the nine hundredth time that afternoon. “didn’t get to finish my fuckin’ lunch but they promised me a couple days off if i got the interview done.”

“better the number two than me, eh? but don’t worry, i’ll order us some take out tonight,” your suggest, voice coming out as soft and mingling with your slight giggle— a quiet melody to katsuki’s ears. your only reply from him is a grunt, so you stop your fingers in his hair and watch as he scowls up at you. you quickly press a kiss to the explosive hero’s lips, pulling away to reveal his blushing face. you smile, knowing that you’re the only one who can make him flush red like that. “there’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?”

if there’s one thing katsuki bakugou hates, it’s how you read him like an open book. one look at him and it’s like you know exactly how he’s feeling. he can never hide anything from you— sometimes that both pisses him off and reminds him of how much he is loved by you. he hesitates with his words at first but decides to confide in you anyway, knowing that you’ll get it out of him in one way or another. “‘m worried about you, dumbass.” he mumbles, nudging your hand with his head as if to ask you to continue your earlier actions. “i know you had it, yer fuckin’ powerful but you looked so tired in that fight today ‘n i thought something bad was gonna happen to you, y’fuckin’ shitty woman.”

he toys with the tears in your costume now, smoothing over scars from your bumps and scratches as a result of combat. “oh lovebug,” you mumble, cupping his cheeks to make him look up at you. “you know i can handle my own, they just took a lot out of me today. i promise i’ll—“

“that’s not it, fuck,” katsuki cuts you off, brows furrowing deeply as he grabs your wrists— pulling your from his desk and into his lap. he holds you close, burying his nose into your neck as if you’re going to disappear. you sit still, a little shocked by his actions and his quick change of mood, but wrap your arms around him anyway and slowly fall silent. “it's just that...we’re both pros now and at the top of our ranks ‘n we both have a lot to lose.” you instinctively cling tighter to katsuki, mind flickering to the homemade paperweight you’d spotted on his desk earlier... causing your heart clench.

your daughter had made that for him during her time at preschool for fathers day; something your husband cherished with his whole heart, even if the thing was still sticky with glue when he’d gotten it.

katsuki loved taiga more than anything in the world and if something had happened to her because of your line of work, you don’t know what either of you would do. “what if something were to happen to you? or to me? or shit...both of us? who would look after taiga? you know what happens to kids who end up in the fucking system.” bakugou pauses, the same tired expression from earlier now sitting heavily on his face. “i just want you to be careful, stop pushing yourself so much, y’fuckin’ dumbasss. we have a family take care of. it’s not just you and i anymore.”

you nod, grasping onto your lover’s clothes tightly. the air is flooded with a comfortable silence, the pair of you holding one another right the way through it. you treasure moments like this, where the world stops and katsuki shows you another, more vulnerable side to him.

he would never admit or show this to anyone; but he cares , more than he lets on... especially for you and especially for your daughter. he was attentive, paid attention to you and your weaknesses and helped you overcome them. it was something you couldn’t stop loving about him. “i promise to be more careful, for you and for taiga,” you say quietly after he’s done scolding you, brushing your lips against the side of his head in a soft peck. “that must’ve been why jumped in earlier, you were worried about me?”

“somethin’ like that, you crazy woman,,” bakugou whispers, there’s a tinge of fondness to his ruby eyes as you pull away to look at him, his hands settling on your hips while he moves up to press a soft kiss to your awaiting lips. “didn’t want you getting yourself killed.”

you stay with katsuki in the office for a little longer than usual, laying on his chest as he prattles away about everything and anything even though he should be working. you make sure he eats his lunch, despite how cold it is and promise him a boat load of take out when he comes home later— your sweet cuddling session only being cut short by a call from your assistant to tell you that your daughter is ready to be picked up from school. “better finish that interview katsu, taiga’ll be happy to know her daddy’s getting some time off to spend with her soon,” you remind him as you gather yourself together, your husband pouting ( he swears on his life he wasn’t ) from the loss of your warmth in his lap. “she has a lot to tell you.”

the blonde quirks a brow, watching you as you head for the door. “yeah? like what?” a hand comes up to cover your mouth as you giggle at his curious face. sometimes, when you look at katsuki, you could see how much your daughter resembles him, right down to his mannerisms. she had somehow inherited the shape of your nose and the brightness of your smile ( the only reason barely anyone realised bakugou had a kid, he never fucking smiled. ) but the bakugou genes were incredibly strong so there was no way she’d miss out on those crimson eyes and uncontrollable, untameable messy blonde hair.

she even acted like him. a very brazen little girl who knew what she wanted and how to get it, so she had her daddy wrapped around her stubby little fingers.

you grin, eyes sparkling with the same mischief as before. “oh y’know, just her little crush on midoriya’s boy.”

“yer fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”

“i would never joke about such a thing,  just make sure you’re home in time for dinner, number two!” you squeal, dashing out of the office before your husband has time to demand more answers from you. slamming the door shut, you chuckle at the melody of curses that leave your husbands mouth before heading off to pick up your daughter.

on your way, you admit to yourself , that maybe you didn’t have this fight in the bag. but what you did have; was a loving husband, a beautiful daughter and the best life you could have ever imagined.

extended ending:

“so, taiga... daddy hears you have a little... crush on someone.”

you’re in the kitchen, washing the dishes from tonight’s dinner as bakugou wipes tentatively at your little girl’s messy face— she was a poor eater but it’s something you didn’t mind, not when your husband was so soft with cleaning her up. you can see them from where you stand, watching katsuki knowingly.

taiga looks up from the colouring you’d set out for her when she finished up her meal, crimson eyes shining brightly as she fixes her gaze on her father. “mhm mhm!! he’s mister deku’s son! and i’m gonna marry him!”

“no yer not.” bakugou answers simply, looking close to popping a vein.

“why not?”

your husband scoffs, throwing away the tissue he’d used to clean his little girl up before joining her in her colouring. “‘cause daddy says so ‘n boys are gross, especially ones who’s dad’s look like broccoli.” the older ash blonde seems satisfied with his answer, grinning to himself as you dry the dishes with an amused smile.

but taiga isn’t finished, swapping her green crayon for a red one to finish up her drawing. “but you’re a boy...and mommy still married you!”

bakugou pauses, lost for words as taiga continues to colour— humming the theme song from a commercial for some of deku’s merch. you can tell it’s taking everything katsuki’s got not to combust right there on the spot, but he can’t stay mad at taiga for too long, not when she’s describing her wedding and how her daddy is going to walk her down the isle.

setting the dishes to dry and towelling your hands; you smile to yourself as you admire your family. some would say you had it all, and looking at the pair of bakugou’s now, who were you to deny the truth.

[shadowworks]

Compulsion

Pairing: Mafia!Dabi X Reader

Warnings: dubconish themes, flirting with Hawks, blood, murder, blackmail, fingering. NSFW, quirkless AU!

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Alright! This piece is for The Smut Pile Mafia Collab

I have to give my wholehearted thanks to @hisoknen @some-kindofgnome , @pleasantanathema, and @ever-enthralled for reading this over the last couple weeks, and making sure it reads well! I am so happy to have you beautiful souls! Also a special shoutout to Raph for brainstorming with me when I was stuck at the very end. 💕

Edit: This has fanart! Beautiful @maewoahoah created a Mafia!Hawks piece right here and a Mafia!Dabi piece here! She’s very talented! ;)

On this ominous winter evening it begins snowing. 

You readjust your peacoat and step through the frosty glow of the street lamp to your front door. Your muscles ache a little more than usual, your steps a little heavier. It’s been a long and tedious day at work; far less stimulating compared to Toga’s position working for a bootlegger named Tomura. But both jobs pay the rent. You push papers and withhold your scowls towards clients. Now, you want a bath. 

The sound of a muffled radio plays on the other side, and it floods your ears as you walk in with warmth and an iron smell wafting your chilled nose. 

“Folks, I'm goin' down to St. James Infirmary...

Seeeee, my baby there;

She's stretched out on a long, white table

She looks so sweet, so cold, so fair.”

Toga’s playing blues again. It’s a routine she has before the graveyard shift across town. At this time, she’s in the kitchen making something before she goes, but you’re having trouble figuring out what food smells like copper. 

“He-e-e-y,” you call lazily, a sing-songy tone in your voice. 

She doesn’t answer, though you hear the clacking of stiletto heels on wood, which makes you amble down the hall to see what she’s doing. 

“Think you can smuggle some whiskey tonight? I thought we had some, but Keigo probably polished it off last—“

You stop in the doorway. 

There’s a poor bastard lying flat on his back, head twisting too far towards the sink. Ribbons of blood streak down his colorless skin, pouring out from a dark and glossy hole just beneath his jaw. You see it puddle and stain the edges of his hair a sticky red, the only sound besides your heart thudding is the soft thrums from the parlor.

“ When I die please bury me in my high top Stetson hat

Put a twenty dollar gold piece on my watch chain

So the gang'll know I died standing pat.”

You’re in a daze, one where you’re not sure how long you’ve been staring. It doesn’t seem real. Is it real? But it’s not until you hear the sound of heels clicking against the wood floors that you drag your gaze to the noise. 

Toga’s standing near the stove, her features vacant, shoulders slouched, and she’s holding a knife that’s still wet.

What the fuck? 

You want to scream, berate her, seethe what the fuck was she thinking, or if she was thinking for that matter. But the blonde speaks up before you do, with a voice above a whisper. 

“He was going to leave me. Said he was too dangerous.” Toga doesn’t look in your direction, moving to the rim of pooled blood which has stopped spreading out, “I told him I wouldn’t let anyone come between us, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Your jaw goes taut, staring incredulously at her steely face. The lack of emotion gives you a sinking feeling in your stomach.

The man wasn’t a random suit who bled out on your floor, this moron was seeing Toga on and off for months and had been trying to be more present.

Nights spent arriving at your door with flowers and sweets, and driving her to work was becoming a staple in his routine. He preferred staying in Toga’s room if they had the day off, and he always slipped out when the morning frost dusted the grass, a soft bluish hue painting the streets before sunlight. 

But that’s not the problem. See, he was a core member inside the Mafia running the northern side of the city, ‘The League’ they like to call themselves. The only men above this guy was his boss Tomura, and the underboss Dabi. You don’t know the former, but you’ve spent time with the latter.

You’re aware of his sadistic nature that flashes behind those teal eyes, and he doesn’t try to  hide it, either. The sideway glances during a poker match before he fucked someone over , the smile he wore when you asked about the purple bruises on his knuckles. 

So fan-fucking-tastic, the broad has some nerve.

You curl your lip, already shrugging your shoulders from your coat. You toss it over the table and start rolling up your sleeves to the elbows.  

Toga finally turns towards you after catching movement by her side, brows raising confused, “What are you doing?”

“You’re gonna grab his feet and we’re gonna move him onto the rug in the hall.” 

You step in the blood, grabbing him by the rusty black colored jacket and dragging him from the puddle. Of course it leaves drag marks, your heels making tracks alongside, but you can deal with the clean up later. 

Toga hurries over to help, carrying him by the legs and letting you guide the body to the floral rug.

“You don’t want to know what happened?”

You stop. Immediately dropping the dead weight, his blond head lolls off to the side. Your palms sheen with red, but you straighten up and push a beach curl from your cheekbone with the back of your hand.

“Not really. All I want is this fucker out of my house.”

It’s her turn to stare at you incredulously. This is completely out of nowhere for you to be assisting in hiding a dead boyfriend, even if you two are roommates. You’ve only been living together for four months now.

“Toga, I need you to listen, okay?” you say, a bit mockingly, “I can look past the murdering business by pretending you acted in self defense, but if you don’t have the goddamn brains to realize this idiot has friends, then I suggest you don’t stab people!”

Toga flinches slightly at the lilted pitch in your voice, already suggesting panicky, “We can take him to the woods and hide him there?”

“That’ll work.” You don’t think Twice about it.  

Working together, you both hoist him a couple feet onto the rug, refusing to look at his face. You didn’t need to be feeling a pang of guilt. It doesn’t take long for you to roll him towards the front door, as the material wraps around his figure. 

The hardest part is retreating to the car. The moment you push through the door, you see the distance from where you stand and the car parked a little down the sloping street. You both give a hard look to the powdery snow dusting the ground, quiet and enchanting. It would be beautiful...had you not been carrying a corpse.

“Stop being a little bitch and heave!”

“I can’t! You’re making me hold all the weight!”

“He’s off the ground! How the fuck are you holding all the weight?”

“But my arms hurt!”

“Fucking hell, Toga. What if I had stayed at my sister’s tonight? What then?”

“Stop yelling at me! I get it, alright? I shouldn’t have done it in the house!” 

Your bickering toils through the winds, muffled by the falling snow. The burst of cold air is running through your buttoned blouse while crossing to the 1929 Chevrolet causing a shiver to roll down your back. When you reach the car Toga plops the rug down onto the snow first, then you. Your wet fingers feel numb against the metal handle. 

There’s one entrance on each side, which likely will make shimming the body to the backseat  much harder. You pause, looking at the front in thought. 

“I’ll go first,” you say, “when he’s in, you go and grab our coats.”

“Are we burying him?”

“Think the lake’s faster.”

“What if it’s icy? They’ll see the hole if we throw him in.”

You both ponder your options for a little while, this isn’t exactly something you’ve done before...You can’t say the same for Toga, but she seems just as puzzled, almost clueless on how to get rid of her ex. 

Meanwhile, the rolled corpse behind you starts to slip downhill, little by little. The slanting street gives speed and the rug starts to roll.. Red droplets trail behind in its wake. 

You just happen to see it first.

“Toga—Toga, the body! The body!” 

Toga cries out, taking off after the rug as best she can on a frozen sheet. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

The graceful snowfall flutters with pain and chaos.

Toga skids against the fresh ice, feet stumbling under her navy blue dress. She falls to the ground with a hard thud, and you see she isn’t stopping. She keeps going alongside the body, sliding until the two disappear under another parked car. 

You don’t have time to think, a chill strikes up your spine in your panic. 

“Toga!” you call out, taking off after her. Unfortunately you find yourself abruptly on your back, pounding hard on the stones and stealing the breath from your lungs. 

If you could sigh right now you would. Or rather, if you could punch Toga right now you would, as rage twists with a throbbing pain in your chest. Was all this worth having a mobster roommate? The odds were piling against her. You have a mind to push her in the lake when you get there.

Several silent minutes go by with you staring up at the cloudy sky. It’s brighter from the illuminating white snow, and despite the icy powder prickling your flesh, you have no choice but to wait for the ache in your chest to fade. 

“Enjoying the view?” 

You hear a new voice, male, and the suave tone tells you who it is before he treads near. He looks over you with half lidded eyes of honey gold. 

He’s very pretty. The drifting snow flakes above his wheat coloured head manage to enhance this, though the uplifted eyes lined in black, and nicely sharp features are the last thing you want to see. You’re nowhere near ready to start lying out of Toga’s mess. 

“That can’t be too comfy down there,” Keigo says, bending forward with an outstretched hand,“C’mon, upsy-daisy.” 

You take his hand, feeling another leather glove hold your waist and lift you onto your feet. When you settle, he starts brushing the caked snow off your back. Mobster or not, he’s at least a gentleman.

“You alright?” he asks, giving you a once over for any fresh scratches.

You give a slow nod, crossing your arms over your chest. Fear’s got the better of you, and you look anywhere but him., “What are you doing here? I thought you were working tonight.”

“Oh I am! You could say I’m on patrol, need to pick up a few things.” 

Your gaze stills to your left, heart skipping. Keigo’s not alone. Standing nearby, a slim figure dressed in black from head to toe is watching you two lazily. A thread of smoke seeps from his parted lips, clouding a handsome face and spikes of black hair. Keigo keeps talking, but you can’t take your eyes off the ghostly presence you know to be Dabi.

“Unfortunately that includes loverboy. He was supposed to be back hours ago, but we figured he’s still fooling around,” a little smirk tugs at his mouth, suggestively “He’s still inside, right?”

You blink, turning back to face Keigo, “I wouldn’t know, I just got home,” you lie. 

“Look at you! You look like you’re about to freeze to death.” He starts suddenly, swiftly slipping his arms out from his heavy coat, revealing a black three piece with pinstripes, and a brighter crimson tie. In one smooth motion he twirls the long, beige coat over your shoulders, letting it rest over your figure.

“Thank you,” you say, before your eyes catch something. 

Dabi moves towards the clumsy skid marks, head tilting down to the red dots in the snow near his polished shoe. You stiffen.

“You sure you’re okay?” 

Your gaze flashes from Dabi’s retreating back to a politely smiling Keigo, “Yeah, I’m fine! I’m really cold is all.”

“Well, we should get you inside. You know you left your door wide open?” Shit, the door. You forgot about the stupid door—

(Dabi looms across the indents in the snow and follows down the hill like a dark shadow against crystals illuminating bright.)

“Ah yeah, I thought I left my purse in the car. It was just for a second, and then I slipped,” You force a smile. Relax. You need to relax. Keigo doesn’t seem convinced, reading something off in your features.

“Is that right?”

(He gets the edge of the old Ford, and notes the specks of red soak wider here. The spots lead underneath.) 

“I know, it’s pretty foolish. It’s um...It’s a good thing you showed up when you did, or...”

Your eyes drift over Keigo’s shoulder. The underboss starts to crouch low. Your pupils shrink, a new wave of panic tingles the back of your neck. Damn him, why was he so clever? 

“Dabi, wait!” you shout, pushing past Keigo’s shoulder. In your hurry you kick up the snowy crystals, rushing to the taller mobster in his long obsidian coat. Dabi quickly turns, standing up.tall before you hook onto his upper arm like a lover. “I saw an animal go under there that looked hurt. You shouldn’t mess with it.”

A smirk that breaks into a grin spreads on his face, a look of amusement blooming from your look of fright. You want to glare at him, though that could be dangerous. Why does he like seeing you scared?

 “An animal, you say?” he parrots back, adopting the same mocking pitch you gave Toga earlier. He’s not in the least bit on edge, and you really don’t like that. He flicks his teal eyes up to look behind you just then, “Good thing I have the city’s best exterminator right here.”

As if on cue, you hear the crunching boots of Keigo walking to the car. “Give me a break with the dirty work, will ya?”

“What, scared of a little pest?” Dabi taunts back coolly.

 “I’m not too fond of getting my knees wet, actually,” Keigo returns quite dryly, sharp eyes studying the long pattern marks. He places his gloved hands on his thighs and drops himself to a crouch in front of the vehicle.

You desperately hope Toga proves you wrong. Maybe she had the common sense to bail while no one was looking. It’s all you can do at this point, while Keigo dips his head underneath. You don’t realize, but your grip on Dabi’s arm presses tighter into the wool.

Keigo inspects below for a moment. There’s a long pause like a winter evening should be. Silent. Calming. You can almost believe in the soothing little lie. Then Keigo coughs a laugh  that echoes through the street. Bursts of manic giggles grow louder from the mobster, leaving you tilting your head at his pushed back hair, confused.

“There’s a pest, alright! I think I caught something—“

Keigo reaches under, and with an impressively strong yank, Toga’s head pops out in a doe eyed stare. Her arms are wrapped around a bundled rug with a fairly familiar head sticking out. 

“Hey there, Toga!” Keigo exclaims, “When did you become a rat?”

 Dabi tips his head down, drawing the lit cigarette back to his lazy smile. He’s shockingly calm which does nothing to ease your shivering panic. Toga however, seems fine. In fact, she’s moved on to livelier feelings.

“Hey! Does it look like a rat could’ve done this?!” she snaps, shaking the body in her arms. It bangs against the bottom of the car sending loud echoes through the nearly empty street. Specks of blood dribble on the white ground, and a couple more drops spray her cheeks.

You stare up at the clouds, rolling your eyes. Goddamnit Toga.

“Yeah, I guess a rat can’t hold a knife, huh? Ya got me there.” Keigo turns and beams you a smug look, eyes half lidded in an expression that reads, nice try, but you failed.

You scrunch your nose, quietly shooting him back a glare. Asshole might’ve caught you both red handed, but he didn’t have to be so fucking cocky about it. It’s only charming when he has a winning hand at cards. Beside you, Dabi’s shoulders shake with silent laughter, though you don’t have the guts to flash him the same glower. He is second in command after all.   

“Yeah, see? That’s what I thought!” Toga says in victory.

You blink very, very slowly at Toga when she finally meets your vastly unamused gaze,“...Nice work, Toga.” 

It comes suddenly. A fiery warmth ghosts the dip in your waist as Dabi leans in. It’s not unwelcomed, raw and soothing even, but it hardly lasts. His hand curls around Keigo’s coat collar and pulls it off your shoulders. The crisp wind rushes to your exposed arms.

“You got any rat poison on you, Hawks?” Dabi tosses the coat to Keigo. 

He catches it mid air as he rises to stand. “Nah, fresh out. But we have some back at the house.” 

“You want to take care of our rat problem then?”

“Can do, boss man.”

Before you can figure out what they mean–what they have planned for Toga–Dabi’s pristine leather glove presses at the small of your back and directs you toward the pouring light of the open door. “Don’t wait up.”

It’s barely there, but as you shift your eyes to Keigo, his features take on a darkened look toward Dabi.

“Play nice, now,” you hear Keigo say. This time though, the joyous tone is gone. 

A new song hums on the radio when you’re pushed through the threshold, you listen to the richly solemn blues as Dabi closes the door. He turns the lock with a click and pockets the key.

“I forgive you 

'Cause I can't forget you.

You've got me in between the devil and the deep blue sea”

He doesn’t give you a passing glance, instead he turns and strolls down the freshly bare hall. He hasn’t removed his coat, and each room he passes he tilts his head in to search for something, stopping by the parlor. With a twist of a knob, he shuts off the radio.

“Where’d she ice him?” he asks, still not looking at you by the stairwell. 

“In the kitchen.” You return. No point in hiding it now. 

His steps creak the wood as he ambles further down, knowing full well where to go. He’s been here a handful of times; of course, those were happier evenings filled with drunken laughs.

You watch him stand by the doorway, staring at the vibrant mess of a crime scene. He pops the tip of his cigarette in his mouth before slipping from your line of sight. Dabi’s got the key to the door, so it’s not like you can run away—especially with Keigo just outside. It’s too risky to try and you know it, but it does cross your mind. 

Summing up the courage, you decide to follow Dabi with measured steps, “What are you going to do with Toga?” 

When you face the kitchen, Dabi’s near the table where you threw your coat. He has a hand in one of your pockets, and he’s fishing for something inside. It jingles in his grip as he stuffs it into his own pocket. Your car keys. 

“Are you going to kill her?” you try again, a little irked he’s swiping your things left and right. He doesn’t release your coat either, laying it over the crook of his elbow.  

He draws a final inhale from the dying bud, and crosses to the sink to snuff it out. An exhale of smoke blows out from his lips, “Killing her seems like a favor, don’t you think?”

“I thought it was the other way around.”

He turns, flicking teal eyes sheening with energy at you, “That lunatic’s no longer your concern. Right now, you ought to be more worried about yourself.”

Your features go taut, which in turn makes Dabi’s sadistic smirk return.

 “I didn’t help her kill him.”

“No,” he agrees, taking a few strides around the blood to approach you,“but you were willing to stash the stiff.”

“Yeah, for this very reason. I didn’t want you coming after me!”

Dabi draws dangerously close, mere inches apart as he glances down with lidded eyes, the smell of tobacco perfumes from his shirt collar nestled under a violet tie. He crooks his index finger, embellished with a silver ring, ghosting it under your chin. “How’d that turn out for you, babydoll?”

With a ruthless smile, he breaks the fixed stare and rounds you to the hallway. He seems to be making his way towards the parlor again, but the swish of your peacoat in his arm, set you off.

How dare he? You don’t like how he’s walked inside, claiming what’s yours. You might have your life screwed over, but at the very least you want your coat back as some semblance of control.

You stalk after him, picking up pace to aim for his arm. The clacks of your heels are loud, but you currently couldn’t care less about being sneaky, “Give it fucking back. You’re not keeping that!”

You lunge for the black wool, but as your fingers brush the material on his left elbow, Dabi whips the coat, rotating arms. You’re not fast enough, but you try a second reach for his right arm, huffing out a growl at his stealthy reflexes.

“Dabi, I’m serious! You’re such a—”

In a twirling motion his newly free palm shoves at your shoulder, pinning you against the stairwell’s wall. He’s close, so close, the blue flames in his eyes are absurdly intense. 

“That makes two of us. You’ll get this back when I say so.” 

His voice is low, soft lips almost connecting to yours. You tilt your chin up, glaring at him with fearful, tentative eyes. His gaze flashes with mirth, and he huffs a small laugh at you.

“I’ve always liked this about you. That spark inside you.” He muses. The peacoat spills to the floor. Dabi lifts his slender fingers, pushing back a loose curl from your cheek. 

Your stomach flips, as shocks tickle your skin. There’s been subtle flirting between you two before. You just wrote it off as overthinking the moment. Even though he only called you, babydoll, and he sat next to you at gatherings. How he filled your glass with water instead of booze as the nights waned. Now, you feel foolish for denying the little signs. 

“You have a horrible way of showing girls you like ‘em,” you counter back, your voice’s quiet but leveled. 

“Yeah?” he asks. The arm holding your shoulder tightens, while the other lowers to collect your long skirt. He traces his knuckles on the soft flesh of your thigh. As his hand trails up, his eyes remain fixed on your facial features. “Maybe this will help.”

His slim fingers reach the cotton slip, and it’s easy to pull off to the side, exposing the lips of your warmth. He tests the waters, sweeping the tips of his fingers across your folds. Your mouth parts in a breathless hitch in your throat. Dabi parts his own lips drawing near, ‘til his lips touch yours but not quite pressing together yet. His pierced nose bumps yours.

“Now here’s what’s going to happen,” he starts, just before sinking two fingers between your folds, pumping deep and slow inside. “You’ll go upstairs and pack what you need. When you come down—”

He thrusts particularly hard into you, sending a gasping moan to fall from your open mouth. His voice remains calm, a hint of glee can be detected. Fucking bastard.

“—You’ll be leaving with me. You’ll work for me...Live with me…And you’ll do everything I say. You got it, babydoll?”

He adds a third finger, soaking his knuckles deep with your slick. He’s hitting the right spots, the perfectly deep pressure. Your attention turns hazy as wakes of pleasure tighten just below your stomach. Your hips buck against his thrusting hand, yet still, you manage to nod your head. 

Moans flutter from your lips and vibrate onto his smiling one. To heighten the pleasure he begins swirling your wet clit. “Ah, Dabi...Oh god, Dabi—”

He slows his fingers suddenly, which makes you cry out. He pretends to ignore it. “If you try to escape me...I will hunt you down and hurt you in ways that will marr that pretty skin of yours. I’ll make you scream so loud, and no one will be there to save you. Tell me you understand.”

He curls his knuckles, pressing into a rough spot at the top, pumping fiercely against your slippery, muscular walls. You cry out, squeezing at his shirt collar and coat. “Fuck—I understand, I understand! Baby, right there, ah!”

Dabi gives you no mercy. He tugs and twirls the bud of sensitive nerves, swirling with driven circles that clench your walls in wonderous pressure. You’re close, he’s so close to sending you in high bliss. Your moans get heavier, and your clenching more and more and—

He removes his fingers. Another cry of protest sobs from your mouth only to be swallowed by Dabi’s lips on yours. His tongue massages the moans from your breath, his scent of cigarettes and smoke immerse your senses as you drown in the kiss.

He slowly breaks apart with a wet sound, looking deeply in your lust-glossed eyes. His voice is low and arousingly husky. “Now get your things.”

Before you know it, Dabi pulls away from your shoulders, and turns for the parlor. You try catching your breath, watching his slim, muscular back...Did that happen? Did he rob you of everything? Your home, your life, your orgasm?

