#they are the scary thing lurking in the shadows
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snakeredbirdbatkatana · 15 days ago
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I think we as a fandom really forget that Dick, and Tim are like super fucking Badass and scary.
Jason a bit too but overall everyone seems to get that the Red Hood the Overlord of Crime Alley makes people piss themselves.
Same with Damian people talk shit but overall the agreement is that Damian and Jason are scary as fuck.
But Dick has Broken bane beat the ever loving shit out of Slade Wilson he killed the fucking Joker. I do think he is doting Big brother but not in the I'll roll over and play dead type but in the you touch a hair on his fucking head and I will rip your throat out with my teeth.
Same with Tim we all love discussing the Red Robin 2009 comics but we make it like he's some sad idiot he was running missions calculating he took out the league of spiders he wasn't playing some Oh whoa is me bullshit he was kicking ass. He has contingencies that Batman is proud of.
If you think Bruce Wayne is scary well hold on meet the sons that are just fucking like him.
Like I need everyone to realize Tim and Dick are badasses and of characters didn't get nerfed so fucking hard it would be way more apparent.
If you take a step back and just look at their Training Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian are some of the best fighters in the DC universe it's not crazy to say they kick this villains ass or they can do this.
I see a whole lot of arrguments like oh they can't do this or whatever these are Batman's heirs trained to be the very best by him and others. They are standing on par with some of the scariest motherfuckers in the world.
Like put some respect on the Robin name it's certainly earned it.
*Also do you know the balls it takes to punch Batman in the face and then sit at his kitchen table and eat his food or spend his money after telling him to essentially go fuck himself. Like that is their Dad they are his kids.
Like my Dad's Batman but Also my Kid is the fucking Nightwing.
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luna-azzurra · 7 months ago
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Some tips on the do’s and don’ts of adding more description to your Writing
Do‘s:
Make your writing come alive by describing things that appeal to the senses. Instead of saying "It was a beautiful garden," you could say "The garden was filled with the scent of fresh roses, the sound of buzzing bees, and the vibrant colors of blooming flowers."
Instead of just saying what something is like, show it through your words. For instance, instead of saying "She was sad," you could describe her actions and surroundings to show her sadness: "Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared out the rain-streaked window, clutching a crumpled tissue in her hand."
Instead of using general words, get specific. Instead of saying "He drove a car," you could say "He drove a sleek, black convertible, the wind tousling his hair as he sped down the open highway."
Keep your writing interesting by mixing up short and long sentences. Don't always write in the same way. For example, "The sky was dark. The trees swayed in the wind. It felt eerie," could be improved by adding variety: "Dark clouds gathered overhead, causing the trees to sway ominously in the gusting wind, casting an eerie feeling over the landscape."
Use your descriptions to set the mood of your story. Instead of just saying "It was a scary place," describe the setting to evoke fear in your readers: "The abandoned house loomed in the moonlight, its broken windows and creaking doors whispering of unseen terrors lurking within."
Don't just drop descriptions randomly into your writing. Make sure they fit naturally into the flow of your story. Instead of stopping the action to describe something, weave it into the narrative: "As she ran through the forest, the branches clawed at her skin, leaving scratches like whispers of the dangers lurking in the shadows."
While descriptions are important, don't forget to keep your story moving forward. Don't spend too much time describing things at the expense of the action. Find a balance between describing the scene and keeping the plot moving.
Don't:
Using too many adjectives can make your writing sound cluttered and overwhelming. Stick to the essentials and choose your words carefully.
Don't forget that dialogue and interactions between characters are key parts of your story. Use them to reveal personality and move the plot forward.
Don't repeat yourself. Once you've described something, trust your readers to remember it. Don't keep saying the same thing over and over again.
Sometimes, what you don't say can be just as important as what you do say. Let your readers read between the lines and draw their own conclusions.
Avoid using tired old phrases that everyone has heard before. Try to come up with fresh, original descriptions that will grab your readers' attention.
Be mindful of the pace of your story. Don't slow things down with long descriptions in the middle of an action scene. Save the detailed descriptions for quieter moments when the pace naturally slows down.
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lionneee · 3 months ago
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Your sworn sword
English is not my first language, please be kind
Masterlist
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•Warnings: fingering, degradation (just a bit), 'just the tip', talking of sexual themes, piv, smut.•
Part 1 -> Part 2
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{Request: I have a request! Aemond is send across the narrow sea to be the sworn sword/knight of a (verryy beautiful) princess from a noble house is esso’s. As punishment what he did to lucerys Thanks for reading dear 💙}
To say that Prince Aemond was grumpy was an euphemism.
He was rigid, stoic, and rude.
But your father loved him.
You couldn’t understand why, not after his most recent kill: his little nephew.
You remembered meeting Luke Velaryon once, he was a nice, gentle, kind boy.
His brother Jace was just the same.
Princess Rhaenyra had been invited as a guest at your father’s name day feast with her family, and you remembered spending a nice afternoon with her sons.
You actually kept contact with her youngest child, Jace. You two sometimes sent letters to each other, talking of your days apart.
You would have never said it outloud, but you had a weakness for the boy’s dark, beautiful hair.
But he was promised to her cousin Baela.
As soon as you heard the news, you thought he would have stopped sending you letters, but he didn't, and you almost cried of joy when the next letter came.
Then, your father sided with the greens.
He sided with rude, dangerous people, and named the worst of them as your sworn sword.
When he told you about his choice you begged him, you cried, you did everything you could to try to change his mind but it was all to no avail.
Now, all the other Ladies never sat with you, they were afraid to speak with you, all because of some dark, evil, scary person standing behind you, following every step you took.
It was so obvious how much he hated being a night, yet, he stood his role perfectly.
Aemond was always there, lurking like a shadow behind you, his presence cold and heavy, suffocating your every breath. He never spoke to you unless necessary, never showed any warmth or softness in his voice. There was nothing but formality and distance, a thick wall of indifference that made your skin crawl whenever he was near.
To be fair, the only thing you thought interesting of him was his dragon Vaghar.
Your days had become a game of silence, your once carefree nature now replaced with the constant awareness of his eyes on you. You missed the days when you could write to Jace without a worry, when his words brought you comfort and a glimpse of hope. Now, the letters felt like a secret rebellion, something dangerous, but you couldn’t give them up. They were the only link to a world that still held some warmth.
You still wrote to him, though your letters had become shorter, more cautious. You dared not mention Aemond, or your isolation. Instead, you spoke of mundane things, of books you were reading, of the changing seasons. Jace’s responses, too, had shifted, though he remained kind and attentive. There was always a note of tension, a hint of restraint. You knew he was aware of the shifting tides, of your father's allegiance to the Greens.
 You happily walked in your room, smiling as you held the newest letter on your hand from Jace.
Aemond was walking right behind you, but you couldn’t care.
Jace's letter had just come.
You chuckled to yourself as you closed the door of your room behind you, leaving Aemond outside, guarding your door. 
You jogged to your desk, sitting down on the chair and breaking the sigil, opening with trembling hands the letter.
There were only a few lines written.
You furrowed your brows, confused. He usually wrote at least one page.
Dearest friend,
I assume you have heard of my family’s recent loss, my sweet brother Luke, gone by the hand of my uncle Aemond. 
It saddens me to tell you this, but due to your father’s allegiance and your newest sworn sword, I believe it is time to end our communications.
Jace Velaryon
You felt a pain in your chest.
A deep pain.
You weren’t going to receive any more letters from him. 
I believe it is time to end our communications.
You stood up from your desk, leaving the letter to hit the floor as you ran to your bed, laying face down, your arms crossed under your face as you bursted into tears.
You didn’t eat lunch, you didn’t have dinner. You didn’t want to get up from your bed.
Your maids, even one of your closest friends tried to walk past Aemond to check on you, but he was impenetrable, he wouldn’t let anyone in, not if you didn’t want them to.
His behavior left you speechless.
You knew he was loyal, you knew he was one to do his duty, but the way he stood up for you, not letting anyone in just as you asked, left you almost flattered.
The hours dragged on as you laid in your bed, the room dark and suffocating. The weight of Jace's words still lingered, pressing down on your chest. It was as though the last thread connecting you to the warmth of your past had been severed. You felt utterly alone, the castle walls seeming colder, the silence more deafening.
But outside your door, Aemond remained, steadfast and unmoving. His presence felt different now, less like the shadow you despised and more like an unavoidable part of your life. He had become a constant, whether you liked it or not, and now, oddly, that constancy brought a shred of comfort in your moment of loss.
By the time the moon rose high in the sky, you hadn’t moved from your bed, save to cry quietly into your pillow. The pain of Jace's rejection, not just of you but of the friendship you had cherished, was overwhelming. You couldn’t bring yourself to think of anything else, let alone leave your room.
A soft knock echoed through the thick wooden door. At first, you ignored it, thinking it was another maid or friend trying to check on you, Aemond would have taken care of it in a moment. But after a moment, there was another knock, firm yet measured, followed by a voice, calm, collected, and unmistakably Aemond’s.
 "You haven't eaten." He said, his tone devoid of his usual coldness, though it was still restrained. You laid still, wondering if you could pretend you hadn’t heard him. But the silence lingered too long, and it was clear he wasn’t going to leave. He was your sworn sword, after all, bound to you, whether you liked it or not.
"I’m not hungry." You muttered into your pillow, your voice muffled and thick with the remnants of tears.
There was a pause, a moment of hesitation, which was unlike him. Then, Aemond spoke again, quieter this time. "It has been hours. You should take something, if only to keep your strength."
His words were filled with disinterest despite the meaning of them. He made impossible things possible.
"I don’t want anything." You repeated, more firmly this time. 
The door opened with a loud creek, and Aemond just walked inside. You scoffed, annoyed, but you felt too sad to think about him pissing you off.
“Leave me alone!” You groaned on the mattress, clenching your hands into fists. You could hear him moving in the room.
“That puppy of my nephew is what has reduced you in this state?” He asked, scoffing. You turned your head to look at him, and you saw him looking down at a letter in his hands.
Jace’s letter.
You bolted upright on the bed, fury boiling inside you at the sight of Aemond holding Jace’s letter. His tall, imposing figure seemed even more oppressive in the dim light of your room. His one good eye flicked over the page with a mixture of disdain and cold amusement, while the sapphire in his other socket glinted in the low light.
"Give that back!" you demanded, your voice cracking from the tears and frustration, but Aemond made no move to return the letter. He dropped the letter, letting out another scoff.
“You’re a fool.” He said, his rudeness making you red to your ear.
“How dare you talk to me like that?” You exclaimed, indignited.
“He’s a bastard. You’re sweet on a bastard, the son of my whore sister. That’s foolish.”
You felt your blood boil at his words, each syllable a sharp jab to your heart. “You don’t know anything about me! You think you can judge me just because you think you're so much better than everyone else!?”
He stepped closer, towering over you, his expression a mixture of contempt and something unreadable. “I am better than everyone else. I’m surely better than that boy who has no right on the throne he wants to claim so much.”
Your anger flared, but underneath it was a deep sorrow. “He’s more than just a name or a title! Jace has been kind to me, and you—” you pointed an accusing finger at him, “you are the one who brings darkness wherever you go.”
Aemond’s eye narrowed, the air crackling with tension. “Kindness won’t save you, and neither will that bastard. This world isn’t built on sentiment. It’s built on strength and blood.”
“Strength?” you spat, incredulous. “Strength that comes from killing boys? That’s your idea of strength?”
He looked unfazed, his expression hardening. “Luke was weak. That’s why he’s dead.”
“You’re twisted.” You hissed. “It brings you pleasure, doesn’t it? Being feared, see people looking away from you –” He pushed you back before you could continue, as he started pulling off the upper structure of his armor.
You stumbled back as you looked up at him, confused and stunned, but he pushed you back again as he took off the lower part of his armor, making you fall back on your bed.
“You want to know what brings me pleasure?” He grabbed your ankle, dragging you down the bed until your butt was almost over it. He pushed the skirts of your dress up, exposing your legs.
“What do you think you’re doing?” You tried to close your legs, or pull down the skirts, but he raised your legs up, then he leaned down to grab both your thighs, spreading them apart, pressing his face against your underwear.
“This.” He mumbled against the thin clothing, his nose pressing against a funny spot against you, that made a strange sound come out of your mouth. “This brings me pleasure.” He growled as he pulled down your underwear along with the stockings. “Teaching stupid ladies their places.” He said as he dived his face back between your thighs, now his mouth pressing on that same spot, sucking and rubbing with his tongue, leaving you breathless for a moment, the pleasure was so high and so good you couldn’t speak.
You couldn’t see him, your skirts were covering the view, but you didn’t really care. Not when it felt this good. 
You didn’t think you'd ever felt this good. 
The one who was making you feel good, was a Targaryen Prince, a child murdered, the rider of the largest dragon in the world.
You could only squirm, your mind numbed by the pleasure, slowly overcoming all the alarms your brain was sending you, telling you to push the prince away, to not let him touch you in such an appropriate manner.
But then, all so suddenly it stopped, leaving you panting heavily. You saw Aemond raising his head from between your legs, coming into your field of vision.
His chin was wet, his only eye almost completely black as he looked down at you.
His hands moved on your skin, almost gently, caressing your skin as they moved up, your knees, your ankles. He wrapped his fingers around your ankles, securing your legs raised, your feet by each side of his head.
You should have stopped him.
This was improper, it was a sin. A sin you were committing with the worst man in the Seven Kingdoms.
You wanted to move, kick him back, telling him to stop touching you with his filthy, blood-stained hands, but under the dark gaze of his single eye you couldn’t move.
Aemond tightened the grip on your ankles, suddenly pulling you up so your hips lifted from the mattress. Startled, you let out a weak squeak, gripping the sheets tightly as your body moved forward, the back of your thighs landing harshly against him, your core rubbing against a protuberance on his pants, the impact sending another jolt of pleasure through your body.
“Yeah, you like it.” He hummed to himself as he dropped you back on the mattress. He leaned down, his body making space for himself between your legs as his face came to hover yours. “And you want to feel it more, don't you?” He smirked, looking down at you.
You could feel your face burning because of his words, more likely because of the truthfulness of them, because yes, you wanted to feel it again.
“No-” You mumbled as you looked up at him, directly in his eye, trying to sound firm, but he simply chuckled, grabbing your face with his hand, his fingers digging in the soft skin of your cheeks. “Such a liar. No wonder why my sweet bastard-nephew doesn’t want you.” 
That stang.
Your eyes immediately filled with tears and anger.
“How dare you?” You hissed as you tried to push him off of you, slapping his chest repeatedly, but he only smiled even more.
“There, there…” He hummed as his hand went back underneath your dress, finding you private again. No matter how much you fought, his body was keeping your legs apart, and he seemed impossible to move.
You only stopped when you felt a strange feeling, something filling you in a way you’ve never felt, that made you gasp out loud. You unconsciously let out a moan, your back arched instinctively, as your body almost contorted as he started moving his finger inside you.
“So easy to shut you up, mh?” He asked as he followed your face to be able to see every expression you made. “So easy to put into place.” He added then in a low voice.
You gritted your teeth together, trying to find in you the force to push him off, to not give him the satisfaction he was showing with that damn smile of his, but you couldn’t. The only sounds that came out of your mouth were whines or soft moans as his finger moved faster inside you, caressing everywhere inside you, and eliciting a pure bliss of pleasure.
“Jace is a fool for leaving you.” He said as he looked at you, your eyes half closed, your head leaned back, your lips apart. He didn’t even look like he realized he said that, it was like he was talking to himself and accidentally said it outloud. You turned your head to look at him, finding his eyes fixed on you, staring in appreciation. “You’re a rare beauty.” He said, his voice low and rough.
You blinked slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. A warmth spread across your chest, but you weren’t sure if it was the pleasure or the way his gaze lingered on you. 
No.
You thought to yourself.
Not him.
Please.
But the way he looked at you, like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world was doing something to you. It made your stomach clench, your head dizzier.
You’ve been told countless times by suitors that you were a sight to see, a beauty, but it did nothing if not make you blush or feel appreciated.
With Jace you felt your heart beat so loud you feared it could jump out of your chest.
You too were aware of your beauty, but you never thought of it as a rareness.
But now with Aemond Targaryen, the cold, mean, cruel man, who was doing unspeakable things to you, who looked at you like a Goddess, you truly felt like one.
Aemond’s gaze pierced through you, a silent intensity in his expression that made your breath catch in your throat. You wished you could deny the way his presence and actions were affecting you, wished you could ignore the way his words stirred something deep inside. But the truth was undeniable. 
As he slipped his second finger inside your thigh core, you felt it crushing on you. You didn’t know what, but for a moment, you forgot about everything, Jace, the war, Aemond’s sins, your worries, your anger and your sadness, it all vanished by the newfound feeling of ecstasy. You whined louder, making aemond clamp his other hand immediately over your mouth to muffle your sounds as he kept moving your fingers. You looked at him with wide eyes, you didn’t know what had just happened to you, but you wanted to keep feeling it, no matter what cost, you wanted to feel that good again.
He kept pumping his fingers inside you as you saw him starting to move, rub, against your thigh, some hardness pressing and caressing your skin. His brows arched slightly, his eye narrowing slightly as he pressed his hips harder against you, seeking more friction and pressure. 
You’ve never seen a man do a face close to that one.
You’ve never seen Aemond make a face like that, and it was beautiful, it was breathtaking, hypnotizing, you felt like watching him all day as he experienced his pleasure.
He didn’t miss the way you seemed affected, obviously. He looked down at you and found you staring at him, his eye darkened even more, his pupil dilating even more if possible as he clenched his jaw.
“You like this?” He looked down at you, moving his hand from your mouth to your neck, gripping it tightly, but not enough to actually cut your air off. You tilted your head back, wrapping your hands on his wrist and arm, gasping as he slipped his fingers out, passing them over your pearl just to see you squirm, his lips moving into a smirk. “No.” He said as he sat up in his haunches between your legs, forcing you to spread them to make room for his body as he started to undo his pants. “You love it.”
You tried to look down, trying to understand what he was doing but he squeezed your throat into a warning, keeping your head in place. “What are you trying to see, uh?” He growled as he pushed his pants down enough to let his cock spring free. “Such a curious menace, always getting into trouble.” He hissed as he leaned over her to look at you from above. “Always sneaking around, making my life harder.” He gritted his teeth. “Making me chase you.” He raised her skirts to your waist as he aligned his cock to your core, wet and warm, hot.
“No – “ You mumbled as you felt the tip pressing on your skin. “Y-you can’t- We’re not married-” You mumbled as you panted, shaking your head. Aemond smiled down at you, his thumb caressing the skin of her neck. 
“No one will notice.” He said firmly, pushing slightly, making his tip grace the inside your core, just slightly, enough to hear another moan from you. “Just…” He groaned as he repeated the movement, moving his hips forward as his face contorted in pleasure. “... the tip – Fuck –” He groaned as he started moving his hips, the tip of his cock was being sucked in every time by your cunt, as if it was trying to keep him inside. 
It didn’t feel bad.
She did feel like her cunt was being torn apart, but she found the pain mixed to the pleasure extremely pleasing.
It was good.
It was so good.
The pleasure was so overwhelming, so strong, so blissful.
“A-Aemond – “ You bit your lower lip as you arched your back, jerking your hips to find more pleasure as his tip kept slipping out and back in.
Aemond couldn’t tear his eyes off the sight, your core making a wet sound every time he slipped in, your walls forced open to make space for his thick cock, his red tip being welcomed in the warmness of your body, and then the sound of your weak wail every time he pulled back, only enough to be able to push back in.
“Yeah like that –” He growled as he tightened his hand around your neck, his eye still fixed on how your bodies connected, his thrusts regular, calculated and hard.
He was hanging by a thread, and he was showing a great amount of control, just by not slamming his whole long cock inside you, and making you scream in pain and pleasure.
“Grind yourself like a whore –” He snarled as he started rolling his hips faster, the wet sound growing louder along with his pace. “Fuck youre so tight – You’re squeezing me inside - ”
It didn’t bother you the way he called you, the way he spoke. If not, it only aroused you more.
You bit your lower lip harder, and no matter how low you tried to keep your noises, it became impossible as Aemond moved his free hand, using his fingers to circle your pearl, putting just the right amount of pressure. Your back arched violently as you threw your head back, your mouth open in an oval shape, grunts and moans coming out one after another as Aemond tightened his hand around your throat, starting to cut some of your air supplies, your eyes rolled in the back of your head.
It was all so much.
It was all so good.
“Come.” He growled as he finally looked up at you. “Come, before I lose it.” His eye fixed on yours. He looked feral. He looked like a chained animal, that once set free, would have hunted and killed everything in its path. “Come, before absolutely ruin you.” 
It wasn’t like you had any control over it, because when the pleasure reached you in such a hard, strong frisson, you could only surrender to it. Your eyes widened, your mouth opened, but Aemond tightened his hand on your throat even more, killing every sound you could have let out. Your eyes watered as your hips jerked, the pleasure washing over you in devastating waves.
He snarled, letting go of your throat, but you barely had the time to take a deep breathe because you felt a stinging pain, barely muffled by the aftershocks of you climax, as Aemond grabbed tightly your hips and harshly pulled to him, making you slip down on the bed and making his cock thrust completely inside you, as he moaned on top of you.
“So fucking tight.” His voice was strained, his breathing heavy, then, you felt a strange sensation of wetness inside you.
You whined as the bliss of pleasure slowly faded away, leaving you in an uncomfortable pain, so you pushed Aemond away, who retrieved with a groan, slipping out of you.
You slowly sat up, looking at him as your mind slowly registered the last moments. 
Aemond stood up from the bed, tucking himself inside his pants and starting to put his armor back on.
You didn’t say anything in the meanwhile, you just stared down at the bed covers, where you and Aemond were laying till a few seconds before, committing one of the worst sins ever.
A sin that felt so good.
You snapped out of your moment of trance only when you heard the door slam shut, and a strange smell of burned paper in the air. You moved to the end of the bed, on the floor, there was a piece of paper on fire.
Jace’s letter.
Part 2
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sahisan · 2 months ago
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— curiousity killed the cat.
featuring . pm!dazai osamu.
tags . suggestive, so slight nsfw. civilian!gn!reader. dazai's a bit sick. just pmzai things yk (he's scary). weapons described (he has a gun). blood mentioned. gunplay mentioned (brief suggestive description). wc 1.8k.
author note . this is so random i don't even know if the paragraphs do well together bc i just poured my most random thoughts into it and i was sleepy and barely managed to proofread it. yep. i imagined mostly 20-22!pmzai here. continuation kinda here.
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dazai hid many things. he hid them well; years of being on constant standby, awaiting, on guard about anything enemy or not related. he hid in the shadows no matter day or night, but the shadows didn't always necessarily mean him only scrambling around in narrow alleyways or in the safety of the headquarters—in reality, he spent little time in the latter, nor did he 'lurk in the shadows' often, unless on a mission.
he hid everything from everyone, including you; of course including you. and the thing that bothered him the most was you finding out about what he does. did. has done. keeps on doing every day. not only does he not want the port mafia's countless enemies to know about you, but dazai also dreads the thought of you getting even a little bit closer to the truth of what he does for a living. he thinks of how he might slip one day and just reveal his true nature, intentionally or not, and either let you be disgusted and scared or kill you immediately because you might report to the police; it bothers him in both ways.
dazai avoids the area of your home when out at work. he makes sure to put on some casual clothes before visiting your place. when things are bad, work routine and you colliding together closer to night, he makes sure to hold a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide in his inner pocket to quickly wash away the stains of blood from his clothes. he keeps a bit of cologne there as well, to hide the stench of blood he usually reeks of during the day—he doesn't even use cologne daily. if you need him right after work, he disposes of his weapons, giving them away to the underlings that follow his word.
everything is always under control.
like tonight. he'd had a "kill and dispose" assignment, after which he'd had to go to yours and spoil you with a movie night he promised you. ah, the long-awaited respite from everyday bloodshed.
yet he was still on guard; he always has been, but today was busy and rough and all he needed was your embrace and a movie as a background noise while he showered you with kisses and cuddled you with neverending hugs.
and dazai forgot.
already at your doorstep, already having ringed the bell by your front door when dazai looked down at himself and—
fuck.
there was a small but clear blood stain right next to his tie. ah. how great. he definitely won't have time to remove it, but he might try to win some time to divert your attention from it if you notice—and you will, if he doesn't do anything about it.
with the door opening, dazai threw himself at you, literally waltzing into your apartment, hip to hip, your left hand in his right and his left hand at your waist, he led you through the corridor in an almost hasty improvisation of a dance, causing his tie to sway just in the right direction and have you giving him a look that screamed "you and your antics again?". good.
"ah, you look especially divine tonight," he mused, nuzzling your neck and making you place your chin on his shoulder; very good, the stain was out of your sight at least for now, and he couldn't be happier about that. "i haven't had dinner yet but i already know what i want for dessert."
distract. distract and avert and keep away—best tactic of dazai's that rarely failed, and he was used to putting it to use everywhere he could, including you. you could be perceptive or gullible, didn't matter—it worked wonders on anyone and will continue working for as long as he wanted to.
dazai swayed you around a few more times, dancing his way into your living room while humming a nauseatingly sweet, random tune he made up in his head a second ago. hip against yours again, he let a content smirk wash over his lips.
a clank. soft, quiet sound of metal clanking once echoed through the room, and it was almost eerie silence aside from his barely audible humming just as his hipbone met yours.
that didn't sound good, considering the only thing on his hip was—
ah. dazai forgot two things tonight.
in reverie about cursing himself head to toe in his mind, he lost the sensation of your touch until it felt too suspicious and he was too late, you reaching for the side hem of his coat and tugging it away from his side to reveal it to the light. you were always so curious, and he couldn't tell whether it was bad or good for him in general.
the soft clink echoed once more as your fingers grazed the object, and his eyes narrowed. the gun. shit. in his distracted state, he'd forgotten to dispose of it along with wiping away the blood.
dazai's hand shot out from beneath the coat, and he knew he wasn't doing himself a favor by raising his hand to grab yours, only revealing the holster further, but he didn't necessarily give a shit right now. he ought to do more than care about the gun right now, like a proper boyfriend, first being calming you down and assuring you it's not loaded and isn't as scary as it looks and that you shouldn't be afraid and the second being change of course of the conversation so seamlessly that you forget about the weapon for the rest of the night at least (unfortunately, the last sentence never crossed his mind).
but when did dazai ever go according to an adequate plan?
his hand held yours in the air, palm gliding up and down your inner forearm, trying to, first, soothe every negative emotion that might come up on the surface of your face, as well as keeping your curious hand away.
"ah-ah-ah, how naughty," dazai purred, voice dripping with false sweetness even as his eyes glinted with dangerous amusement; what he was supposed to be doing absolutely slipped from his thoughts the second he sensed the quickening of your heartbeat and breath and the cautious halting and tensing of your body against his, and he was already getting hard just from this. sick. "what did i tell you about wandering hands, hmm?"
he ground his hips against yours once after that, letting you feel the growing hardness in his pants. distraction. that was the key. keep you focused on his body, on the pleasure he could give you, and you'd forget all about that pesky gun in no time.
“careful there, baby. wouldn’t want you to accidentally shoot yourself,” he said with a twisted, growing grin. his other hand, previously holding your left one, slid away from it to cup your cheek, thumb brushing along your jawline in a mockery of tenderness, visible eye looking down at your mouth.
"i'd hate to see those pretty lips marred by blood."
and yet, once he'd lifted his eyes up to yours, dazai could feel you tense under his touch, heart racing beneath your skin. he knew that look in your eyes, that widening of your pupils; he was all too familiar with it. fear. he had been so focused on the thrilling, twisted satisfaction the situation brought him momentarily, that he hadn't noticed how his actions were affecting you. his grip on your wrist loosened, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your inner wrist.
dazai sighed, deciding it was time to stop scaring you with both his demeanor and the weapon, even if it wasn't what he wanted right now at all; he had a switch to pull off, an appearance to keep up in front of you. ah, but how he'd love to prolong that moment for just a little longer: your fear palpable in the air, that scared glance you cast at him once, the trembling of your hands, hitch in your breathing and increase of your heartbeat.
maybe later.
"easy, easy," he murmured, voice low and soothing even as his mind raced. he tapped the holster twice. "it's not loaded, see?" a lie. "just a little souvenir," a lie. the gun was always loaded, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice, but you surely didn't need to know that. he'd already subjected you to more horror than a civilian would need to witness.
dazai leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke. "you know i'd never be involved with these types of things and would never hurt you, right?" honey-sweet, dripping with false sincerity words. what he was absolutely best at was lying and manipulating, and he couldn't even control it anymore; if he needed you to believe, he will make you believe, one way or another.
"but you also shouldn't go poking around where you don't belong," he purred lowly with an audible dangerous lilt to his tone, lips now moving lower and ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck. "who knows what kind of trouble you might find yourself in. curiosity killed the cat, you know. you never know when you'll be the cat. and I'm not sure i'd be able to live with myself if something happened to you."
dazai could try to keep you away from his sicko tendencies and mind and thoughts that were all over the place and mingled together; the thoughts of protecting you from all of this meeting the ones of putting that gun to better use that just shooting people. and right now, he was barely holding it all in.
think of it this way: the thoughts of keeping his precious favourite civilian away from the corrupted knowledge and pain and feeling you tremble in fear underneath him, with the barrel of his gun tracing over your bare skin and getting dangerously close to where you'd need him most? oh, did the latter make dazai's stomach contort with desire and hips buckle up into yours. he would have to think more clearly about this later when his head wasn't a wreck of everything at once, but now...
"you want to play with something hard, baby?" dazai murmured in the end, all sultry and beaming with desire. "i'll give you something much better than a piece of metal to wrap your pretty fingers around."
dazai was sick and his mind twisted and he didn't get how he could ever keep someone like you by his side, but he supposed it was fate; and for as long as fate was merciful to him, he would make good use of it.
"but behave, hmm?"
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happy74827 · 1 year ago
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Shadow Knight
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[Joe Goldberg x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: One thing to know about Joe, is that he’d do anything to protect you. Regardless if you want him to or not.
WC: 2776
Category: Hurt/Comfort [TW — Joe]
Finally wrote a Joe Goldberg fic. My friend begged me to write him so I did (you’re welcome @summerrivera777777). I really don’t know what else to say… so enjoy!
『••✎••』
You were his. That’s all Joe cared about in his head. He thought of you and only you.
He remembered that night after your first kiss. You had told him that you loved him. It was a warm summer night. It had been dark, but the stars were shining so brightly that the moonlight shone through the window. You had made him feel things.
It was such a new feeling.
It was scary but exhilarating. This wasn’t like Beck or Love. It was different. It was amazing.
He wanted you, and he was willing to do anything to keep you.
When he found out about your annoying pest of a neighbor, he had been a bit put off at first. How dare he come in and try to woo you from under his nose? He couldn't help but laugh at the thought of the short, small, wiry guy being able to compete with his stature. Joe clearly outranked him, and he wanted to make it known.
It started off as a little harmless fun, a way for him to see what this guy was capable of. A way for him to test your limits and then go even further.
Joe knew how to push the right buttons. And it wasn't long before he had him right where he wanted him.
Now, he would be able to protect you. You didn't have to worry about that scrawny little bastard hurting you anymore. Joe would take care of you. He was so good to you and would continue to be so. He was yours.
He would keep you safe from all the dangers that lurked in the world. He had found himself wanting to help you in that way, protect you, provide for you. He could feel it. He wanted you to depend on him, and he was eager for that moment to come.
For now, all he wanted to do was watch. He wanted to watch this short little guy attempt to steal his girl from under his nose. He wanted to watch the pathetic creature get on his knees and beg. He wanted to see you tell him to fuck off and then run back into his arms. He wanted to watch you beg him to take care of you.
“Oh, Joe,” you had whimpered against his lips. He held you closer, keeping you safe and close. Your arms snaked around his neck, holding him tight to you. Your legs wrapped around his hips, allowing him to hold you up.
He felt so big and strong against you. He always felt so strong and reliable. He always made you feel so safe and wanted. He always made you feel so loved. He always made you feel like you were the only woman on earth, and you always wanted to feel this way forever.
His mouth left yours and moved to your neck, kissing and sucking there. His hands groped your body, slipping under the thin material of your t-shirt. He continued to kiss and bite down your neck, feeling your pulse against his lips.
He was in heaven. He was living a dream. This beautiful, smart, funny woman was all his, and he could feel himself becoming overwhelmed with emotions.
He pulled back to look at your face. You had a serene expression, one that Joe often saw when he made you come undone. You were perfect. You were everything to him.
His hands cupped your cheeks, and he kissed you softly. You kissed him back, opening your mouth for him to taste you.
Joe loved this. He loved every minute of it. It wasn't just about sex for him anymore. It was about sharing his love with you. He had given you the most sacred part of himself, and you had given it right back.
He was so happy he thought he could burst.
Your front door suddenly flew open, and Joe dropped you on your couch as quickly as possible, making sure to fix his shirt in the process. He moved in front of you protectively and glared at the small figure standing in the doorway.
He glared down at the man. His lips were pressed in a tight line, and his jaw was clenched. He was so pissed, but he wasn't going to allow that bastard to see it.