Eventually, with light steps you do as you’re told, and turn to climb up the stairs. What choice do you have? He has your life in the palm of his hand. And right before you make it to the top, your hand drawn on the railing, the spinning clicks of your house phone perk your ear.  

A long pause. Then finally, Dabi’s rich voice speaks up from the parlor,

“Hey, I’ll be needing a few guys at Togas...Yeah, we found him….Toga did him in pretty good...No, we’ll need the good bleach for cleanup.”

***

P.S, this might be a mini series 👀

[urfictional]

𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 – 𝐤𝐚𝐳 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐤𝐤𝐞𝐫

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

summary: there's a new face in ketterdam and kaz will be forced to strike a deal with the devil in order to get what he desires

warnings: blood, blood, and again blood, mentions of torturing, did I mention blood? my bad writing

A/N: I'd like to say that this is my first time writing a fic but then I would be kind of lying because a while ago I started to write a Kaz Brekker fanfiction on Wattpad. BUT. this is my first time writing a short fic, so we'll see how it goes.

also, English is not my first language so bear with the mistakes (I'm sure that there are some)

It’s hard to earn a name for yourself in the Barrel. You essentially start from nothing and then slowly brick by brick you start to grow your empire. You spill sweat and blood to achieve the goal and from then it only takes so little to remain at the top. It’s simple. One just needs to show the power that they hold. And Y/N has power.

Kaz Brekker was wondering. Standing in a dark room with fancy furniture, his Crows, Inej and Jesper, behind him. He was wondering from where she came from. The girl, approximately his age. Just a few months ago, the Barrel practically swarmed with rumors about a girl that Ketterdam hadn’t seen yet. No one knows from where she came from, or who she is. If Kaz has to think, he even doesn’t know her name.

She has many names but none of them is her real one. At least Kaz thinks that the girl that is sitting in front of him couldn’t possibly be called the Executioner. On the other hand, who knows this is the Barrel. A perfect place for weird people.

“You surprise me Kaz Brekker.” Even her voice sounded mysterious. It was confident, powerful and Kaz caught himself thinking that he could listen to her voice till death finally takes him. “You came to my house, walk through my corridors and now your dirty boots are staining my Persian rug and the only thing that you tell me is that you want to strike a deal that would make us acquaintances.”

Kaz didn’t utter a word. He watched the girl and the girl watched him. Her feet were resting on her desk and she comfortably leaned into the chair. She smirked.

While the Y/H/C haired girl was staring at Kaz, Jesper let his eyes closely inspect the girl. In a weird way, she reminded him of Kaz. Perfectly tailored clothes, black dress shirt, and grey west. Dress pants and heeled boots on her feet that laid crossed at her ankles on the desk’s surface. Her Y/H/C hair made into a tight knot at the back of her head. The only thing missing was leather gloves and cane.

“People who hold power in the Barrel should have acquaintances who do the same.” Kaz would be lying if he said that he wasn’t nervous about this meeting. He has heard stories about this girl, stories that possibly are nasty rumors, yet you never know. This is the Barrel after all.

She let out an amused laugh.

“And you count yourself as one?” She raised her eyebrows, an amused smile present on her face. “An acquaintance who holds power in the Barrel?” Y/N waited for Kaz to say something, to defend his honor yet he stayed quiet. She smirked while standing up. “Congratulations, you just passed the first test.”

Y/N needed to know if Kaz Brekker really is the Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel. She won’t let the boy know all her secrets and ways how she works if he isn’t half of what Ketterdam claims him to be.

“Though I have to ask.” She stopped millimeters away from him. Y/N could feel the ragged breath of his that made her furrow her eyebrows and tilt her head a little. She looked into his eyes and stepped one step away from him. “If you claim that people who hold power in the Barrel need to, say, familiarize with others. What about Pekka Rollins? Hmm?” She watched how Kaz visibly stiffened upon that name. She smirked. Y/N got what she wanted. “I hope you will pass the next test, for I would be glad to make you an acquaintance.” With that Y/N walked past the trio towards the door. “Follow me.”

From outside, the building seemed to look like any other building on this street. Yet when the group made the turns for what seemed like a thousand times, they realized that the exterior is just an illusion. The Crows followed the girl down the steps and judging by the fact that there were no windows, and the air was a tad humid, they were in a basement.

They walked down a corridor. Kaz noted that there were doors every few meters on the left side. It looked awfully like a prison down here. Y/N walked past one door but then stopped causing the group to halt. She walked back towards the doors she just passed and opened the latch in the door. A small window with bars allowed to see inside the room yet the group couldn’t see anything from the position where they were standing.

They could hear a chain rattling and groaning which forced Kaz to think that there was someone in there.

“Well, have you changed your mind?” Her tone was demanding. Kaz observed her side profile. Sharp eyes and clenched jaw, he wondered if this is how he looked when he demanded something and didn’t accept no for an answer. The group heard more chain rattling and louder groan that sounded awfully like no with a couple of colorful words that were no doubt directed towards the girl. Y/N smirked. “As you wish.”

She went to close the latch when she glanced at the group on her left. Then without closing it moved forward along the corridor. Y/N purposely left the window open, she wanted Kaz to see with what kind of devil he is making the deal.

While walking past the doors Kaz glanced inside and visibly gulped. A man in his late thirties was hanging by his hands from the ceiling, his feet barely touching the ground. He was bleeding from, well, everywhere, and by the looks of it, he has been here for a long time. He was barely alive, and it seemed hasn’t eaten for weeks. Kaz wondered if behind all those doors were hanging men or even women.

“Do they even get food or water?” Inej was troubled by the scene that she saw behind the doors and couldn’t help but to be a tad concerned.

Y/N glanced behind her before turning to face the front again.

“When I remember, they do.” She nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders. They turned a corner and continued to walk along another hallway. The girl turned to throw a smirk towards the Suli girl. “I am a tad forgetful; you know. Can’t always remember all those poor souls that need feeding.”

So, then there were more people down here. Kaz suddenly wondered how many of them were still alive and how many were just hanging dead.

The group reached the end of the corridor. They were met with a man who was undoubtedly guarding the doors. With one nod from the girl in front of them, the guard opened the doors and let them inside.

This room was bigger than the previous cell that they saw. The walls were lined with cabinets that contained things, starting from various kinds of weapons to bottles of different sizes and colorful liquids.

“How’s our guest feeling today?” The Crows turned to where Y/N was standing in front of a man who, much like the previous prisoner, was hanged by his hands from the ceiling. The only difference was that there were also chains on his feet and he was hovering above the ground. Kaz observed the room and noticed three men standing on the sides. More guards. “Did the acid did its work?”

The Y/H/C-haired girl walked towards the table on her left. She was slowly unrolling the sleeves of her shirt up to her elbows. After she was done Y/N picked up a bottle inspecting it.

“The man at the market said that it's pretty effective.” Only now Kaz noticed the burn marks on the prisoner’s body. One of the guards stepped forward.

“He didn’t utter a word.”

Y/N tsked while shaking her head in disappointment. She then turned to the hanging man.

“This is not how we work, darling, you know that.” The mock concern in the girl’s voice caused Kaz to shiver slightly. “Such a pretty face ruined for nothing. I can give you one more chance.”

The prisoner raised his head and looked at the girl in front of him. Y/N could easily live without the information that this man could give her but then it wouldn’t be interesting anymore. Any kind of information even the smallest one about the people of Ketterdam could turn out to be useful. You just need to find the right way, the right place and time.

“I am bound by an oath, I won’t tell you anything. Even if I’ll have-”

“-have to die, yeah, yeah don’t I know it.” Y/n interrupted the man by rolling her eyes. “You’re pathetic.”

The Crows braced themselves after what came next. The hanging man mustered all the strength that was in him and spit the blood that was in his mouth right into her face. The guards launched forwards, but Y/N raised her hand halting them in their steps.

Kaz watched how the girl was trying to calm her breathing the muscles of her back stiffened. He admired the control that this girl possessed. Not many people that Kaz knew would have such a perfect grip of themselves. Hell, even Kaz himself sometimes dropped the controlled behavior behind and acted a little reckless.

Y/N slowly turned around and the group of three could see the specks of blood on her face mixed with spit.

“Alright, if this is how you want to play. Let’s play.” She pulled out a cloth from her vest pocket and walked to her left where a small mirror was hanged on the wall.

When she was done cleaning her face, she walked back to stand in front of the prisoner. One of the guards walked beside her and handed something that reminded Kaz of a sheathed sword. Y/n took the handle and pulled out a long shiny sword. It was very long, it even was longer than Jesper’s arm. It looked heavy but she held it like it was light as a feather.

“I have always admired the old weapons.” She turned to face the Crows. “All those revolvers, pistols, and bombs, they are boring.” The girl extended her arm and pointed her sword at Kaz while smirking. “There is something about swords and weapons that have sharp and pointy things that excite me.” She glanced at the Suli girl on Kaz’s right. “Wouldn’t you agree with me?”

Inej couldn’t get anything past her lips, so she opted with just a nod.

Y/N lowered the sword and Kaz dared to breathe again. He didn’t even notice that he was holding his breath.

“There is nothing more exciting than feeling the sword digging in the flesh. Feeling the muscles breaking when you turn the sword-” She suddenly looked up at the group and offered a half-embarrassed smile. “Sorry.”

Then the smile disappeared, and she turned to walk closer to the hanged man.

“Let’s play a game. Heads or tails, Kaz Brekker?” Kaz looked up startled and watched how the girl turned to face him, any sign of the embarrassed smile long gone. Two steely eyes were staring into his soul waiting for his answer. “Heads or tails?”

“Tails.”

Kaz knew that it was something to do with the way how the girl is going to kill the man. There was no point in trying to get away from that. The man is going to die anyway. With or without Kaz’s answer.

“Tails.” She smirked while turning to the hanged man. “This is your lucky day. You’ll be able to see me perfectly in the last seconds of your life.” Then she turned to face the Crows once more. “I have many names, yet only one of them is true. I am an Executioner.”

Kaz watched how she turned her head and raised her sword. With one swing sideways, the sword cut through the hanged man detaching the top half from the bottom separating him just above the waist. Kaz could hear Jesper cursing from his left and Inej taking in a sharp breath from his right. But Kaz did not let his eyes wander from the girl whose arm was still extended with the sword. The blood dripping from the weapon and the top half of the dead man.

“This part is my favorite.” Y/N lowered the sword and grasped the hilt in both hands, she supported the tip of the sword against the ground like a cane. Now the only thing missing is leather gloves. Jesper thought while watching the girl who yet again looked exactly like Kaz. “His brain hasn’t fully comprehended the pain and the fact that half of him is missing. Last seconds before he dies, he sees my face and wishes he had done otherwise.” Kaz couldn’t see her face, but he imagined a contented smile resting on her face. “The silent art. What could be more beautiful than this?”

Y/N turned around to face the Crows. One of the guards walked closer with the empty sheath. She cleaned the sword before taking the sheath and putting the sword in it. With the sheathed weapon in one hand, Y/N walked closer to the group of three. She stopped before Kaz and squinted her eyes while inspecting him. Satisfied with whatever she saw, the girl smirked.

“Congratulations. You managed to keep everything inside. So did your friends.” She looked from Inej to Jesper then back at Kaz with a cheeky smile. “Some people have the need to display their previous meals. I’m not a fan of those people.” She then pointed at the guards behind her. “Nor are they. Because, well, they are the ones that are cleaning everything.”

Kaz forced himself to not look at the hanging body behind the girl, not a second longer, otherwise, he too will have the need to display the meal he had earlier this day. He was surprised how Jesper managed to hold himself together. Kaz took a mental note to ask him that after they will be done here.

Soon they left the basement and followed the girl back upstairs. They arrived in the room they previously were in. Y/N walked to the cabinet on the left and placed the sheathed sword on a stand. Then she walked to the front of the desk and her hands crossed on her chest leaned against it.

“Well? You still want to make the deal?”

Kaz knew that there is a possibility that he will regret the decision but there was one thing that forced him to not think about this possibility. There was a reason she mentioned Pekka Rollins. And that reason was simple, she wanted him gone just as much as he. If that wouldn’t be the case, she wouldn’t have bothered with all this play. Therefore, Kaz firmly nodded his head forcing a smirk to appear on the girl’s face.

She stood straight and extended her hand, waiting for Kaz to shake it.

For a moment he hesitated, but then slowly extended his hand and felt her fingers wrap around his leather-clad hand.

And so, the devil made deal with the devil.

A/N: aight let me know what you think. ;))

[nameless-shrimp]

A WARM SUNSET || OSAMU DAZAI (TITANIC! AU)

PAIRING: (Titantic! AU) Osamu Dazai x F! Reader (she/her)

TYPE: story (at this point, this is just a long fic)

WORD COUNT: 8.8k

WARNINGS: implied NSFW, hopelessness, strong descriptions of the Titantic incident, blood, drowning, depression, Dazai's suicidal attempts/thoughts, extreme fluff and angst, bittersweet ending, heavy grammar errors

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i take a break for the day and log out, and then my mind instantly retorts to me wanting to write again and WOW, the power i felt when writing this, woo! we love that energy, but i actually teared up writing this, lol. this was an emotional rollercoaster, thanks to @bsdparadise and @pompompurin1028 for brainrotting with me on this <3 i also want to note that this was heavily inspired by the titanic movie, and this may or not may not be historically accurate. this is solely the purpose of fanfiction writing.

Something about the mischievous personality that he bestowed caused the others around him to slam their cards down with irritated looks on their faces. Though Dazai only smirked, twirling the royal flush in his hands as he threw them down to the table, obviously pulling a rare chance to win at the game of poker. And that was when he snatched the ticket out of the gambler’s hands, demanding a rematch though Dazai had already bolted out of his seat at that point.

Fiddling the dead cigarette between his teeth, Dazai waved at the groaning men at the table.

“I won—fair and square! Now I get to board the ship!”

That cocky bastard. He knew himself all too well, with the giddy smile on his lips while he dashed past the strangers that were walking down the street while nearly tumbling through his skips. Mocha colored hair swaying against the breeze. The grin never escaped the excited expression. Finally. He’d get his final wish sooner or later.

Quickly, he ran to the docks, brushing past the people that were waving their farewells and confetti danced along the air. A bright sunny day, where the heat beneath the clouds was starting to get through the heavy layers of Dazai’s bandages—not that he wasn’t used to this, though—and darting past the crowd, he laughed boisterously.

A joyous sight to see; his hands gripping on the rails of the ship as his feet stumbled onboard. It was way larger than he expected and he waved to the crowd on the docks. Plastic smiles on their faces—Dazai was well aware of the jealous aura amongst the strangers, knowing that even someone like him was able to land foot on the world’s unsinkable ship.

Dazai would get what he wanted soon.

Turning around, the captain had gathered most of those aboard to announce the luxury of free meals and alcohol for those that made it to ride the Titanic. Rich people, of course. Cheers were rapidly heard as the siren of the boat roared. Dazai’s smile lingered along his lips, closing his eyes to a soft flutter; a peaceful breeze tucked right into his tan coat as he spat out the dead cigarette to have it land in a nearby garbage can.

“Free dinner and booze doesn’t sound so bad.”

And the night followed. Constellations decorated the midnight hues while Dazai squeezed himself along the crowd of others. A family clapping to the piano music in the background with a gentle beat. Couples kissed one another, opening crystal champagne as the chandeliers glistened from up above. Even mere strangers shared a drink and a bite of the steak together while gossiping about their egotistical personalities, even from at the end of a random table, Dazai was able to grasp the fact that everyone was on the royal throne knowing that they had won a trip to the one and only ship.

At first, the Titanic was meant to be for those in higher class, clearly above those that were poor and living amongst the streets. And—poor Dazai, really, because he was stuck in his own mind whenever he found himself jumping from store to store, stealing a piece of bread to feed the orphans that laid themselves to rest on concrete. Surely, Dazai was capable of something better—he knew he was able to land himself somewhere in life, but when did all of that matter, anyway?

Because the man was suicidal. Dazai looked at his filled glass of wine. Plum colored waves within the clean glass. He swirled it around, turning to his side to eye the strangers aboard the massive dining hall. Everyone was in their own subtle crowd. His presence was a ghost; hidden beneath the sparkling yellow lights. He was noticeable in the illumination, yet concealed from the world around him—as he always was.

There was no one he could raise a glass for close to him. That’s how it had always been for Dazai as he chuckled to himself, fully kept in that depressed state as he usually would fall into. Swirling the glass in his hands, he chugged the drink down. Not wasting a minute of that bittersweet taste to linger deep within his throat.

Standing up, he tucked a strand of his tousled hair behind his ear and made his way outside of the dining hall. What was deemed to be a bright setting has now transitioned into an unlighted sky despite the stars that kissed along the stars. Moonlight touched his skin. An exhausted sigh tumbled out from his lips.

Making his way to the end of the ship where the only audible noise were the birds that flew above him and his quiet footsteps. Chitter chatter of the crowd had died down. Dazai closed his eyes, hands in his coat pocket as he felt himself start to grow into ease. The night was supposed to be a frightening thought for others; lost in the space of darkness, but with no light in his heart, Dazai found the feelings pleasurable.

An empty world that he was in as he rested his stomach against the railing, staring down at the waves bursting from the heavy ship that was in movement. The water below had never looked so peaceful to him. And his golden irises had faded into a dull illumination. Pondering thoughts about his existence having no purpose was twirling around his mind—which was true, because at what point would Dazai have served a purpose in the act of living?

Gripping on the railing, he threw his legs over and then tightened his grasp on the metal. Sighing to himself, he hummed a soft apology. His death wasn’t going to be heard amongst the world. The unsinkable ship of the Titanic was going to make the front page. As if his life was going to spread around the town. And with one step of his foot, he threw his head back as soft breaths fanned out his lips.

If he had left now, not one person on the ship would’ve recognized his presence. To Dazai, that was peaceful. He wouldn’t have been hurting anyone or ripping their hearts from his death. A speck of dust unknown to one’s eye—floating amongst the air.

Dazai didn’t understand happiness nor did he understand unhappiness. All he was aware of was that everything was going to pass at some point, such as his act of breathing.

“Stop!”

His eyes bolted open. ‘Why is there someone near me?’ He thought to himself, completely baffled before a grip on his hands allowed Dazai’s body to fling back over the railing. His body was sprung over, landing on the floor as he let out an irritated groan.

“Aaaand of course, I had to be inter—”

“Well, of course, you were trying to kill yourself!”

Dazai looked up, meeting your eyes dart into a glare at him. He looked down, watching your hands grip on his trench coat tighter before you sighed deeply. He raised an eyebrow at this. “Why did you stop me?” Dazai asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

You frowned at him. “Because you shouldn’t kill yourself!”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know you but—” you stood up, wiping the wrinkles off your dress. A sigh left your mouth. “Don’t kill yourself. Just don’t do it.”

“Oh?” He turned his head; that cocky side of him was slowly peeking out. “Enlighten me on this purpose of existing, then. I’d love to hear what you have to say about that.”

“Hey, don’t act so arrogant with me,” you retorted with a shake of your head. “I saved your life so you don’t have to act like that towards me.”

“I don’t think you quite get it, do you?”

“Get what exactly?”

Groaning, Dazai placed his fingers on his head. “My goal is to complete a clean and beautiful suicide aaaand you basically just ruined it for me. Congratulations.”

You huffed in response. “Well, your dream is not gonna come true when I’m around.”

And you kept your word on that. Because all it took was for you to shake your head in disbelief once more as a smile grew on your lips, explaining that you didn’t want to see someone risk their life to an unfortunate demise on purpose. Dazai didn’t know you nor did he have recognition of you from stepping foot on the boat, but when you kept your grip on his arm for a good moment, he felt his breath hitch.

He wasn’t sure if it was the grin that you had, joking about how suffocation underneath the cold sea water would’ve been extremely painful—tongue clicking beneath the teeth and crinkles forming near your eyes—but Dazai could only let his eyes widen.

He placed a hand on yours, causing you to look at him with a confused stare. Dazai parted his lips, keeping his touch on yours. He had only met you, yet your skin was warm; a soothing temperature for a chilly night out at sea.

“What is your name?” He asked, curiosity dwelling in his honeyed eyes.

“Y/N,” you said.

“I’d like to see you again.”

Dazai did exactly that.

The next morning, he rushed his way to your cabin and invited you to go out for breakfast with him in the dining hall. When you agreed, his heart continued to pick up its pace. Nothing like the color yellows and whites of the sunny-side up eggs could’ve ever lightened up his mood with a glass of juice pressed against your lips. While the other strangers onboard were so ecstatic about their greed, you continued to spend your time with him.

Usually, Dazai thought about the idea of being a social outcast. One that was far away from the crowds—the type to stand out because he had nobody in his life. Yet despite the lonely one from afar, he remained to still be unnoticed despite his presence underneath the faint lights. Though you continued to spend your morning with him, discussing your future goals as you sprinkled pepper on your eggs. Not minding that you had rescued him from his suicide attempt the other night; an excited feeling he felt, realizing that someone was acknowledging his presence for once.

After breakfast, you both decided to walk out around the higher floor of the ship, laughing at the sophisticated people that were dressed in fancy attire yet you both were in regular commoner clothing. Part of his heart flourished into a rose; petals blooming underneath the sunlight that was pressed against the delicate clouds.

“Dazai,” you spoke softly, where you both rested on a bench. “Please don’t kill yourself again.”

He blinked before sighing. “I can’t promise that, my belladonna.”

“What did you call me?”

Turning away quickly, he sighed. He wasn’t usually nervous. “Nothing, Y/N.”

You chuckled. “You’re an odd man, Dazai. I admire that about you.”

Dazai turned to face you, now resting his arm on the bench while he rested the side of his head against his palm. Smiling in adoration, he ignored his fluttering heart and inhaled a breath. “I admire you for rescuing a random stranger from committing suicide,” he said and you laughed in amusement. Cute. “Say, how you would react if I ask you to commit a double suicide with me?”

A frown was now drawn on your face. “Absolutely not. God, you’re something else.”

“Hmm?” He rolled his eyes and playfully let out a sigh. “Damn. What a shaaame. I could’ve gotten to have a wonderful double suicide with a beautiful woman but nooo—”

“Beautiful, huh?” You interrupted him.

Dazai wasn’t aware of the words tumbling out of his mouth. Instead, he kept his lips parted before he burst out in a joyous laughter; voice tickling his lips as it rang your ears. Never did you realize that this suicidal man with a weird personality could sound so heavenly. “Of course, my belladonna!” He cheered, waving a hand. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

You turned away, hiding your flustered face. “Oh really?”

“Did I stutter, my dear?”

You smiled away from him. “No, you didn’t.”

Every so often, Dazai found himself making his way to your cabin. The brush of suicidal thoughts slowly swept past his mind every time he continued to walk towards your door. Of course, without hesitation, you started to grow fond of his character and allowed yourself to spend time with him. And at some moments, you’d put a puzzle together in your room.

(“That piece doesn’t really belong there, does it?” He’d ask and you’d shrug.

“Oh waaaait, it does!” He would respond soon after.

And you’d laugh. As you always did around him.)

Or play a childish game of tag around the boat. Not minding that the richer strangers were eyeing you both.

(“You’re running too fast!” You’d whine.

“You’re just too slow!” He’d respond.)

For a week straight after you became his savior, he’d ask for you to join him for dinner in the dining hall. Hearing your hiccups after you drink a glass of champagne was enough to cause a blush to flutter along his cheeks. Chin rested on the palm of his hand as his eyes trailed around your figure. He didn’t realize how attractive you really were—his thoughts darted into an immediate thought of wanting to stroke his fingers along your slightly exposed skin, but he cleared his throat and turned away.

He watched the sun die down from its orange horizon. An idea clicked in his head and Dazai smirked to himself. Such a romantic man he was, and immediately, he grabbed ahold of your hand and then pulled you away from the table, ignoring your protests that you were still finishing your meal but he didn’t care for that at the moment.

Quickly dashing out of the dining hall, Dazai ran to the end of the boat, where he had tried to attempt suicide before your rescue came into play, and you chuckled behind him. Pleading that you were still hungry, Dazai could only laugh in response to that.

Following him, you reached the end of the boat, where the only figures that were panting out of exhaustion were the both of you.

“Hey…” you heaved out breaths. “Why… why did you have to—”

“Look at that,” Dazai grinned.

He pointed at the sunset in front of him. Soft shades of orange mixing with yellow hues, diving into a translucent sleep. Dazai could practically taste the sunset as he bit his bottom lip in awe before turning to you; eyes fixated at the view. Dashes of periwinkle pecking his cheeks, pillar of his neck noticeable from the brightness of the sun, and his heart began to tumble into the clement peace of spring.

“It’s beautiful,” you noted. “Someday, I’d like to travel the world by sea.”

“Would you like to travel with me?” Dazai asked, not thinking before he spoke.

“Let’s get to know each other for a little bit longer before I can decide on that,” you chuckled as he nodded.

“Fair enough, belladonna.”

“The view is stunning.”

He smiled while placing his palms on your waist, causing you to gasp from his touch. “I know it is,” he murmured, close to the shell of your ear. Clear indication that he was talking about the way you looked rather than the sunset itself.

Slowly, he pushed you closer to the edge of the boat. Part of you wanted to comment on this, though you retorted to soft giggles leaving your lips. You had only met him a week ago and the way he caressed your shoulders and waist in the purist manner caused you to feel safe from his touch. Dazai smiled to himself, continuing to push you further to the end before he—finally—threw his arms around your waist.

“Look at you!” He exclaimed, watching your grin grow on your flushed face. The wind wasn’t so rough—it was just perfect enough to tickle his cheeks as his disheveled hair flew back tenderly. “You’re on top of the world!”

“I aaam!” You laughed in excitement, feeling his grip on you tighten while you throw your arms out.

Facing the sunset in front of you with Dazai’s arms protectively holding you tight. His chuckles had a dainty touch to the emotional setting. With your grin painted on your giddy expression, it was enough to have his heart slowly dive into an autumn breeze due to the sea wind—a careful caress to his skin. Flowers still bloomed within his heart; a garden that had a never-ending growth.

It wasn’t long until Dazai had to realize he was falling in love with you. Part of him mentally slapped himself for finding attraction to someone after only meeting them for a week. At least—with your presence around—he wasn’t a complete social outcast anymore. Despite his mischievous sins, you only saw him as a man with a broken record, in hopes of finding a way to allow music to be heard beautifully again.

When the night crept upon the both of you, Dazai wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol that was messing with his mind but he allowed himself to indulge in you anyway. For one night, even so—and with the way your hips moved along with his as he’d consistently bit your shoulder, allowing himself to feel you when the lights had turned off, it was a euphoric feeling.

Red-stained kisses along his collarbone. Dazai didn’t mind it. Only he minded that the blankets were covering your gorgeous body and he wanted to nibble at the skin exposed to him. You let him. Hands thrown in his hair as subtle moans were pushed out of your mouth, allowing yourself to embrace every part of his bandaged body and Dazai permitted himself to give you all of him without hesitation.

Upon the next morning, Dazai was the first to wake up. Usually, he’d contemplate life at this hour, but for some reason, he didn’t today. He wasn’t complaining, though. He turned to you, faint snores coming from your lips as a smile grew on his flushed face. “How beautiful,” he commented, smirking to himself at the bruised purples decorating your neck and collarbone.

Gently, he kissed them, one by one. Of course, you woke up, and nearly tackled him right then and there since he interrupted your sleep since you both decided to knock out two hours after midnight. Dazai only allowed himself to be attacked, with a whack of a pillow to his face as he pleaded for mercy. His heart continued to flutter; autumn wind enlightening his heart—oranges and yellows dancing along his heartbeat, similar to the sunset that he witnessed with you the past evening.