“Jared? You do realize I didn’t give you those keys just to open my door whenever you want, right?” Your voice was stern and angry, causing Joe to smirk. He was so proud of you, of your ability to stand up for yourself. You tell him off.
Joe watched as Jared ran his fingers through his messy hair, looking nervous and flustered. He looked at you and then at Joe before glancing back at you. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth, but he closed it quickly.
He tried again but only ended up stuttering and not saying a word. His eyes were darting back and forth between Joe and you as if he were looking for a way to escape.
Joe watched as he looked like a fish out of water. He had never seen this guy speechless before, so he was enjoying every minute of this.
You seemed to have finally had enough, as well. You threw your hands up and sighed loudly, rolling your eyes at Jared's awkwardness.
"Is there something you need, Jared? I’m really busy at the moment." Your words were sharp and short. Again, Joe smiled at how badass you were. It was hard to believe that a month ago, you were this nervous little thing. You couldn’t even say the word 'no,' and now, here you were, telling off this guy twice your size. You were just a ball of fire.
“I, uhm... I just... I wanted to see if you were okay after what happened earlier today. I was worried, I guess." Jared said. His voice was quiet and sounded so small. He sounded nervous and fidgety. Joe almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
He might’ve even felt sorry if he didn’t catch what he had said.
What happened… earlier?
Joe gave you a look, hoping you'd fill him in. You were his girlfriend, the person he cared about more than anything in this world, but you were keeping secrets? What was happening here?
You seemed to understand what he wanted and looked over at Jared before glancing back at him. Joe tilted his head slightly, silently asking you to tell him what was happening. You took a deep breath and looked at him with your big brown eyes before turning to look at Jared.
"I'm okay, Jared, thank you. But I am really busy, and I have a lot on my plate at the moment, so I can't really talk. Maybe later?" You smiled sweetly at him. "I'll give you a call?"
He seemed to relax a little at your words, smiling at you. He took a deep breath and nodded his head. He turned to face Joe for a moment, just staring at him for a beat before turning back to you.
He sighed and seemed to deflate like a balloon losing air. "Okay, yeah. Just let me know if you need anything. I'll call you later, then. Have a good night." Jared gave you a quick wave before walking out the door and closing it behind him.
As soon as he was gone, Joe turned to look at you, waiting for an explanation.
"What happened today?" He couldn’t help but think of the worst, worrying that maybe you had met someone else. That Jared had hurt you or something.
Your eyes went wide, and you shook your head vigorously as if reading his mind. "Oh, no. Nothing like that. It was... uhm..." You took a deep breath, seeming to collect your thoughts. "It was just me."
You let out a nervous laugh, but Joe was still staring at you intently. "Okay, well, it was this thing." You hesitated for a moment, staring at him, and he nodded his head, encouraging you to continue. You took a deep breath and started explaining.
You went on to tell him about the charity event that you had attended. You told him how there was a guy that had been hitting on you. He sounded like a total creep to Joe, and he couldn't understand how you would let some rando put his hands on you. You had a boyfriend, for Christ's sake! How dare he?! Joe didn't know how he would've survived if he had seen you with another man. He would've beaten the shit out of that guy, but he would've also beat himself up for not being able to protect you from that.
He was your boyfriend. He was supposed to keep you safe and protected. It was his duty. He was going to protect you. He wanted to protect you.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Joe asked, keeping his voice low and even. He was trying to be calm about this, but he was quite the opposite. He wanted to go and hunt this guy down and find out exactly what happened, where he touched you, what he said. He needed to know where this guy was, and he needed to make sure he wouldn’t be a problem for you. He would handle it. No one would touch his girl. He would keep you safe. He would kill for you if that's what it took. He would do anything for you.
You sighed and dropped your gaze from his, staring at your feet. You had the nerve to be embarrassed about it. That made him even angrier.
"I don't want to make a big deal out of it. It was just a dumb charity thing; I'm sure it's happened to lots of people." You didn't even sound convincing to yourself, and the sight of your hunched-over figure was enough for Joe to lose it.
He took a deep breath and sighed loudly, feeling his anger building in the pit of his stomach. He was on the verge of exploding, but you were clueless about what he was feeling. You were trying to pretend like it was no big deal, and you didn't even realize what you had just done.
You were his. His to protect. He wasn't going to allow this guy to take that from him. He wasn't going to allow this guy to touch what's his.
Joe stood up from the couch and started pacing around the living room. You watched him curiously for a moment before following his movement. You stood up from the couch, ready to stop him from walking around, but he turned around suddenly, looking at you. He glared down at you for a moment, and you stopped in your tracks.
“Did you get his name?” His voice was dark and dangerous, like a predator that was ready to kill.
You hesitated for a moment as if you were debating with yourself. He watched your face as you thought, waiting for your answer. Your brows furrowed as you thought, and your bottom lip was between your teeth. You were worried about something. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew that he wasn't going to like it.
You sighed and glanced up at him with those big doe eyes before glancing back down to your feet. You seemed to be looking at his shoes, counting the laces as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.
"I did." You murmured.
"What is it?" His voice was a low growl.
"Joe, this doesn't-"
"What is his name?" Joe snapped, glaring down at you. He didn't mean to yell, but it was taking all his energy to hold back. You flinched at his tone, and he wanted to punch himself.
"I don't want you to get involved in this. I'm okay. I promise." You said. "I just want to forget it ever happened. Please, just let me take care of it." You sounded so defeated, and Joe wanted to reach out and hold you, but he knew he needed to hold himself back. He needed to keep himself from you for a moment. He wanted to get out of his own head before he did anything stupid.
"How?" His voice was cold, colder than he meant to let on.
"What?" You looked up at him, and he felt like he was looking into your soul. It was so beautiful and pure. You were so innocent and good, so sweet and soft. He never wanted to do anything to hurt you. He would protect you and keep you safe from all the bad things in the world. This guy included.
“How can you forget it happened?" He said, glaring at you. "What did he do? What did he say to you?" His voice was getting louder by the second, and you took a step back, flinching again. His stomach twisted as he saw your reaction, and he tried to calm himself. He took a deep breath and tried to speak calmly. "Did he touch you?"
You looked away from his face and sighed. Your gaze landed on your feet, and you seemed to be counting the laces in his shoes again.
"It doesn't matter what happened," you said.
"What did happen?" Joe asked again.
"Joe," you said, looking up at him with those pretty brown eyes, "It really doesn't matter, okay? I don't want to talk about it."
"I need to know."
You rolled your eyes at that and threw your hands up. "Why? So you can go after him and make it worse?"
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He knew he had to tell you. " You’re scared. I don’t want you to be scared anymore. I want to help you."
He wanted to take away that fear. He wanted to take care of you. He wanted to be the only person you needed to protect yourself. He didn't want you to be afraid. He wanted you to be able to feel safe and loved.
"You can't protect me all the time. Sometimes I have to be able to stand up for myself and do this stuff, Joe." You sounded defeated, but Joe shook his head.
"You shouldn't have to."
"It was just one guy." You shrugged your shoulders. "I can handle it."
"You shouldn't have to! Just… Please, just let me help you." His voice was pleading. He knew he sounded desperate and pathetic, but he needed to be the one to protect you.
You didn't say anything to that and looked back down to the floor. Joe's eyes followed you, staring at you for a moment. He noticed that you weren't moving anymore.
“Jim,” You murmured quietly, your head still bowed. It was so quiet that Joe wasn't sure he heard you right.
"What?"
"His name is Jim," you said, looking up at him with your big brown eyes. "Jim Haynes. I saw him in the building this morning when I was walking to my car. He lives in 1515."
He heard you. You told him.
You gave him what he wanted, and he couldn't help but smile. It was a wide smile, one that you saw often on Joe.
He grabbed your waist and pulled you in close to him. You squeaked as you were being moved across the room, and you held your breath as you realized where he was heading. You knew what was going to happen, and you couldn't help the rush of excitement and heat that filled you.
You watched his face as you moved, seeing his big brown eyes glued to yours. Your mouth went dry as you stared back into his dark eyes. You felt your pulse race as his gaze felt like a touch.
“Thank you for trusting me.” He whispered, his breath tickling your face. He was truly so happy to finally be given this information. It felt good knowing that he could help you. He could keep you safe from harm.
He pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was slow and soft. You could feel the emotions on his lips, feel how much he cared. You could feel how much he wanted you. He pressed his body against yours, wanting to feel you pressed against him.
Tonight, he would protect you. Tomorrow, he will make sure you stay protected. But right now, he was going to take care of you. He was going to be there for you.
He was going to take care of you, and then, he was going to take care of Jim Haynes.
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leighsartworks216 · 2 months ago
Text
Nyctophobia
Sylus x gn!Reader
I still have to sleep with some sort of light on at night and I was like well what would Sylus think about this. And now here we are
Warnings: hurt/comfort, crying, kissing, nyctophobia (fear of the dark), embarrassment, fear, pet names, swearing, implied sexual content, established relationship
Word Count: 2,153
Main Masterlist
Love and Deepspace Masterlist
AO3
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You feel so fucking stupid. Not because you did something wrong or made a fool of yourself (yet), but because this dumb problem you had was so childish. Even a 10-year-old is braver than you, a literal fucking Hunter!
You pout at the nightlight on your laptop. Sylus’s black card sat on your coffee table, just waiting to be used. And yet, the thought of using a card with access to millions of dollars (perhaps billions), just to buy a nightlight, halted you in your tracks, He hadn’t even said much about anything else you’ve bought before, and what he did say usually encouraged you to buy more expensive, lavish things. Surely, he wouldn’t flinch at this at all.
But that stupid, unrelenting voice in your head made buying the light impossible.
Which sucked.
It really, really sucked.
‘Cuz every time you stay in the N109 Zone in Sylus’s manor-slash-base, your room is so dark. Being in the lawless area doesn’t help, either. All the violence and danger you’d seen walking in the streets at night painted visions of stalkers in the corner, murderers with knives under your bed, and worse, just waiting for you to close your eyes and sleep.
But you don’t want to impose on the nice atmosphere Sylus has cultivated in his home. So you sleep with the light off, clinging to your blankets and telling yourself over and over again that nobody else is in the room.
Your phone buzzing interrupts your pity party. You shut your laptop and place it on the table next to the card. It buzzes again as you pick it up.
What’s wrong, sweetie?
I’ve only seen you make that face when a plushie falls out of the claw
You look up at your window. Sure enough, Mephisto’s red eyes greet you.
Stop spying on me >:(
Fine
The mechanical crow disappears from sight. You can just barely hear his caws as he flies off back to the N109 Zone.
But my question still stands
It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it
Sweetie, if someone says not to worry about something, people are going to worry about it
Damn him for giving you a chance to tell the truth. And damn your brain for reminding you that if you tell him the truth, he’d probably laugh at you. What does he have to worry about when he sleeps anyway? He’s already a light sleeper, but he also sleeps during the day, when creeps skitter from shadow to shadow. He wouldn’t understand.
Like I said, it’s nothing
Nothing happens for a few moments. The little dots to signify he’s typing don’t even show up. You can’t help wondering what he’s doing. What he’s thinking.
Maybe he’s getting ready to start the night, getting into his car so Luke and Kieran can drive him around to his many business dealings. Or maybe he’s picking out a vinyl from his shelf, taking it from the paper casing with a delicacy only shared with you, and setting it up on his phonograph. Or maybe he’s mimicking you: sitting on the couch, staring at the phone, wondering what to say next.
The dots appear, finally.
Come to the N109 Zone, kitten
Let me cheer you up
If Mephisto was still lurking around, he’d have seen just how fast you packed your things and hopped onto your bike.
Yes, the N109 Zone is dark and scary and extremely dangerous at the best of times. Yes, you’d be forced to sleep in the dark once again. Yes, your mind would play tricks on you and you’d probably stay up all night anyway.
But Sylus is there. And you haven’t seen him for almost a week. Who could blame you for jumping at the opportunity to spend time with him now?
-
Sylus greets you at the door with an amused smirk. “You got here fast.”
You playfully glare at him, smacking his chest as you pass by. “There wasn’t any traffic,” you tease.
The manor is as dark as usual. If it’s not black, it’s dark red. If it’s not dark red, it’s the occasional white furniture or golden accent.
Sylus trails behind you as you beeline it straight to your room to drop off your stuff. He leans in the doorway as you toss your bag onto the plush bed. “You seem to be in a better mood now,” he hums.
“I always feel better when I get to see you.” You smile up at him. It’s a soft remark. Genuine. Not the usual joking, back-and-forth banter you’re usually all too happy to supply during your visits.
His expression melts into something just as tender. Just as honest. He casually pushes himself off the doorframe and crosses the few steps it takes to get to you. His hands cradle you like one of his precious antiques, tilting your face up while he cranes his neck until the world has shrunk to just this moment.
He grins. His eyes keep glancing down at your mouth. You grab onto his waist. Your fingers curl into his soft red sweater, desperate to keep him this close. His lips brush against yours, stealing the air from your lungs.
“Then let me make it worth your while.”
-
It’s still dark when you wake up. The navy blue behind the curtain carries no hint of light, reassuring your sleep-addled brain that there is still plenty of time before day.
You roll over, silk sheets caressing your bare form, fully intending to go right back to sleep. Cold air slips underneath the blanket. You shiver and pull it tighter around you. Without thinking, you reach out toward the other side of the bed. It’s too large for just one person. The bed is cold beneath your fingers, even as you reach out farther.
You blink open your eyes, blearily staring into the darkness, searching for some answer you can quite grasp yet.
What are you reaching for…?
You turn your face into your pillow, determined to ignore that strange feeling in your gut and enjoy the last hours of the night. The rich scent of bourbon and vanilla catch on the edge of your senses. It smells just like Sylus…
You open your eyes again. Where’s Sylus?
Your fingertips brush the edge of the bed as you reach out. A discordant chord of terror strikes in your heart as you quickly pull your hand back. Thoughts of something reaching out to grab you flood your mind. Your heart races, chasing off the last ounces of sleepiness from your body.
You pull the blanket even tighter around you, curling it under your feet and tucking it into your sides until you’re in a cocoon of safety. No matter how hard you strain your eyes, you can’t see anything. But in your mind, everything can see you.
You curl up into a pitiful ball.
You could get up, but you can’t. What if something grabs your ankles?
You could grab your phone, but you can’t. What if something is waiting in ambush and your phone is the bait?
You could do a thousand things to get out of this darkness. But you can’t, for a million reasons.
The door knob slowly turns. The only indication the door has opened at all is the sound of the lower edge brushing against the carpeted floor. No light comes in from the hall. It’s all pitch black. The door clicks shut.
You hold your breath.
Footsteps. Large, heavy footsteps. They don’t stomp. You’re not sure if it would be better if they did. They creep around the side of the bed.
You don’t move.
Weight shifts the mattress. Slowly. Deliberately.
Your heartbeat pounds in your ears. You strain to hear anything else.
Something slides over your blankets.
You squeeze your eyes shut so tight you see spots. You bite your lip to avoid making sound.
The something - a hand, you think - wraps around your waist.
You flinch.
Oh god, oh god, oh god. They’re gonna know you’re awake. They’re gonna cover your mouth or stab you or put a pillow over your face or-
“Kitten?”
Your body shudders as you finally let yourself breathe. You grab your pillow as you quickly sit up and swing it at the face of your lover.
“I thought you were gonna fucking kill me?!”
Sylus laughs, chucking the pillow back onto your side of the bed. You can’t see him in the dark, but your body can’t stop taking in every ounce of him that it can. His smell - the bourbon and vanilla tinged with a natural musk. His voice - that rich, lively sound of his laugh and the breaths he takes. His touch - his hand, trailing patterns over the blanket at your hip.
You crawl toward him, clinging to his chest like a koala. He’s still shirtless from your escapades. His hand slides to your back, pulling you in tighter to him. You can feel the rumble of his voice in his chest. You press your ear against him to hear more.
“Why would you think that?” he asks once he’s gathered himself.
You don’t answer. You squeeze him tighter.
“Sweetie?” The amusement is replaced with concern. His other arm wraps around you. The muscles tense with the slightest effort. He says your name.
Relief settles heavy in your bones. Tears prick at your eyes, while you remain utterly powerless to stop them. “It’s too dark,” you whimper. It’s all you can think to say.
His arms tighten around you as he rolls onto his back, pulling you on top of him like you weigh nothing. He begins playing with your hair. “Does it scare you?” he asks softly.
You nod. You pull one of your hands out from around him to wipe the tears off your face and his chest.
God, you feel so fucking pathetic.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
You don’t answer. His chest rises and falls with you on it, moving with his sigh. He pulls your hand away from your face and replaces it around him. You want to fight it. Complain about how gross it is to get all your tears on him. But he shushes you gently and you can’t find the strength to try.
“Do you want to go downstairs?”
You nod again.
The world shifts as he sits up with you. He pries you off of him so he can stand up, but he doesn’t go far. He grabs his sweater off the ground and helps you put it on. Then he goes through your dresser for some clean underwear. He helps you stand and slides them on. You don’t open your eyes. You don’t want to see the darkness. So you hold onto his shoulders. You put all your trust into him, and he refuses to betray it.
He lifts you into his arms like you’re a damn princess. Usually, he’d throw you over his shoulder, but not this time. This time he’s careful, treating you with the utmost care as he carries you down the stairs and to the living room. With a wave of his fingers, the lights turn on, black and red left in its wake.
“It’s not dark anymore,” he promises as he sits down. You keep your face safely tucked into his neck. He rests his cheek on your head. His fingers go back to your hair. His other hand rubs patterns against your bare thigh.
After a while, your terror finally dissipates completely. You can see the light shining through your closed eyelids. Feel its subtle warmth against your skin. When you find the strength to open your eyes, the warm, comfortable ambiance of Sylus’s home greets you once more.
You use the sleeve of his sweater to wipe at your face. “I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks. You cringe with embarrassment. “It’s stupid, I know.”
He hums noncommittally. “Is this what you were telling me not to worry about?” he asks instead.
You nod. “I was looking at… at nightlights,” you admit in a murmur.
“What kind?”
“Hm?” You pull back to look up at him. He lets you, meeting your gaze with a soft seriousness. “What d’you mean?”
He smirks slightly, eyebrow quirking upward. “I mean, what kind of nightlight would you like, sweetie? Fairy lights, a wall light, one of those animal-shaped ones that glows…”
You frown and look away. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”
“I’m asking,” he cups your cheek and guides your face to look at him, “so I can buy you one. Now, will you tell me, or do I have to buy every single nightlight on the market?”
You laugh despite yourself. “I have it pulled up on my laptop…”
He grins. “Good.” He pulls you into a chaste kiss. “Don’t hesitate to buy it next time. Or to tell me what’s wrong. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a sad kitten.”
---
Tag List:
@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44
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midnightsunnyday · 5 months ago
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There are some things Diavolo can't or rather, shouldn't say to you.
One being the many times you've avoided death. There's a reason he invited you to lunch that afternoon instead of allowing you the pleasure of ingesting your hastily packed meal. And while he isn't one to brag, this would make the...fourth unsuccessful attempt at the unauthorized use of your soul through undisclosed means this month? Granted, you may've noticed or heard rumors of certain demons going missing off or around the RAD campus. You may also notice Barbatos being a part of those rumors. He hopes your inquisitive nature doesn't cause you to dig too deeply into the matter. As always, such things are nothing to concern yourself over.
The other being, well, how should he put this? Naturally, he wants your stay in his realm to be as pleasant as possible, yet humans, despite their moxie, are not mentally fortified for some of the...unique creatures that roam the Devildom. Demons are scary, yes, but there are worse. And while he tries his best to have you avoid them, said creatures are especially attracted to humans.
It's why he consistently danced around the question of allowing you to stay the night. The Demon Lord's castle is only his in name, yet some things, despite various attempts to rid them, still prowl its halls. They enjoy the shadows. Await in cracks and corners. The gardens are especially troublesome. The being that lurks within the hedge mazes avoids detection and has yet to be caught. They've also yet to identify the thing that appears in mirrors and steals one's reflection, as Asmodeus learned the hard way.
It's also why, for the past few nights, he hasn't allowed you to sleep beside him without holding you in his arms. Conveniently, you find the act romantic more than the extra protective measure that it is. They like to stand on your side of the bed the most.
Unfortunately, this means you'll have to sleep at the House of Lamentation for a few nights, at least until this issue is resolved. He can't have you waking out of your sleep to such things, nor being eaten alive.
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johnwickb1tsch · 6 months ago
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Everyone is sending GIF requests, so, here is mine. Hint: Jealous John? (Though I doubt this man can ever be jealous but...whatever comes to your genius brain)
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Thanks!
@sweetwolfcupcake SWEEETS!!!!! I loved this prompt SO MUCH!!! You're such a genius. *kisses your head* I hope you like this! 💗💗💗
Bodyguard!John Wick x Shy!Curvy!Fem!Student!Reader
⚠warnings: threat of noncon (not John), mention of parental death
For the record, you didn’t mean to fall in love with John Wick. But he was nothing like the other goons your father had tasked with guarding you before.  Wick was tall, and handsome, and had the soulful eyes of a poet. You know he’s dangerous; he can kill a man 30 ways with a pencil (the men of your father’s Bratva will not shut up about it) but he seems so…gentle. And the thing that really proved your undoing?
That good looking bastard was bookish, and it did something inconceivable to your lit major brain. Ever your dark shadow, you spent countless late nights in the library together, and so many Saturday afternoons browsing the used bookshops, combing for treasures. He would rescue the books that looked better fit for the waste bin, taking them to repair. Maybe he was there to protect you, for your father had many unsavory enemies, but it was easy to forget when John discussed with you the finer points of the Bloomsbury Set or the themes of Anna Karenina.  
Maybe your father assigned John to you because he was one of the few gangsters around in his brigata one could trust to guard a relatively innocent young lady–that didn’t mean John was safe from you. You just couldn’t help yourself; you’d like to plead insanity, your honor, the night you finally broke and tried to kiss him, while he was helping you with your homework for Russian Lit 301. 
How stupid you felt, how utterly pathetic, when he’d very kindly dislodged you from his so soft mouth, looking at you with pity in his sad dark eyes. “You know…we can’t do this,” he told you.
Mortified, you’d fled to your room and cried, knowing you are the most ridiculous human being on the face of the earth.
What were you thinking?
You are nothing like the tall, ethereal creatures that populate the clubs where Wick frequents with your father. You are shy, and curvy, and frankly…a nerd. An old soul, your father would say fondly, but you know he is just being kind.
You’re not sure how you got it into your head, that you were going to make Wick sorry. You’ve never been one for going out, but you decide to give it a whirl, wanting to be anyone but yourself. You decide to go to the Red Circle, to hang out with the other Bratva brats who care way more about clubbing and clothes and who’s fucking who, than classes at NYU. 
At first you really hate it–but after a few shots of vodka, it’s not so bad. John has to hang back, keeping an eye on you but not interacting with your friends. He’s scary good at lurking in the shadows, but you know he’s keeping an eye on every move you make. Maybe that’s why you let Alexsei kiss you, the son of a semi-friendly loan shark who works in proximity with your father. You don’t really like him, if you’re being honest. But he’s not totally hideous–and he’s there–and John will have to watch it all. 
You and Alex start to have a thing. It’s no big deal. Something to do, on the summer break from your studies. You invite him over to watch a movie, knowing you’ll have the house to yourself. Your father is always at his office doing business, your idiotic brother is always out getting into trouble with his khuligan friends, and your mother…is dead, God rest her poor soul. 
You can tell Alex is a little drunk, when he shows up at your door. He’s very handsy, when you settle in on the couch to watch the latest mindless action flick, his pick. It’s ok, until he tries to unbutton your pants.
You have a secret. 
You’re 21, nearly graduated from university–and you’re still a virgin. 
This is not a thing you intend to give to Alexsei Plushenko. You don’t even really like the way he touches you.
“Stop, Alex.”
“Don’t be scared,” he tries to coax you. “This will be fun.”
“No,” you say. “Let’s just…”
He covers your mouth with his, shutting you up, his heavy body pinning you on the couch. “Don’t be such a stuck up bitch.” His groping fingers squeeze your breast clumsily, painfully, before fumbling with your jeans again. You try to push him off, but he’s heavy, and strong.
Suddenly, he is yanked from you like he weighs nothing at all. You hardly recognize what is happening at first, until you hear the sound of flesh striking flesh. John is on him, his iron fist meeting the younger man’s face. 
“John! Stop!” 
Wick looks up at you, meeting your eyes in a primal lock of stares–your heart drops and soars again, as you feel as though you’ve stumbled on a wolf over his kill, and the wildest thing?
You get the inkling that wolf is jealous. 
“Don’t hurt him anymore,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. A beating will make some complications for your father. A death? Could mean war.
Wick punches the handsy young man one more time, his eyes never leaving yours, before hauling Alex up by the collar and frog marching him out the front door, tossing him down the concrete steps of your home.
John finds you waiting for him in the marble foyer, his eyes wild, his knuckles torn. You don’t even know what to say. 
“What did you even see in him?” he finally demands, clearly annoyed.
“He wasn’t you,” you answer without thinking.
Wick steps up to you, toe to toe, so that you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes. His hair has broken free from its slicked back style, tendrils in his eyes.
He’s never looked more beautiful, your savage savior.
“You’re trying to get me killed.”
You shake your head, the very thought anathema to you. You are transfixed, unable to look away, unable to think. “You’re too precious to me,” you admit, and screw your eyes shut the moment you admit it, a spear of mortification piercing you from your heart to your stupid, aching, cunt.
“Milaya…” 
It’s the sweetest thing he’s ever said to you.
Your eyes drop to his knuckles, torn open in his defense of you. “You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Not to me.” You don’t know where you get the courage, to take his hand, and lead him up to your room. You can hardly believe it, that he actually follows you. In your ensuite bathroom you dab at his knuckles with a washcloth, slather him with ointment and plaster him with bandaids. You run out of sober flesh colored ones, so the last cut gets a Disney bandage, Ariel and sea-flowers decorating this severe man’s knuckles. 
He lets you do all this, watching you intensely with those dark eyes you’re certain can see into your soul. You stand too close–and he lets you, this haunted man who watches over you day and night. Your whole life you have never wanted for anything, your father’s money buying you all your heart could possibly desire.
Until now.
You find it hard to meet his eyes, zeroing in on a spot of blood on his stark white dress shirt. 
“Y/n.” With a gentle knuckle under your chin he turns your gaze up to his again. “You are too smart, and too beautiful, to be wasting your time with a fuckboy like Alexsei Plushenko.”
The first part you already knew. The second, from this man’s lips? Your knees nearly collapse out from under you, a flood of excitement and dread coursing through your system. You almost can’t stand it–it’s like being burned alive, and your native shyness rears with a vengeance. 
You try to flee, back to the safety of your room, and your books, your imaginary lives that can’t really hurt you–but he catches your hand. His grip is not hard, but it is enough to stop you dead in your tracks. 
“Y/n…” He’s pleading with you, but you don’t understand what he’s asking you. 
“You said you don’t want me, John…” you say, still unable to meet his eyes. “So let me go.” 
He answers by pulling you against him, the solid line of his torso a brick wall beneath the hand you raise to catch yourself. But bricks are not warm, like the flesh beneath his designer clothes. You can feel the wires in your brain sizzling, the synapses simply melting down. Your heart is Chernoble waiting to happen. 
“I didn’t say that.” 
“You said–”
“I said, ‘We can’t.’ Not, that ‘I don’t want you.’”
You almost cannot breathe, your heart attempting to beat out of your chest, a ringing in your ears that drowns out all else. There is nothing, nothing, in this world you’ve wanted more, than to hear those words from this man. But now that he’s standing before you, against you, holding you–you cannot move. You do not know what to do. 
He solves this problem by cupping your cheek in his big hand–God, how you’ve noticed those hands–and then he is pressing his mouth to yours, gentle at first, but then…hungry. As though John Wick has been starving, for you, and it’s all you can do just to stand there and take it without melting into a puddle on the floor. His arms wrap around your back, holding you, lifting you to your tiptoes as he devours you. When at last he pulls back you are left seeing stars, struck utterly speechless with your hands on his broad shoulders. 
“Tell me to stop,” he raggedly demands, his eyes boring down into yours. 
Finally, you find your courage, meeting his stare. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whisper. 
“Good. Because I don’t think I can.” He kisses you again, just as hungrily as the first time, his arm an iron band around your waist and his fingers sneaking up into your hair. That’s your kryptonite: your hair, and blithely you know he can do anything and everything he wants to you now.  
Your father is a bad man, but you have not had a bad life. You have never known hunger, or true physical pain. He has protected you from the violence of his world. He has played things smart enough that not even the FBI can touch you, even though they absolutely know what he is and where your family gets its money. Despite all this, you have been dying inside, a slow, withering demise, until John Wick’s lips touched yours. He is the life-giving rain over the desert; your heart is a field of wildflowers erupting in a superbloom. 
This time, he leads you, in between kissing you, to the loveseat at the foot of your bed. He sits, and only when he tries to pull you into his lap do you resist. “John…I’m too…much,” you insist, conscious of your generous flesh and what it would be like to set that on top of him, afraid he’ll be horrified. 
However, he just scoffs at you, grabbing you up anyway and guiding you down. For a moment you are weightless–he knows how to upset a person’s balance, how to use their weight against them to put them on the floor. This time he uses it to put you on him. You’re not exactly proud of it, but the ease with which he utterly manhandles you makes your long-neglected lady parts sing with desire. 
“You are perfect, dietka,” he insists, pulling you closer with hands on your round behind, “And I am very strong.” For the first time in you can’t remember how long–he smiles at you. That beautiful half smile with a sparkle in his dark eyes that takes your breath away–you love him so much it hurts. 
This time you don’t feel so shy, about kissing him. You feel like your bones are filled with butterflies, and you both moan and giggle as you do your best to devour each other from the mouth down. Aside from an appreciative squeeze of your thighs bracketing his hips, he doesn’t try to seduce you, even though you know you absolutely would have given him anything he asked you for. He is content, just to kiss you, for this night at least, and oh. He’s good at it too. 
You decide you would burn down the world, for one more kiss from John Wick.  
Later you find yourself snuggled in your bed with John, fully clothed, your head on his shoulder as he toys with the fine hairs at the back of your neck. His touch is heaven, and with your legs twined with his it’s hard not to squirm and writhe against his muscled thigh like a horny little gremlin. 
Later, you tell yourself. It can wait for later. 
Like maybe, tomorrow. 
“We’ll have to be careful,” he warns you. “If your father…” 
If your father found out, the best thing that could happen to John is getting fired. 
“I won’t let you get hurt,” you promise, kissing his bearded cheek, praying you’re telling the truth.
He chuckles at this; a deep sound you feel more than hear. “I thought that was my job?”
“You know what I mean.” 
“I know.” He looks down at you with a tenderness that curls your toes. “It would be worth it, for you.” 
Your heart has suddenly decided it would like to take up residence in your throat–permanently.
“Oh, John…”  
He kisses you again, a soft brush of lips that renders you weightless. This is how you die: it’s almost too much to stand, this impossibly full feeling in your chest. Then he narrows his eyes at you playfully. “You have been driving me mad, you little minx. I wanted to kill everyone who so much as looked at you in the Circle.” 
You snort at the thought–you do not understand, really, that he could absolutely do it too. 
“Not to worry. I think the library is more my speed.” He rests his head against yours with a small, contented sigh. “Mine too,” he admits. The smell of old books around you is a soothing balm to you both. 
You know small bits of his past. Morsels he has sprinkled, here and there in the conversations you have had. You know he did not have an easy childhood. You know that this life was not really his choice. Even less so than most, who move and work in the Underworld. 
“If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?” you ask. 
He lifts an eyebrow at you. “I’m liking New York, at the moment,” he tells you with an affectionate squeeze. 
“Oh come on.” 
“Fine. I like Paris a lot.” 
“Hmm,” you answer, but what you think, is: Done.  You will have the opportunity to arrange to study abroad soon, and you think a trip away from the Tarasov territory might do you both some good.
Surely Papachka wouldn’t deprive you of your most trusted bodyguard?
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fromduck · 11 days ago
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A Guided Hand
(Yandere Ghost x Horror Protagonist! Reader)
Tw: Gore
-unedited-
-I’m thinking about a Ghost who’s stalking this ditzy shy girl as she explores the haunted mansion where he resides in.
-He’s a scary Eldritch being, freakishly tall with eyes ripped from his skull. Long and thin arms that almost drag down to the floor. Long black hair that remains smooth and sleek despite his dirty appearance. His jaw hanging to his skull for dear life, he always has to readjust the darn thing to his annoyance.
-He walks slowly, dragging his feet almost like a zombie. He thinks it’s the damage his psyche endured when he was murdered. His killer didn’t hold back when he killed him, his brutality carrying onto the after life.
-He’s used to the scary environment where mad people wonder the halls, malicious spirts lurking in each shadow and monsters roam freely. All of them hunting down humans who mistakenly find themselves in the mansion.
-The others may find a thrill in the game of cat and mouse. But as someone who was a former human and victim, he finds no joy in doing what someone else did to him.
-So imagine his surprise at encountering a girl who is easy to scare and hides in the corner when shit hits the fan.
-He thinks you’re real cute and loves to scare tease you to death.
-Tugging on your hair, pinching your waist, blowing in your ear—-the bastard even flips your skirt up! Which never fails to make you scream or make you drop your flashlight.