“I’m in looove,” he sang along, not caring for anything in the world. You stopped your pillow fighting with him before nearly dropping it to the floor. Dazai smirked at you; adoration in his eyes with a flicker of gratitude across his sacred stare. “You heard me right, belladonna. I am falling in love with you.”

“Dazai…”

“I know!” He stopped you, raising a hand. “Too soon, I know. I don’t want to ruin anything.”

You shook your head. “You’re not.”

“Don’t feel pressured to feel the same way.”

You didn’t say anything; it was all happening too fast, yet you only responded with a kiss to his forehead as he slowly engulfed himself into your chest. Naked bodies entangled with one another along the crumpled bed sheets and wrinkled blankets. Sun peeking through the window. Sighing, you continued to kiss his face all around. He chuckled—clearly, he loved this.

“I know you told me to not feel pressured but…” your voice trailed off as Dazai watched you turn your head shyly. “I’m starting to feel the same way back.”

“Can’t resist my charm, hmm?” He cocked his head side to side.

You scrunched up your nose as you shook your head. “You’re a strange and odd man, Dazai.”

For some reason, his heart fluttered at your response.

The more as time passed, the closer you both had gotten. It even involved the both of you talking about your personal lives on a deeper aspect, though you did the majority of the talking as Dazai was there to listen as you both watched the moonlight during those peaceful nights. With your head resting on his chest, Dazai felt quiet. A tranquil feeling. With your words echoing through his ears, he allowed his fingers to intertwine with yours every so often.

A cathartic release; pressing the tips of his fingers against yours before they merged into one together. You didn’t mind it when he placed kisses around your knuckles as you shared a funny story and he’d surprise you with a peck on the lips to throw you off guard—anyone to see your flustered face, really.

At one point, he allowed himself to kiss you passionately. Like the night that he made love to you, though he expressed his feelings through the kiss.

He tasted the sunset on his lips.

Dazai hoped that his heart wouldn’t grow weary, for that the season of autumn wasn’t going to wither into a cold winter night.

But it didn’t take long for your shock gasp to catch his attention while the boat viciously rocked to one side, causing you to tumble down to the floor from the bed. Dazai called out to you, attempting to reach you before the ship had swayed harshly again and he felt his back hit against the wall—his head along with it.

“Dazai!” You called out to him, attempting to stand on your feet.

Quickly, you ran to him as he groaned, placing a hand on his head. Once Dazai opened his eyes, his vision went into a motion blur. He let out a painful moan right after that before he shut his eyes right away.

Throwing your arms around him, you pulled him close and let his forehead rest against your shoulder. Looking out the window, you noticed a crowd of people running past. Anxiety began to boil your blood but you allowed yourself to be brave while you let Dazai keep his head rested on your shoulder.

“Grab the children and women!”

A male voice echoed from outside your door. Gripping onto Dazai tightly, you kept him close to your chest while he continued to groan painfully. “Shhh,” you shushed him as he murmured questions about the commotion outside. “I got you, Dazai. It’s okay; we’re okay.”

Harsh knocking was planted on your door. Dazai flinched from it as he threw his hand further into his hair. The pounding headache was growing—and Dazai wasn’t sure how hard he hit his head once the boat rocked, but God, the pain wasn’t easing.

“Whoever’s in there, you need to leave now!”

You gulped, unsure of how to respond as you looked down at Dazai who still kept his eyes shut. A whirlwind hurricane crashed in his head; stinging from one end to another and Dazai hoped that he’d have a moment of silence with you. Though the rush of screams and cries from the outside of your cabin door wasn’t easing the terrible headache in the slightest.

“Da—Dazai, we have to go,” you stuttered, fear embedded in your vocal tone. “Can you get up?”

“Agh,” he groaned, shaking his head before burrowing his face further into your neck. “Mmm… no.”

“I—I think something’s going on.”

“Wha—”

“Dazai, we have to go,” you cautiously stood up, nearly losing your balance while the ship rocked once more. Dazai groaned at that and you kept his face close to your chest while helping him manage to get on his two feet. ‘How hard did you hit your head?’ You thought—but you shook your head. That wasn’t important.

“What’s going on?” Dazai asked, opening one of his eyes before he closed them shut as you swung one of his arms around your shoulders and kept an arm around his waist. “Y/N, what is—”

“I—I don’t know,” you responded, clearly panicked.

“I’ll protect you, okay?”

“Shush,” you said, slowly making your way to the front door with him taking slow steps. “Worry about yourself right now. I saved you once before and dammit, I will try to do it again.”

He smiled to himself at your comment as he kept his head down.

You opened the door, eyes widening at your socks getting drenched by the small bit of water filling up from the floor. Dazai noticed the cool temperature on his feet and then widened his eyes, fighting back the stinging pain on his head before he looked around—mentally cursing at the flickering lights—to see that water was pooling down below.

“This can’t be just a leak, right?” You chuckled anxiously; clearly, your mind retorted to the worst thought, but you tried to lighten up the mood—for some reason.

“Fuck,” Dazai swore, gritting his teeth. “The ship is going to sink.”

“I know you’re in pain but can you move?” You asked, trying to nudge him to move to the left so you were able to make your way down the hallway. He nodded, keeping your grip tight around his waist while his arm was still swung around your shoulders.

Carefully, you both made your way down the hallway, having to put in more energy as the floor was beginning to tilt from the ship easing into its dangerous angle. Luckily, you were able to make it to the end, escorting yourself out of the corridor with Dazai’s head still swaying around. His eyes were shut, but his mind was attempting to be in pure focus as adrenaline zapped through his veins; a fight-or-flight reaction, knowing too well that the situation was hazardous.

Knowing that Dazai’s head was in pain, you gulped, frantically looking around for the quickest exit out of the area. Keeping him close to your side, you continued to make your way to the dining hall.

As if Dazai’s head wasn’t already in enough pain, the headache began to worsen once you both stepped foot into the large room.

What was filled with boisterous crowds of the rich singing about their unstoppable greed was now met with chaotic cries and pleas as multiple people clung onto the faintly golden-kissed pillars. You eyed those that were tumbling up the stairs, yelling that the ship was going to sink as they were hastily making their way past others.

“Let’s go, Dazai,” you spoke close to his ear as he nodded.

Dazai rested his head on your shoulder yet he kept his gaze down. At one point, he managed to open his eyes carefully, fighting back the anguish occurring through his head, and tried to keep an eye out for where you were trying to lead him.

It was difficult to not get bumped by people that were trying to save their own lives once the ship began to tilt slightly. The cries began to pick up its volume and you bit your bottom lip, sweat trickling down your forehead. All of this was too much—it was too overwhelming and exhausting to bear.

You gasped as you felt Dazai tumble next to you. His groans were enough to catch your attention. Calling out his name, you went back to grab ahold of him, pleading to have him use his physical strength to get up despite how dizzy his mind must’ve been in its hazy blur. At some point, you worried that he was going to faint from how painful his head must’ve felt.

“M’fine,” he slurred, shaking his head.

“You’re not, but we need to go,” you said loudly, trying to have him properly despite the people pushing past you.

Without hesitation, you cupped your hands around his flushed cheeks and he opened his eyes to stare at you, cautiously watching the worried look drawn on your face. Tears pooled your eyes as sniffles were audible to his ears. “Y/N…” he whispered close to your face.

“Dazai, the ship is gonna sink, please. Try to move. I got you, okay?”

He nodded before throwing his shoulder over you like before. You helped him stay still on his feet as you pushed alongside the strangers that were frantically running up the stairs. Dazai managed to pick up the pace which was good enough; the top of the stairs would’ve been enough to reach the doors that led to the upper part of the ship.

However, a cry was heard from a woman down below, pleading for someone to rescue her before the windows shattered into an alarming screech. Pools of sea water rushed in, nearly eating those below the stairs as they yelled out for help and desperately grabbed ahold of anything that was near their presence.

“Fuck!” Dazai swore out loud.

“Hurry!” You cried out, helping him up the stairs as you both scurried past those close to you.

Dazai attempted to snap into reality, ignoring the blur in his eyes for a moment until you both ran up the stairs together. It wasn’t long until another window above him had broken, where water rushed in to engulf him for a brief moment.

“Dazai!” You called out his name, nearly sobbing at the anxiety drowning your heart.

Shattered glass had marked a few cuts on his wrist. Funny. Dazai was aware of the stinging pain all too well. Though thinking about his past suicidal ideations wasn’t the best move right now. Fighting back the harsh push of the wave, he urged you to keep running up the stairs and that he’d catch up.

You wanted to believe him yet your body lunged further into the water to help him. Ignoring the desperate pleas from those around Dazai, you grabbed ahold of his arm and then helped him out of the water. It wasn’t going to be long until the whole dining room was going to be submerged in seawater.

Steadily, you both ran up the stairs with Dazai’s hand intertwined with yours. Panting breaths became normal for you at this point. A racing heart became a norm as well—at least for the past hour or so.

And you both reached the top of the ship, where you eyed down at the seawater filling up below you.

“Shit,” Dazai swore, placing pressure on his wrists in order to stop the bleeding. Usually, the sight never really bothered him. But now out of all times was just the worst timing.

“Dazai, no,” you cried softly, grabbing ahold of his hand, not minding that you were getting his blood on your skin. “We’re gonna get out of here and I’m going to find help for you, okay?”

He groaned. “You better go out on a few dates with me if we make it out alive.”

“Now is not the time, Dazai!”

You kept your hand locked with his as you pushed past the people that were rummaging through the top floor. The sound of babies crying was enough to drown your heart even more, deeper than you’d imagine, and the wailing sobs of children fearing for their lives started to make you fall into a deeper cry.

“Women and children—only!”

You noticed that some people were desperately jumping on the wooden lifeboats that were slowly inching themselves down to the water. Nearly gasping at the sight, you noticed that all of the lifeboats contained women and children onboard; not one man in sight, regardless of your eyes darting around the boats.

Dazai fell to his knees close to you, heaving out breaths as you inched down to meet him. He rested his head back against the railing, muttering out curse words. Damp hair decorated on his forehead. Watching the layers of the bandages wrapped around his wrist slowly wet into an unsettling dark red, you bit your lip and stood up fast.

You made your way to the man that was shouting at the women and children to get onboard to the lifeboats quickly before you grabbed ahold of the collar of his uniform. Shouts roared from the crowd, demanding that the husbands of the families should get on. Heartbeat raced; steady pace was now gone in a flash. You gritted your teeth at one of the boat crew members.

“Someone I know is in critical pain and he is bleeding!” A loud cry left your lips. “Please get him help. He can’t move and—”

“We are doing ever—”

“Just get him on the lifeboat, please!”

No use. You knew that the crew members were meant to follow orders, yet here you were yelling your agony at him when the ship was sinking. Sighing in defeat, you threw the man to the ground before stomping your way past the yelling men close to you, demanding to be put on the boats.

Dazai was humming to himself in hopes of keeping himself at ease. His eyes bolted open once you grabbed ahold of his figure, forcing him to stumble on his feet. Dragging him past the crowd, you noticed the beaten smile on his lips—almost seeming as if he had decided to give up on hope already and he was welcoming death right at this very moment.

Though what Dazai took note of was that he was going to use the advantage to have you go on the lifeboat before him. Women and children first, anyway. Not like his life mattered to anyone—besides you; not only did the sunset on his lips stay comfortingly but he was soothed by your frantic cries of wanting to get him to safety first. Even before you.

His wrist stung and he bit his bottom lip. Usually, the thought of dying never really annoyed him or even tickled him in the most unsettling way; rather so, he awaited it. But when it came to a sharp pain and blood staining the whites blanketing his skin—no. That wasn’t his thing.

“I don’t give a damn what anyone says,” you cupped his face, nearly stumbling from the few men that tried to jump off the ship in order to gain access to the lifeboat. Dazai kept his eyes on you; hollow yet filled with the usual tints of oranges and yellows that you adored—the beauty of the sunset was within his irises every time he spared to look at you. “Get off this ship. They have to have some first-aid kits or something on these lifeboats. Save yourself and don’t fucking die on me, okay?!”

He smiled at you with a tilt of his head. “Belladonna, I am in love with you.”

“God, Dazai, this isn’t the ti—”

“Please don’t forget that, okay?”

You blinked frantically at him. “Wh—what are—”

“I’m sorry.”

Before you could respond, he placed a kiss on your lips. Hard. In hopes of embracing his feelings with yours. And he pushed you. Hard. Again. You fell back into the lifeboat as the arms of the other women embraced you as you winced in pain from the sudden thud.

Realizing what he had done, you felt the lifeboat slowly ease its way down. Looking up, you stared at him. A smile. He kept it on his face as he laughed out loud and continued to shout out that he was in love with you. A wave of his hand made your heart sink—perhaps drowning underneath the seawater would’ve been less painful at this point. And you noticed the flares go off from behind him, signaling a cry for help near the crescent of the moon from above.

The gold in his eyes fading into a gray.

No matter how stubborn Dazai was, you weren’t going to lie to yourself that you were also falling in love with him as well. Though it was difficult; the unsinkable ship was now sinking, and he was already bleeding from his wrist. A massive headache on top of it. You didn’t know if he was going to give himself into death once the boat would sink—and you weren’t going to risk that happening if that was his final choice.

Gritting your teeth, you looked around the lifeboat to see that it had only eased to a floor below the level that you both were on. Without thinking, you lunged out of the lifeboat, hearing the yells from the women behind you as you gripped onto the railing of the ship.

Grunting, you pulled yourself up shakily. Tumbling over the railing, you coughed out loud, not minding the footsteps that were stomping past you.

“Y/N!”

Dazai’s familiar voice cried out to you. He ran to you in an instant before he helped you up on your feet. Instantly, he planted kisses on your face along with peppering a few on your lips. Wailing out a cry, you wanted to punch him yet you only found yourself slowly diving deep into his chest.

“What the hell were you thinking, Y/N?!” He exclaimed, eyebrows furrowing into a worry. “You were going to get off the—”

“You were going to let yourself die, weren’t you!” You sobbed. Dazai’s eyes widened as a gasp left his mouth. “You idiot, you think I wouldn’t notice! Don’t die, Dazai! I won’t let you—I’m not going to let you!”

“Y/N—”

“I will save your life forever if I have to!” At this point, your cries were audible throughout the floor as you hugged him, face buried deep into his wet shirt. “Tell me, you were going to let yourself just die, right?!”

He blinked before sighing into a defeat. Carefully nodding, he placed a hand on your head before petting you, cautiously shushing you as he kept you close to his chest. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Idiot,” you exclaimed, gripping on his shirt. “Wherever you are, I am going to save you no matter how long it takes!”

Whenever Dazai wanted to say something, he’d speak it so confidently—usually in a cocky manner to play around with people around him. However, with one look of your tearful stares and the banters that you spoke, Dazai wanted to engulf his embrace with yours. Not wanting to leave. Flare lights paraded the sky; blinking slowly from afar.

His eyes darted to the other end of the floor you were both on. The ship was already at its peak of tilting, close to a sharp angle, and he patted your shoulders before jolting up. “Belladonna, we have to go—now!” Dazai shouted, grabbing ahold of your hand. “Don’t you dare let go of me!”

You nodded. Both of you dashed down the floor to where he was instantly looking for the nearest stairs that could lead to the upper level. Even though you had given up your chance to escape, knowing that you were still near Dazai’s presence was enough to make you feel more at ease—despite the pooling anxiety that swirled in your chest.

The ship began to tilt fast, and Dazai hurriedly took you close to the nearest ladder, to where you both ran past a group of people that were praying. Completely hopeless. The shatter of glass was audible from some of the rooms nearby. And muffled cries were the only depressing music heard by those already bracing for death knocking at their doors.

To watch the husbands get held back as their wives had to bid their farewells to them was unfair. The overwhelming feeling of defeat; a white flag along the air to state the surrender as the battle that was once fought was not meant to be won. A heavenly vacation had turned into nothing but a spiral of trauma and agonizing death for some unfortunate souls; not even the waves crashing through the windows was enough to frighten the disgusting sorrow that was gripping your heart as a whole.

Dazai grabbed on the metal ladder, tugging on your hand as he signaled you to climb up with him. Nodding, you followed from behind, frantically climbing up.

He grabbed hold of you, kissing your lips once more before he dragged you to the very end of the ship. Turning around, you noticed that the lifeboats were all gone—and at this point, it was all or nothing. Desperate strangers jumped off the railing, screams echoed through the chilly sea wind, and the idea of the desperate emotion of forlorn hovered above the sinking shop.

The flares that went off into the sky were no longer being sent off. Perhaps that all of the given hope was lost at this point. And the ship was tilting, with your fingers intertwined with Dazai’s. Maybe you were going to die a beautiful death with him after all—at least, with his presence, it wasn’t so bad. Not on the brink of loneliness. Because he would’ve been there with you. Though for a suicidal man, you didn’t expect him to be so determined; had it been for your safety or both of yours? You couldn’t recall.

When the ship split in two, screams were louder than before and cries became the only noise that you were used to by now. Dazai fell on his feet before forcing himself to stand up as you two made your way closer to the railing of the ship; the grip of his hand tighter than before—gritted teeth and knitted eyebrows—as he let out a heavy breath.

“You’re not letting go, okay?” Dazai said and you nodded quickly. He grabbed onto the railing before helping you up. Once you were around the railing with him, he kept an arm around you tightly and then planted kisses on your cheek, attempting to soothe your cries. “This is where you saved me, remember?”

“Dazai,” you sobbed.

“We’ll be okay, love,” he grabbed ahold of your hand as the half of the ship had fallen onto the water. A large splash of the cold sea water washed over you, causing you to yelp out in fear and he kept his grip tighten around you—enough to have you hide your face deep within his wet shirt, hoping that he wouldn’t make any sudden movements enough to have him let you go. “We’re going to be okay. I love you. I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

“I’m—I’m scared—”

He kissed your forehead and then your lips. “I love you. Stay close to me. Do not let go of my hand.”

“Oka—okay.”

The half of the ship tilted in its ninety degree angle, causing the people below to fall to the water. Every passing second felt like an eternity, where the splash of white and blues were dark from the midnight sky. You closed your eyes, hearing the crash of the waves bang your ears as you let out an uncontrollable sob into Dazai’s chest.

“I’m scared, Dazai, I’m so—”

“I know, love, I know,” he attempted to soothe you, knowing that you were both going to submerge deep within the water in a few seconds. Quickly, Dazai placed a kiss on your forehead once again before sprinkling his lips around your flushed face. “Hold onto me, okay? We’re going to stay together.”

“Dazai!” You let out a sob.

“I love you! Do not let go of my hand, okay?”

And the two of you had fallen into the water. The cold had never felt so bitter and disgusting before. On the brink of death; near those that were pleading for mercy as they wailed their arms around. Waves crashed in the night. Emotionless and gut-wrenching trauma filled the air, near the crescent moon.

Your hand never left his, no matter how slippery it was. Oxygen taken away from your lungs. Dazai lunged up from the water, gasping for as much air as he could. Breathing had never made him feel so alive before. And his eyes darted around, in hopes of finding anything that he could get his hands on to help bring both of you on some type of surface.

With the water temperature, there was no way that both of you were going to survive in the sea. He eyed a large wooden board before pulling you up close to him, where you coughed out in fear and still fought back a couple of cries. In an instant, Dazai dragged you along the water, attempting to swim as fast as he could without trying to risk any attempt of losing you.

Hurriedly, he lifted himself on the board before he rolled along the wood, continuing to heave out breaths as he gasped for as much air as he could. Shivered to the bones. Dazai turned to you, attempting to help you up from the water before you shouted at him to stop.

“Y/N! Get on here, I will—”

“It will sink,” your body shivered; the cold was making your legs numb. Dazai bent down on the board before grabbing ahold of your wrists. “No, no, no—”

“My love, don’t be stubborn please. Get up on—”

“Dazai!” You shouted, bottom lip quivering from the cold. Dazai noticed your skin slowly growing pale. From the autumn that soared in his heart, he hadn’t realized that the bitterness of winter was going to fade into a long cold night. “Do—don’t… just stay.”

“Y/N, please,” Dazai bit his lip as he fought back a cry.

“I’m so—so cold.”

“Let me help you, okay beautiful? Everything is okay.” He chuckled, in hopes of the compliment would be enough to make you smile. And you forced a smile, despite how much your jaw was in pain and your body shivered along with the cold temperature painfully stinging your skin.

“It—it will sink. You—you know that.”

Of course, he knew.

“Switch places with me,” Dazai demanded, nearly trying to get off the board.

You smacked his hand with as much energy as you could before letting out a breathy giggle. Dazai gritted his teeth before shoving his head down, forehead meeting the wood, and he let out a defeated cry. Hopeless. At least there was no chance out of this—for you. When it really should’ve been him in the water, not your angelic smile to soon be taken away from the world so soon.

“Da—Dazai, be a good man forever,” you shivered, resting your head as close as you could to his hand. “Do—don’t hate me for this but I have fallen in love with you too.”

“This isn’t the time, love!”

“Ha,” you laughed, closing your eyes against his head. “You—you sound like me.”

“Hang in there, okay?” He leaned in, attempting to place a kiss on your forehead. His lips stung painfully from the cold, but he didn’t care. “I’m holding onto you. I’m going to keep you warm. Do not let go, my love.”

Within seconds, Dazai’s eyes faded into a blur before he felt himself give into exhaustion. His head rested against the wooden board, keeping his hand on yours as he noted that your shivering body was a good sign—in a way—since you were still alive. All he could do was pray, and Dazai wasn’t the type to do such a thing, but he walked along the fine string of hope knowing that you were going to make it out of the cold somehow and help was going to soon make its rescue.

When Dazai slept, his body was cold as his mind faded into nothing but the dark. Yet the shine of the light caused his eyes to flutter open where he noticed that—after what seemed like forever—there had been a batch of rescue boats that came their way to look for any remaining survivors that had survived the traumatic shipwreck.

He turned to you, tapping on your still body, murmuring that there was finally some hope that you both were going to look forward to. But without the trembles of your body, Dazai had to face the reality that the cold had taken over you—frostbitten from the tips of your fingers as your skin was flushed in tangents of blue. And the cry that he wailed out hurt him more than the frostnip at the tip of his nose and the stinging wound on his wrist from before; it called out to the attention of the rescuers, though it wasn’t a pleasant wail that any one of them had hoped to hear.

He pleaded to have them help you, at least try to attempt to take you in for medical help. But Dazai was not a stupid man; his antics may have been silly, though his mind had an intelligence above all, with the one look of your body near his, he knew the truth all too well to his eyes. In frustration, Dazai yelled at some of the men on the rescue boat in anger, almost fumbling on his feet before he was given a warm blanket and he had to force himself to lay on the ground, hidden beneath the cloth.

Dazai knew living was a sin itself. It caused agony to live through the harsh moments of life, such as experiencing the death of his first love and witnessing a traumatic moment in history that would not have been forgotten. He knew that there was no purpose to the act of living, which was why he gave himself the wish to commit a clean suicide to begin with—though you had stopped him at the start of his Titanic getaway.

He always thought that humans were a miserable and dangerous bunch. Clearly, Dazai fully knew it all too well that even he, himself, was a part of that bunch. Though, the boat ride back home was enough to have him open his eyes to peek at the kiss of the sunrise, noting that the beautiful warm colors have greeted him to a peaceful welcome.

Something about the gold beneath the horizon was enough to bring comfort to his heart at that moment.

And it wasn’t long until the news had gotten out about the Titanic sinking. Dazai remained in the hospital with the other rare—and few—survivors for quite some time, not only to heal physically but the majority of the treatment was meant to help cope with the trauma. But Dazai didn’t pay much mind to this, really, and instead invested in his time reading books throughout the hospitalization, wanting to clear his head from having to consistently grieve about your presence.

During his discharge, he found himself watching the sunset more often than usual. Something about those warm colors. Really, it was that. He found comfort in it. Perhaps it was because he couldn’t forget the moment that he took you to the end of the ship to have him realize that he fell in love with you—the way your kindness soared since you cared for him; a mere stranger, let alone, an outcast from the norms of society—and even though he’d have to wait for another day to pass, it was worth it to watch the sunset.

At one point, he was sitting alongside the edge of the docks, Dazai swayed his feet back and forth. An unlit cigarette danced along his teeth before he took it out and flicked it to the side, not minding that the drug was near his presence one bit. The faint noises of children playing in the background began to blur out from his mind.

He eyed the sunset in front of him. Glimmering warm colors as usual, kissing the tip of the ocean’s horizon and Dazai smiled to himself. The image of you flickered across his thoughts; memories began to fill his mind as he closed his eyes and threw his head back. Satisfied sigh escaped his lips, he smiled in remembrance of the illumination in your eyes.

Because Dazai knew that he wasn’t someone that would try to make his presence known to a lot of people—at least, he eyed himself as the usual social outcast. Not once did he really put himself out there for typical relationships that would take a toll on his heart in either the good or bad feelings. Nobody mattered much to his existence, really, and even then, with the sunset eyeing his movements, he didn’t take notice that he could have the ability to be likeable to others.

With your existence vanished from the world, Dazai jokingly found himself saying that he’d commit suicide in order to meet you in another universe—let it be heaven or the pits of hell. Though he could picture your angry stare at him, yelling at him to live to see another sunset. Even now, his heart continued to flutter in the vibrants of oranges and yellows despite the tint of dullness in his eyes.

‘Be proud of me, silly,’ he thought to himself. ‘I haven’t attempted it since you died.’

Dazai let out a deep sigh.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” he then chuckled to himself, resting his back against the dock.

“I will be okay.”

tags: @whorefordazai @tender-rosiey @internetkilledtheroxstar @sadcannibal @bsdparadise @pompompurin1028 @dazais-osamu @tetsustation @milky-toast @missrown @requiem626k @jessbeinme15 @kyuus4ku @so-chile @kiyokoxd

[what-i-call-men]

Loyalty

James Patrick March x fem!reader

Warnings: a lot of murder, cheating on multiple occasions, some sex mentions, a proposal

Request: from me Fic thought of the night- you become James’ first prodigy because you were in the hotel with your husband and ended up pushing him out the window or something (where he wouldn’t end up in the hotel) and James wants you to carry on his work but you just fall in love with his passion. I’m thinking like housewife in the 60s poisoning her husband or something. Maybe she’s running from the crime scene and hiding in the hotel. Murder suicide and when she wakes up James is just clapping

Picture credit to @copy-of-a-cheeto​

That was it, you were over his stupid screaming and fighting with you and constant harassment over how bad you were at everything. You’d had it. You were on vacation with your husband and this was the last straw after nights of fighting instead of what should’ve been a romantic get away. He currently stood beside the window, looking out to the city, and muttering about how his assistant was so much better than you in bed. It wasn’t something you didn’t know about either but this was the last straw in your book.

With a rush of rage you walked behind him, grabbing an ice pick off the bar and ran it through his back. He gasped at the sudden pain, but before he could turn around to you you were removing the pick and picking him up with the strength of your adrenaline, pushing him head first out the window onto the street in front of the hotel. You leaned out after hearing the thud of his body from the 8-story drop. As you stared down at the body on the street you felt nothing other than rage, but as soon as you turned back to your room you realized that he’s dead and you just killed him. As soon as people figured out who he was you’d be suspect number one.

You hurried to his bag and grabbed the razor out of his toiletries. Killing yourself or your husband wasn’t even the strangest part of the whole affair. The strangest part was you waking up, staring down at your bloody body in the bath tub. At first you didn’t even realize what was happening until you heard slow clapping from behind you in your room. Turning around, you saw a man dressed in a suit with a cane and an ascot around his neck. “That was quite a show deary, I’ve never seen a woman with rage quite like yours.” He said and untucked the cane from his arm to lean against it again. “If you would’ve waited a few more seconds I would’ve offered you my own knife. Or I would’ve even done him in myself.”He gestures to his cane where it unlatched the head to reveal a small dagger.