-He can’t help it! He just loves your cute reactions!
-He just wants to pick you up and spin you around. Smush your cute chubby cheeks together!
-It doesn’t hurt that you smell really nice. Your sweet smell a nice change from the stench of death that permeates the mansion.
-But what he doesn’t like is when the other occupants of the house are hunting you down.
-He serves as your protector keeping you safe from all the other malicious beings of the mansion.
-When a crazed man holding a chainsaw came running at you and you went into shock out of fear, he had jumped into the murderer’s body.
-Possessing him was easy and so was driving the chainsaw into his belly. Killing the man instantly.
-Sure you might have passed out from the sight of gore, but at least you were safe!
-Along with protecting you, he does other things to help you.
-Guiding you in the right direction as you navigate through the dark hallways. Tugging on your shirt to go in the safe path with less monsters. As if to silently say, ‘this way.’
-Watching guard over you as you sleep curled up in hidden space.
-When your fear gets the better of you and you’re frozen with terror, he’ll give you a hug that you don’t feel. Even though you can’t see or hear him, you can feel his comforting presence and that serves to calm you down.
-You look around whenever he does that, and his deceased heart breaks when he realizes you’re looking for him. For the comforting presence that takes care of you.
-You recognize his presence and even labeled him your ‘guardian angel’, to his amusement.
-He really likes you and can you blame him for getting attached?
-He’s just looking for ways on how to speak with you. How to make it possible for you to see him. For him to touch you freely without having to concentrate really hard. He’d die another brutal death if he’d be allowed to run his grey fingers through your soft skin.
-He’s a ghost fallen in love with a mortal. And he’d do anything for you.
-It’s safe to say that when you leave this haunted place, he’ll be coming along with you 🤍
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ickygojo · 2 months ago
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halloween themed / hayride. g﹐satoru
⭑ SYNOPSIS [ wc﹐1.4k ] your boyfriend gojo wanted to do something cute and fun for halloween, but of course, adding his own satoru twist to it.
⭑ CONTENT [ mdni﹐nsfw ] content warnings for cockwarming, discreet public sex, pinv, crèampie. terms used are cöck, pūssy.
it had just past your two year anniversary with your beloved boyfriend, satoru. halloween was approaching, and you two wanted to do something cute and fun together, but knowing satoru, he would find a way to put his own twist to it. the two of you had talked about carving pumpkins, a halloween movie marathon, and even a corn maze but the thing that had him most excited was the haunted hayride.
it was a trailer full of hay to sit on, pulled by a tractor, through the woods; where many scare actors lurk in the shadows ready to pop out. you weren’t so fond of the idea, but satoru was more than excited. “you know how much i love scary movies, this will feel like we are in one!” he pleaded with you, knowing how much you hated being jumpscared. your reflexes always wanted to punch and then afterwards you were angry because you’d gotten scared. that’s why toru had to stop hiding around corners to scare you; after taking a fist to the nose and having you angry with him for a whole evening, over until the morning. you hated being scared, and this haunted hayride sounded like a nightmare. “we can dress up, make it cute and fun. c’mon babyyy you’ll love it!” satoru continued to plead, cooing at you and trying his best to persuade you with cute matching costumes. you hated to say that it worked.
you were more than nervous when the evening rolled around. you had been trying to prepare yourself for this all day— all week actually, and now that it was finally here, you wanted to chicken out. “i can’t do it.” you told him, a small pout on your face, your abrupt change of heart resulting in an even poutier face from your boyfriend. “but look at your outfit, we’d look so cute! and it’ll be so much fun! there will be food, maybe even drinks.” he was trying so hard, grasping at straws, telling you there’d be food because he knew that was your weakness. of course you gave in, put the cute little cheerleading costume on, which consisted of a white turtle neck, a blue and white top, a matching skirt and thigh high socks; not to mention the little blue and silver pompoms and bows for your hair. satoru was matching, but his costume was much more casual; blue jeans and a white t, a deep blue letterman jacket with silver and white accents to match yours, and his charming sunglasses, balanced upon the bridge of his nose. “high school sweet hearts, eh? yeah?” he nudged you, looking at the two of you in the mirror, ready for your little date. “oh! one more thing. no panties.” there it was. the gojo satoru twist, because you two couldn’t just go on a cute date without him wanting to stick his cock in you. “what do you mean no panties?” you chuff at him, but comply by beginning to take them off from beneath your rather short skirt. you felt as if your ass cheeks were peeking out as well, and didn’t know if you could go all night walking around like this. “it’s okay, you’ll be on my lap for most of the ride.” he gave a cheeky little wink before grabbing his things and ushering you out to the car.
the cold air hit your exposed skin as soon as you stepped out of the car and into the field, the wind chill giving you goosebumps. you could feel your skirt lifting, and tried your best to keep your ass covered, as much as you could in the miniskirt he had picked for you. the place was set up in a large, half empty corn field, which sat right on the edge of the forest. there were string lights throughout the woods to indicate the hayrides path, weaving through the woods along the edge of the cornfield before disappearing into the field itself, only to come back out towards the parking lot and concessions. eerie music was playing over speakers dotted throughout the venue, scare actors could be seen hanging around, interacting with customers in character, and most of all, popping out to scare the new comers. “c’mon, it’s about to start.” satoru grinned, pulling you towards the trailer. a handful of people began to pile onto the hayride, followed by satoru and then you, who placed yourself right on satoru’s lap, as he said. you couldn’t just sit down on the hay bales butt-ass naked. he knew what he was doing. you could already feel his bulge beneath you, the ride bouncing you around softly as the tractor tires rolled over hills of dirt.
the first of the scare actors began to pop out from behind the trees, some screaming and laughing, most with masks or face paint. while everyone’s attention was focused elsewhere, satoru began to fiddle with the button on his pants, hands working his cock free from tight denim only to be plunged into the tightness that was your pussy. you let out a gasp, masked by the fact that everyone else was gasping, squealing and screaming, nobody could tell the difference. satoru was surprised at how wet you were already, and how easily he was able to slide inside of you. you must’ve been thinking hard about what he was up to, well, you got your answer. “stay still.” that was an order, but it would be easier said than done, when the ride was bouncing you back and forth, and you kept getting jumpscared by the actors in the corn field. one of them ran out with a chainsaw in hand, revving it up extremely close to the hayride, causing you to jump and move on satoru’s lap; earning a small hiss from him. you could feel his cock pull out of you as soon as you jumped, his hands quickly gripping your hips and pulling you back down, hoping to god nobody saw you. “baby, stay still, they won’t hurt you.” this time it wasn’t an order, his voice was softer, and his hands began to rub soft circles into your hips, finding the hem’s between your sweater and skirt just to touch your skin. your attention was focused on your surroundings, while satoru’s was focused on your insides. how hot and squishy they were, how every time you yelped or got scared, your pussy would clench around him. he wanted to grope you, violate you right here in front of all these people, but he knew better.
he couldn’t help himself, knowing you were to preoccupied with everything going on around you, that he had to bring your attention back to him. he began to rock your hips back and forth, his own hips flexing in an upward motion to meet the rhythm he had going. you noticed immediately, glancing around to see if anyone else saw, before squeezing your thighs together and bouncing on it just a little bit, but not enough to make the ride shake, more than it already was. “c’mon baby, yeah.” he hummed against the skin of your neck, rutting even harder into your cunt. did he plan on finishing? everyone was watching the scare actor with the chainsaw, not paying a bit of attention to the couple on the back of the hayride, literally fucking. you could feel how tight your pussy was getting, the closer to climax you got. obviously satoru could feel it too, lips suckling on your neck, little whimpering noises as he did. you couldn’t focus on anything but him, and the feeling of him filling you up. “toru!” you gasped, feeling his warm load squishing between where your ass met his crotch. “sorry baby.” he giggles, giving your neck a few kisses. by then, you two had gained a bit of attention, a few sideways glances and double takes as gojo kissed on your neck. thankfully, by now, the two of you had stopped moving, but you had to get up and he had to resituate himself. he held you down for a moment, while the hayride stopped, waiting for everyone to get off of the ride before finally letting you stand, tucking himself away in his jeans.
you felt his hands grab your hips, hearing a small “boo” from behind you. “did you have fun?” he purred, hand moving from your hip to your ass, giving it a light pinch, his cum dripping down your leg as you walked towards the center of the venue. “mmm yes i did, did you?” you hummed back delightfully, trying to squeeze your thighs together to keep everything inside. “of course i did baby.” he beamed back, almost glowing before adding on, “let’s get you some food and some rest, yeah?” god if you didn’t have the cheekiest boyfriend in the world.
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yanderes-galore · 18 days ago
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hi! could I request a general romantic yan concept for black noir? thank you <3
Sure! I really like Black Noir as a character so here you go :)
Yandere! Black Noir Concept
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Stalking, Possessive/Protective behavior, Blood, Violence, Murder, Slight gore, Clingy behavior, Noir watches you sleep, Breaking and entering, Forced cuddles, Forced/Dubious relationship.
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To be fair, any Supe in The Boys would be a terrifying yandere to have.
However... Black Noir is definitely one of the scariest.
Almost as scary as Homelander, actually.
He's a lethal and ruthless assassin.
He's quiet and stealthy... always watching, always lurking.
He's loyal yet withdrawn, often even brutal with those not on his side.
But with an obsession? With you?
He has such a soft spot.
It's strange to see such a lethal killer immediately become soft with you.
However, Black Noir is often unreadable.
Not many know what's going in his head, not even you at times.
That alone makes him scary enough.
The most you know is from him writing you messages.
Oh... He writes you a lot of messages.
Honestly, it's better to have him on your side, yes.
But you don't understand why he likes you?
Does he just find you, an intern or assistant at Vought, cute?
Is that why he follows you around like you're a cute puppy?
Black Noir is a very quiet and observing yandere.
Although, I imagine he's also one of the more protective ones.
Just because Noir is protective, doesn't necessarily make him a hero.
If anything, he's a soldier.
One quite used to being used for violence.
I imagine Noir is more used to being manipulated than using manipulation.
Which is a good thing for you, as that means you can utilize his obsession to your advantage.
Noir would do anything for his obsession.
As said before, he's loyal to Vought, but also to his obsession.
Even other Vought employees notice Noir's odd fixation over you.
The quiet Supe often follows you around, appearing defensive when anyone seems to get too close.
Do they do anything about it? No.
Noir seems very docile with you around.
They can even tell his notes to you are rather affectionate.
Neat handwriting, the pages covered in hearts...
You no doubt know the Supe is attracted to you.
How could you not?
No other Supe is this attached to someone just meant to bring coffee and deliver paperwork.
Not like you're a Supe or anything.
The worst part is being unable to see him.
Even you know Noir won't leave you alone, office hours or not.
Noir could even secretly sneak into your home, hiding in the shadows to watch over you.
He's quiet after all, what's stopping him from watching you sleep?
We all know Vought can't keep track of their Supes for the life of them.
They may view letting Noir stick beside you as beneficial.
After all, if they lose track of the Supe, they know he'll be by your side eventually.
They never need to bargain with Noir for loyalty anyways... but if they ever did, they'd just need to hold you hostage.
So, congrats, you're now meant to be a way to make a Supe docile... without wanting to.
I imagine Noir mostly just likes to stare.
However, I can also see him being suffocating with affection.
You have to remind him to be careful... but Noir adores holding you.
Noir may understand the extent of his strength though... at least, that's what you theorize since he holds you like a baby animal.
He cradles you to his chest, nuzzling into you as he holds you close.
Again, other employees just accept the fact Noir likes to 'cuddle the intern'.
Jokes may even be made about it, much to your embarrassment.
Noir has no issues killing for his obsession.
He's essentially been bred for killing.
He's a super soldier.
Is it really that much of a surprise to see Noir goring someone over you?
He doesn't care how messy it is, either.
We've seen how disturbing it can get in the show.
He'll tear things off... gouge out others...
By the end of it, he'll be drenched in blood...
Yet still treat you as though you're as fragile as porcelain.
The switch he does around you is... unnatural.
You never seem to get used to how fast he'll change behaviors.
Would he ever hurt you? Not on purpose.
I think Noir deals with cuteness aggression so I could see him accidentally squeezing too hard.
Noir also ends up isolating you, but it's unknown if he's doing it on purpose or not.
He just seems to want all of your attention and is always around.
Other Supes typically stay away from you since Noir is so close all the time.
In a way they respect the fact he's attached to you.
Also, being on Noir's bad side is a poor choice.
Homelander stays away only because he respects him, not because he's scared.
Getting rid of Noir is near impossible for you.
If he gets in your home, he just... doesn't leave.
Who knows, maybe in his corrupted mind he views watching you sleep as protection.
Noir may even write fancy little letters to proclaim his feelings since he doesn't really talk.
It's hard to tell if Noir gets jealous... or if he's just overprotective.
When other Supes or people are around, he tends to pull you closer to him.
His grip is often tight... but the reason is vague.
You'll never feel alone with him.
Mostly because when you think you are... you aren't.
He's hard to see and knows your every habit.
Even if you can use his obsession to your advantage, you can't force him away from you.
To make him more unnerving... imagine if he decides to sneak into your home and lay with you in bed?
He doesn't do anything... just... cuddles you?
He acts like you're a stuffed animal at times and just... holds you really close?
He does it when you're working, when you aren't... just... any time.
Would he kiss you? Eventually.
He definitely prefers holding you... but I can see him moving his mask slightly to give you small kisses.
In a way you may just tolerate him or care somewhat because he's... useful.
Plus, you know you aren't getting away from him.
Noir treats his obsession as if they're a fragile rabbit.
Anything could hurt them... which makes him your protector.
If he ever disobeyed Vought, all they need to do is tempt him with you.
They know Noir loves you.
You've come to accept the fact you're meant to be used.
If Vought wants to keep one of their most skilled enforcers, you're needed.
It's hard to get used to the murder... and the blatant invasion of privacy...
But you have a feeling you have to get used to it, it's not like you can quit...
If you ever quit working for Vought, Noir will just follow you, and he doesn't intend to let you out of his sight now.
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Text
Lost In Day Dreams
|| Caitlyn Kiramman x fem!enforcer!reader
|| Warnings; reader gets hurt/faints, reader and Caitlyn talk about their fear of the Undercity, Jinx mentions/attack, Caitlyn worried for reader and pissed at Jinx, brief mentions of death but nobody dies
|| Summary; when out on patrol around the boarders with Caitlyn, a certain someone attacks.
Requests closed!
Started; December 4th
Finished; December 4th
HurtCember2024; Day 5, Faint
~~~
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Work was always tougher in the winter. The cold often slowed your movements, making tasks more difficult. Dangerous, if you were on a field mission. Today you were out with Caitlyn Kiramman, your field partner and girlfriend. The two of you were tasked with keeping an eye on Piltover's boarders. Obviously, you weren't tasked with the full boarders of the city. That would be impossible for the two of you alone. There were other boarder patrol officers. You and Caitlyn were just set to a small section, close to Zaun. Zaun always put you on edge. You didn't like being close to the boarder, but it was your job. You followed through regardless of your own comfort and opinions.
Caitlyn picked up on your unease, offering you a smile from a distance," I get it, you know. It's scary knowing what they're capable of," she spoke. Caitlyn's tone not one of judgement. Never with you. She wouldn't judge you for your fears because hers were one in the same with yours. She was scared of Zaun, too. Having seen some of the things they were capable of. That Shimmer... well, it was scary stuff.
You sighed. Fingers fidgeting with the edge of your clothing, you felt bad for judging them. You knew that not everyone in Zaun was as scary as Silco. Or even Jinx. You wanted to believe there was some good ones down there. Mixed in with the bad, there had to be. It wasn't all bad down there, was it? But if it was... the thought sent a shiver down your spine," I hate having boarder patrol here. Literally anything could happen."
"I know. If it's any comfort, I would never let anything happen to you," Caitlyn assured you. Her words brought a dust of pink to your cheeks. You straightened yourself, faking a cough with your fist over your mouth. Looking away from Caitlyn. Her words were just the truth, she wasn't trying to fluster you. But it definitely worked nonetheless. Caitlyn noticed your reaction and couldn't help but laugh in amusement," did I fluster you? I was only speaking honestly."
"Yeah, yeah.." You murmured, Caitlyn smiled at you. A look that held nothing but love in her eyes. She truly did love you, she was sure you were it for her. Whenever Caitlyn imagined her future, even with all its uncertainly there was always one thing she knew for sure. You would be there. Every step of the way, no matter what. She was yours, just as you were hers.
The two of you had been distracted with your own thoughts. Forgetting about the whole reason why you were here to begin with, too lost in day dreams. Neither of you noticed the figure lurking in the shadows. Watching, waiting for you and Caitlyn to lower your guards. Noticing the distance in your eyes, the figure took advantage. Striking so fast you and Caitlyn didn't even have the time to blink, let alone react. The next thing you knew, everything was black. Did you... faint? Die? Whatever happened, when you came to you were back in the Kiramman House. Caitlyn sitting on the edge of the bed. You recognized the sheets around you, the familiarity of the room. It was Caitlyn's. You'd been here a number of times to know it in any state you were in. Sitting up slowly, your hand brushed her arm. Startling Caitlyn out of her thoughts.
"You're awake," she was filled with relief. Her arms wrapped around you, clinging to you like you were her life support. As though if she were to let go.. you'd disappear. Your own arms wrapped around Caitlyn. Resting your chin to her shoulder with a soft smile. Though, your thoughts kept wandering. Wondering how long you had been out for her to be this worried. Although, Caitlyn would worry even if it were only a few seconds. So you didn't have much to go off of here. Letting go after a long moment, you looked into her eyes.
"How long was I..?"
Caitlyn sighed at your question, her hand resting to your knee. Giving it a squeeze. Needing to reassure herself that you were okay. "Nearly a day," she explained. Then added on when your eyes widened," it was only this morning when it happened. It's about... seven in the evening, now. You were out cold, she really got a good hit on you. I was worried it would be worse," there was a clear anger in her tone when she spoke. A frustration that you'd come to associate with one person. Jinx. Caitlyn really did not like her.
"'She'? Was it Jinx?" You didn't really have to ask. You knew it was, but you didn't want to assume and then be wrong. That would be a little embarrassing.
Caitlyn simply nodded. Her grip on your knee tightening, you looked down at yourself. Well. Whatever happened, you weren't hurt. And neither was Caitlyn by the looks of it. That left you with more questions than answers, but you knew Caitlyn needed a moment to calm down. Jinx was like a trigger for her. It always got her going, especially when Jinx involved you. So, you held off on the questions. Knowing that if she wanted to tell you more she would have by now or would do it in her own time.
Instead, you and Caitlyn spent the rest of the evening in bed. Curled up together and just recovering from your encounter with Jinx.
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terry-perry · 6 months ago
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Out of Business
Pairing: Alastor x Carmine!Reader
The next part of this
Tags: @mysterypotatoink @lokis-imaginary-friend @lonelysimp18 @readergirlstuff @amyking300 @for-hearthand-home @wonderlandfandomkingdom @purple-umbrella-girl @saccharine-nectarine @monomas-girl @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog @junieshohoho @yourmom132 @thebreadisthetruevillian @martinys-world @yui-onnero
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He lurked in the background, observing the lovely doe before him grazing on grass. She was a sweet thing that was none the wiser of his presence as he slowly snuck up towards her.
He did his best to muffle the static radiating off him. He was normally able to keep it under control, but lately, he'd been out of sorts. He could deny it as much as he wanted, but everyone knew what was happening. Further proof came in how he spotted the markings of a nearby tree as he got closer to the doe, leading him to release an audible growl, alerting the doe of his presence.
It was too late for her, however, since a large, dark tentacle pierced her middle, killing her in an instant. He pounced on the carcass and took a giant chunk of it by ripping it with his teeth. For the majority of the time, he isn't so primal with his food and takes his time with it. That day and the past few had him unreasonably angry at everyone and everything.
He was mad at Carmilla for speaking with him, Y/N for not giving him a chance to explain himself, and at himself for letting her go. At that moment, he was mad at what was carved on the tree, which now looked over him and made him feel more judged for his recent actions.
It didn't help that he still remembered how the markings got there...
Months ago...
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"Husker, my good man! I need you to serve only the finest bottle of wine tonight, you hear?!"
Everyone was caught off guard by Alastor's presence, seeing him trudge down the hotel stairs more animated than usual.
"I want things to be 100% top-notch this evening for me and my gal,"
"Aww, Alastor," Charlie approached him at the bar with curiosity and intrigue. "Do you have a friend stopping by?"
"Suppose you can say that," Alastor replied, still practically beaming as his shadow was conjured up with a mirror so he could adjust his bowtie and spruce up his hair. "I'm inviting a special someone to the hotel. Someone I've grown accustomed to after spending time with her."
"Oh shit! Am I hearing things right?!" Angel was the next to approach Alastor after hearing this bombshell. "Big, scary Alastor found someone he's willing to get it on with?"
Alastor snapped his head away from his reflection to glare at Angel, but it was only a second or two before regaining his composure. "I wouldn't put it so crudely, but yes. I have been courting someone."
Charlie practically squealed upon hearing the news. "That's great! I'm so happy to hear such news! She must be quite special to get you so happy and want to make this a lovely night for you both."
"Special, or out of her fuckin' mind..." Husk grumbled from the bar so only Vaggie, who joined the rest of the group, could hear and silently nodded in agreement.
"Thank you, my dear. I do request one thing. My lady love is a very private person and would rather keep our relationship under wraps for the time being. I assume you all can refrain from any gossip that can be conjured from our romance."
"Of course! Your secret is safe-"
"Why exactly do we need to keep this a secret?" Vaggie interrupted her girlfriend to offer the usual suspicion she reserved just for him. "You're not trying to rope us into some shady business, are you?"
Alastor refrained from rolling his eyes. She was always so distrustful.
His relationship with Y/N might've started as a potential business and a possible deal, especially since it was so easy to capture her heart so her soul would've been no problem. The more time spent with her, however, it instead was slowly turning into something else - something dearer that left him so unsure. Instead of him getting something out of her, he always made sure she'd want for absolutely nothing, no soul required.
He wondered how he could've gone through life and death not knowing such an endearing, trusting darling. She was kind and gentle but didn't possess any of the bubbly naivete Charlie did. She was not only aware of where they were but also came from a family of assailants and weapons dealers who raised her to be alert and to fend for herself. He both feared and admired that along with how she accepted him for who he was and never judged the darkest parts of himself.
It was all so new and a bit alarming, whatever this was. He just knew he had to keep a good hold on it--
----
Alastor's thoughts were interrupted by a tapping at his door. No doubt Charlie chose to stop by to check on him after he charged back to the hotel a few days ago, after his fallout with Y/N.
It wasn't the princess' dulcet tones that implored him, however, after some insistent knocking. Instead, Alastor heard a more unwelcoming voice that under more proper circumstances he'd find entertaining.
"Alastor?" Vaggie continued to call out to him outside his room. "Come on, let me in. We need to talk."
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selineram3421 · 9 days ago
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*😶*
The Night Before
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DDCR Headcanons 2
Alastor & Deer Demon Child Reader
Warning! ⚠
⚠ gender neutral child reader, nightmare, cussing and fighting in Bold, Italics= thoughts, hurt/comfort, "singing."-Alastor, song lyrics. ⚠
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It was dark.
Walking down the hallway to your parent's room was always scary, but you knew that Moma was at the end of it.
She was safe and warm, and nice.
But the noises you heard as you got closer scared you.
It was like thunder.
There was shouting and crashing noises coming from the other side of the door. You heard Dad saying bad words and more thumps, then Moma tried to speak but he kept talking louder.
"You're a fucking liar!"
"Please listen-"
"Shut the fuck up you good for nothing bitch!"
There was another loud thump, like something was thrown on the floor.
"I can't believe you spent almost all our money on food! What about the stuff I need to buy, huh!?"
"They can't drink beer and smoke!", your Moma yelled back. "We can't live off of that, its unhealthy and it smells! I bought the food for all of us!"
"Shut. The. Fuck. Up."
You were a few steps away from the door now. The only light you saw was from under the crack, the occasional shadow and the familiar sound of your dad's footsteps passed by in front of it.
"Don't tell me what to fucking do with my money!"
Why was he yelling at Moma? Wasn't he happy earlier? We had his favorite for dinner..
"Where's your money? You work more than me but always seem broke by the end of the month!"
"I've been buying-"
"So you are fucking spending!"
The yelling was scary, but you wanted to see your moma.
So you knocked on the door.
The door opened fast and when you looked up, you saw the scary face of a monster.
.
You woke up with a gasp and started crying.
Eyes flicking around the room, you found yourself in the familiar greenery of Alastor's room.
"Hn..", you sniffed and rushed to get out of bed.
Looking around, you didn't find the red deer anywhere in the room and felt a little scared to be alone, then went to the door to go downstairs.
One thing you liked about the hotel was that the hallways were lit. It wasn't too dark and you could see where everything was.
No scary monsters lurked around.
Running down the hallway, you take a few turns before you make it to the lobby staircase, hearing the familiar voices of Husk and Alastor.
"Just do what you are doing now."
"Yeah but what if they-"
Quietly making your way over to the two at the bar, you wipe away a few tears before tugging on Alastor's red coat.
"Alastor?"
The two stop talking and the red deer looks down at you.
"My little fawn? What happened?", he asked as he knelt down, wiping some tears but more kept falling.
"I had a nightmare..", you said shakily and sniffed.
"Let's get you back to the room.", he said before picking you up and turning his head to look at Husk. "We'll continue this conversation later."
You held onto his coat tightly and hid your face, feeling a little better now that he was around.
Alastor was safe.
The sway of his walk made you feel comfortable as he took you back to the hotel room. No more tears came out of your eyes but your nose was still stuffy and made you sniff.
Once inside the room, Alastor tucked you back into bed. Wiped your nose with some tissues, and pat your head.
"Go back to sleep little one."
"No.", you pouted.
"Why not?", he asked.
"I don't wanna hear Moma and Dad fighting again. I don't want to see the monster. Its scary in that dream.", you explained. "Its dark in that hallway."
"It was just a dream."
"I don't wanna go back to sleep.", you whimpered.
Alastor lets out a small sigh and then remembers the music box that the snake demon gave you.
Picking it up from the nightstand, the red deer winds it up before setting it back down.
The little melody soon plays and he hums along with it before singing.
"We may not have sunshine, or starlight, or weather
But we've got each other, and that's even better."
He sang and continued to pat your head, brushing your soft deer ears back as he did so.
"You don't need the sun to keep you warm when you've got arms
Wishes come from you and not a random shooting star."
You saw some fireflies and felt warm.
"We may not have storm clouds, but the sky's always blue."
He chuckled. "It's red but that didn't rhyme with the song.", he said before continuing.
Slowly, you fell asleep. Holding onto the end of his coat as you drifted off.
.
"We've got something special here
And what we have is you
What we have is you."
Then the Radio Demon noticed that you had fallen asleep.
"What we have is you~"
He finished the song and pecked the little deer's forehead.
"Sweet dreams little fawn. I will protect you."
.
.
.
.
.
The next day, Alastor called the Carmine line and left a message.
"Good day! I'm leaving this message to let you know that me and my fawn will not be able to attend tomorrows meeting. They are feeling a bit under the weather and I want to make sure they are taken care of. Don't bother calling back because I won't answer! Have a lovely day."
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*stares into the void* I woke up at 6 in the morning.
~Seline, the person.
Taglist@
@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying
@+more in the comments+
ML II Alastor🎙
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chimcess · 1 year ago
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A Picture’s Worth || jjk (I)
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Pairings: Jungkook x Reader Other Tags: Ex-Art Thief!Reader, Ex-Assassin!Reader, Ex-Gang member!Reader, Gang member!Jungkook, Assassin!Jungkook, Hitman!Jungkook, Thief!Jungkook Genre: Strangers to lovers, gang AU, mafia AU, Fluff, Angst, Smut     Word Count: 23.2k+ Summary: After pulling off the largest art heist of her career, Y/N has put that life behind her. However, after 4 years out of the business, she comes home to find a stranger in her house. Warnings: violence, blood, gang activity, mafia activity, mentions of death, actual death, crime, robberies, pickpocketing, graphic depictions of injuries, guns, knives, mentions of past torture, body branding (not too graphic), major character(s) injured, STRONG LANGUAGE, Gang tattoos, Abuse (not JK and Reader), JK is a bit of a himbo, but only with his friends, he’s actually quite scary, I’m not a gang member or anything so I could be wrong about that stuff, I tried my best, eventual smut, mutual pining, kissing (let me know if I missing anything) Author’s Note:Things were getting out of hand, so I made the executive decision to split this into two parts. This one is establishing plot so no smut (yet). Thanks so much for reading. She’s a big girl.
Listen to the Playlist || cross posted to ao3: here
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Five years ago
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There comes a point in a child’s life that they begin to ponder over what they will become. Some girls I knew dreamt of becoming lawyers, doctors, or astronauts. I remember there being a time when I had thought of more than the mountains I had lived in, possibly moving to California and starting my life over after I was finished with school. I had even played with the idea of owning a salon. I hoped that I would be pretty when I grew up with bright red hair just like Ariel. It was strange looking back on that time and how little had truly changed. 
While I had, in some ways, deviated from the life my family had wanted for me, I was still lurking in the shadows and biding my time. Instead of hiring me for hits, the players I worked for enjoyed the finer things in life. Patrons of the arts if you will. Staring up at the Rembrandt painting, it was not a wonder as to why.
Looking over my shoulder, I was relieved to see Hoseok in position. Locking eyes momentarily, I gave him a small, polite smile and returned to the painting in front of me. To the security cameras, we were simply two strangers who had a small moment in time. I knew that we were trying to use signals as much as we could without looking suspicious. A smile normally meant that I was confident I could pull this off. Hoseok’s returning nod was his way of saying he was happy with his own assessments.
The heist would take a few more weeks to plan out. Our buyer wanted 18 different art pieces from this museum, something that was doable with our team, as well as 38 pieces of jewelry. Taehyung and Jimin would be in charge of the operation. Walking away from the Rambrandt, I looked over other pieces with the same intensity to not raise suspicions. While the cameras here were not of great quality, they could still see us and that alone was enough to bother me. 
Stealing has always come naturally to me. Second nature. When I was young I pickpocketed, the artform far more refined now that I was much older, and my parents enjoyed how sneaky I could be when I wanted to be. We never stayed anywhere for too long, the last place I had seen them was Aspen six years ago, but my favorite years were London. The Underground was a perfect place to pickpocket. In a day I could swipe over 100 items and no one would be the wiser.
My tastes changed as I grew. There was a time when I hated the idea of being a criminal like my parents were. I disdain violence at the best of times, but there were very few ways of getting out unscathed. It was when I managed to steal jewels from a heavily secured store that I caught the eyes of The Saints. Hoseok was impressed by my attention to detail and offered me a way to get out of my family home. I was sixteen and impulsive. A little over ten years later I was still standing here, pickpocketing the wealthy and giving it to those just as fortunate. It had stopped bothering me years ago, the guilt, but there was always a piece of me that longed for those far away dreams of cutting hair. It almost made me laugh just thinking about it.
“It’s a beautiful painting, isn’t it?” A soft voice asked, suddenly beside me.
Turning, I was confronted with a familiar face. Yoongi hardly changed, his set lips and keen eyes unwavering. There was a long, jagged scar that ran down his forehead, over his eye, and down his cheek. He got the scar when he was still in the Irish Mob back in Boston. He was an earner with those boys and they gave him hell about leaving. Still, he had managed to walk away only to join a different side of organized crime.
“Yes, but not really to my taste,” I joked.
I had never been the biggest fan of abstract work. I liked it a great deal more than landscapes, it was at least interesting to look at, but the lack of effort had bothered me. It would never take off anyway. No one liked over priced paint splatters. Yoongi hummed.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it.”
Taking the cue, I stood as he walked off and began counting back from 500 in my head. Everyone would be heading back to the command now. Everything had been squared away for now. Taking one more passing glance at the Rembrandt, I sighed. Hopefully, when this is all done, I could walk away.
With my head held high, I slowly drifted toward the exit. Taking the time to look over art was another great way to cover my tracks. In order to stay a nobody, I had to be a nobody, and only a nobody would stop to look at a still-life of a bowl of fruit. I never did understand why these things were popular. Then, finally, after five more minutes of “ooo”ing an “ahh”ing at pieces I’ve seen every week for the last month, I was out of the door.
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Three years ago
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Blinking, I stood motionless as I stared at the cracks in the little apartment’s ceilings. It had been a difficult find, something so cheap in San Diego was a steal even if it was only 300 square feet. Smiling, I threw my duffel bag of belongings onto the futon I had brought earlier that day. Finally, things were going to start looking up.
I had flown in from Kansas the week prior and had made the most of cheap motel rooms until I scored this place. I had always loved California and finally I had made it home. Looking around, I found I was not as upset by the lack of space or functioning stove. In fact, it had been the lightest I had felt in a very long time. Only second to when I graduated from Aveda last fall.
Deciding to pick up what little boxes I had with me, I broke them down and tore them into strips that were easily thrown away. I was lucky the place had come with a small, countertop fridge and microwave. The only sink was in the bathroom, a room that was floor-to-ceiling covered in tile with a toilet, small sink, and a shower head. I would have to wear flip flops just in case. The landlord had recommended using a bucket since the hot water only lasted for about 10 minutes.