You looked at him for a second, still at a loss for words until you finally murmured out a “who are you?”. James offered his hand to you to which you took as he introduced himself. “My name is James Patrick March. I built this hotel and I was walking past and heard the commotion. Serves him right for what he did to a beautiful woman like you. He got everything that was coming to him.” James muttered as he looked out towards the window where the body had fallen right off the property but behind the building where no one would see it.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long. He makes it so hard to even carve up a chicken for dinner without imagining it was it throat. He had been sleeping with his assistant for a year but I never went to college so I could never afford leave him.” You muttered as James walked towards the door, beckoning you to follow him. You followed and he nodded for you to continue talking. “He always wanted kids but I was never able to give that to him so he would seek her out in hopes she would provide that for him.” You felt like James was protecting you and made you feel better about what had happened. It was comforting until he placed his hand in yours to lead you down the halls and you felt a wedding ring adorned on his finger.

As the night went on James helped you, making a woman from the front desk carry in the body of your husband and throw him down a chute. He also had Ms. Evers dispose of your body and your husbands things. You soon sat in what you assumed was his room at a dinner table, eating along with him as he spoke about how artful your murder was. How a murder suicide was how he died as well with Ms. Evers and how that never stopped him from killing others. As James spoke, you quickly became enthralled with how passionate he was about death and killing. You didn’t have a weird or gross feeling when he talked about it, only a passionate love for the art of murder.

As days passed James had begun to taking a liking to your intrigue, in his murders. He began to show you the ropes of his preparation towards murder, the gory treasures he took from those he killed. On a trip you two took around the hotel on one of these days, he seemed particularly exited as you followed behind him past the bar and down a flight of stairs. “Mr. March I wanted to thank you for helping me out of my situation.” You spoke towards the man before you as he walked ahead of you.

“It was no problem dearest, I built this hotel as a safe haven for my hobby. A body is the least of its concerns.” He went on as you walked behind him. “May I ask where your wife is?” You asked and he faltered for a moment before stopping his walking and turning to you. “She’s none of your concern dearest.” He said and then continued walking, you falling a bit behind before he moved on to show you the torture chambers in the basement of the hotel. Surprisingly you weren’t weak stomached as he spoke eloquently about everything. Instead you held onto his elbow as he lead you around.

Something still felt wrong with him wearing a wedding ring and yet no talk of his wife or even a hint of her being around him. You’d been with him pretty much all of the last few days and he didn’t even have women’s things in his room to hint she lived there. “I have a surprise for you.” He said and you turned after hearing a door close behind you. Ms. Evers stood with a man and woman being hauled in behind her. “He’s just like your husband. He’s here today with his mistress because they chose to run away together. I thought this might excite you.” James said and the couple was thrown before you, gagged and tied.

You paused for a moment. You saw fear in both of their eyes. This woman was years younger than the man and he had grey littered through his hair. “Is she your assistant?” You spoke to him harshly, feeling the same anger towards your husband to this man now. He looked up at you and nodded. You felt your face grow hot as James slipped something into your hand. You glanced down to see a blade, the one from the top of his cane. Looking back to the man, you stared him down as you plunged the knife into the woman’s chest. His eyes widened and he screamed behind the gag.

Soon after stabbing the woman a few times you ripped the blade out and pointed it at the man. “You ungrateful traitorous bastard of a man deserve the worst and hottest place in hell for treating your poor hardworking wife as if she were nothing! She’s not nothing. I’m. Not. Nothing.” You yelled, punctuating your last words with a stab to his chest. You now straddling his body as blood coated your front. You felt no remorse. You in fact felt relief and you only felt better when James scooped you up and praised you. He ended his praise with a kiss to your lips. One that lasted a few moments as your heart dropped in your chest.

Nothing was really the same after that. James would ring your room every time a new man came in with a mistress and you would show up to their room usually with a knife behind your back. And every time you returned to James with blood splatter across your face and dress he would kiss you and help clean you off. You loved the praise he gave you but you knew you’d become his woman on the side. You’d never even slept with him but you still felt bad every time his wedding band touched your arm.

It wasn’t until he’d invited you to a dinner with him and his wife was there that you had truly met her. “Y/n, dearest, this is my wife Elizabeth.” He said as he gestured to the other woman at the table. She was a major juxtaposition in comparison to him. She was more into the times with her fashion, beautiful blonde hair swept across her face. “I’m so happy you could join us. I wanted to talk to you about your relationship with James here.” She patted a seat near her as James nudged you forwards. You sat nervously beside her, her aura oozing confidence and radiance.

“I want you to know I know everything you do for him and that him and I have an open arrangement for him and i to do as we please. Because I am the living owner of the hotel I keep the name and the legality of what we had, but none of the love he had for me.” She said and placed her hand on yours. “If you’d like to keep him company in the romantic sense I will be all the more supportive of your choice.” She added.

From that night on your relationship with James become more gory. Now instead of kisses and praise. You two would kill together in the hotel, then make love on the sheets stained with the blood of the adulterous couples. James was a rough man but you were just as commanding which he loved. He became so infatuated with killing with you, he invited you to a dinner he had which he coined “Devils Night”. It was his birthday dinner which initially was you and Him alone, but as the years went on he found others he deemed more impressive than you.

These others were alive and he coached them to kill for him in the outside world. It wasn’t until John that you had truly become fed up with these new guests, each one more horrid than the last. When John came around you wanted nothing more than to kill him along with Sally. He took up all of James’ time. You had turned to Elizabeth for comfort which she welcomed with open arms and bare chest. Sure it was taboo to sleep not only with her husband but also with her. It brought a new flame to your existence to find comfort in her arms at your shared loss in the murderous man. It wasn’t until she announced to you she planned to marry again that you grew excited again.

“James will not take it well. I’m telling you now so that you can swoop in to comfort him. I see how in love with him you are and how passionate he is about killing with you.” She said as she lit up her cigarette, the two of you clad in your silk robes as you laid in her bed. “James was never enough to make me happy but he truly will be for you for eternity.” She said and you grinned. That smile didn’t leave your face until James came you to hours after their monthly dinner, his hair a mess and his cheeks red with what was either anger or tears.

You welcomed him into your room with open arms, pressing his lips to yours as you closed the door behind him. He lifted you up and brought you to your bed, muttering quietly about how he didn’t see it coming and how stupid Elizabeth’s man was for choosing her. You shut him up with your lips as you undid his jacket, throwing it on the ground as you began on his button up. He kissed along the column of your throat as you felt the fire ignite in you again. A fire that hasn’t blazed since the 70s when James had found his second prodigy after you.

He set you down and you looked up to him as he paused in thought. “There’s a couple in room 36. Can we go back to how we were?” He asked gently and put his hands on your arms, his wedding ring now missing from his hand. “I’d love to James.” You muttered and leaned up to his lips once more. The couple was no trouble, to murder. You always loved to get the men while he had no problem taking care of the women.

Moments after you were both straddling the bodies, now soaked in their blood and enjoying the adrenaline rush at its peak. You heard James say something but you couldn’t hear him over the buzz in your ears. Looking to him, you egged him to repeat his words. “Marry me. You’re the only one who truly understands me. Better than Elizabeth ever was.” He said and turned to you fully from where he kneeled on the bed. “No one is as good to me as you, you are the best thing to happen to me in this eternal life. You bring light to this dreary eternity more than completing some stupid commandments killings from my lifetime.”

He said and moved over the bodies to you where you just smiled and nodded at him. He grabbed you by the waist, letting you fall back onto the bed into the pools of blood, kissing you fervently as you grinned against his lips. The kiss tasted like so many before, coated in an iron taste and the love of this man before you, but this was different because as he pulled away he smiled down at you. “Let me help you up, Mrs. March.” He offered and you took his hand, butterflies swarming in your chest as he helped you.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

madam carter baizen president, what about carter with the song traitor by olivia rodrigo?

pairing : carter baizen x reader

warnings : angst, carter is an asshole (sadly), reader is nate’s twin sister

inspired by traitor

you betrayed me and i know that you'll never feel sorry for the way I hurt. you'd talk to her when we were together. loved you at your worst but that didn't matter, it took you two weeks to go off and date her. guess you didn't cheat but you're still a traitor

She stood in the middle of the high end designer shop, thousands of girls from Constance moving up and down, picking and fighting for different dresses for one of the biggest events before graduation - Cotillion. As a carrier of the Archibald family name, the twin sister of Nate Archibald, Y/N’s RSVP was sent in her behalf before she even understood what it actually was. She didn’t mind doing it, she didn’t mind keeping up the traditions that her family was so overprotective yet she couldn’t say she particularly enjoyed them. She had to be truthful to herself and admit that she did not enjoy the idea of being presented to society as merely a stereotype of what her social status expected her to become. Maybe that was the dream for some girls, but it definitely wasn’t hers. Nevertheless, she had convinced herself to go, after all Rory Gilmore had gone and she had had a blast so why shouldn’t Y/N give it a go? Besides, if she even thought about not going, she was sure her mother would come from the wood work with her dramatic reasons as to why going to Cotillion was important, when it reality there was only one reason why it mattered - reputation. 

      - So, which one is yours? - her brother joked, looking away from where Blair was trying on her own dress. Y/N rolled her eyes, raising her hand where a black hanger was with her dress. - White? You’re trying to present yourself as virginal?

       - One of us has to. - she bite back. - Besides, Rory wore white and I wanna wear white. 

       - You shouldn’t model your life after a sitcom, Y/N. It’s not gonna be nearly as fun as they portray it. 

       - I can always trip you while you’re dancing. That’ll be fun, huh? 

       - What’ll be fun will be seeing Carter Baizen escort you when mum and dad don’t even know you’re sneaking around with him. 

       - I’m not sneaking around and I told you I’m going alone. - she wasn’t lying. She’d become acquainted with Carter a few years ago and the two had become close friends, both sharing an ambition of travelling around the world, hiking high mountains and looking at the clearest seas but that’s where it ended. At least to him. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t have at least some sort of romantic interest in him. How could she not? He was a handsome man with the same ideals as her, who’d often flirt but she’d convinced herself it was just who he was. Yet, her hopes were always very high at whatever they had. He didn’t look at anyone else like he looked at her, he didn’t hug anyone else like he hugged her and after he left New York, she was the one who he’d still write to yet it never progressed to anything else. She’d rather have him as whatever they were so she could keep him. Of course, Nate was of a different opinion and believed the two were dating, just without the label. - Not everyone can take a Waldorf to Cotillion.

     - You’re not going alone, Y/N. C’mon, we know so many people, so many guys who’d die to take you to Cotillion.

     - It’s really not a big deal. 

     - You should just ask him. - Nate told her, before being dragged away by one of the tailors to fix his suit. She had to admit, she was rather keen on seeing her brother in a fitted grey suit. 

After deciding there was no point in keeping in that store, hoping to find something else, she stepped outside, dress bag over her shoulder. It was a pretty dress and after all, who does not enjoy to be in a pretty dress and get free food and drink? She continued to walk down the street, mindlessly going through a checklist in her head of things she had to get sorted before Cotillion tonight. As her mind checked out invisible tasks, she spotted Carter just a bit down the street. A smile playfully etched on her cherry stained lips as she walked down to meet him. 

     - Hello stranger. 

     - Oh, hi princess. - his eyes moved from whatever he had been looking at to look at her, yet something was off. - What you got there? Body bag?

     - Cotillion dress. Not as exciting. - his attention was scattered, eyes looking left and right as if he was looking out for something. - Are you ok, Carter?

     - ‘Course I am. - he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, turning her the opposite way. - Excited for Cotillion?

     -  They always have great stuffed mushrooms and I do intend to have at least a whole tray just for myself. 

     - Who’s the poor bastard who’s taking you? Vanderbilt?

     - He’s my cousin, Carter. Besides, I told you I am going by myself. 

     - And your mother allowed that?

     - She doesn’t need to know.

     - Sneaky. - he chuckled, stopping as her flat came into view. 

     - I wouldn’t have to be sneaky if you escorted me, Baizen. - she meant for it to sound as a joke, but as those words escaped her lips, she realised how oddly passive aggressive they sounded. 

     - You know it’s not my thing.

     - I know. - she sighed. - I’m just being silly.

     - I’ll take you for brunch tomorrow. We’ll discuss all the gossip that went on. You know the rules, the one with the best piece of gossip wins and the other one pays.

     - You better bring your wallet, Baizen. - she opened the door of her building, bidding her goodbyes before quickly climbing up the stairs to get ready.

Sure, part of her wished he would escort her and be her date but he despised the idea of Cotillion more than she did and she wouldn’t want him to be uncomfortable the whole night. Besides, if she went alone, she probably would get to change her own introduction speech and make a splash for the family. No publicity is bad publicity, after all. As the sun set down, she was being rushed into the car by her mother, hair set with pearl strings all around which matched the ones that hanged from her earrings. She felt pretty, she had to admit. However, as she stepped into the limo where Blair and Nate was, she couldn’t help but imagine how things would’ve been if Carter had taken her. He would’ve brought her favourite lilies as a corsage, just as when he came back from Florence on her birthday and surprised her with a whole bouquet of white lilies and roses. He’d probably have his tie a bit too loose, as he always did whenever he was inevitably forced to wear one. They would dance the whole night to classical pieces. Yet, all these past tenses were merely ghosts in her brain and as they pulled in front of the building hosting Cotillion, she realised she was alone. He wasn’t here, he didn’t make it a priority to escorting her. But it was okay, she’d never want him to do something which would make him uncomfortable. 

As per usual, they were fashionably late as Blair put it and were rushed to the big staircase. She’d seen it before with her cousins own cotillion ceremonies - two big staircases facing each other, one had all the girls and the other the boys. Normally, she’d be looking at whoever was escorting her but since she was about to be escorted by her own self, she merely looked at her own white shoes, contrasting with the gold gown Serena, who was in front of her, was wearing. As long as she didn’t trip or fall down the stairs, it would be fine. 

     - Escorting Serena van der Woodsen is Carter Baizen. - her eyes looked up as she wondered if her own tired brain was playing jokes on her. But it wasn’t.

They were there. He was here, in the centre, by Serena’s side, escorting her. The sound of the room all went quiet and all she could hear was the buzzing in her ears and her heart drop to her stomach. There were no thoughts in her brain and she didn’t seem to even acknowledge what was happening around her, all she felt was an overwhelming pain and her chest tightening.

    - Next is Y/N Archibald, daughter of Howard and Anne Archibald, escorted by ... - she went down the stairs, standing in the centre by her self as she felt the whole world staring at her. 

    - Me. - she looked to her left to see Chuck Bass run down the stairs to stand by her side. - Sorry, I’m late.

    - Thank you. - she mouthed to Chuck as they went down the stairs. 

    - He’s an ass. - Chuck said as they reached the floor. Immediately, Nate and Blair came over to her side. - I’ll stick around for when we have to dance.

    - Thank you, Chuck.   

    - I thought you said he didn’t like these things. - Nate was mad, everyone with a pair of eyes could see it. 

    - Not now.

    - Yes, now, Y/N. He humiliated you.

    - He didn’t ... he’s just a traitor.    

[yourtamaki]

the wanderer’s lodestone

dabi x f!reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: violence, detail of injury, murder, morally grey reader, dry humping, mutual masturbation, oral (m receiving), angst ending

if there was one thing dabi has learned over the years, it was that people always fell in one of two categories. there were those who would meet his gaze and those who avoided it. he’s not sure which is worse. the brave ones and their wide eyes, always staring at his marred skin with such sick fascination it made his palms itch in the worst way. or the spineless bastards whose eyes stayed glued to the ground when he walked past only to gawk at him like a sideshow freak when they thought he wasn’t looking.

two sides of the same judgemental coin, all part of the same corrupt society that preaches love until someone doesn’t fit their mold. it was getting harder to differentiate between them and at some point he stopped trying all together. what did it matter if he couldn’t remember how it felt to be regarded like a human being? he didn’t need to be human to carry out his vengeance, he only needed to be alive. 

that changed when he met you. 

it wasn’t his cleanest break-in but he couldn’t care less, too busy focused on not passing out from blood loss. it was shit luck that the alley he had chosen to rest in was part of a new hero’s patrol route. the kid was clearly scared out of his mind when he realized dabi wasn’t just another thug on the streets, his pale face illuminated in the night by blue flame. it was a shame, for a rookie the kid had talent with his dagger quirk, being able to throw and call them back at will, even change their trajectory midair. he could’ve made it far in the ranks. 

dabi wondered if they’d bury him with his daggers, scorched bones and all. 

it wasn’t his problem anymore. all he cared about was finding something clean to wrap the nasty cut on his abdomen. there was no special reason he chose your bedroom window to climb through. it was the first apartment with a fire escape he stumbled upon just far enough away from the ashes of the pro hero that he wouldn’t have to worry about being followed. your dim window was the first he reached and it didn’t take much effort to jam a knife between the glass and the lock to force it open. he thought the place might be empty for the night when he stepped inside and heard no signs of life. he got to work tearing the bedsheets in long strips and was nearly done when you walked in. 

there were people who met his gaze and there were people who avoided it. you were neither. 

you saw him. 

even in near darkness, your eyes found his and didn’t flinch at the monster that stared back. the room stayed silent as you seized each other up save the drops of blood that slipped past where he held his wound shut and splattered on the floor. 

“could you not rip my sheets up?” 

your voice was enough to startle him from his initial shock, twirling the knife once before going back to cutting up the fabric. “i need them more than you do. i’ll be gone in a minute, scream and i’ll kill you.” 

you scoffed but didn't reply, walking across the room and flipping the light on in a bathroom he hadn’t seen earlier. a wave of irritation washed over him as he watched you rummage through drawers. who would turn their back to someone who broke into their home? did you have no self preservation? 

you walked back, tossing several things onto the bed before making your way back deeper into the apartment. “close the window on your way out.” 

and with that you’re gone. a part of him wanted to chase you, to tie up the loose end but the memory of your eyes kept him frozen in place. the thought of those same eyes looking at him with fear made his gut twist and he didn’t understand why. he grabbed whatever you tossed at him, the few strips he’d managed to make and left the way he came. it’s not until he’s found an empty alley to rest in did he inspect the items. ace bandages, an entire bottle of hydrogen peroxide, fish wire and a sewing needle. 

your kindness tasted like pity and acid. he couldn’t convince himself to spit it out even as it burned a hole straight through his tongue. 

dabi hated you and he etched that hatred into his skin, stitch by painful stitch. hated you for reminding him that he had yet to purge the weakness from his soul. the same weakness that forced him to walk past your apartment over the next few weeks. it was stupid to stick around in the city for so long, especially after killing that hero. he told himself it was to make sure you’d upped your security since he’d tumbled into your home but it sounded the excuse rang hollow with no one to hear the lie. 

it became such a mindless part of his routine it took him a moment to realize one night that your window had been shattered open. his throat tightened almost painfully, your eyes flashed in his mind and he was flying up the fire escape a moment later. 

a lean figure was pulling open drawers when the sound of dabi stepping on broken glass made him whip around. it’s a pain, not being able to turn the man into fuel for his ever hungry flames but he didn’t think you’d appreciate him saving your house just to burn it down. 

the man’s movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, taking desperate swings that left him wide open for dabi to sneak under his defences. he’d just managed to grapple the intruder into a chokehold when the bedroom door creaked open and both men’s attention snapped to you. 

“you done yet?” you asked and dabi had to force himself to speak under the full weight of your gaze.

“were you here the whole time?” you nodded, acting far too casual for his liking. “why the fuck didn’t call the cops or something?” 

“i figured you’d show up.” you cocked your head at the incredulous look he threw you. “what, you thought i didn’t notice you coming around all the time?” 

he clicked his teeth in annoyance. “well, what do you want to do with him then, sweetheart?” 

it was a test and it was clear you knew it, glancing down at the intruder that had started weakly clawing at his arm. dabi would kill the man regardless of what you said but your answer would speak volumes on where you stood in this society rotted by false gods. 

“i don’t care what you do, just dump the body far from here.” you didn’t blink once as you sentenced the man to death, didn’t blink as dabi shifted his hold and the echo of a snapped neck rang out in the room. you held steady and a begrudging respect rose up in him.

he heaved the man over his shoulder, being mindful to keep the head hidden from your line of sight. you’d already passed his test, there was no need for you to see it any longer then he’d already made you. he just had to know if you were putting on a front or not. if you were, it would’ve been all the more likely for you to put in a tip about a certain villain that lurked around your neighbourhood. 

but instead you had held his gaze, didn’t look at him any differently and dabi didn’t want to know why he felt so relieved for it. 

he honoured your request, carrying the body through back alleys and shadows to the very edge of the city. his thoughts wandered, as they always seemed to where you’re considered, wondering how soon he could see you again while he watched the flames climb high into the night sky. 

“a tarp? seriously?” he’d lasted two full nights before his feet led him back to your fire escape and the brand new thick tarp that covered the missing window. you were in bed this time, reading a book the title of which he couldn’t make out with the dim light from your bedside lamp, not even bothering to look his way as he made himself comfortable on the window sill. 

“shitty landlord is taking his sweet time replacing the glass so yeah. tarp.” 

“you should move. i hear there’s a lot of break-ins going on around here.” he didn’t like how much your huff of laughter to his poor attempt at humour felt like a reward. 

“not all of us can afford to live in the hero sectors, you know?” 

the venom in your voice when you mentioned the hero sector caught him off guard. they’re one of the more subtle forms of corruption present in all cities with a hero presence. living in the hero sectors ensures one’s total safety from any threat. from robberies to natural disasters, a hero’s priority is focused on the rich who can afford the protection. no hero will ever admit to it, though. on paper, the sectors don’t exist. and yet the heroes flock to the same handful of neighbourhoods the moment a threat occurs. another underhand tactic to keep the poor in their place and the rich comfortable. 

you’ve become that much more interesting in his eyes.

“so, you here to bleed all over my sheets again or what?” 

dabi scoffed, “no, but i was hoping you could take these stitches out and we’ll call it even for saving your ass.” he could rip them out himself but where was the fun in that?

“yeah right. who saved who first?” despite your grumbling you waved dabi over, gesturing for him to sit on the bed while you went off to grab supplies from the bathroom. 

he expected you to pull up a chair once you returned but instead you placed a hand on his chest and pushed him onto his back. it took all his concentration not to flinch when you straddled him, your hand trailing under his shirt, fingertips grazing his burnt flesh as you pulled his shirt up, bundling the material and forcing it into his mouth. 

“you might wanna bite down on that, i’m all out of painkillers.” 

there was a gentleness in how you cut the stitches from his body, how you took care to dab an alcohol soaked cotton pad over each one. it made his chest go tight, unable to recall ever being this close to someone and not walking away with new scars. 

dabi found himself lulled into a trance by the rhythm of your hands, a trance that shattered as your fingertips strayed from the path of the cut, following the rows upon rows of staples that held him together instead. he watched your face closely, waiting for the disgust and horror to swim to the surface but your eyes kept the steadiness they always seemed to have. 

“does it hurt?” you whispered. 

he wanted to tell you that it didn’t hurt, not in the way you thought it did. that the nerves beneath his burnt and darkened flesh had died long ago and he couldn’t even feel the patterns you were now tracing on his stomach. it’s the unblemished skin that hurts, that always hurts. the parts of him that still cling to life. 

the human brain processes pain differently than any other stimulation it feels. pain never dulls, never vanishes no matter how long it lasts. every waking moment, his own mind tortures him with fresh waves of pain and never lets him forget the countless staples that pierce his flesh and tear him open everytime he moves. 

there’s so much he could tell you but the words refused to come out, burning up in his throat and leaving him choking on the ash. 

you didn’t push when no answer came, prying his shirt from his clenched teeth and pulling it back into place. “you’re good to go, stranger.” 

his hands that had been clenched by his sides twitched when you started to move away from him and judging by the tilt of your head, it didn’t escape your notice. you settled back over him and this time he couldn’t stop his hands from gripping onto your waist, trying to stop you from shifting.

“stop that.” he said through gritted teeth.

you gave another roll of your hips and smirked when his fingers dug deeper into your sides, “stop what?”

“you’re a fucking menace, you know that?”

“yeah. but you like it.”

he hated that you were right. but he’d be damned if he gave you the satisfaction of seeing him lose it from a little grinding. he used his hold on you to push you back slightly, spreading his legs even further until you were straddling his thigh instead. syrupy smugness filled his veins seeing you flustered for the first time since he’s met you.

“go on, don’t get shy on me now.” you were quick to shake off any reservations, growling at his teasing tone and grinding down on his thigh with a desperation that sent a thrill down his spine. “just like that, make yourself feel good.”

he couldn’t wrap his head around how right this felt. there should have been a moment of hesitation from either of you as you walked hand in hand over a line you’d have no way of crossing back over but instead you melted into each other, all his senses heightened and flooded with you, you, you. 

he was so focused on memorizing every minute expression that crossed your face he didn’t realize you were asking for help until you moved his hands from your waist to your ass. he was more than happy to take over, setting a brutal pace that had you crying out, bunching his shirt up in your fists to try to stay grounded.

“c’mon baby, let go.”

you cum with a strangled cry and he can feel every pulse and clench of your cunt through the layers that separated you. your whole body shook in his arms as he helped you ride out your high before you collapsed on top of him, your head buried in the crook of his neck. he let your hands wander up and down his sides but grabbed hold of your wrists when they started to make their way between his legs.

he was about to tell you to forget about it, to not worry about the ache that sat heavy and hard in his jeans but the pout on your face when you looked up made him freeze. 

“can i?” you asked, so close your warm breath fanned his face.

“you don’t- i didn’t…” he didn’t want you to think that this is all he’d wanted from you, that this wasn’t why he was compelled to return to you over and over. you seemed to understand his silent struggle, gracing him with a small smile. 

“i know. i want to.” any hesitation vanished at the challenging look you gave him while you freed his cock from its restraints. you held your palm out to him and dabi spat into it, never breaking eye contact as you do the same and wrapped your hand around him, coating his length in the mixture of you. you took as much care touching him as you did cutting his stitches, careful and sure with each stroke, sweeping a thumb over his sensitive tip to gather the precum that leaked like a faucet. 

as you worked his cock, he grabbed your leg that had fallen between his and pulled it up until your thighs were spread over his own. he couldn’t help the low groan that escaped him when he slid a hand into pants and past your panties and felt just how wet you were, sinking two fingers inside you just to hear you whine from the stretch. 

it wasn’t the best angle but dabi made it work, crooking his fingers and letting his rough palm slap against your clit with each thrust. when your eyes started to roll back into your head, he used his free hand to grab the back of your neck, pressing your forehead to his and making sure your vision was filled with nothing but him. 

“keep your eyes on me, don’t fucking close ‘em.” your mouth fell open as you nod, somehow keeping your pace steady even as he felt your walls fluttered around him. “show me that pretty face you make when you cum, sweetheart, i wanna see it again.” 

“‘m cumming ‘m cumming oh fuck- ! ” you gasped as your orgasm hit you. he moaned right alongside you as you squeezed just underneath his blunt tip in a sudden death grip, the pain-laced pleasure was almost enough to push him over the edge. 

you dropped to your knees quickly as you felt his cock twitch in your hand, popping the head into your mouth and rolling his heavy balls in your hand. the sudden sensation of your wet, hot tongue pressing at his slit had him shooting rope after rope of cum down your throat and his head spun when you swallowed every drop and showed him your empty mouth. 

dabi pounced, tackling you to the ground, cradling your head before it could hit the floor and crashing his lips onto yours so hard he already knew he’d have to give a gruff apology when they ended up bruised. he chased the bitter taste of himself that lingered on your tongue and shivered when your tongue ran across his scarred bottom lip and you didn’t recoil at what you felt. frantic, rough kisses melted away into a lazy make out that banished all but one thought from his mind. 

he could get used to this. he wanted to get used to this. 

“hey,” your voice pulled him back down to earth, something soft glimmering behind your eyes and dabi didn’t want to look away until he figured out what it was. “i wanna show you something.”

you wiggled out from beneath him, making your way to the window and pushing the heavy tarp out of the way before stepping onto the fire escape. 

following you up the winding stairs felt natural, like he was born to witness the small smile you threw over your shoulder to make sure he was keeping up. 

the view at the top was underwhelming. too many buildings pressed too close together, all the exact same height as the one you two stood on stretching as far as the eye could see to create the most painfully ordinary view he’d ever seen. but it was quiet. the roar of the streets below couldn’t be heard at all and dabi hadn’t realized how loud it all was until deafening silence took its place. and it was cold. cold enough that he couldn’t tell if the ache in his lungs was from the freezing air or the hazy memory of white hair that floated through his mind.

it was the closest thing to peace he could remember feeling in years. 

“you like it?” you were watching him closely, hopping from foot to foot and he didn’t know what possessed you to come out wearing only your flimsy sleepwear. you seemed proud of the little hidden treasure you found and something stirred in his chest thinking about how you chose to share it with him. 

“‘s nice.” he said, reaching out to cover both your hands in his and using just enough of his ever burning flame to warm you both. he found himself waiting once more for the sudden twist of revulsion in your features, for you to jerk away from his touch but you sighed in contentment as heat seeped back into your fingertips. you brought his hands up to your face, making him cup your cold cheeks and closing your eyes to savour the warmth. 

it was as you nuzzled into his palm that dabi realized exactly how dangerous you were to each other. undeserved kindness and crooked smiles and sharing secrets. he hadn’t earned any of these things and yet you handed them to him like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

and he’ll take them. because that was the nature of the fire he had been cursed with. it takes and takes and takes and you’ll be left with nothing to show for it but the grey ash of your generous heart. and in return you’d lull him with the false belief that he is more than the hatred that flows through his veins, that there was still a person buried under the mountain of rage he carried inside him. he doesn’t think he could survive without it but you would make him believe that he could. 

he’d destroy you. you’d ruin him. 

this, whatever this was that was growing between you was doomed to end before it had even started. he should leave you on this rooftop, leave the whole damn city and forget whatever you had tried to awaken in him. but dabi could never resist the call of destruction, would always want to know exactly how hot and how bright things could burn. what did love look like when it’s been bathed in flames? 

dabi pulled you closer, determined to find out.

dedicated to: @saintdabi​

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

De Amore

My fic for @aceomenszine is finally available on AO3!

Aziraphale has come to Paris to find the answer to an important question: What's it like to be in love? Crowley's not sure why he wants to know, but he's willing to discuss it to make his angel happy. Full text below!

--

“What’s it like to be in love?”

Crowley stumbled to a stop on the Paris street, glaring at the angel beside him. Aziraphale stared straight ahead, walking with his usual expression: calm, poised, slightly arrogant. As if he were talking about the weather.

“Dunno. S’a human thing, isn’t it?” He scowled at a few gawking peasants, hurrying to catch up. “Romance. Lust. Sex. Nothing to do with us.”

“You could say the same of hunger, or exhaustion, or boredom.”

“Yeah, and I’d be right.” Crowley held out an arm to stop Aziraphale from walking directly into a produce cart. “Neither of us gets exhausted. You’re never tired, and I just like a good nap sometimes.”

“Really?” A flicker of that mocking bastard smirk. “How many nights did you sleep this past week?”

“Nrrg. Five or six, but that’s not the point.” They started walking again, Crowley tossing an apple he’d snuck from the cart. “I could stop if I wanted to — I’d miss it, but s’not the same as being tired. Same with you and eating.”

“But if I desire a food, so strongly I can already taste it, surely that’s…if not exactly hunger, a close approximation?”

“Don’t think so.” Crowley offered the apple, but Aziraphale shook his head. “Spend a couple days in the city, you’ll see what hunger looks like. S’not about pleasure or wanting a particular food. It’s need, desperation. And we just don’t experience that.” He tossed the apple towards a group of children, and a girl in a ragged dress caught it. “Boredom I’ll grant you. I’ve definitely been bored.”

“So, we might enjoy things as humans do, but never desire them the same way,” Aziraphale mused, smoothing his hands down the front of his stolen jacket. “But is love the longing for a connection with another, or the pleasure of that connection?”

“Doesn’t really make a difference to us, does it?”

He waited for Aziraphale to respond, but the angel simply continued walking, hands folded behind his back, eyes more distant than usual.

“So?” Crowley prodded after nearly a block in silence. “What brought this on?” Aziraphale shrugged. “Let me guess. Reading novels again? Sappy poetry? Getting…ideas?” He stepped ahead of Aziraphale and walked backwards, to ensure the angel saw his suggestive eyebrow wiggle. No response. Crowley shrugged, falling back into step. “Look, f’you want to try falling in love with a human, s’your business. Let me know how it goes. Just do it back in London, I don’t need that…drama getting back to my bosses.”

“That’s not it,” Aziraphale snapped, wringing his hands. “It’s not — it doesn’t even work that way, Crowley. Humans don’t just decide to fall in love!”

“They don’t cross an ocean and charge through a revolution for a snack, either.”

“Oh, never mind. Clearly you’re the expert here.” Aziraphale froze, glaring at a shop just ahead, and threw his hands up in disgust. “And now they’ve closed my favorite creperie! Why do I even bother? Might as well return to England and feast upon whatever lumpy brown bread the first tavern I pass serves.”

“Stop being dramatic,” Crowley hissed, turning down a side street and gesturing for Aziraphale to follow. “If you get locked up again, I’m not rescuing you a second time.” The angel’s lips twisted sourly. “Look, gourmet crepes aren’t really in demand right now, but I know a place. Might still be open.”

“I suppose that will have to do.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and glared at the sky, thin grey clouds veiling the sun. He should probably just let Aziraphale stew in his own sullen displeasure. Might even give him an advantage — a distracted angel was easier to outsmart.

But Crowley hadn’t been in the business of thwarting Aziraphale for over a thousand years. Why oppose each other, when they could work…not together, but in tandem? Ensuring all their duties were fulfilled, their paperwork properly filed.

It was better this way. Less fuss all around, less inconvenience. Pleasanter conversation. More time for trips to the theater or quiet meals, either of which was a far better way to spend an evening than any sort of elaborate espionage.

He’d been looking forward to griping about his job over a mug of cider while Aziraphale worked his way through a plate of crepes, smiling and wiggling in his seat. Watching Aziraphale get excited over something was, in Crowley’s opinion, one of the best ways to pass the time.

Only the conversation had left Aziraphale annoyed, pouting and…Crowley studied him carefully, dark glasses imperfectly hiding his eyes. More than anything, Aziraphale looked hurt. A sight that always made Crowley’s stomach twist painfully.

He sighed, tossing back his head. “‘Love is an inborn suffering, proceeding from the sight and immoderate thought upon the beauty of another, for which cause above all other things one wishes to embrace the other and, by common assent, in this embrace to fulfil the commandments of love.’”[1]

“I beg your pardon?”

“Look, I don’t know. You asked me—!” Crowley walked faster, face growing hot. “It’s from some old treatise, right? Love, he says, is seeing someone beautiful and wanting sex. Then, when you have your fill…” he waved his hand vaguely.

“I see.” Aziraphale adjusted his sleeves. “I suppose that…makes sense.” But he still looked grim.

Up ahead, not quite along their path, stood one of Paris’s parks, gates now open to the public. Apart from some rubbish cluttering the entrance, it seemed well-maintained. Crowley tipped his head, inviting.

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up and he nodded, the first hint of a smile on his face. It always made Crowley feel light, that smile, however briefly it appeared.

They wandered in silence up the path, lined by trees here, flowerbeds there. Leaves had turned yellow and the grass was edged with brown, but the roses were still in bloom. Crowley paused to pluck a particularly well-formed bud.

As they crossed a bridge over a small watercourse, Aziraphale suddenly said, “Do you think it’s true, though? That — that treatise? Because it rather sounds like he didn’t see any difference between lust and love.”

“Mmh.” Crowley paused, gazing downstream, where a group of ducks swam contentedly. “As a demon? Yeah. Fits the party line. Humans don’t think of anything but their own pleasure, always wanting what they don’t have. Jealous, possessive, until something better comes along. Then it starts all over. If love and lust aren’t the same, well, they’re pretty close, right?”

“I see.” Aziraphale stepped beside him, holding out his red cap, now filled with grains of barley and cracked corn. They each took a handful and tossed it down. The ducks swam over eagerly, bobbing to catch the seeds before they drifted away.

“But as a being who’s been in the world nearly six thousand years?” Crowley threw another handful, then leaned against the railing, crossing his arms. “Not so sure. Humans do too much that can’t be explained by simple pleasure. Besides, I’ve seen what they do when overwhelmed by lust, and what they do when overwhelmed by love and…dunno. S’not the same.”

More handfuls of grains as a second group of ducks approached.

“What d’you think, Angel?” Crowley prodded. “Must be something in all those books you read.”

“Oh, quite a lot,” Aziraphale assured him. “Much of it contradictory. Many poets will only talk about their beloved’s face, or eyes, but if it were simply a matter of beauty, surely everyone would fall in love with the same beauties.”

“Sometimes they do.” Crowley rolled some seeds between his palms. “S’where the jealousy comes in. But yeah. Gotta be more to it than that.”

“I hope you’re not planning to make those poor ducks sink.”

“What? Nk — no. Course not.” He threw the grains down and the ducks quickly swarmed, turning bright shades of pink and blue and violet as they ate.

“Crowley.”

“Oh, it’s not hurting anyone.” He glanced sideways to see Aziraphale pressing his lips together, struggling not to smile. Grinning, Crowley tossed down more enchanted grains. “Go on then.”

“Hmm? Ah, yes. Well, the overall impression is that love is…transformative. Changes the way one thinks and feels at all times. They speak of, oh, the sun shining brighter, foods tasting sweeter, winter blossoming into summer. Metaphors. Others speak of — of attraction, quickened pulse, sudden heat and so on, but that’s a passing thing, part of a — a particular moment of closeness. Surely, no human could maintain such a state for an hour, never mind weeks or years!” Aziraphale offered Crowley the last handful of grain in his cap. “And once that moment passes…”

“Back to the metaphors.” The ducks below were now spotted, striped, every color of the rainbow. One bore pure white wings, beside another with midnight black. Aziraphale chuckled, very softly, which made Crowley feel immensely satisfied. Dusting off his hands, he circled the angel and continued walking.

“Yes,” Aziraphale hurried to catch up, cap twisting in his hands. “I get the sense that the feeling is so obvious, so…universal, they never think to describe it.”

“How inconsiderate.” Crowley thought it over. “So, flash of heat, racing heart, sun gets brighter, then ten pages about the color of their eyes? That about it?”

“I suppose so.” Aziraphale rubbed a finger across his lip. “Not always beauty, though. Some appear drawn by their partner’s clever mind, or acts of kindness. Some praise stories of bravery or great deeds, others fixate on meaningless symbols of wealth. But still, those only tell why one falls in love, not what it feels like.”

“Sounds like a sort of obsession.” Crowley furrowed his brow. “That treatise had a list of…sort of rules of love. Mostly about jealousy, really, don’t think the author thought much of women, but… ‘Every action of a lover ends in the thought of his beloved.’”

“I see…so that, together or apart, one cannot help but think always of the other. That certainly aligns with the evidence.” He started to replace his cap, then paused, looking inside. “Anything else of use?”

“‘Love can deny nothing to love.’” Beside him, Aziraphale turned pink and a brilliant smile broke across his face, like the sun after a storm. He pulled from the cap the bright red rosebud Crowley had hidden within.

Crowley watched as Aziraphale slid the flower into his buttonhole, drinking in the way the delighted shiver ran across his shoulders. Then the angel looked up, hitting Crowley with the full force of his smile.

Stunning. Blinding. It stole Crowley’s breath away, wiped every thought from his mind.

One day, that smile would destroy him, and he wouldn’t mind at all.

“So, this creperie — are we close?”

“Ngh. Smh. Unh. Nearly. Another block or two.” The park’s gate stood just ahead, half shut, the bustling street beyond. Crowley quickly stepped ahead, pulling it open for Aziraphale. “You, ah, find the answer you needed?”

“I…think so, yes.” He rested his fingers on the gate — so close to Crowley’s he could feel their warmth — then quickly pulled away, folding his hands behind his back. “I’ve been trying to work out…well…whether I’m in love with you, Crowley.”

“Oh.” What was he supposed to say to that? “Oh.”

“Indeed.” Aziraphale’s eyes darted nervously and he began to pace. “I-I want you to know, I don’t desire you. I’ve never felt that sort of attraction. And I’m not jealous by any means. I’m not even certain who I’m meant to be jealous of. But…” He turned back, tugging his jacket. “I think of you. Constantly. Every action, every experience reminds me of you. I go to a concert, and I can’t concentrate on the music, only whether you would enjoy it. I hear a joke and I imagine how you would laugh, or roll your eyes, and I can’t know a moment’s peace until I’ve shared it with you. And last month…when I was reprimanded…for days afterward I could think of nothing but how I wished you were there. When I finally found the strength to venture out, it was only from my determination to come here.”

“For…crepes?” Crowley offered stupidly.

“No, you silly creature, for you.” He stepped forward, reaching up as if to straighten Crowley’s lapels, but once again his hands dropped. “I hear your voice and no matter how dark my situation — no matter how absurd you look in the current fashion — I just…feel happy again.”

Aziraphale took a deep breath and lifted his eyes — hopeful, fearful, vulnerable — to meet Crowley’s.

“Oh.” Something more was probably needed. “Yeah.”

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say.

“Well.” Aziraphale’s eyes dropped and he turned, trying to hide his expression. “Yes. I thought you should know.” He ducked his head and hurried through the gate. “Where — where is this creperie? We should try to arrive—”

“Me too.”

Crowley hadn’t meant to say anything. His mind was still ten minutes behind, struggling to catch up, but the pain on Aziraphale’s face hurt him like a blow to the chest.

The two words stopped Aziraphale in his tracks.

“I…I think about you, too.” Crowley stepped halfway through the gate, gripping the bar so tight it began to bend. “When I wake up, or fall asleep and…and away from you, here, I just…I miss you…but you — you idiot, with your crepes and your — your execution and…and then you smile and I just…” Blast! How could Aziraphale be so eloquent? Crowley swallowed and started over. “Look, m’trying to say…don’t think I can deny you anything. And. If that’s love…yeah. Me too.”

All this time, Aziraphale stood perfectly still, his back to Crowley. But now he turned, blue eyes furiously blinking. “That’s…ah…thank you. I know y-you hate being thanked but…” Aziraphale took one step closer, then another, until only inches separated them. “Thank you.”

“Nh.” He could so easily reach across that last bit of distance. Crowley didn’t know what that would accomplish, what he’d even do, but he wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything. “Now what?”

“I don’t know.” Aziraphale’s gaze fell. “It…doesn’t change anything, does it? You’re still a demon, and I’m—”

“I don’t care,” Crowley hissed, shocked at the fervor in his own voice. “We don’t need to play by their rules. We could — run off, or—”

“We can’t. Crowley, both our sides would — they’d find us, they’d destroy you.”

“I’m willing to risk it.” He reached for Aziraphale’s hand.

“I’m not.” The angel jerked back, putting more distance between them, eyes wide. “Crowley that’s — that’s not a chance I’m willing to take. I’m sorry, but no.”

“Fine,” Crowley growled, pulling away. “What do you want?”

“I want…” Aziraphale shut his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. “I want a shop in London, where I can surround myself with books and foods and everything I enjoy. I want my superiors to trust me, let me bring good into the world my own way, without sending me all over Creation at a moment’s notice and — and punishing me for a few miracles to make my life easier. I want us to go to plays and gardens and balls together, not for clandestine meetings but because we enjoy them. To be openly in each other’s company, without fear of reprisal. And…I’d like you to visit my shop and bring me flowers or sweets. I’d serve my very best wine and…we’d talk all night about…everything and nothing. And laugh together.” His eyes fluttered open and for the first time Aziraphale looked sure of himself. “I want what we already have. Only I want more of it.”

This time he didn’t move as Crowley reached out. Long fingers carefully adjusted the rosebud, standing it straighter in its buttonhole. “Yeah. I…I’d like that, too.”

“And you don’t want anything…physical?”

Crowley snorted. “M’not a human.” But he wondered if Aziraphale’s cheek was as soft as the rosebud’s petals. “I’d like to touch you. Your hand, your face. Your wings. Hear your voice as I fall asleep. Feel your fingers in my hair. Is that…too much?”

“No.” Aziraphale smiled gently. “That sounds perfect.”

“Maybe…” Crowley fidgeted with his glasses, shuffled his feet, but refused to step away. “If we’re careful…”

“The Arrangement is already dangerous enough. You must understand…”

Crowley closed his eyes. “I do. Nothing changes.” Except there were words now, to the feeling he had when he thought of his angel. And that changed everything. When he looked again, Aziraphale nodded, as if he felt the same.

“Right then.” Crowley circled around Aziraphale, sauntering back to the main road. “Let’s see if these crepes are worth risking the guillotine.”

“My dear fellow,” Aziraphale easily kept pace. “One bite of true Breton crepes will silence your doubts forever.”

“Breton, huh?”

“Oh, yes, far superior to any others.”

“If that’s so,” Crowley smirked, remembering Aziraphale in his cell, “s’a wonder you came to Paris. Particularly in such a…controversial outfit.”

“The city has…certain other attractions.”

Something warm and heavy wrapped across Crowley’s shoulders, invisible to his eyes, though he could feel the individual feathers tickle his neck. Aziraphale strolled beside him, hands clasped behind his back, eyes forward, as if nothing were amiss.

Carefully, trying to look natural, Crowley scratched his shoulder, brushing his knuckles down a long flight feather, softer than any mortal bird’s.

Aziraphale smiled ever so slightly and flexed his wing, holding Crowley a little more tightly. An embrace that no one could see, no one could know about, except them.

“Dunno,” Crowley said. “Still seems pretty risky.”

“Yes. But I’m an incorrigible old fool. Sometimes I can’t help myself.”

“Suppose I can understand,” Crowley said as he extended his own wing, wrapping it around Aziraphale’s waist. The angel’s composure broke as he wiggled, burying himself in invisible feathers. Crowley smiled, heat running through him, a warm spring day after a long cold winter. “After all, we’re not so different, you and I.”

[1] De Amore, Andreas Capellanus, c. 1190

So happy to finally share this!

[un2-verse]

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (1)

》 News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right? 《

pairings: john kramer!taehyung x female reader

warnings: dark themes, angst, yandere, murder, torture, self harm, suicide, stalking etc.... (will add more when i know lol) although it is rather innocent in the first couple chapters(?) so idk it could be slow burn but i guess we’ll find out as i write it >< ,, it’s my version of saw if saw was a fucked up love story lol. Please don’t read if any of the topics mentioned trigger you!! 18+

this fic is exactly that, fiction!!!! the au does not represent the characters mentioned irl......

synopsis: you end up lost on the other side of town, where you cross paths with a handsome stranger, kim taehyung, only.... are you a stranger to him?

[a/n: daffodils represent; love me, sympathy, desire and affection returned...]

word count: 3k

series masterlist

part two

——————————————————————————

Hiding behind a mask was something you were accustomed to. Your friend group and family were clueless to the torment you endured from simply existing. You were confident your masking had convinced the world you were happy with yourself. Unbeknown to you, one other person saw straight through your façade.

You wanted to end your life.

He needed you to cherish your life.

Nothing looked familiar. The café you frequented was nowhere to be found. Your usual hangout was most definitely not on the side of town you found yourself in. You felt anxiety slowly curl its way around your body, you were frigid. You tried and tried but couldn’t find it in yourself to run.

You lived in the more friendly part of town (so to speak) – where houses were colourful, gardens pristine, warm-hearted neighbours who would treat you like family and white picket fences are what surrounded you. That was your norm, sure, you weren’t exactly loaded but you weren’t exactly poor either. It was a healthy balance in the middle. That’s not to say you hadn’t lived or seen this side of town before.

Your Mother and Father had grown up on this side of the fence. Two young people brought up in the rougher, more unfortunate areas. Your Mother was tough; she looked like a naïve, weak girl, albeit that was not the case. She was strong willed, used to life on the streets and doing anything she could to get money to make sure there was at least some food on the table. While your Mum was the leader, your Dad was more of a sheep. He was easily influenced and was dragged into the wrong crowd (had his fair share with drugs and street racing). That was their life for a few years till they crossed paths and your Mum helped your Dad get back on the right track.

They didn’t tell you much about their childhood and adolescence but they told you enough to make you appreciate what you have and to always work hard for it. To stick with the right people, be wise and conscious of your decisions. Be kind to those around you.

Your family owned a garage; your Dad was the head mechanic. This was the sole reason you were here. You knew it wouldn’t be simple when you agreed to go to this side of town to get a few bits for your Father’s shop. However, you didn’t expect it to be this difficult. How could you be so stupid? Why didn’t you just ask Hoseok and Yoongi to come with you like your father told you to? Or at least tell them where you were… yet you decided today of all days to be stubborn and venture on yourself, knowing full well how unsafe the area was. There were rundown businesses on either side of the road, beggars at every doorstep; drug dealings happening in broad daylight, no one even trying to hide it.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, you took it out and sighed a breath of relief once you’d read the texts.

14:37— From Papa: U ok munchkin ??? Did u get the stuff ?

14:39— From Papa: its ok if u didnt. Yoongs rang said hes got majority this morning lol so be safe n get home soon . Love u

14:40— To Papa: ohhh ok pops, i couldn’t find the shop anyway lol i’ll head back soon, love u too x

*LOW BATTERY*

“Fuck, trust me to forget to charge the bastard.” You rolled your eyes as you stuffed the phone back in your pocket.

Muffled shouting was heard around you. People ran across the street, bumping into you as they ran past. You gathered yourself and moved further down the path. “Great!” you exasperated, “honestly I’m so fucking stupid! Yoongi’s gonna kill me for this, I knew, I knew I should’ve told him I was coming over here but no,” your head was hung low as you dragged your feet across the pavement, “maybe I could tell Hobi, he wouldn’t be as angry right? I’m sure he’ll come,“ A sudden scream ripped you out of your chuntering. You whipped your head to the right, you could make out some figures bustling about in front of you, a group of men were quite clearly fighting… your anxiety struck you and you held your breath as you saw a man pull a knife from the waistband of his sweatpants. All thoughts and common sense seemed to leave all at once. Statue like, feet stuck to the ground. You watched on as the group rushed towards the brown haired man, you scanned his figure: tall, broad, confident… he exuded an intimidating aura even when you were this far away from him.

How could someone be so sure of themselves? It was one against five, surely the loner had no chance?

The glistening of the knife brought you back to your senses. Fucking hell. How do you always end up in these situations when you’re alone? Why me? Why? Good Lord, I need to run. Just as you were about to leave, the group who were arguing charged past you; one gripped his side as another supported his weight. Holy fuck, did he stab him? you stood frozen, yet again, your mind raced a mile a minute. Panic bubbled in your chest.

“You okay there Doll?” His voice was deep, velvet-like. It flowed so smoothly you doubted it was real, it was so soothing like it had wrapped itself around you, embracing your body. You heard his footsteps before he planted himself beside you. His shoulder reached the top of your head, his hand brushed yours. Swallowing your nerves you dared a glance up. He was fucking breath-taking, like a fallen angel. The stranger shot you a small smile that you would’ve easily missed had you not been staring at his features… a blush crept up your neck as you nodded. His smile slowly twisted into a smirk.

Cute, Taehyung thought to himself. Couldn’t help but adore the way you slightly trembled under his gaze, the way your hands gripped and twisted your sweater paws. Almost like a puppy. He cleared his throat and reached his hand to yours, “Sorry, I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Taehyung.” you took his hand into yours, apprehensively you greeted him, “I’m Y/N.”

“Ah, Y/N. I haven’t seen you round here before, you new or something?” Taehyung cocked his head to the side, his eyes seemed to stare right through you.

“Uhm, I don’t live here. I live over the other part of Town… I was just grabbing some stuff for my Dad but, my phones about to die. I have no idea where I am or how to get home, I’m sorry, I promise I didn’t see anything!” a deep chuckle cut you off, Taehyung smiled and beckoned you to follow him.

“Come on Y/N, you’re not suited for this side of Town, I’ll walk you back. A pretty little thing like you, you’re easy prey to these guys.” your feet fell into a cautious pace behind him, he glanced over his shoulder, “hurry up Buttercup, I don’t bite.” Taehyung flashed a boxy grin in your direction, which caused you to speed up ever so slightly.

You were unsure how you felt about letting a complete stranger walk you home, Yoongi would definitely kill you for this. Especially with the recent news of some serial killer named ‘Jigsaw’, Yoongi and Hoseok had been very stern and their usual, overprotective selves when the news had broken out. “It’s on every headline Y/Nie! No more leaving the house on yourself, you need to go anywhere you ring either of us. Got it? Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know either. There’s some dodgy fucks about recently.” Although, you loved them dearly, sometimes their protectiveness was a...little overbearing. You already felt suffocated from your parents (you didn’t need it from your best friends as well). They were happy and believed you to be too; but that was exhausting, faking happiness. You had a constant façade, acted like a happy normal teenager with a happy family; when that was far from the truth.

Drowning. That’s how you’d explain the way you felt. Breathing was difficult and brought you more pain than it was worth. Growing up was tedious, you had grown differently to your peers which only brought ridicule and embarrassment for you. You had struggled with your speech (sometimes you still do), you often stuttered, mispronounced words, the list was endless. That was one of the first reasons you were a castaway. As you grew, the ridicule worsened. Verbal abuse turned physical from your classmates. They made you feel like you were a waste of space. The names they called you, you soon started to believe them. Ugly. Weird. Freak. Stupid. They took root in your brain, slowly they grew and grew till your head was overgrown with twisted, rotten weeds.

Eventually, you sought comfort in blood. You didn’t care that it hurt you; you were almost happy to feel pain. Like you deserved to.

By age 14, you had started to skip school. Only ever there for exams and a couple of art classes you had with Jeongguk. He was what you would’ve called a best friend, he supported you and was by your side till you left school. He went away to college and like always with school friends, you drifted apart. Nevertheless, he still texts you now and then to check in.

Although you were (once) close with Jeongguk. He never knew of your inner demons, the same with Yoongi and Hoseok. You didn’t want to feel like a burden and worry your friends when they had shit to worry about themselves.

Why devastate flowers that flourish beautifully with weeds that manage to twist their way around every crack?

You had walked for a few minutes now, having chatted absentmindedly about anything and everything. The roads still didn’t look familiar to you and you just wished they did, you didn’t want to be away from your home any longer, your feet were starting to ache, your phone was on 10% battery and it was fucking cold. You just wanted to be back in bed tucked up watching Lady and the Tramp or 101 Dalmatians for the millionth time. You felt safe and content when you indulged in your comfort films. Far away from the real world and wrapped up in the false reality. They easily distracted you and that's when you truly felt at peace. Your mind was always too busy thinking about how cute it was when Tramp calls Lady, Pidge or how in love Pongo and Perdy were.

Majority of the time you fantasised about having a love similar, but then again, why would you wanna make yourself vulnerable like that? Is the risk of being hurt (more than you are now) any good? Of course it’s not. Fuck that, life isn’t nothing like those shitty romance films or novels… It’s real and painful.