I did not have much. I had gotten into the habit of packing light and living even lighter, but I was determined to try this differently. I’ve gotten what I have always wanted and I was going to let anyone, or anything, take it away from me. Going to my duffel bag, I began packing out my folded clothes and organizing them into different piles before putting them away. I had bought a tall, skinny wardrobe at the same GoodWill I had gotten the futon from. 
Calling out to my phone, I asked Siri to play some music and got to work. I hated silence. Using the small drawers on the left side, I stuffed my underwear and pajamas on that side of the wardrobe. The right side was meant to hang nice things on, but I did not own nice things anymore. Instead hung were two pairs of jeans, a few dresses, and some shirts. I only owned black now. It was the dress code for every salon I had ever worked at- including the newest one. My shoes went on the shelves above the drawers and I made a mental note to buy a better pair of sneakers. I wanted to get outside more often.
Putting away the rest of my things was just as quick. My makeup was stored away on the desk that was attached to the wall beside the fridge. It was meant to be a dining area, but I doubted I would ever have company over to make use of it. My few skincare products were safely stored away in the bathroom mirror, and my kit was under my bed for safe keeping. I was suddenly acutely aware of just how sad everything truly was.
“Well,” I mumbled to myself. “Hopefully I can get enough clientele to get out of this shithole.”
At least, I thought to myself, at least I was free. 
With that in mind, I grabbed my keys and headed out into the city. It had been hours since I last stopped for anything and I would have no luck here for the night. Slipping into the hallway, I realized that I was happy. For the first time in a while I felt unadulterated. Things were going to be fine.
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Two years ago
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Clutching the pizza box with one hand and balancing it on my hip, I cradle my phone with my shoulder as I open the door to my building.
“The earliest I’ll be available is Thursday,” I said, my voice sickeningly sweet.
The customer, Jules, cheerfully asked if I had any availability on Sunday instead. Rolling my eyes, I reminded her that the salon was closed on both Sunday and Monday. This would be the third time I had to repeat myself.
“What about Saturday?” She asked, still as clueless as she had been since I had picked up.
“I’m free from 2pm until 3pm, but if you want a haircut and balayage I will need longer than an hour.”
“How long do you need?” Finally, I heard a hint of frustration slipping through her otherwise cheery voice.
“If you want the full layered balayage it can take up to three hours for hair as long as yours is. It can be shorter if you just want a partial- between 45 minutes to an hour and a half.”
Huffing up the stairs, I struggled to open the door to my floor and used my foot to keep it open while I awkwardly hobbled. Rolling my eyes, I wanted to pull my hair out. This would be the fourth time now.
“I can put you in Thursday morning from 8am until noon. I can also do Friday from 5pm until 8pm. I’m not available again until the following Wednesday.”
Jules hummed, unable to stay silent I found. We had been on the phone for twenty five minutes and I was beginning to get a migraine. She was sweet, and I appreciated her never ending patience, but I was not blessed with the same superpower. I had never been known for my temperament or politeness. I only had patience when money was involved. Shoving my door open with my shoulder, I willed those thoughts away. That was the last thing I needed to think about right now.
Jules was going to make me go rob a fucking bank at this rate. Banks weren’t even my thing. That brought a smile to my face and I put the pizza down on the single counter I had in the kitchen. 
“I guess Thursday will work then. I was just hoping to get it done before my birthday.”
Pausing, I sighed heavily. Wonderful. She was a guilt tripper. Little shit.
“What day is your birthday?” I asked.
“Oh! It’s Tuesday. My girls and I are going to the Cheesecake Factory to celebrate.”
And despite my better judgment, I opened my calendar and began looking at my schedule on Tuesday. Knowing I had taken the bait hook, line, and sinker, I just went right out with it. 
“We can try something if you’re open to it.”
“Sure, what’s up?” Jules asked, voice perking up.
“I can give you a partial balayage Tuesday and then you can come back Thursday to finish the rest if you want to after seeing the results.”
Jules squealed and began talking very quickly, her excitement palpable. I cringed away from the speaker of my phone.
“That would be Ah-mazing! What time on Tuesday could you see me?”
“I had a cancellation first thing in the morning. I’m free from 8am until 9:45. We’ll get as much as we can during that time.”
“Oh! I can definitely make that. Can we do the haircut on Tuesday instead of Thursday?”
Biting my tongue, I had to stop the smart ass comment I wanted to make from coming out. She was obviously very young or had little experience going to a salon. Still, it’s common sense that we would cut first. I’m not wasting products like that.
“That’s what I was thinking, too,” I settled on.
“Thanks so much, Y/N! See you Tuesday!”
“See you then, Jules. Before you go, can I get some information from you so I can put you down properly?”
After getting her full name, phone number, and email address, I let her go and logged into the salon’s appointment system to add her in. Our receptionist had quit two months ago and we were having a hard time finding a replacement. I tried to tell Tony he needed to raise the pay but he was not budging. Right now we were all stuck keeping track of everything ourselves. 
The pizza was not very hot anymore but was warm enough to not be too bothersome. Happy to have some extra money coming in, I went to the fridge and grabbed a soda from it. I bought a small cart to put my microwave on. The mini fridge just happened to fit perfectly below it. The small Keurig I bought myself for Black Friday was right beside the microwave. A snug fit but it worked. Taking a bite of the pizza, I leaned against the counter and groaned.
I was so happy to be home.
Home. It was a word I was still hesitant to say. It was hard to believe things were permanent even after all this time. Some nights I stared up at the ceiling and waited for a knock on my door. Even if Hoseok promised emergencies only it was difficult to know what the guys would consider an emergency. That world was so far removed from this new reality of mine that I feared I was losing my edge. Would I even be able to help them anymore? 
With doubt and a recurring nightmare, I fell asleep and dreamt of casinos and Rembrandt.
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One year later
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Sweeping up the floor, I glanced around the room to find myself alone. 
“Great,” I huffed. “I’m going to have to talk to Tony about this bullshit.”
It had been the third time the new hire, Sasha, had left without helping with cleanup. First he snuck out of the back when he was helping Tiesha, and the last two times had been with me. While we tried to keep the boss out of the personal issues we had at the shop, I was not about to let some 19-year-old walk around like he’s above it all. Angrily, I kept sweeping and hoped that the bastard got stuck in the worst traffic getting back on the I-5. 
Walking over to Andrea’s station, I rolled my eyes. She always forgot to put her combs in the sterilizing solution. Making quick work of that, I went around checking everyone’s stations to be sure it was all in order. Even Sasha’s. His desk was immaculately cleaned and I gritted my teeth harder. Seems like he’s one of those people. Feeling petty, I skipped sweeping under his vanity and kept going. Not like it made much of a difference anyway. Maybe I should steal his wallet tomorrow and help him look for it.
Fucking idiot.
No, I scolded myself. I am not that person anymore. I would definitely not go back to that lifestyle for Alexander Ivanov. Reminding myself that he was just a spoiled little brat, I continued sweeping hoping it would calm me down long enough to clear my head. If I let any of those ideas foster that would be bad. I’d have every valuable item that boy owned by lunch.
Suddenly the front desk phone began to ring and I chose to ignore it. It was five minutes after closing time and I did not feel like dealing with anyone else today. Sasha had pissed me off enough. I did not want some snotty customer adding to it. The ringing stopped and I was satisfied that they simply left a voicemail. 
Turning to go back to the staff room to gather the Swiffer, I was stopped in my tracks by the phone. A part of me wanted to answer it now. It had to be the same person. Still, I was off the clock and that was not a part of my job description. Destiny would handle it in the morning. The ringing stopped. I started walking. It started up again.
Peeved but resigned, I walked to the front desk and checked the number flashing on the screen. It was from out of state. Figures. Usually clients who wanted to come in on vacation called without realizing the time zone difference. Forcing a smile to my face, I picked up.
“Mane Street, this is Y/N speaking. How can I help you?”
“Ten minutes.” The line died.
I knew that voice from anywhere. Shaking, I placed the phone back on its modem and took a second to gather myself. Whatever the emergency was, I only had ten minutes to finish cleaning and get outside. Knowing Hoseok, he would be waiting for me near my car. Better yet, he’d already be in the passenger seat.
Scrambling, I began to mop the floors and Windex the mirrors. I refused to let this unexpected visit stop me from performing my job. I was happy Sasha had left. I probably looked like I’d seen a ghost. You have definitely heard one, my subconscious screamed.
I was locked up eight minutes later. I had been keeping count in my head just as I always had before. It was unsettling just how quickly I had transformed back into the person I had once been. Who was I fooling? I’ve been covering her up with scissors, a shitty studio apartment, and take out. That did not change the overseas accounts, fake names, and stolen jewelry I’ve kept. That doesn’t change the stolen art hanging on my walls.
Rounding the back of the store, I was not surprised to see my vehicle was the only one still there. Squinting, I could see the silhouette of a person’s head in the passenger side. The street light just in front of the pickup was facing the front, their side profile obscured by the light, but I would recognize Hoseok anywhere. He was hard but soft, jagged but gentle, and most importantly, his face was oval with a pointed chin. Anxiety bubbling in my stomach, I put on a brave face and marched forward. I would be right on time.
Hoseok did not say a word as I slid into the driver’s seat or when I closed the door. Not waiting for him to make a demand, I started the engine and turned on the AC. It was stuffy. Hoseok continued to look straight while I buckled my seatbelt and put the truck in reverse.
“Don’t go home,” He finally said.
Dread filled my stomach but I did as he said. Instead of turning left, I went right and headed for the little diner I enjoyed getting a late dinner at. It was the best place for steak and eggs. I was not sure if Hoseok would be hungry but I did not care. We never really thought about those things before.
“I’m glad to see you’re doing what you like,” He spoke again, his voice still gentle. “You look very nice, too. Like the new hair.”
I was always unnerved by this side of Hoseok. He was typically a very loud, energetic, and passionate man. Soft spoken and Hoseok had never gone together. Then again, it had been almost five years since I had seen him. A lot could change within that time. That, or whatever he was going to tell me would require softness. I hoped it was just a personality change from getting older. 
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m glad to see you’re healthy.”
Finally, he cracked a smile. “Hadn’t realized you thought about me at all.”
I scoffed, “Of course I think about you. I think about all of you very often.”
This seemed to throw him for a loop. It was weird to speak so openly about my feelings. We had always gone about life with coldness. Being sharp and intense was the only way to survive out there. If anyone saw you as weak or vulnerable then you were finished. That was why Yoongi usually acted as a middle man. He was the hardest, coldest, most impenetrable wall there ever was. Just looking into his eyes you could see that. Shivering, I recalled the time he killed a man with a set of chopsticks while we were in Korea. 
“We think about you, too,” Hoseok said, sounding far away.
Turning into the diner’s parking lot, I turned off the engine and got out. Hoseok followed closely behind me and I asked him if he wanted anything.
“I hear the steak and eggs are nice,” He commented, eyes downcasted.
“Is Taehyung keeping tabs on me?” I sneered, anxiety turning into anger.
Taehyung was the tech guy when he wasn’t stealing jewels. He was also a royal pain in the ass who never knew when to cool it. He had been the most upset when he heard that I was leaving the crew and I would not put it past him. Taehyung was just that kind of guy. The gesture was kind, I was certain of that, and came from a place of love. Still, I had asked to be left alone. It seemed like no one really accepted that.
“I tried to stop it but it’s impossible to keep track of everything he does,” Hoseok admitted. “After a while we just accepted the fact that he wouldn’t give it up. He is trying to check in less and less, though. He’s just worried someone will come around and we won’t know about it.”
“And that’s how you knew where I worked?”
Holding the door open, Hoseok thanked me before going inside. Doris smiled at me when I walked inside. She was an elderly woman who liked to help me with my Sudoku puzzles on Sunday mornings. Eyeing Hoseok curiously, I waved at her before finding an open booth. I normally sat at the bar but I did not want prying eyes. Doris would not go away if we sat there and Hoseok was obviously wanting privacy.
“Hey sugar,” Dixie, a waitress from Alabama, greeted us.
She put down two menus and asked us what we wanted to drink. Hoseok ordered a coffee while I got a glass of chocolate milk. The man looked me up and down, amusement coloring every one of his features. I waved him off and looked at the menu. If he ordered steak and eggs I would order something else. Hoseok was a big fan of sharing food even if we both had our own portions.
Hoseok, like many of the guys from the crew, was South Korean. He was born in Gwangju, a city in the southern part of the country, and moved to the US with his friend Namjoon during university. Namjoon went on to become a campaign manager in New York City while Hoseok became an associate of the Gambino family after killing a few guys. Over time the two went their separate ways, but Hoseok always spoke fondly of him. Last he heard, Namjoon had moved to Seoul and was working at the Blue House.
“You all figured out what you want?” Dixie asked, reappearing with our drinks.
Hoseok ordered the steak and eggs while I got their “Rising Roadhouse'' meal. It came with waffles and I knew that would make Hoseok happy. When we were alone again, Hoseok sighed.
“It’s Jimin,” He said.
Bracing myself, I leaned in closer so we could speak quietly. The diner was almost empty at this time of night and I was nervous. This was shit no one needed to hear about. Hoseok got closer to me.
“What’s going on?” I demanded, whispering harshly.
“He’s gotten into some shit with Winter Hill again. Yoongi bailed him out but things are going to shit. They want us to get some things for them to make up for it. We weren’t sure where to go, and Georgie was very specific.”
I breathed through my nose. Jimin was my closest friend during my time with the crew. We thought the most alike, worked the best, and trusted one another. However, we were also hot heads. I had worked on myself tremendously over the years, but Jimin had the worst kind of anger. Talking out the mouth. And to talk to somebody in Winter Hill the way I assumed he had? Jimin was asking to lose a finger. That’s if he hadn’t already. Looking at Hoseok, he seemed to know what question I had on my mind.
“Yoongi made him cut the first joint off. I told him to write an apology letter in blood. I also sent the boss the piece in a medicine jar. Just to be sure.”
Grimacing, I rubbed my forehead. I had almost forgotten the way they do things in the mafia. The letter in blood, however, seemed more of a New York thing. I’d have to get clarification on that later. Leaning back in my chair, I shook my head.
“Unbelievable,” I mumbled absentmindedly.
On one hand, I was very angry that either of them would humiliate Jimin like that. On the other hand, I knew that the boy had put them in a very, very fucked up spot. Either they make amends and punish him or they lose the entire East Coast. If Boston doesn’t want anything to do with them, New York will become weary as well. Even if Hoseok was a Red Pull at one time, he is still an outsider. He was still just an associate. 
“What is he looking for?” I finally asked, leaning back in.
“Jewelry. Said they wanted something ‘your old girl’ would like. Said you’d know what to do.”
I smirked. Georgie Boy had always been impressed with my taste. Still, I was not sure about getting involved with all of this. In order to do so would mean helping them stake out a place and I was not going there. I had made my peace. Still, I could not help the part of me that felt excited. I squashed it like a bug.
“I’m not helping you with anything,” I said.
“I’m not asking you to,” He replied. “Just tell us if you’ve seen anything noteworthy lately.”
Dixie came back with our food and I used it as a distraction. I needed time to think. Hoseok and I ate off of one another and I continued to sit and ponder over the new things I had seen at the museum in town. I had gone many times, I had always tried to desensitize myself to the feeling I got when I walked in, but each time I looked around. I knew where every single camera was, I knew how to get into the back, and I was familiar enough with the security system to work around it. Every detail of a heist had already formed in my head that I refused to act on. Just as I knew every museum all the way up to Orange County. There were quite a few jewelers that had caught my eye as well. Still, I knew my answer after a few minutes of silence.
“His daughter’s birthday is soon, isn’t it?” I clarified, making sure my memory serves me well.
“In a few weeks,” Hoseok nodded.
“There’s a pair of earrings at Beverly Hills Jewelers,” I started. “They’re 2 carat, T.W, diamonds. They’re heart shaped. Halo. They’re beautiful.”
“Price?”
“I believe $15,000. They have some nice tennis chains as well that could match.”
He hummed, “I don’t know if it’ll be enough.”
I nodded, “I’ll include a personalized letter as well as a ring from my own collection if that helps.”
Hoseok smiled brightly at me. I knew that had pleased him. Georgie Boy would also be happy. His little girl gets some nice gifts and he gets to wave his dick around like the narcissist is is. In my head, I was already trying to remember the layout of the store. I had only gone inside twice when I took a trip to Beverly Hills. I was having a rough day and I wanted to get back in my element for a while. Scoping out places was always a relaxing thing for me to do. I ended up buying a necklace while I was there so they wouldn’t become suspicious of me. Still, I would have to see it again and show the guys what I was talking about so they could do the hit. That place was heavily secured.
“Thanks, Y/N,” Hoseok said, pushing the last piece of steak closer to me.