As you and Taehyung rounded the corner, a little cafe caught your eye, a dainty blue and pink building. Fairy Lights strung up around the windows, you could see a handful of people inside, busy sipping their drinks and chatting away to one another. ‘Aroma Mocha’ hung above the doors. It looked so cute and simple. Your previous thoughts left your mind as quick as they had come. You wanted to go inside, it had an enticing atmosphere.

Taehyung hadn’t realised you’d stopped walking until he couldn’t hear the soft thud of your footsteps behind him, he turned as he called out to you, your eyes still fixed on the cafe. He chuckled to himself, “Fucking adorable, like a kid at christmas,” he walked back over to you. “Hey Doll, you wanna go in?” He felt his heart quicken when you looked at him with those pretty eyes, “We’ve plenty of time to get you back before it’s dark angel.” You answered him with a nod as you turned your head from Taehyung to look back at the alluring little cafe.

Not a second had passed before Taehyung grabbed your hand and pulled you across the road to the entrance; you ignored the warmth of his hand as it intertwined with yours; you ignored the way your tummy erupted with butterflies. Taehyung had stopped to hold the door for you, you murmured a small, “thank you,” looking up at him, the heat that crept up your cheeks making your face resemble that of a doll’s he thought to himself. Once he ushered you fully inside, he placed his hand to rest on the curve of your waist as he guided you to the back corner of the room, where a quaint table for two was unoccupied, a little pot of Daffodils sat atop. How fitting...

Taehyung was quick to pull the chair out for you to take a seat, you pulled it in as you sat down and sent a shy smile his way, “I’m sorry, I know we just met Taehyung but this place is so fucking precious! I hope I’m not bothering you, if I am we can just carry on walking or, I could ring a Taxi? Is this weird? Oh god, I can’t believe--”, Taehyung threw his head back as he laughed, a sound that seemed to wrap its way around your soul, twisting around your heart in the nicest of ways, it was almost like a killer to the weeds taking over your body. A temporary release. You felt like you could really breathe in those short seconds of his laughter.

“Angel, if you were bothering me, I’d have kept on walking. That, or I would’ve called you a Taxi myself, it’s no problem honestly.” You ducked your head as he sent a wink your way, fuck sake Y/N get it together! Why are you acting like a fucking schoolgirl?

“Well I uh, appreciate it so, yeah thank you?” You don’t know what to do, you’re here with the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid your eyes on… yet you have no clue if what you saw was real, did Taehyung stab someone? Could someone have had the knife who wasn’t Taehyung? Was he even the person you saw in that altercation? Did you imagine everything that had gone off?

Before you had chance to overthink it, a light bubbly voice greeted your ears, “Hi! Welcome to Aroma Mocha, I’m Jimin and I’ll be your server today. Is there anything I can get you?” Jimin held his gaze on you as he flashed you a friendly smile, Taehyung turned around at the sound of his best friend, “Oh, Tae! I wasn’t expecting to see you today, what are you doing here? And who’s this pretty little lady?”

“This is Y/Nie, she was in the neighbourhood so we thought we’d nip in for something to drink before I take her back to hers.” you sent a warm smile to Jimin which he gladly returned, “I’ll have my usual and can you get Y/Nie a Strawberry Iced Tea? Thanks man.”

Once Jimin had disappeared to make your drinks, you shot your eyes to Taehyung, “Uhm, how’d you know I like Strawberry Iced Tea?” Taehyung didn’t even look in your direction as he scrolled through his phone, eyes glued to the screen. A minute passed by and he’d still not acknowledged your question so you let it slide, it wasn’t that big of a deal right? Your mind drifted. Your fingers rested atop of your lap, hidden from the sight of onlookers, picking around your nails as anxiety flooded your body. You felt like you were about to suffocate. You shouldn’t be talking to anyone, you shouldn’t let anyone close. You were only going to fuck everything up in a heartbeat. It’s only natural. Self deprecating thoughts devoured and made their way through your veins, poisoning yourself further; your whole body felt as though it was alight.

Jimin brought you your drinks, placed them carefully in front of the pair of you as you both said your thanks.

The click of Taehyung’s phone being locked and the clearing of his throat brought you back to your senses. “The drink I ordered for you is popular here so, I assumed you’d like to try it. You wanna talk about what’s bothering you?” your eyes shot up to meet his, your head tilted a little to the left as your tongue wet your lip, so puppy like...

You stared incredulously, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Taehyung.” You leant forward slightly as you wrapped your lips around the straw and took a sip.

Taehyung saw the way you sucked your drink up through your straw, his eyes darkened. Thankful to have worn sweatpants that day, he shifted himself discreetly, “I’m not stupid Angel, I know what you’re doing under the table. I’m here, so talk to me. I’ll listen to whatever you gotta say.”

You stuttered as you wracked your brain for something to say, “I-I only met you like forty minutes ago, I don’t even tell my friends what’s wrong. Not that there is, everything’s fine.”

You met me just short of an hour ago, he thought to himself, “You don’t have to lie to me Y/Nie…” he grabbed your hands that were laid near the cup of your Iced Tea. His thumb rubbing circles onto the back of your hand. You looked small and fragile, like the Daffodils on the table; one little pluck and you’d be ruined. He wouldn’t admit it to you just yet but, Taehyung fucking loved how delicate you seemed as you sat across from him.

How easy it would be to take your life away. How easy it’d be to pull those weeds up that are poisoning you, torturing you every single day. He shook his head, as he cleared those thoughts. No, only Y/N can make that decision. I’m just going to help her choose.

Live or Die.

You visibly winced, “You don’t know me. Think whatever the fuck you want about me, it doesn’t matter.” your eyes flashed hurt as you went back to picking your skin. You knew it, this whole encounter was too good to be true. A complete stranger (well acquaintance technically) had just presumed shit about you, the fact he was right is what hurt more. You didn’t want anyone to know how you were feeling. Or how you were dealing with it.

You couldn’t exactly tell him to piss off, you still needed his help home and so you tried to distract yourself from the unsettling gaze that watched your every move. You let out a breath as Taehyung went back to his phone. Your eyes drifted as you picked up the local Newspaper, your eyes skimmed over the headline, ‘Jigsaw Traps Continue’. Taehyung noticed you staring at the front page, and chuckled, “you scared of Jigsaw Angel?”

You shook your head, why would you be scared of some nutjob who’s targeted criminals and drug dealers? You’re a nobody. “Of some psychopathic puppet?” if anyone did anything to you that would threaten your life, it would be you. Taehyung just laughed in return as you skipped the article and skim-read the other pointless stories.

You were fucking clueless as to who he was while he knew every little thing about you. He had watched you for months… His precious little Y/Nie… Oh how silly you were, taking your life for granted.

You hated yourself that much, you were willingly marking yourself up. Tainting your skin… oh your skin, how fucking beautiful and soft it looked, even with all the scars it still looked perfect… Taehyung wanted nothing more than to whisk you away and lock you inside with him. Forever. He didn’t want anyone touching what was his.

He knew you wore a mask when in public, too afraid to show your real self. Little did you know, he wore a mask himself...only he wore it to better other people.

He had a plan.

And you’d soon find out.

Let the games begin.

[softmothprince]

i rewatched angels of death with friends the other day so i blame that

also this is, like, five pages. 2,659 words. so it’s a long ride. enjoy <3

-----------------------------

Her eyes twitch as she keeps from them from rolling, face blank as she stares at the smug bastard in front of her. For the past… whatever time, he’s been standing in front of her and babbling about some kind of bullshit she totally wasn’t paying attention to. She just wanted to take the stuff she bought and go home, where her psycho waits.

While it would be so easy to just shut him down and walk out, everytime she tries to back out of the conversation he just keeps bringing up more questions and random shit. It’s when he tries to pull off what he thinks as a sly move that she finally was done with that and everything to do with this.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees his hand move, realizing what he wanted to try and do when it slid closer to hers. In one swift move, she pulls her hand from the counter and shoves them into her shorts pockets, giving the guy a disgruntled look. Her shopping bag dangles from one wrist, crinkling as it taps against her thigh.

“Even though this was so ‘fun’, I got better things to do than this.” She says, turning on her heel to walk away- only to be stopped when she sees a familiar man waiting across the street.

While hidden by the shadows, she can easily recognize the bandages on his hands and peeking out of his hoodie. She heaves a sigh, rubbing the back of her neck, before exiting the store. She ties the bag closed and lets it hang from her fingers, jogging across the street and towards the waiting man.

“Hey, I thought you-!” She’s cut off when he abruptly stands up straight and jerks towards her.

A strong hand grabs her arm and easily swings her into the alley, tugging her a good few feet away and around a corner before letting go. She stares at his back silently, watching his shoulders slowly move with his breathing, then opens her mouth to say- His palm suddenly slams into the bricks, startling her into jumping back and yelping.

He moved so fast she didn’t see him turn around and become so… close. She looks up at him, eyes widening at the wide grin he wore. While similar to his usual grin, something about it was more… heated. His other hand is loosely holding his scythe (she hadn’t seen it when she first spotted him- he must’ve had it in the alley), mostly resting it on his shoulder with the stained blade reflecting the light.

The wall is hard, cold and unforgiving on her back, but she ignores it in favour of the hand suddenly grabbing around her throat. She gasps, sucking in air quickly in case he decided to tighten his grip and choke her.

“Come on, little bitch. Who’s your daddy?” He growls into her ear, scraping the shell with his teeth and nips at it. His eyes narrow at her silence, making him lean in enough that their noses touch. “I said- who’s. Your. Daddy?”

“Can’t seem to- ugh, to recall anyone.” She gasps, mouth dropping open when he squeezes her neck tighter. “Agh- Isaac-”

“Aww, poor little bitch doesn’t remember. It seems like I’ll have to… remind you.”

With one final squeeze, he feels her fluttering pulse for a moment longer before letting it trail off of her completely. He makes sure to keep eye contact, only letting his gaze travel away when he sees her face turn a dark shade of red. As he turns away to take the familiar walk home, she opens her mouth again.

“You’re being ridiculous, Isaac. You know I belong to you and only you!”

Again, he moves so fast she has to take a step back and somehow presses more into the wall. He doesn’t grab or even touch her, only his breath hitting her face as their noses nearly bump together.

“HE TRIED TO TOUCH YOU!”

Her jaw clenches, bottom lip getting caught by her teeth as she holds back another snarky response. He squeezes the handle of his scythe, using it as an anchor of sorts. To keep him from taking his little bratty bitch right then and there in the alley. As much as he wants to stake his claim, he needs to wait.

With a loud huff through his nose, he spins on his heel and snags the bag she had dropped with two fingers. His shoes scuff against the gravel and stone, kicking them across the path.

“Now let’s go.”

~skip~

It surprises her that they even reached the living room before he pounced. His scythe and the shopping bag is discarded onto the floor as he reaches out and grabs the nape of her neck, dragging her the rest of the way to their room. She nearly trips a few times, but Isaac just jerks her up and pushes her along.

He doesn't even bother to shut the door before he is suddenly ripping and tearing at her clothes. The material of her t-shirt easily rips apart, exposing her skin to his greedy eyes. He wastes no time in running his hands over her breasts and hips, taking care of her shorts next. 

She squeaks and tries to wiggle away while yelling: “Isaac! You can't just-”

“Too bad, you should’ve thought of that before being such a brat.” He grunts, letting the fabric drop onto the floor and going to her panties and bra. “I have no patience for this shit anymore so shut up while I do this.”

“Listen-”

“Like you did with that bastard?”

Her jaw almost clicks with how fast she snaps it closed. When she is finally stripped of all forms of fabric, he sits down and yanks her over his lap.

"Hands under your head."

She swallows, moving her hands from where she was gripping the blankets and crosses them to lay her head on her arms. Without warning, he lands one quick slap onto her ass, gripping the flesh and grins with a cackle when she yelps.

“Now, my little bratty bitch, I’m going to spank you and you are going to count each and every one of them. You misscount? I’ll start over. Give me lip? I start over. You do anything I don’t think is good girl behavior, I start over.” He tilts her head back by grabbing her hair and pulling, leaning over to stare into her glazed over eyes.

“Do you understand my rules?”

“...yes.”

A loud slap, followed by him tugging her hair tighter into his fist.

“Yes. What? Address me properly.”

“Yes, sir.”

He hums, rubbing his hand over the red skin. His finger occasionally pressed onto a dark bruise scattered here and there, remembering when he made those little hickies two days prior. Then, a loud smack echoes around them, being drowned out by her yelp.

"Count."

"O-one."

Smack. 

"Two."

Smack. 

"Thr-ree~"

Her ears ring from the sound of her own voice and the loud slapping of Isaac's palm on her bare ass. She made the mistake of shifting over his lap after counting to ten, resulting in him growling and telling her to start over. There would be no sitting later, she can already tell.

Slap. 

"Tw-twen-twenty…" She gasps, nails digging into her palms.

She waits for another one, but is both relieved and slightly upset that he rolls her off his lap and onto the bed. The cool sheets feel strange on her stinging flesh, but she ignores it as her legs are shoved apart to show her soaked cunt. The inside of her thighs were slick and sticky.

"That really turned you on? What a slut." He scoffs, yet a wide smirk spreads across his face when she whines. "You like being called a slut, huh little bitch? My little slut is more like it."

He trails his fingers up her leg and skirts over her hip bone, pressing his palm against her stomach to hold her down when his other hand toys with her pussy. His fingers slip inside with just a small push, obscene sounds ringing in her ears as he moves them.

“I-Isaac…”

“This cunt is mine, you got that? I caused this mess between your thighs and it’s gonna stay that way.” He purrs, leaning down to cover her nipple with his mouth and strokes his tongue in time with his fingers.

He switches to her other breast as his thumb pushes and rubs her clit, growling in satisfaction when she cries out and bucks her hips up.

“Who do you belong to?” He asks, looking up at her with half-lidded eyes.

She swallows and gasps, before closing her mouth with a bratty grin appearing. Though it quickly vanishes when he roughly scrapes his fingers inside her pussy, aggressively rubbing her g-spot.

“I said: Who. Do. You. Belong. To?”

“Yo-you! Please, pl-EASE~!”

His thumb disappears from her clit and he pulls his fingers out, cutting off any stimulation. He digs his nails into her hips, holding them in place while she spasms and growls at him in frustration. 

“Not good enough, princess. Up.”

He grabs her wrist and tugs her up, making her straddle his hips while he leans back onto the mattress himself. His clothed dick rubs her pussy and clit, the material of his jeans sending jolts up her nerves, before he shoves her to sit on his thighs.

“Go on, my little bitch. Take out my dick.” He purrs, rubbing and squeezing her thighs. Maybe if she was a good girl, he’ll make her sit on his face and suffocate him with those thighs~

She whines, going to grind against his leg- only to be stopped when he lands a slap onto her still stinging ass.

“What did I say? Do it before I leave you to squirm.”

She knows he wouldn’t. They both know he wants to jump her and never stop. So, with a small pout, she unloops his belt and tosses it to the floor, popping the button of his jeans and tugs them and his underwear down his thighs until she can pull his dick out. It’s an angry red, drooling precum down the shaft, bobbing when she gently touches it.

As she goes to try and stroke it, he grabs her wrist with a narrow glare. It’s a silent threat, but she picks it up easily and nods with another pout. Her knees sink into the bed as she rises up on them, moving to angle his cock head with her hole. Swallowing the saliva threatening to drool out, she slowly lowers down.

His cock pushes through with little to no difficulty, rubbing all the right places. Before reaching the hilt, she stops and pulls her head out from his shoulder, looking into his eyes with a slightly uncomfortable look.

“Isaac it- I can’t-”

“Come on, you can take it.” He grumbles, digging his fingers into her hip and forces her the rest of the way down. The sudden rough thrust almost makes her cum, but his strength keeps her from moving. “You cum right now, I will put you over my knee again.” Isaac’s teeth abuse the shell of her ear, nibbling enough that teeth marks appear.

He bites the crook of her neck next, before tangling his fingers into her hair to pull her backwards. This allows him to lean down and nibble around her breasts, moaning into the valley between them.

“Fuck, I love your tits. I love how they look with my teeth and marks all over them~”

“With how often you bite me, they never look diffe-RENT!”

She chokes on her words when he suddenly lifts her up and drops her back down, slamming his cock deep inside her.

“What was that, little bitch? Got something to say? Go on, say it.” He mumbles against her chest, picking her up again and letting her fall back down.

Her mouth drops open, the only sounds pouring out being moans and curses. He is easily reminded why his favorite sound is her choking out his name.

“That- ugh, that the best you go-got?” She pants, squealing when he suddenly grabs her throat again.

He falls back flat onto the bed, pulling her with him and forcing the angle of his cock to change. And if the loud sob she let out tells him anything, he found that little spot of nerves.

“You may be on top, but-” He jerks her down more, brushing their lips together with a manic grin. “I still own you. Your heart, mind, body- everything is mine.”

She can hear her response in her head, but all that comes out of her mouth is a loud sob followed by begging. Isaac turns his head away, choosing to focus on the skin of her neck that isn’t covered by his hand. He sucks and nips at the supple flesh, traveling down to her collarbone and shoulder.

His teeth sink into her shoulder, making her throw her head back with a loud sob. The hands around her neck and hip are so tight she can feel the bruises already, yet the sting from his bite overpowers them. 

“Mineminemineminemi-MINE!” His voice cracks when he cums, hips faltering for only a moment before going back to the brutal pace. “Take it- take my cum. Take all of it. I’m gonna stuff you so there is no denying who you belong to. You’ll be dripping for days.”

The deep groans rumbling from his chest occasionally hitch into a higher tone, before dropping back down. Once satisfied, he slows his thrusts until he finally just presses their hips together, sitting still. They both shake and breathe heavily, fingers unclenching from bruised and bleeding skin, rubbing the spots silently.

With a soft, slightly higher groan, he pulls out and briefly sits up to look between her legs. Her pussy is swollen and red, drooling a mix of their cum onto the bed. He lets out a satisfied sigh, running a hand through his hair and tugging at it as he looks around the room.

When he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, Isaac stands from the bed and leaves his girl trembling and still riding her high. She hums and curls her fingers into the blankets, letting the soft material ground her. The mattress dips again, alerting her of his presence.

His fingers gently tap her thigh, warning her before he presses a wet cloth to the sensitive flesh. Small sighs pour out from her lips, her head rolling around when the cloth pushes against her clit. She barely registers him moving her around, feeling him slip a shirt over her head and a pair of panties up her legs.

The warmth of his body disappears and she feels the bed move as he gets up again, before it sinks beside her and a soft blanket is tugged over her body. The feeling of Isaac touching her cheek makes her eyes flutter open, finding said man (now in his lounging clothes) laying next to her silently.

His eyes look over her face, taking in the sweat and red flush. Without a word, he leans in and presses his forehead against hers, trailing his hand from her face to gently stroking her pulse with his thumb. He could easily choke her like this, see the light disappear from her eyes as she struggles-

He tilts his head, laying his lips softly over hers and huffs in amusement when she mumbles incoherently. Her fingers curl loosely around his wrist, holding it in place around her throat. A silent form of trust. He snorts, moving to grab her hand and lifts it to his lips to press a kiss to it, before curling his arms around her.

“Brat.” He whispers, hiding his face into her hair.

She smiles, nuzzling into his collarbone.

“I’m your brat. Don’t forget it.”

[marshmallow-phd]

Book of the Dead

Genre: The Mummy AU

Pairing: Junmyeon x Reader

Summary: After traveling to the fabled city of Hamunaptra, you read from the Book of the Dead and accidentally resurrect an ancient mummy with extraordinary powers and quest for revenge. The only thing to do now is try and convince your less-than-traditional guide to help you save the world.

Part 1 I Part 2

**

You ran up the smooth stone steps as quickly as your night dress would allow. If only you had had the time to change into something a bit more practical. Unfortunately, the immortal, god-like mummy that was currently lighting the city of Cairo up with the ten plagues of Egypt was exactly willing to pause for you to put on a different outfit. 

“Run this by me one more time?” Baekhyun huffed a few stairs behind. 

Rolling your eyes, you said again, “We’re going to read the stone with the inscription of the location of the book of the living. Once I translate its location, we’ll head back to Hamunaptra, retrieve it, and send Mr. Bones back to the underworld.”

“You really need to work on the nicknames,” Junmyeon grumbled as he placed a hand on your lower back to urge you upwards at a faster pace. 

“Sorry that my sarcastic wit doesn’t work best under pressure.”

“Trust me, it hasn’t been working with or without the pressure.”

You shot the soldier a dirty look, which only led to you tripping over your own feet. Junmyeon caught you before your knees could meet the edge of the last step. Looking up at him, you opened your mouth, whether to say thank you or to release another sharp remark, you weren’t sure. Those stupid brown eyes were scrambling the thought pathways in your brain. But thankfully, one thing was able to connect and bring back your focus. 

“The stone!”

A large black stone taller than you and wider than your forearm sat to the right of the staircase, a block of polished wood at the base keeping it upright and away from the wall. You ripped out of Junmyeon’s grasp and scrambled for the stone. Your eyes scanned the hieroglyphics. A few feet away, Baekhyun was half bent over in an effort to regulate his breathing. 

“Can you do that a little quieter?” you gritted between your teeth as your fingers slid over the etched surface of the stone. 

“It wasn’t that many stairs,” Sehun said. 

“Sorry, not all of us are as athletic as the muscled up soldiers over here.” Baekhyun hooked a thumb towards Junmyeon, who was hardly paying attention as he stared out the open balcony. Baekhyun and Sehun joined him, the former then gulped. “You might want to hurry up over there.”

“Patience is a virtue,” you sang. 

“Not right now it isn’t,” Junmyeon mumbled grimly. 

That was when you heard it. 

Hundreds of voices chanting in unison. 

“Imhotep. Imhotep. Imhotep. Imhotep.” Over and over in monotone sounds, growing closer and louder. 

Oh, shit.

“I hate to agree, but yes, faster would be better,” Professor Bey urged. 

His power was growing. Fast. You buckled down, translating the pictures into the ancient language and then again into your own tongue. 

“They’ve become his slaves,” Ardeth said with more morbidness than you previously thought possible. 

“A side effect of the boils and sores, I’m sure,” Baekhyun said, not helping. Another plague down. The final one, if your counting was correct.

Block them out. You needed to block all of them out. “Alright, so according to the Bembridge scholars, the gold book of Amun-Ra is located in the statue of Anubis.”

“But we found the black book there instead,” said one of the Americans. 

Baekhyun moved to your side. “So, they were wrong?”

“Obviously.” Arrogant men who thought you didn’t have enough experience to join their society. “They mixed up where they were buried. So if that was where the black book was located….”

A crash. The front doors of the museum must have been breached. 

“I got it! The golden book is located inside the statue of Horus!” You slapped the rock with your hand in victory. “Take that, Bembridge bastards!”

“Alright then, let’s run!” Baekhyun took your hand and hurried you down the hall while the others stayed close at your heels. Down the stairs and through a back corridor, you were able to make it to the car while avoiding the mind controlled citizens. Safety be damned, you all piled on one another into the topless car as Baekhyun turned over the engine and gunned it. Hordes of the poor men chasing you poured out of the doors of the museum and managed to keep up with the four wheeled vehicle that now raced through the dirt streets in the dark. Junmyeon remained on the trunk of the car, reloading his gun and punching anyone who was able to get close enough. 

“Those are innocent people!�� you yelled over all the noise.

“Yeah, well, right now, it’s us or them!” Junmyeon kicked one off but lost his balance in the meantime. He nearly fell into the crowd before you were able to grab his arm and yank him down. “Thanks,” he muttered mere inches from your face before clearing his throat and righting himself. On his other side, Sehun was fighting along with Ardeth to keep you all from being overrun. Imhotep must have been able to give the controlled men advanced abilities. An unfortunate event. 

But right when you thought that you might be able to get away, several men climbed onto one of the Americans and they all fell from the car, lost in the crowd. Without thinking, the other yelled and then jumped after his friend. And then he was gone, too. 

“Crap.”

“Rest in peace, old chaps,” Baekhyun murmured, looking over his shoulder. And then crashed the car. 

“Baekhyun!” you shouted angrily. Junmyeon hoisted you out of the car, not wasting a moment, but the six of you were trapped. The mind controlled men were coming at you from all three streets. You were blocked in against one of the walls of the city. 

“It's the creature,” Professor Bey whispered. You frowned, unable to see past the ones that surrounded the group. Then you saw him. 

Imhotep. 

“He’s fully regenerated.”

Not a single spec of mummified skin remained. He’d gotten to the Americans. 

Stepping closer as the crowd pushed in, he started speaking in the ancient language, lapdog Beni right behind. 

“Come with me, my princess,” Beni translated with a false sense of superiority. “It is time to make you mine. Forever.”

You scoffed. “For all eternity. Idiot.”

Imhotep spoke again, this time with his hand outstretched.

“Take my hand and I shall spare your friends.”

You looked around for any chance of escape. There was none. “Just wonderful.” You turned to Junmyeon, who was slowly putting himself between you and the mummy. “Any good ideas?”

His face was twisted and his eyes darted from left to right. “I’m thinking. I’m thinking.” 

“Good. Keep thinking and think of something fast. Because if he turns me into a mummy, you’re the first one I’m coming after.”

Junmyeon’s eyes snapped to you, wide with shock. “No!” But you were out of arm’s reach before he could stop you. He pulled a gun and pointed it at Imhotep, ready to fire. Sehun and Ardeth both managed to stop him. 

“He has to take me to Hamunaptra,” you explained. “In order to perform the ritual.” With your eyes, you tried to add in the rest. Follow us there, get the book, and I’ll read it. 

“She’s got a point,” Sehun said. “If we live today, we can fight tomorrow.”

Junmyeon hesitated, then lowered his gun. You held his gaze, trying to let him know silently what you were feeling in this moment. That you were glad to have met him. And you wished the two of you had more time. 

“We’ll see each other again,” he promised. 

With an arm around your shoulders, Imhotep led you away. The sound of Junmyeon saying your name reached your ears and you almost ran back to him. 

“Hey, that’s mine!” Baekhyun yelled. Running up next to you, Beni tossed the octagonal key to the books in the air. Well, that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. 

Gripping your arm tighter, Imhotep gave out one final order. “Kill them all!”

“No!” You fought and kicked and tugged to get away. “Let go of me! Junmyeon! Baekhyun!” It was no use. As you looked back behind you, all you could see was the crowd closing in on them. 

**

You traveled for what felt like hours in the sandstorm of Imhotep. When you were finally deposited onto the sand, rolling in it from the momentum and getting it everywhere, you managed to open your eyes and see where he had decided to stop. You were right outside of the city of the dead. You were back. 

A loud buzzing noise caught your attention. Looking up into the sky, you saw an old fashioned pedal plane carrying more people than it was built for. You smile. “Mr. Kim.”

After walking a few paces ahead, Imhotep raised his arms and called up a sandstorm so large, it blocked out the sky. Forming into a face, it ruched at the tiny plane. And then the storm swallowed it whole. 

“No!”

The sandstorm dissipated and the plane was no longer visible. Imhotep smirked then walked towards the city. You had no choice but to follow. 

You were going to die. 

That didn’t stop you from following the mummy down into the depths of the temple, your glare switching from Imhotep’s back to Beni, who walked beside you. 

“Your face will stay like that,” Beni warned. How childish. 

“And nasty little boys like yourself always get their comeuppance,” you shot back.

Beni stopped in his tracks. “They do?”

You smirked. How stupid. You did believe that he would get his own form of punishment for helping the ancient priest - you just hoped that it was sooner rather than later. 

Down in the main chamber of the temple, a loud noise stopped Imhotep mid chant. Taking one of the sacred jars, he emptied the ash-like substance into his hand and then blew on it, letting the particles drift through the air. Then he spoke out a spell and mummified bodies ripped themselves free from their walled-in prisons, leaving behind deep human-shaped impressions among the hieroglyphics. 

“Kill them and wake the others,” Imhotep ordered. Turning back to you and Beni, he nodded at the latter, who then forced you down onto the stone slab next to a pit that at first you thought was water, but the liquid was too thick and too black, like ink. You were too focused on the substance to notice Imhotep’s hand coming near your face. He spoke a single word and your vision went black. 

It could have only been a minute that you were out, but it was enough time for your wrists and ankles to be tied down and the sacred jars to be lined up against your side.  Seeing a strange lump out of the corner of your left eye, you turned. 

Then screamed. 

The mummified body of who could only have been Anck-Su-Namun was lying right next to you, ready to be revived. You fought and tugged at your restraints, desperate to get away, to put distance between you and the woman who killed the pharaoh. One by one, the resurrected priests circled the slab, fell to their knees, and began chanting as they bowed. Imhotep stepped up, the black book in his hands. He caressed the side of the mummy’s face lovingly. Despite the reality of the situation, a small part of you couldn’t help but be in awe of his devotion. All of this, for his love. 

That didn’t mean you wanted to help. 

“Junmyeon! Baekhyun! Sehun!” One of them. Any of them! Please, just let one of them get in here with the book!

From the pit, the inky substance rose, formless, shapeless as it drifted through the air, over you and settled into the body. Imhotep finished the enchantment and the mummy came to life with a shrieking gasp. It turned and looked at you with knowing eyes. The scream of pure terror was ripped from your throat. 

No, no, no, no!

Appearing on the other side of you, Imhotep said one last time that with your death, Anck-Su-Namun would live. He raised a dagger with both hands and let it hover over your heart for just a beat. 

“I found the book of Amun-Ra! I found it, cousin!” 

Standing at the top of the large stone staircase, Baekhyun waved a giant book of gold over his head, the proudest grin shining from his face, visible even from this distance. 

Imhotep hesitated, lowering the dagger. 

“Fantastic, now shut up and help me off of here!” you shouted back. “You have to open the book! Open it!”

Like in a trance, Imhotep walked around the slab, placing the dagger down next to Anck-Su-Namun, and continued towards the stairs. 

“I can’t open it! It needs the key!”

“His robes!” You motioned towards Imhotep with your head. “It’s in his robes!”

With Imhotep coming closer, Baekhyun took off down the hallway that had led him here. Out of the shadows the opposite way, Junmyeon jumped out, swinging a large golden sword at the priests. Sehun wasn’t far behind with a sword of his own. Toegher, the two of them cut the mummies into pieces. With everyone distracted, you worked at the ropes around your wrists that had loosened in your many struggles, freeing the right one first and then moving onto your ankles. Only the left wrist was left to be freed, but this one was choosing to be difficult. 

“Are you alright?” Junmyeon asked as he took down another priest. 

“For the most part,” you answered, jangling your hand. Junmyeon lifted the sword to cut it free but suddenly fell from view. The upper bodies of the priests had grabbed hold of him and were holding him down so another could get close enough to drop the giant rock it was carrying onto his head. “Junmyeon!”

Junmyeon struggled to reach the sword he had dropped. Sehun was too busy with his own fight to notice his cousin needed help. You tried for the weapon yourself but it was too far out of reach. A disembodied hand was crawling with its fingers across the floor. When it wrapped its palm around the hilt of the sword, Junmyeon managed to grab the arm and swing at the mummy holding the stone, taking its legs out from under it. It fell backwards, squishing itself comically. He took care of the others and freed himself. He cut the bindings from your wrist and helped you off the slab. “Better late than never, right?”

“We’ll reevaluate that later.”

Baekhyun emerged from a side corridor. Oh, thank goodness. As if he were reading the Sunday paper, he studied the front of the book. “Cousin, I found an inscription here. Rash- Rasheem oola… kashka!”

A pair of doors burst open and out marched mummified soldiers with shields and spears. 

“Oh, wonderful.” At least you weren’t the only one who mucked up by reading out loud. 

Two by two, they came out until there were ten now facing you, Junmyeon, and Sehun. 

“This just keeps getting better and better,” Sehun muttered angrily.

“Baekhyun, do something,” you begged.

“Me?” Baekhyun squeaked as he backed up against a pillar. 

“Yes, you! You raised them! You can control them!”

“You’re joking, right?”

The soldiers marched on, coming in closer. You weren’t armed and you doubted Junmyeon and Sehun could hold all of them off. “Finish the inscription on the cover, you idiot!”

“Oh! Right!” Baekhyun scrambled to hide behind the pillar. 

Focused on the enemy in front of you, the one that had just been resurrected had been left forgotten. 

Anck-Su-Namun snatched you away from behind just as the mummified soldiers pounced. You managed to get out of her grip and were now playing a rather unfun game of tag while she chased you with the ceremonial dagger, keen on killing you herself so she could be fully revived. 

“Baekhyun, hurry up, please!”

“I can’t figure out this last symbol!”

“What does it look like!” You ran around the pillars and figures, lucky that you still had all of your ligaments to move quickly with. But Anck-Su-Namun had caught on and cut you off from around a corner, clutching your neck as you fought to keep the dagger away from your heart. 

“Its… its, uh… a bird!” Baekhyun started flapping an arm in a wing-like motion. “No! A stork!”

You pushed the air past your throat to give him the answer. “Ahmenophus!”

“Ah! That makes sense!” He read over the sentence again before yelling, “Hootash im ahmenophus!”

With a kick to her brittle rips, you managed to break free from Anck-Su-Namun right as the mummy soldiers froze. Right on time, too, as it seemed both Junmyeon and Sehun were about to be impaled. You ran to Baekhyuun and ripped the book out of his hands. “Give that to me!” Turning back to the one who had tried to kill you, you said, “Fa-kooshka, Anck-Su-Namum!”

The soldiers didn’t move as Anck-Su-Namun stalked closer. 

“Oh, fine!” You motioned for Baekhyun, who very smugly repeated the order. The soldiers backed off Junmyeon and Sehun, going for their new prey as Imhotep tried to stop them with his own shouting. It didn’t work. He watched in horror as, for the second time, his love was taken from him. All you saw was the soldiers surrounding her, then stabbing. She shrieked in pain and then was once again… silent

Imhotep roared in anger. He swept up sand as he turned on you and Baekhyun, vowing death to you both. Junmyeon ran up from behind and cut off one of his arms, getting his attention instead. The robes slipped from Imhotep’s body as he picked up the severed arm and reattached it, stepping determinedly in Junmyeon’s direction. 

The robes. 

The key! 

You hurried forward, eyes never leaving Imhotep in case he remembered what he had left behind. It took a moment of searching the folds of black, tattered fabric, but eventually you found the key. “Keep him busy!” you told Junmyeon. 

“Yeah, no problem,” was grunted back to you.  

Inserting the key, you twisted it three times until the claws clicked open. You flipped through the heavy slabs, eyes constantly on the search for the right inscription. There was so much here. So much knowledge, so much history, you were getting distracted. 

Save Junmyeon! You told yourself. Stay focused and save Junmyeon!

“Hurry!” Baekhyun urged. 

You growled back, “You’re not helping!”

Imhotep now had Junmyeon by the throat, feet off the ground and face turning purple. You were running out of time!

There! “I have it! Kadeesh mal! Kadeesh mal! Pared oos! Pared oos!”

A wind from nowhere kicked up through the air. From the top of the staircase, a ghostly horse-drawn carriage came sailing in, down the stairs and straight for him.

Horrified and knowing exactly what was headed his way, Imhotep dropped Junmyeon and tried to run. But the carriage was faster. 

It barreled through him, taking with it a translucent outline of himself, rounding the room before trotting back up the staircase and through the purplish wormhole that it had come from. Imhotep chased after it as if he could steal what was stolen from him back. But that was impossible. 

Junmyeon picked up his dropped sword and scrambled to you, weapon high for the next round of the fight. “I thought you said that would kill him.”

Imhotep stomped forward, eyes fixed on your group. So focused on his target that he never saw Sehun come in from behind and stab his own sword through Imhotep’s back. 

 You smirked. “He’s mortal now.”

He stared down at the blade that was protruding from his stomach. Staggering, his eyes were round from shock, little by little the light of life fading. His feet shuffled closer to the pit’s edge until he finally fell in and sunk beneath the surface. As he faded from view, his skin disintegrated until he was back in the form that you first found him. Words echoed around as he gave one last message. Handing the book back to Baekhyun, you translated it for the others. 

“Death… is only the beginning.”

“Thank god that’s over,” Baekhyun sighed. 

You squeezed his shoulder, thankful to whomever that he was alive. That you all were. “We should get out of here.”

“Where’s Beni?” Sehun asked as he surveyed the room. Oh, right. You’d nearly forgotten about him. 

“Probably halfway back to Cairo with a bag full of gold,” Junmyeon said bitterly. 

Then, suddenly, the walls began to tremble, sand fell in falls from the ceiling 

“Time to go!” Junmyeon grabbed your hand and headed for the exit. Baekhyun, who was leading in front, slipped on a pile of sand as he crossed one of the bridges. You watched in horror as the book flew from his hands and into the water, sinking beyond retrieval. 

“You lost the book! How could you lose the book!”

“Oh, come on!” All three yelled at you. Nothing could be done. The Book of Amun-Ra was lost. You’d cry about it later. 

Navigating the halls, sand and walls were falling all around you, seeking to trap you in. Junmyeon led the group through a giant room filled with gold. Baekhyun whimpered at all the treasure he was able to take with him, but at least he kept running. 

“Wait for me! Wait for me!”

As you left the hall of gold, you turned to see Beni running after you. The ceiling above was slowly lowering. If he didn’t pick it up, he’d be trapped forever. A small opening barely big enough for a human was starting to sink beneath the floor. Baekhyun made it through. Sehun made it through. You made it through. 

Junmyeon came in last, sliding across the sand and then flipping over, his hand reaching out towards Beni, who was still a good ten or fifteen feet away. “Come on, come on, come on!” Hate him or not, Junmyeon would try to help. But Beni didn’t make it and the opening disappeared. Junmyeon sighed. Then shrugged. “Bye-bye, Beni.”

He jumped up to his feet and rejoined the group. 

Finally outside, the columns and temples were also falling, causing you all to zig-zag all around the city as it crumbled to the ground. The sand beneath your feet shook. You made it out of the city’s boundary. When you were far enough out of the blast zone, you stopped and watched as what was once a great archeological find sink into the sand, never to be seen again. 

Baekhyun screamed out of nowhere. You panicked, thinking Imhotep wasn’t truly dead. But then you saw the shadow. And then the camel. And then the man riding it. 

“Ardeth!” You were so happy to see him alive! You had been so worried about getting out yourself, you hadn’t been able to ask the others what had happened to him. 

“Thank you for that heart attack,” Baekhyun scolded as he rubbed his chest. He would be fine. If the wine and women hadn’t killed him yet, you were sure he would live through this. 

Ardeth bowed his head. “From me and my people, you have earned our respect and gratitude.”

Baekhyun chuckled, waving it off with false modesty. “Well… it was nothing.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sehun muttered as he spat dirt from his mouth. 

Ardeth grinned then clicked his tongue to urge the camel on. 

Shaking his head, Baekhyun turned back to the flat surface that used to be Hamunaptra. “Wonderful. We go home empty-handed. Again.”

Junmyeon looked down at you and with the softest expression, disagreed. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Heat bloomed on your cheeks as his meaning sunk in. Sehun understood as well, rolling his eyes and turning away. Cupping your jaw with his fingers, Junmyeon leaned in and kissed you deeply, pulling you in closer.

Yes, he was right. You were truly walking away with the adventure of a lifetime.

[lubdubsworld]

Falling for you ( Falling from grace)

Read Chapter 1 here 

Rated : 18 +

Warning : . Fuck buddies? Or rather enemies that have sex. They just really hate each other but also can’t keep their hands off each other. Fair warning this has no plot. its just them being idiots . 

Chapter 2

I woke up to a pounding headache and seventeen missed calls from one Jeon Jungkook. Glaring at my innocent phone I contemplated just going back to bed and calling in sick. But I couldn’t. As Hobi oppa’s assistant in the HR department, I had a shit-ton of work to do on any normal day and if I skipped work today, I would just be screwing myself over for tomorrow. 

As fate would have it Jungkook and I worked in the same company. Although work was a very generous word for what he did there  , which was basically foist his entire workload on his poor besotted secretary who was too head over heels in love with him to realize that the bastard was taking advantage of her. The girl was young, probably twenty one or twenty and like an eager to please, easily excited chihuahua puppy.

But Jungkook’s designation in the company was nothing to scoff at : He was the HOD of the creative design department and I knew that the fucker was just unfairly good at digital art. it’s hard to imagine a brute like Jungkook with a Tablet , drawing easy strokes of visually appealing masterpieces but that was literally what he did, during the three days a week that he spent at the office. But although he was good at it, he was mostly only there because his dad had threatened to cut him off if he didn’t show up at least thrice a week. 

The remaining four days though, that was the interesting part. 

Jungkook was a boxer. 

A professional street fighter , to be exact and he absolutely pulverized his opponents in the fighting ring. Affectionately called the golden maknae, because he was literally the youngest there and so far he had always won gold in nearly every fight he took part in. 

I didn’t really talk to Jungkook in the office and no one knew about us. But this was less by design and more because our paths didn’t cross.

But I had a feeling that today would be different. Jungkook was pissed last night. I wouldn’t put it past him to show up at my cubicle and make a huge scene. And well, seeing as his dad owned the damn company I was pretty sure , he wouldn’t be the one getting fired if that were to happen. 

So I called Hoseok up just to be sure.

“He’s not coming in today is he?” I whined, desperately , voice a little muffled around my toothbrush. 

“I have no idea, Areum.... The guy doesn’t have me on speed dial...”

I groaned. 

I would just have to roll the dice, it seemed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You little bitch.” Jungkook’s voice, right next to my ear, was so unexpected that I sloshed the scalding hot water from the coffee pot all over my arm. 

“Fuck... Jeez, give a girl some warning will , you?” I hissed, grabbing a wad of napkins to soak up the mess on my arm and the counter. Before I could fully finish, he gripped my elbow and yanked hard, swinging me around so fast, I lost my footing, crashing into his chest. 

I stared up at him, furious. 

He was dressed in a fucking suit. I took in the broad , broad shoulders encased in a slightly sparkly black suit, the drool-worthy pecs straining against the fitted black shirt and the perfect knot of his tie and felt my mouth water. 

But it was the hair that did it for me. Gelled but un-styled, his long hair was a mess, falling into his eyes and he looked so much like a beast that had been forced to look civilized. 

“What the fuck do you want?” I hissed, annoyed and just a little aroused. Could someone’s fucking face be a kink? Like looking at Jungkook should not be a turn on, right? Where was the justice?

His hand snapped up , wrapping around my jaw with enough force to bruise and I felt my eyes widen in disbelief. I gripped his wrist, clawing at it trying to get him off but he grabbed both my wrists together with his free hand, squeezing till i winced. 

I closed my eyes when he bent low, teeth closing over my lower lip and biting down hard enough to hurt.

“Please..” I whispered, terrified because the break room door was open. Anyone could walk in and i’d be forced to file a sexual harassment charge against myself. 

“You think its fucking funny. playing with my brother’s heart?”

My pulse sped up at that.

“I wasn’t..... What do you mean, heart?” I stared at him, genuinely scared.

“You know he fucking likes you, Areum.... He asked you out for dinner.... You think its fair, making him think he has a chance just because you want to be a petty little , whining bitch?” 

Regret pulsed inside me, my throat going dry in genuine guilt. 

“I didn’t mean-” The fingers around my jaw tightened and this time the pain was enough to make my eyes water. 

“ I think, this thing between us needs to end. I don’t think you’re nearly a good enough lay for me to risk hurting my family.” He said softly and I felt my anger rise.

“Good. Let’s end things then. You think I can’t find someone else to fuck?” I challenged him and he smiled.

“Oh, baby I know you can find any number of dicks to take that slutty pussy for a ride but the question is , do any of those men actually know  how  to fuck you right?” 

I stayed quiet because he was right. I’d had enough bed partners to know that no one, no one came even close to Jungkook. He had probably wrung out more orgasms from me in a single week than all the other men in my life combined. The idea of not having him in my bed was..... terrible. We had gone through this before, some petty ass fight leading to us refusing to touch each other and  I had only lasted five days before having a mental breakdown from sheer horniness. Granted he had been the one to cave in on day 6 but still, it wasn’t an experience I wanted to relive. 

I stared at his gorgeous face and swallowed my dignity. 

“Fine... “ I gritted out. “ I’m sorry.” The last came out as a whisper, my pride refusing to let me say it any louder. 

His fingers slipped down to tilt my chin up.

“Didn’t catch that, dollface.....” He was smirking now. 

I stared at him.

“I said I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have played with your brother you’re right. But you shouldn’t have handcuffed me to the fucking bed...”

Jungkook hummed.

“Still with the passing blame.... I’m not  certain you’re nearly sorry enough. Maybe us taking a break is a good idea and-”

I reached out and clutched the lapels of his suit jacket pressing a desperate kiss to his mouth to cut him off. 

“No... Stop it.. I... I’m not faking it, okay? I did feel like shit after sleeping with him, its true and you’re right... he didn’t... he didn’t make me feel as good as you usually do. It’s true. Just... I’m sorry.” 

Jungkook’s eyes flashed , his pupils dilating and I gulped. 

“Not here.” I said sternly, knowing exactly what he was thinking and his arm came around me, hands dripping down to grip my ass, lifting me up till I was pressed right up against his crotch. He rolled his hips into mine and I felt the hardness of his erection as it pressed into my center. 

His eyes narrowed in annoyance, like I was being unreasonable by refusing to fuck him in the very public break room in his dad’s company on a monday morning. 

“So where? And it better be someplace we can get to in the next two minutes because I’m gonna stick my cock in your mouth in two minutes, regardless of where we are.” He said quietly , reaching up to hook his thumb into my mouth till my lips parted,  and then pushing his fore and middle finger inside. 

Fuck.

[cocobeanncteez]

ATEEZ Mingi: One Condition (oneshot)

Genre: angst, mild fluff, mafia au, rivals to lovers au (?)

Pairing: Mafia!Mingi x Mafia!Reader (fem)

Warnings: profanities, violence, guns, death.

It was four hours past midnight. You were talking a walk in your area, preparing yourself for the mission you had to go on in a couple of hours.

You walked in the narrow, dimly lit streets that were sandwiched between old buildings. Your pockets were stuffed with your cold hands, and you fiddled with your pocket knife.

"Your fucking gang ruined it!" you heard a man yell, the sound quite close to where you were. "I'll fucking kill you, son of a bitch!"

You were going to walk away as you didn't like interfering in other's business, but you were really curious about this situation after the man said the word 'gang.'

You quickly followed the sound and found yourself standing in a dark alley where two men were beating up another man. The victim groaned in pain when one of the men kicked his leg. You felt bad for the victim who was outnumbered.

"You've got the wrong gang, like I said before," the victim managed to say. His voice was deep and you instantly recognized him from previous encounters.

Song Mingi from Ateez, in charge of Ateez's amazing weaponry from what you've heard. You thought of going away as Ateez was your rival and you shouldn't bother about whether anyone in their gang dies or not, but instead, you made your presence known.

"Why are you beating the poor bastard up?" you questioned the two men who whipped around at the sound of your voice, ready to attack. You chuckled, moving towards them. They felt relieved when they saw you: a woman. Little did they know, you were one of the most skilled snipers in the mafia.

"What's a little girl like you doing here?" the bigger of the two men said with a smirk, checking you out. You innocently smiled although you wanted to shoot them; how dare they underestimate you just because you're a woman?

"I asked you a question," you stated.

"Go back home, baby girl, this isn't a place for girls like you... unless you wanna come with us and have some fun?" The two men laughed while your blood boiled.

You immediately reached for your gun in your back pocket. Without any warning, you shot both the men straight in the forehead. They collapsed to the ground, meeting their death.

"Assholes," you mumbled, moving over their pathetic bodies to get to Song Mingi. He tried to sit up, grunting in pain during the process. "Why were they beating you up?" you questioned, putting your gun back in your pocket.

"I don't think that's any of your business, darling," he remarked, trying to stand up.

You grinned. "You're my rival, of course it's my business." Mingi rolled his eyes while he stood on his feet, groaning in pain.

"Well, I'll tell you since you won't gain anything from it. They think my gang sabotaged their drug deal," he said, leaning against the wall. "We didn't even know them."

You hummed, your eyes scanning the tall man from head to toe. You couldn't deny that he was handsome and his voice could make your knees go weak. If only he wasn't your rival...

"Never thought I'd see you checking me out again," Mingi said with a smirk. You cleared your throat, looking away from him.

"Where's your base? I'll take you there cause you clearly can't walk on your own," you offered.

He laughed. "Are you planning on dying, Y/N?"

You shrugged. "I saved your life, Ateez won't bother killing me."

"No, you killed the men cause they pissed you off. Otherwise, I'm sure you would've enjoyed watching them murder me."

You're wrong. "Hmm, maybe. Anyway, do you want me to help you go home or not?"

Mingi contemplated about your offer for a second; the worse that could happen was your gang killing you for helping your rival, or his gang killing you for setting foot in their territory. "Fine, let's go... but on one condition."

You raised an eyebrow. "It better not be something stupid, Song Mingi."

Mingi snorted, limping to you until he was standing right in front of you, towering over your smaller form. His bruised hand moved up to gently cup your cheek.

"I want to kiss you. That's the condition."

Your breath hitched and you stared at his face, checking to see if he was joking or not. As if he had read your mind, he said, "I'm serious about this. One kiss, that's all."

You wrapped your arms around Mingi's neck, pulling him down to kiss you. The kiss was slow and gentle, contrary to how your dangerous lives were. Your heartbeat raced and your knees grew weak while Mingi deepened the kiss. You mentally cursed yourself for being like this for him; you weren't brought up that way.

Mingi pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours. "Thank you... we can leave now."

-

"Now, now, gentlemen, that's not how you treat your guest," you remarked, glancing at Yunho and San who had their guns pointed at you. You helped Mingi to sit on a nearby chair, confusing the other gang members.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Yeosang questioned while Seonghwa immediately checked Mingi's wounds.

"What does it look like? I brought one of your members home," you stated, stifling a yawn.

"What do you want? Why did you beat him up?" Yunho interrogated.

Before you could reply, Mingi beat you to it. "She wasn't the one who beat me up. In fact, she saved me from those unknown bastards who attacked me," Mingi explained. The boys glanced at each other, wondering whether Mingi was speaking the truth. They trusted him a lot, yes, but since he has the softest heart amongst them, they doubted if he was being honest; they would kill you in an instant if you hurt any of their members, and Mingi knew that very well.

"And where are the attackers?" Hongjoong questioned.

"I shot them," you replied and cleared your throat. "Now, excuse me, gentlemen, I've got a mission to prepare for." You glanced at Mingi with a small smile. "Hope you get better soon, Mingi." You turned around, ready to leave.

"Wait!" Mingi yelled out, making your steps halt. "Will I see you again?" The other seven men looked at him like as if he was insane.

You turned around, a sly smirk on your face.

"Sure, but on one condition... you have to kiss me again."

[levis-hazelnut]

Levi x Reader Hate At First Sight

Summary: after hearing about you getting into a fight with some Military Police, Erwin and Levi go to try and enlist you as a scout, much to Levi’s dismay. Though, after some months spent there, you found yourself to be disliked by many scouts.

(a/n: look at my baby his side profile he’s so beautiful. also i do not hate petra it’s just for the sake of the fic so please don’t @ me lmao)

You gripped your knees, your back hunched while your chest rose and sank as you tried to catch your breath. The reason you were running was that moments ago, some men tried to molest you. Though you were able to beat them down, you obviously didn't want to stay around that area of filthy MPs. Yes, they were everywhere, but that particular place isn't somewhere where you should be late in the evening. Only whores would walk around there. And you definitely aren't one of them. You may have the face and figure of one, but you would never stoop to that level just to get money and to pleasure foul men who treat women as objects. It's good that you're poor because then you have loose clothes that don't make your curvaceous body show. Walking at a slower pace, you made your way to your 'home' which was just a place behind a store, which had sacks piled on top of each other, making it comfortable enough to sleep there rather than the gelid ground. And to be able to get the owner to let you stay there, you had a massive dispute that caused you to get attention to yourself and you were on the verge of pulling out the blade you keep in your boot. But now, you are on good terms with him.

A lot of the friends you had didn't remain with you because of your temper. Or they would have been caught by the Military Police. Either way, you don't have any of your past friends. Hey, it's not your fault you would go out of control at any time, sometimes for no reason. Well, it is your fault but you didn't make yourself this way, so tell that to whatever god is up there.

You plopped down onto the stack of sacks, staring up at the midnight blanket, where stars sparkled in and the gleaming moon gazed down at you. As you rested your head on your arm and your other arm laid across your torso, your stomach slightly grumbled from being deprived of food. Sighing, you jumped up, heading inside the shop you laid behind. Thankfully, it was a small restaurant. As you walked in, the owner glanced at you with a frown. "(Y/N), it's closing time. Why are you coming in now?" You put a hand to your stomach. "Don't tell me. It's my hollow stomach." "Here." He chucked you a whole loaf of bread and an apple. "Now, leave. I've got to clean up." "Thanks.” Sitting back down, you threw the apple up in the air and caught it in your left hand as you ate the bread. After finishing the food, you relaxed and closed your eyes, so you could escape from the life you have and dream about living somewhere else, somewhere cosy, somewhere warm and more home-like. And maybe even someone you could spend your life with without them leaving you because of your fierceness or dying. ~/~ "Corporal Levi?" "What?" aforementioned person replied with an exasperated sigh. "Commander Erwin said he needs to talk to you." "Tch. Okay." He walked away with profanities soaring through his mind, wanting to just go to his office and avoid people that were getting on his nerves. Stepping into the Commander's office, he crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall after shutting the door. "What do you want?" The Commander gestured to a chair in front of him so the other male could sit down and he could inform him of the situation. "A while ago, in Wall Sina, there was a woman who got in a fight with a few Military Police and took off with ODM gear. She isn’t a soldier or anything, so she most likely hadn't handled gear before, but she was able to use it with ease, meaning she's someone skilled." "So?" "We need to go get her to enlist as a scout." "Tch. Why? She already sounds shitty and bratty." "We're going tonight, Levi." He stood up and left the office, clicking his tongue. All he wanted was to avoid people and now, he has to go get some bitch who probably doesn't even know how to wipe their ass. An hour, or so, ago... A group of four Military Police surrounded you, all of them having smug expressions that made you want to punch them in their faces... and then their balls. You wouldn't let them get away with only a punch to the face. Who do they think you are? A princess? You steal some gear thingy, that looked intriguing to you, from one of them and suddenly you're the bad guy? These idiots think they can beat you as well. You could just laugh. "Do you really think you can beat me?" you chuckled. You did just laugh. "We don't want to hurt you, darlin'. Just give us back the gear." "Who said you can call me darlin'?" you snarled and fly kicked one of them. He ended up slamming against the building behind him, sliding down the wall, knocked out. You charged at another, kicking their crotch and punching the top of his head as he dropped onto the ground with a thud.

Two more left... One of them came towards you with their fist drawn back to punch you with a force meant to harm you but you caught their fist and twisted their arm, pushing it towards their chest as they let out a cry of pain. You thrust your foot at his abdomen as he held his arm, groaning.

"Are you really going to try and beat me?" The last one only smirked, approaching you, so you pulled out the blades from the equipment you took from him and pressed it to his neck. He froze on the spot and gulped, cold sweat appeared on his flesh and dropped with a patter on the ground. "I'm going to give you five seconds to take your comrades and get your asses out of here." You put the blade back into its place and watched the panicking man pick up the other dirty humans and hurry away, not wanting to wait to see what you would do after five seconds. Ignoring the people gawking at you, you dusted your clothes before figuring out how to use the gear to head to your favourite shop, wanting something to drink. You were able to do it with ease, flying through the doors and swiftly landing on your feet. The bell rang to notify people that someone came in.

You sat on your table. Yes, it was your table and all the regulars knew that after seeing you pound a man for taking your table. Ever since then, no one has sat at that table apart from the drunk idiots who want your attention or people that haven't been to this place yet. It was near the window and it had the sofa seat so you would lean your back against the window, stretching your legs across the seat. You placed the equipment you took on the table.

"Oi, Luis," you called to the owner, and he looked at you from where he was at the counter. "The usual." He nodded at you and proceeded to make you your black tea with no sugar. After about five minutes, he placed the cup of tea in front of you as you handed him some money you were able to 'earn', paying him for the food he gave you the last few days as well. But you always got a discount so it wasn't too much of a problem for you to stea-- earn a bit of dough. "Hi, (Y/N)~" Yay, another drunken fool trying to hit on you. You rolled your eyes, disregarding his presence that sat opposite you as you drank your tea. He was saying shit you weren't listening to. But, seriously, who gets drunk during the day? He's probably just another jerk whose wife ran away from and took most of his money or something like that. All these snobby, egotistic people, who live within Wall Sina, piss you off to the extent that you want to make sure that their pained screams reach Wall Rose, so that those citizens would know what would happen if they pissed you off. "Hey, idiot, I'm going to give you three seconds to get out of my sight," you growled. All he did was smirk and lean over the table, trying to get closer to you. You punched him the middle of his face, but it didn't look like he could feel it. You stood up and dragged him off the seat, kicking him over and over as he laid on the sparkling, marble floor. "Hey, hey, hey!!" Luis jogged up to you. "(Y/N), you need to stop beating up my customers! Soon, you'll be my only customer." "Tell this bastard to get the fuck out and leave me alone, then." "I can't kick someone out for you." "Tch." You trudged out of the shop, wandering around the streets, hiding from any MPs that walked past, so you could evade another fight since you weren't in the mood for any action. "Hey, (Y/N)!" "Moritz," you greeted as he came up to you. "I haven't seen you in a while." "Just trying to stay away from any bastards. So, get away from me," you joked to which he chuckled softly. "My offer still stands... I'd like a daughter like you." "Sorry, Moritz. Leon isn't my type." "My son is in love with you. He's a kind and soft lad and if I'm being fair, he's handsome." "Exactly. That isn't my type. I want someone strong, feisty and someone able to handle my temper and maybe get into heated arguments with me. But of course, I want someone attractive." Several hours later... "Levi, are you ready?" "Yes." The stoic man let out a heavy breath and proceeded to leave his office, following the tall blonde. They both got their gear before leaving the building and entering a carriage waiting for them. "Why is this brat special? There are so many cadets that can use ODM gear." "As I said before, she isn’t a soldier and was able to use it without practice." "What's her name?" "(Y/N) (L/N)." The rest of the journey was quiet, only a few words of what they were going to do and the occasional click of the tongue because of how long the trip was. Finally, they arrived in front of a classy restaurant and it was filled with people due it being the evening when couples go there. You shimmied past the couples all dressed up in fancy clothes and you were able to make it out of it. Looking back over your shoulder, you rolled your eyes before frowning when you saw two men standing in front of you. You crossed your arms over your chest and arched an eyebrow. "Look, I took your friend's gear hours ago. Why are you still chasing after me? It's not that big of a deal." "Are you (Y/N) (L/N)?" the taller male asked. "... Yes. What do you want?" "May I see the gear you were talking about?" "Are you going to take it?" "No." "Okay. Follow me." You walked to your pile of sacks, expecting them to be behind you but they were in their place. "You coming or what?" They slowly approached you, wary of their surroundings. "What is this place?" the stoic male questioned, clearly disgusted. "Welcome to my humble abode." You ignored his criticism. You looked about for the gear but you couldn't find it, that's when you realised that you had left it in the restaurant. You hoped that no one took it. You sighed and looked into the restaurant, telling the two males where you left it, so they dismissed you, allowing you to get it and they followed you but waited outside. You opened the door, pushing people out of the way. "Move out the way, you fucking arrogant idiots," you muttered. You looked around your table where a couple sat but you didn't care since you weren't going to sit there and there wasn't any other space. You frowned when you didn't see it. Who the fuck took it? ... Oh, they did. There were two men and a woman on a table with the gear in front of them as they all put their nasty hands on it. The woman was drunk and holding a wine glass filled with a red liquid, one of the men was smoking and the other had a beer. You barged through the crowd, striding to their table. "Excuse me. This is mine." You tried taking it, but the man closest to you stopped you from doing that as he stood up, coming closer to you so you backed away. You could smell the cigarettes emitting from him as you held your breath at the foul smell. "Now, why would I let you take this without anything in return?" "Tch. Give it before I prevent you from having kids." "I wouldn't mind having a baby with a gal like you." "Get your breath out of my face. And give it to me. I swear, I'll knock you down so you won't be able to get up ever again," you grumbled. "I like my women feisty." You punched his left cheek and he stumbled back into his seat as you picked up the gear, turning around to face the entrance but all you saw was more people entering. Okay, you didn't care anymore. You swiped a man and stepped on him to get closer to the door but a woman came in your way, her boobs blocking your way. You slid through what little space there was and jumped over a short person, enabling you to exit and go back to the two men outside. The one with blue eyes looked surprised as you passed him the material. "That was impressive." "What?" "How you got past all those people." "Eh, it was nothing." "Anyway, are you able to use this properly?" "Yes. It isn't that hard." "Can you show me your skills with it?" "Why? Wait... how do you even know my name? Who are you people?" you inquired after realisation hit you. "I'm Commander Erwin Smith and this is Corporal Levi Ackerman. We're from the Scout Regiment and we heard that you got into a fight with some MPs and you were able to easily use this so I wanted to see your skills and see if you're worthy of becoming a scout." "Why would I want to join you? All of you are stupid to leave the walls to fight titans. I don't want to become like you. And there are a lot who don't even know how to fight and I don't want to fight with morons,” you responded. "Yes, I don't have a great life but it's better than risking it to go do something stupid. I don't care if you're the Commander and he's Humanity's Strongest Soldier, I'm not becoming a scout." "Tch. We don't do something stupid, we fight for humanity. You only fight to get away from trouble. I don't know why we have to save the likes of you but we do and we don't do it because we want to, we do it because we have to. And they may be idiots, but they're damn good soldiers who shouldn't be ill spoken about by someone like you," Levi growled lowly, venom laced in his words. 'Someone like you', who does this fucking midget think he is? You were probably around his height but women are generally shorter than men. You narrowed your eyes and proceeded to thrust your fist at his face but he dodged it before headbutting you. He punched your nose, causing it to bleed and he struck your gut straight after. He threw punches at you, one after another, until you had enough, bringing your leg up to kick the side of his head. He put his hand there, weakening the blow, and grabbed your ankle, slamming you down onto the stone ground. You felt slightly dizzy but you shook it off, standing up immediately, ramming your knuckles into his face and you tried to trip him over but he kept his balance. After punches being thrown and both of you being beaten up, to finish the fight off, he slid behind you and twisted your arm behind your back, stepping on your foot as his other hand held your wrist by your side. You tried shaking him off, but it was futile. He twisted your arm more, getting a quiet hiss of pain from you. "You may be able to beat up some useless MPs but we, at the Scout Regiment, are nothing like them. You better think twice before you try to fight with me." "Thank you, Le--" Erwin started but was cut off. "(Y/N)?" a gentle voice uttered, and you turned your head towards it. "What are you doing here, Leon?" "I-I came here to see you..." he shyly said, his ginger hair hiding his emerald eyes as he gazed at the ground where blood trailed. "What's happening? Who are these men?" He looked back up with concern pooling in his orbs. "It's nothing. Do you want to talk about something?" "It can wait. It looks like you have to deal with something." "Oi, get off of me. I won't try to put up a fight, or run away." "I don't trust you." You clicked your tongue and lifted your foot up to kick his groin but he wrapped his leg around yours so you weren't able to strike him. "Can I not talk to him?" you snapped. "Levi, let her go." "Idiot," you murmured loud enough so he was able to hear but he didn't say anything. You walked up to the boy. "Leon, I don't think you should tell me anything important because I don't know if I'm going to be able to see you after today. They're from the Survey Corps and they want to enlist me. I don't want to go, but it looks like they're going to force me." "But--" You could see the tears welling up in his pretty eyes. "I love you, (Y/N)." "I know. But that's how it is. Sorry." You didn't sound sorry at all, your tone was your usual dull, yet harsh one, but you genuinely did feel a bit of compassion for him. After two years of trying to get you to be his wife, you're going to leave his life without leaving any feelings for him. He was a gentleman and you liked him, however, not as a lover or whatever, he was just delightful to have around. You didn't want to leave him like this so you embraced him, gently rubbing his back and whispering a few words. "Will you ever come back?" "I don't know. It's a high possibility that I won't." "If you do, will you marry me then?" "We'll have to see," you smiled; it was the first smile you ever let break out onto your lips since you were around ten. "Tch. Why did I come to see this?" "Shut up, Levi. Just be glad that you'll have a valuable soldier on your side." A scowl replaced your smile. He scoffed. "We've got plenty of useful soldiers, including myself." "I might see you later, Leon. Bye." "Bye, (Y/N)." He took your hand and softly kissed it. And with that, you left the boy in heartbreak and started a new life as a scout after showing them your skills, which Levi scoffed at so you backhanded him. On the way to headquarters, you and Levi sat opposite each other and argued as Erwin silently sat there, wishing for the ride to be over. Since the journey was long and it was around midnight, you had fallen asleep after some time, allowing peace to settle into the carriage. Once you reached HQ, Erwin stepped out and stood by the carriage, waiting for you and Levi to get off. "Oi, brat, get up." Levi tried to awake you. "Brat, wake up." "Who you calling brat?" you asked tiredly, failing to convey your irritation. "You. Now, shut up and get out." "Tch. Don't go telling me what to do, Ackerman," you muttered angrily, too tired to put up a fight. All three of you entered the building and coincidentally, you were walking next to Levi, starting another argument so Erwin walked in between the both of you, leading you to his office, while Levi went to his.

"Take a seat, (Y/N),” he told you. "This is the key to your room. We'll fill out the paperwork and do everything tomorrow. For now, just go sleep and I'll tell you all you need to know tomorrow." "Whatever." You left his office after he told you the directions to your room and you went there, finding a single bed with a bedside table that had a lit lantern. The first thing you wanted to do was have a shower since you felt sweaty from all the action you had today. Once you showered, you went straight to bed, snuggling into the blanket, able to have a good night's sleep for once in ages. ~/~ After changing into your uniform, you looked at your reflection. It fit you very well but you didn't want it to. You don't like showing your curves, but it's not that you feel insecure with people looking, you just don't like it. You don't want your body to be the thing that attracts people and you don't want people coming after you because of your alluring figure. With no hesitation, you would punch anyone that tries to touch you. As you were told to, you went to Erwin's office before breakfast started, ignoring the gazes that were focused on your form. You rolled your eyes as you stepped into his office, slamming the door behind you. "Gosh, these idiots don't know how to keep their eyes in their sockets." You turned your head to the door, not noticing Erwin's cerulean eyes on you. He blinked to break himself out of his daze and cleared his throat as he gestured to the seat in front of him. You sat down casually, not caring about being formal. "Sit up, (Y/N)." "Tch." "Sit up," he repeated. "You shouldn't disobey your superiors." You sighed and did as he said. "Happy?" "I've got these papers for you to sign," he told you as he handed a few sheets. "And these papers have information that you'll need to know but I'm going to go through it with you. I'm going to put you in Hanji's command..." After about half an hour, you were able to leave his office and make it for breakfast. You entered the mess hall with him and grabbed some food, sitting down on an empty table since you have yet to get to know these people and you thought that people would come up to you first. "Who is she?" "Mmm~ Look at that ass." "Look at those boobs." "You lot are pervs." "You only say that because you have Krista." "Yeah, and she's better than whoever that woman is." "I think she's pretty." "She's certainly not ugly." "Eren?" "Mikasa, do you not say anything else?" "Eren?" "What?" "Stop ogling her." "I-I wasn't." "Yeah, right, Jaeger. Wipe the drool from your mouth." "I'm the one drooling? You look like you have rabies." "You want to take this outside?" "Both of you, stop being children." You glanced at the table making the most noise and saw that all ten of them were looking in your way. Some averted their eyes as others smiled at you, however, you gave a cold stare in return before looking back at your food. It wasn’t exactly intentional to look at them like that, it's basically just your usual expression. "Did you see that?" "She may be pretty, but she's rude." "Who does she think she is? Looking at us like that." "I didn't see what happened." "Of course you didn't. You were too busy stuffing your face with food." "I think we should go talk to her." "Yeah, teach her a lesson." "Guys, sit down. You can't do that do a new person." "Yeah, guys, what's wrong with you?... Wait like a week, then you can teach her a lesson." "Jean! Don't encourage them!" "Oi, you lot?" You stood at their table, their heads turning your way as they had just noticed that you were there. "If you try to beat me up, you'll be s-- What the hell are you doing?!" you yelled at the person on your left who just touched your ass. "Feeling your ass," he stated nonchalantly. "You people are pervs. I agree with whoever that it is." "Whoever that it is, is Ymir," said girl inserted. They all introduced themselves to you but you couldn't be any less interested. "Okay, whatever. I don't give a shit about who you are. I came here to tell you that if you, Eren, Ymir, Jean and Reiner, try to beat me up, you'll be sorry. And I don't understand, do you want to grope my ass or beat it, Reiner?" "Who said I can't do both?" he smirked as you rolled your eyes, about to go back to your table. "Wait, (Y/N). Why don't you sit with us?" "So I can get harassed? No, thanks." "Just sit with us. We promise we won’t do anything," Jean told you. With slight reluctance, you got your plate from the other table and sat on the end of the table next to Armin, everyone focused on you as you spoke about your life before you came here.

At times, you would notice brown eyes belonging to a strawberry-blonde girl and grey eyes belonging to a raven man flutter towards you, but every time you looked up, they pretended as if they weren't staring at you. You could feel their glares burn into you. And you knew Levi's stare was of anger, but what was that girl's problem? ~/~ You wore a vest top and shorts, training with Reiner who volunteered to, probably just so he could see you with fewer clothes on. It's been going on for the past few weeks. You were a bit distracted during training because you felt as if someone was watching you and they were giving off a dark aura. You looked around but couldn't find anyone. "(Y/N), are you okay?" "Yeah. Come on." You waited for him to attack you and he did but you were able to knock him down before you saw the cause of the dark aura in the distance. "Hey, you!" you shouted, going towards them. "Do you have something to say to me?" You crossed your arms over your chest. "No. Nothing at all." She clenched her jaw. "You're Petra, right?" "Yeah. Actually, I do want to tell you something, you stay away from Corporal Levi," she growled, scrunching your vest in her fist. "Woah, Petra! What are you doing to (Y/N)?" Reiner jogged up to the two of you. Damn, now you can't beat the crap out of her. She let go of you and put on a bright smile, facing Reiner who knew that that smile was fake. "Nothing. I was just giving her some advice about making friends." "We need to train so leave us alone," Reiner took your arm protectively and dragged you away, but you protested. "Wait. I'll train with Petra today," you smirked devilishly. "No." "Oi, Petra! How about you spar with me?" "... Why?" "Just." You shrugged. "Sure," she agreed when she saw Levi come outside of the building, taking the chance to get his attention. You knew she wasn't strong enough for her to beat you, so this wouldn't end well for her. You both got into a fighting stance, before you threw your fist forward at her face, but you stopped just before you hit her so she dodged the potential blow and wasn't able to elude the kick you gave at her side. She was about to topple over but she caught herself, not letting you be victorious just yet. She attempted to punch your gut but you blocked it by making a cross over yourself. A crowd formed around you two, including the Corporal that Petra seemed obsessed about. But, of course, with his short stature, he wasn't able to see who exactly was fighting, so he pushed people out of the way, able to reach the front and see you and Petra. She tried to trip you over but that failed miserably and she fell flat on her face. A few from the huddle snickered quietly as others applauded even though it wasn't a real win. You crouched down and whispered, "Good luck in impressing that stubborn idiot." You got back up, grabbed your uniform and walked off, ignoring Levi who called for you. "Hanji!" you called to get her attention as she strolled through the castle. "Yes?" "Does Petra like Levi or something?" "I think so, yes. Why are you asking?" "During my training, she was watching me and she said to stay away from him. We got into a small fight which quickly ended because of her stupidity. I'm guessing the only reason this happened is that she's jealous. But she's moronic if she thinks that I would try to move to Levi." "Who's moronic?" a familiar voice spoke from behind you. You turned around. "Petra. Why the fuck would she think that I like you? You're bothersome, you're stubborn, you're irritating, you're an ass, you annoy the hell out of me and you're a bastard." "Thanks," he replied sarcastically. "The same can be said about you." "Tch. Shut it, Ackerman." "You know, you have a temper problem. And you shouldn't talk to me like that." "This is who I am. I can talk to you in any way I like." "You might not be able to talk after I knock your teeth out," he threatened with a glare. "I'm not scared of you." "We'll see about that," he muttered before walking away. "And put some clothes on." "What did you do to Shorty to make him so angry with you?" "I called soldiers stupid. Got in a fight with him. We've argued a lot of times." "Oof. I would have advised you to stay on his good side." "Too late." You shrugged. "It won't last long. He'll soften up after some time." "I don't think he will. Whatever, I need to go 'put some clothes on'." "Okay. Can I borrow you after for help with experiments?" Hanji asked slowly, hoping you wouldn't yell at her like last time, saying how you didn't give a sh*t about it. "No," you bluntly said as you left her, going to your room but was stopped by an annoying figure who you rolled your eyes at. "Looking good, (Y/N)." "Shut up." "You look a little dirty, want to have a shower with me?" You grabbed Jean's collar and brought your face close to his, a glare etched on your visage as you saw his Adam's apple move down and then back into its place as he gulped. "Shut the hell up and I'll let this one time slide." He nodded and scurried off once you let you go of him, entering your room and locking the door behind you. You decided to shower since you were covered in sweat and you felt nasty. ~/~ "Eurgh, look who it is," a voice whispered a little too loud as you entered the mess hall for breakfast, striding to your usual table with a few of people that you don't mind being around and the few that aren't annoying you or bothering you in any way. "She doesn't belong here." "You know, I heard that before she came here she worked in a brothel." "Everyday, she wears her vest top and short shorts, acting like a slut." "The other day, she was being a bitch to me. She laughed at my figure when I was looking in my reflection. Then, she said that no one would love me when I have a body like this." "I've heard that she's flirted with every man she's had contact with." This has been going on for at least three months: people making fun of you, talking about you, pushing you about, calling you names and such. You haven't taken any of it to heart, but you wondered what happened to make nearly everyone despise you. Everyone but superiors and the ten scouts you had befriended first, and even though Levi dislikes you, he doesn't contribute to the crowd that is being cruel to you. He already hated you from the start. "They're still going at it?" "Forget about them," Erwin told you. "How can I when they're practically saying it to me? All of what they're saying isn't even true. And they shouldn't try to start a fight with me because I'll beat the sh*t out of them." "Well, you are a bitch, so that's true," Levi murmured. "Ackerman, I suggest you shut up before I beat the shit out of you." You rammed your heel into his foot under the table since you were opposite him. "Tch. You should be happy that some of us aren't part of those dumb brats." "Dumb?" you repeated. "So, you're saying that they're dumb for saying all that stuff about me?" "... No... They're stupid in general." "Mhm." "What was that?" He frowned. "What?" "That 'mhm'." "Nothing." After staring at each other questioningly, you both went quiet as the other superiors on your table carried on their own conversations. Halfway through breakfast, you felt something cold and wet being poured onto your head, soaking your shirt and falling down your shirt which sent a shiver through you. You stood up and turned around to the laughing bastards, kicking the boy in the nuts and slapping the girl which shut them up. "What the fuck is your problem?! What did I do to you?!" "Someone decided to go braless today," the girl whispered to the other. You looked down and felt your cheeks growing red, out of rage and embarrassment. Something landed on your head and hung over your chest. You realised that it was a cape that Levi threw at you, which you wrapped around yourself before heading to your room to change out of the drenched clothes that you had just changed into. "Why the hell are you doing this? Yeah, she can be a brat, but all of you are, so I don't know why you lot are acting like this towards her when she didn't do anything. Both of you have kitchen duty for two months. If I see you one of you two do anything to her, you won't see the end of it." "Yes, sir." "Now, get the hell out of my face," Levi ordered as he sat back down in his seat, the others on the table looking at him with surprise. Who knew he would stand up for you like that? "What are you looking at?" "How come you stood up for (Y/N) like that?" Miche asked. "I didn't stand up for her. I was scolding them for acting like that towards a cadet." "Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say," Hanji said quietly with a smirk. "You shut up, Shitty Glasses." "I'm just saying that I don't think you would have done that for any other scout." "... That may be true, but they're mistreating (Y/N) for no reason." "Getting close to her, are we?"

"Tch. Just shut up." "Shorty has a crush~" Hanji sang in a low voice near his ear as she sat next to him, her 'best friend'. "I've only known her for five damn months. How could I already like her?" "Why are you asking me? And five months isn't that short, it's quite long if you think about it." "I don't care. I don't like her." "Okay~ Whatever you say~" Levi shot daggers at her before going back to eating in silence, not interacting with any more annoying people who seem to have a habit of bothering him nearly every day. One day, they'll leave him and he can live in serenity. One day, when all the titans are rid of and he can leave this shithole. All he has to do wait for that damn day that's taking its time to arrive. Can't it be a little more considerate? "I have to agree with Hanji. You seem to be a little protective over (Y/N)," Erwin stated after some time. "I. Don't. Fucking. Like. That. Brat." "Calm down, Levi. It's not a bad thing to like (Y/N)," Moblit teased. "Tch." The raven stood up and left the mess hall as he could hear the others laughing at him in the background. He slammed the door shut and trudged to his office with a scowl. He found you standing outside his office, your hand reaching for the handle but you stopped when you saw him come your way. "What are you doing, brat?" "I was going to give you your cape back. Thanks," you muttered. "Shut up," he grumbled, snatching the material from your hands and stepping into his office, locking the door. "Oi! Why are you telling me to shut up when I said thanks?" you shouted. "Get away from my office!" he yelled back. You rolled your eyes and started to go back to the mess hall. "Last time I thank you, bastard," you mumbled to yourself. ~/~ Your door shut with a bang after you had stormed into it, and leaned your back against the wood, hiding your face in your hands as you cried. Your legs gave out so you dropped to the ground with your legs arched and your arms resting on your knees as you placed your head on your arms, feeling tears drop onto your lap, seeping through your clothes. Two minutes later, you heard laughing, yelling and then footsteps approach your room. Light knocks sounded from the door with the soft call of your name. You knew who it was, but didn't respond so they turned the handle, slowly pushing the door open, however, you prevented that from happening by sitting by the door. They slid through the small gap before closing the door again, crouching down to you. "(Y/N)." "Leave me alone!" you shouted, though it was muffled behind your sobs and your face was hidden. "No. You obviously need someone right now." "I hate you! I hate all of them! Just get the fuck out!!" you roared, tearing your face away from your arms and looking at Levi's gentle expression. He didn't seem startled at all. "... Why are they doing this to me?" you whispered and concealed your face again, not wanting Levi to see you in this state. "Ignore them." "You know, it's all that Petra's fault. The bitch is envious of me and just wants to break me down into nothing. All because she's in love with you and she thinks that I like you!" "Tch. I don't even like her. She can fuck off. And how is doing this going to make me fall for her? I was wondering why she was being more clingy than usual," he muttered, but it was more to himself before he turned his attention back to you. "Don't let her break you down. You're a strong woman, so don't let something petty like this ruin you." "What am I meant to do? You don't know how hard it is to overlook them. You don't know how hard it is to keep a straight face when I'm hurting inside. I don't care if Petra may be making them do this, I hate it!" Surprisingly, you felt arms loop around your cowered form and haul you onto Levi's lap which made you remove your head from your arms again, looking at the raven, who was now right in front of you and gazing at your bloodshot eyes. He gently wiped your tears away and brushed a few (H/C) tresses that stuck to your tear-stained face.

More tears escaped as you shoved your face into his chest, soaking his shirt with the salty moisture and snot. He cradled you in his arms until you stopped crying which was about under an hour. "Are you okay now?" "Yeah. Thank you," you murmured as you wiped your face with tissue that Levi got for you. "Don't mention it. Do you need to talk?" "What's there to talk about? Petra hates me so she got people to make my life hell and I broke down." "I don't know how you were able to put up with it for half a year." "Barely. I just put on a poker face." Levi gently grabbed your chin in between his index finger and thumb, tilting your head towards him as you saw a slight smile creep onto his lips. "Don't hide your feelings anymore," he whispered before tenderly kissing you, his eyes fluttering shut. You were taken aback before you were brought back to your senses, finding yourself kissing him back as you cupped his face with a single hand. One of his hands trailed up from your hips to your scalp, tangling his slender fingers in your tousled locks. He was the first to pull away with gleaming orbs gazing at you with affection, licking away the strand of saliva that connected his lips to yours. "I'll always be here for you. To protect you, to talk, to comfort you, or whatever else you want." "Thank you, Levi," you hummed, leaning your forehead against his, pecking his lips once more. "Come on. Let's go eat." "I don't want to go," you said with pleading eyes. "I told you that I'll be here for you. You have to eat something before you sleep." "Please, don't make me go." "Just sit with me. I'll make sure that no one does anything to you." "I can't." "You need to endure it to become stronger. I'll be right next to you, okay?."

Sighing shakily, you stood up with a nod. "Okay." "I like seeing this vulnerable side of you," Levi teased as he walked out of your room, you padding beside him. "Shut up. You aren't allowed to tell anyone about this." The Corporal only smirked as you rolled your eyes.

As you strolled through the corridors to get to the mess hall, a few people were lingering, standing on the side and snickering when you went past. You tried to ignore them, though, it was difficult. "I heard that she got Corporal Levi drunk to sleep with her." "I can't, Levi. I'm going back to my room." You proceeded to turn and walk away but he grabbed your forearm. "(Y/N)." He cupped your face with both of his hands, making you face him but you averted your eyes, feeling tears welling up. "Look at me." You reluctantly brought your eyes back to his. "She's a whore. She tried to make me have sex with her and my friend. She wanted a threesome!" "Levi, I'm going." You tried freeing yourself from his hold, but he didn't let you. "No. Look at me. Ignore them." "How am I meant to ignore them?!" "Look at me!" he commanded. "... You can ignore them if you put your mind to it. Don't let them cause you grief because then it pains me to see you hurt. I don't like seeing you in pain so don't get affected by them. Ignore them and keep your eyes on me." A tear rolled down your cheek so he embraced you tightly, stroking your back soothingly. He let out an inaudible huff, wishing he could relieve your pain. "I won't force you to go to the mess hall. Go to my office, I'll bring you food." You nodded and pulled away from his grip. When you made your way to his office, people would say or do things but you stayed strong, and you were kind of proud of yourself once you made it into his office. You sat down on his sofa, waiting for him to come back. About five minutes later, the raven appeared with a tray of two bowls, bread and two glasses of water. He settled it onto his desk after you helped him clear the surface. You both sat down and ate together, allowing him to see your smile that he was deprived of ever since people started to harass you. After years of dreaming of having a home, having someone to stay with you, they came true. You have someone strong, feisty and you're sure you'll have plenty more heated arguments to come. On top of it all, he was damn sexy.