Grinning at him I replied, “It was an emergency.”
And then I popped the steak in my mouth and savored the taste. Just for now I would have a little bit of chaos. It would just be Hoseok and I, so that made the guilt lessen. At least this wasn’t something I would have to actually perform. Still, I thought to myself, I was incredibly bored without the little bit of chaos I had before.
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Present
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Laughing, I cut another piece of brown hair off. Jules stared at me, her hands covering her mouth, while she shook. She was a regular now, always got the same treatment, but when she called about her appointment last week she asked for a bob. Well, giving it to her, it was difficult to imagine just how upset she would become.
Her mother had recently been diagnosed with cancer and she wanted to show her that she was standing with her. The chemo had made chunks fall out and her mother decided to buzz her head. I had been the person to do that and give her a pamphlet of local stores she could go to and buy nice wigs. Jules, however, had called me late and said she wanted to donate her own hair for her mom. Tony had recently registered the salon with Locks of Love and trained us all in it. Sasha had been the most excited about the prospect. His mother had died from cancer when he was in highschool. 
Jules’s hair was thick, dark brown, and wavy. Everything about it was perfect and she was a dream to work with. She always took things in stride and tipped well. Today, I was worried if she would ever come back. 
Her hair was long enough that we could keep it at her shoulders. She had always kept it past her butt, just barely grazing her upper thighs, and took pride in it. I was still planning to give her plenty of highlights and a blowout- on the house. I had nothing but love for the girl and I knew how difficult this would be for her. Glancing at Tiesha, she smiled.
“Girl, what are you crying for?” She joked, parting another section of her client’s hair.
I recognized her but was not sure of her name. She always came in for installations or silk presses. Tiesha was always happy to see her, at the very least, so I knew she was a nice enough person. 
“I don’t know,” Jules whined back, sniffling and rubbing her reddening eyes.
“Now, you are too damn pretty to be looking like that,” She replied, braiding back another section. “Make an appointment with momma and I’ll hook you up.”
I scoffed, “I can do extensions, too.”
“Oh, I know. But you’re most definitely a colorist. Julie, baby, Ty will take good care of you, okay?”
“Your mom will be very happy,” Sasha chimed in, his Russian accent thick. 
Jules nodded, “Yeah, she will.”
I smiled to myself. That was the best motivator to get through this. I kept as much length as I could and I was still going to try to make her feel pretty with the new style. She had said her friends were excited but her boyfriend was conflicted. He loved her hair. That made me frown. Who the fuck says that to their girlfriend? Especially one who’s doing it for their sick mother.
“I’ve never gone this short before,” Jules said, her composure coming back. “It’s scary.”
“Don’t worry,” Sasha soothed, cleaning up from his last client. “You’ve got the best in the house. Y/N’ll take care of you.”
I winked at the boy. Sasha had grown on me considerably since he was first hired. I had not gone to Tony about his skipping after all, instead I cornered him at work and told him if he ever ditched me again I would get him fired. We were rocky after that but I knew his respect for me had gone up. A friendship blossomed when he confessed he was clueless about doing color. Sasha was an amazing stylist and his precion was otherworldly, but Destiny was right to never give him color clients. I spent a few nights helping him practice on some mannequin heads and he followed me around like a puppy. He had even agreed to clean up alone for two nights while I was in Beverly Hills helping Hoseok scope out the place. We were thick as thieves after that.
“I know that,” Jules cracked a smile. “She always takes care of me.”
“I’m flattered,” I finally said. “Don’t worry, I’ve got plans for you.”
Her smile grew. Jules had been very excited about free coloring. I had told her I was giving myself free reign, and I wondered if she thought I was going to go manic pixie on her. Hopefully some lowlights and babylights would suffice. We had never gone darker before and I thought it would suit the new cut well. 
Cutting in her layers, I was happy with how it looked. Her hair framed her face nicely and she would still have enough length to play around with it if she wanted. Jules was a fan of those half-up, half-down looks. Using my comb, I ran through her hair and cut. So far, she had not looked back at the mirror. She seemed nervous too. 
“Do you want me to cut your bangs blunt or keep them split?” I asked.
Jules perked up, “Oh! I was actually thinking about trying a new bang style.”
I nodded, “Do you have a picture?”
She opened her gallery and pulled it up. I smiled to myself. Jameela Jamil really did pull off the schoolgirl bangs. 
“So in between?” I walked around so she was facing me. 
“Do you think it’ll look nice?” She asked, chewing her bottom lip.
I studied her face for a moment. 
“You’ll look great, but it might take some time to get used to. They’re a bit more maintenance than blunt or curtain.”
She smiled, “I figured that.”
Working quietly, I began to trim her bangs into the correct shape. They will look their best after I finish styling the rest of her hair. Jules loved it when I straightened her hair after our visits. She never had the patience for it at home and it made her feel special when she got it done here. I would have to let her know that her bangs will look pretty if she curled the longer side pieces to blend them in with her natural waves. With the cutting done, it was time to start the lowlights.
“When is your next appointment?” I asked Sasha.
He was sitting in his chair and texting someone on his phone. He glanced at me before getting back to his screen.
“About twenty minutes. He’s new.”
“Oh, a man?” Tiesha dramatically emphasized the man part. It was not often that men booked with us. Sasha had gone to barber school and did amazing work, but for some reason the idea of going to a salon bothered most men. “He from out of town?”
“I think so,” The Russian nodded. “He definitely sounded foreign. I couldn’t tell where from. Maybe Asia?”
I froze for a moment. I took a breath. There was absolutely no way that any of them would do that. Then I thought of Taehyung. Absolutely not, I scolded myself. That boy feared me more than anybody else. I would ring him by his neck and then let Yoongi know about it. Besides, I said emergencies only. They would have scheduled with me if they were trying to talk. Walking back to my chair, I placed the dye and bleach down on the metal tray next to me. Opening one of the drawers at my desk, I grabbed some latex gloves and foil.
Getting started was simple. Getting the brown, I began painting sections of her hair and foiling them. The foil was not really necessary, but I always got nervous that the parts I did not want colored would get touched. Lowlights were more sparsely added, and unlike highlights, never layers. Making my way around her head, I was excited to see if she would like it. I only went a shade darker than her natural color, so the color contrast was not extremely stark. The highlights were the most important part of the look.
Foiling the last piece of hair, I took the bowl to the sink near the back as well as the brush I was using. Tossing them in and removing my gloves, I heard the bell chime and Sasha’s customer service voice begin. No one could beat Tiesha’s, that woman had client relationships like no one I had ever met. They adored her.
“Come sit and we can get started,” Sasha seemed more excited than usual.
I guessed the guy wanted something a bit different from his normal caseload.
“Alright,” I sighed, clapping my hands. “Let's get this bleach started.”
Walking back into the main room, I paid no mind to the customer sitting in Sasha’s chair. Jules was FaceTiming with someone and I grinned when I recognized her mom’s voice. She seemed very cheery today.
“Oh, I love that length on you,” Martha gushed, her accent only picking up on certain words.
“Gracias, mami,” Jules beamed. “Do you think Carlos will like it?”
Martha waved her hands around animatedly when she talked. I had learned that from the many times she came to the salon with Jules. Now, she was shaking them violently.
“Who cares?”
I laughed and got to work on her highlights. 
“I said the same thing,” I chimed.
The three of us talked as I worked. Martha always enjoyed asking me about the craziest customer of the week, and I usually indulge her. This week it had been a very convoluted, pastel rainbow color job. She wanted the top half white and the bottom portion colored. She booked out my entire day, gave me hell about every insignificant detail, and then left a $2 tip. Sasha got to hear me rant and rave about it when we were cleaning that night.
“She’s never allowed in my chair again,” I finished, setting a timer for everything. 
The lowlights had been sitting for twenty minutes while the babylights would need about 15 in order to develop the way I want them to. Thinking, I was certain the lowlights would be fine going two minutes over the usual time. They would be hardly noticeable regardless. 
“You’ve had worse,” Sasha pointed out.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “But those women tip well. I don’t care how rude you are- money is money. That chick is a pain in the ass without the benefits.”
“She has nothing on Kimberly,” Tiesha joked. 
I groaned, “God, don’t even put that name into the universe. She’s due back soon.”
Sasha laughed. “She does pay very well. Don’t blame you.”
“Who’s Kimberly?” Jules asked.
I gave Tiesha a look before answering her.
“She’s a regular. Tony was her go-to guy, but he’s only in twice a week and it doesn’t line up with her schedule. He sent her over to me. Let’s just say she takes picky to a new level.”
Jules snickered, “What does she like to get?”
“Usually a platinum blonde, layered cut. On paper it’s not the most difficult thing in the world, but she makes it much more complicated than it needs to be.”
“Complicated?” Tiesha exclaimed. “That woman is super rude, always late, and acts like she knows everything. I’d tell that bitch to kick rocks.”
Her client laughed out loud.
“That might be true,” I reasoned, checking the foils. “But, she always tips well and shouts me out on her socials. So, can I really complain? Besides, I’m used to her.”
Checking the foils again, I was happy with the color they were and decided to take the foils off early. Stopping my timer, I asked Jules to walk over to the rinsing station. I was happy this was my last client. Sweeping up the hair, I left it in the dustpan until I was ready to begin the tedious task of preparing it for donation. Putting on a new pair of gloves, I willed this day to be over already.
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I knew something was off when a new motorcycle was parked out front. Briefly checking the plates, I was even more weary when they were from Jersey. I knew far too many people in that corner of the US. Still, I told myself that it could be anybody. Perhaps one of my new neighbors was from Hobokan. That was highly unlikely, though. Eyeing the red leather jacket hanging from one of the handles, I only knew one person who owned something like that. I guess I will be seeing Jimin tonight. The thought bothered me far more than I thought it would.
Taking my time going up the stairs, I considered calling Hoseok and demanding to know why Park was sniffing around my apartment. I knew I should have moved out, should have tried something new, but the thought of leaving the only home I ever knew bothered me. Using the time climbing to my advantage, I slowly steeled myself. Jimin could smell weakness from a mile away. He was also one person who could convince me to do bad things.
The excitement that ran through me at the idea sickened me.
Starting at the 4 on the door, I braced myself. When I walked into that hallway all traces of the new me had to disappear. There can be no laughter, no crying, and no open hostility. I would have to be a blank slate. With one small breath, I pulled the door and went into the hall.
There wasn’t a body in sight, but I knew better than to go off of that. Jimin could get into my apartment with relative ease. No one would notice either. Everyone else that lived was too busy making ends meet to pay attention to the stranger sneaking into my house.
Taking my keys out of my purse, I unlocked the door and walked inside. I could smell him. It was, however, not Jimin. Jimin only wore Orange Blossom by Jo Malone. Whoever this was smelled like baby powder and flowers. My guard completely up now, I continued further into the studio and kicked the door closed behind me. Whoever it was, I knew had been standing behind the door. The smell was not as potent as it had been before. 
Going into the kitchen, I shrugged my coat off before throwing it behind me. I heard it hit something and it was a blur after that. I quickly snatched a kitchen knife from the drying rack and threw myself to the ground. The man grabbed my hands. Kicking his inner thigh, I rolled from underneath him and shot up. He threw his arms up.
“Stop!”
Ignoring him, I threw the knife. The man reacted quickly, catching the blade in between his hands before throwing it down on the floor. While he was distracted, I slid on the floor and grabbed the pistol from under my bed. Pointing it at the man, he rolled his eyes dramatically.
“What are you going to do? Shoot me?”
Without saying anything, I aimed for his left shoulder and fired. The silencer muzzled the shot, though the pop was still nasty. It worked better with a pillow added to the equation. I doubted any of my neighbors would notice the sound, however. The man shouted, stumbled back, and leaned against the fridge.
“You shot me,” He exclaimed, shocked.
“Who the fuck are you?” I barked, aimed for his other shoulder.
“You wait to ask me after you-”
I shot again. He gritted his teeth and sank to the floor. The wounds were leaking blood but I tried to not let it bother me. This guy broke into my house. This time, I aimed for his right knee.
“Who are you?” I asked again.
“Jungkook,” The man, Jungkook, answered. “I’m with The Saints.”
Lowering the barrel of the gun, I stared at him for a second. He was with my crew? Since when? 
“Who sent you?” I asked, aiming at his chest now.
If he was going to get found out, he might be more inclined to lunge before I could call anyone.
“Yoongi.”
Slowly, I reached into my back pocket and got my phone. I was relieved the screen hadn’t cracked during the outfall. Slowly, keeping my eyes on Jungkook, I started typing in the number I knew by heart. If he was lucky, Yoongi would pick up. If not, then we weren’t moving until someone did. After the second ring, a rough voice greeted me.
“August.”
Training my gun on his head, I spoke.
“There’s someone claiming they know you in my apartment.”
After a few seconds, Yoongi’s voice was hard when he replied.
“Who is it?”
“Says his name is Jungkook,” I replied evenly.
I was fully prepared to pull the trigger. Jungkook stared the barrel down without fear. I only hoped he would go down quickly and quietly. 
Yoongi sighed harshly, “Fucking Jimin.”
Gripping the handle tightly, I placed my finger on the trigger. I only needed the okay now.
“He’s fine,” Yoongi was annoyed. “I sent Jimin but I guess he got the kid to go instead.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, I put the gun down. Jungkook visibly relaxed then and moaned in pain. Raising a hand, he cradled his left shoulder and hissed in pain. 
“Fucked him up,” I admitted. “He was in my apartment when I got home.”
Yoongi hummed, “Take care of him. He’ll let you know what’s going on. We have a problem.”
He hung up before I could respond.
I hated when he did that. I had no idea who Jungkook was, or what he was here to tell me, but we were on the same team. And I just shot him. Twice. Putting the gun back in its original spot, I reached a little further behind it and retrieved my first aid kit. Jungkook sagged in relief. 
“Sorry,” I apologized, helping him take his shirt off. “Didn’t realize you were with us.”
Jungkook hissed when I applied alcohol to the wounds. It would take me a while to get his patched up, but I was capable of doing it. Years of friendship with The Saints would do that to you. Looking at Jungkook, I was taken aback by how attractive he was.
All of the Saints were good looking, but this guy had an aura about him. His hair was wild, pitch black, and down to his shoulders. His skin was gently tanned with small moles dotted sporadically across his body. What caught my attention the most was the shiny, silver lip ring he donned. That was an oddity in our world.
“My fault, shouldn’t have broken in without a warning,” He replied.
“I saw the bike outside and thought you were Jimin.”
He hummed then winced. I knew those bullets did not feel nice. Taking my time and trying to be gentle, I used a pair of tweezers to get them out. Jungkook bit his lip so hard he drew blood. 
“Yeah,” He breathed out. “Let me borrow it for the ride.”
“Park,” We both knew what I meant by that.
For the next hour we sat in silence. He let me work and I listened to every sharp intake of breath, groan, and moan. I felt guilty about everything, but I also had a certain level of apathy. The guy was nobody to me. Not really. Same crew doesn’t mean we’re friends. Still, if they sent him here then that meant they trusted him enough to come. That told me a lot about him.
After I placed gauze over the stitches, Jungkook finally spoke again.
“Jin hyung said you were harmless,” He chuckled. “I’ll let him know he’s wrong.”
Ignoring his comment, I went to find him something to wear. I doubted he would be able to fit any of my things. He was huge, a tall man with big arms, but I could make something work. Grabbing a loose fitting dress, I threw it to him.
“I don’t have anything for a man, so that will have to do.”
He nodded and put the dress on without complaint.
“I’ll pick up something for you later,” I continued. “Did you come alone?”
Jungkook shook his head, “Hyung’s around. He was going to come but an old friend called so he sent me.”
“Kai?” I wondered, already knowing the answer. 
Jimin and Kai were good friends. They had known one another since they were kids and got involved in crime together. I’d only met the guy in passing the few times he had visited Boston, but I was not very familiar with him. I knew he was a drug runner on the west coast but that was where my knowledge stopped.
“Yeah, said they had business or something.”
I hummed, “Would you like to lay down for a moment?”
Jungkook was very obviously in pain. He tried to deny it for a minute but ultimately took my offer. Going to the fridge, I pulled out a can of Ginger Ale and gave it to him. He accepted it readily.
“Sorry about the gun,” I offered, sitting on the floor. “Jin’s right. I’m usually pretty harmless. I didn’t even own a gun until I left The Saints.”
Jungkook shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. You weren’t expecting company.”
Opening my own drink, I eyed him. He was far too calm. My guess was this was not his first time being shot. Trying to find other wounds was pointless, however, he was too clothed. I hadn’t even thought to check when I was helping him earlier.
“Why’d you come inside anyway?” I asked.
Jungkook grinned ruefully.
“Hyung said he’d call you.”
That pulled a laugh out of me. Park probably forgot about it. For someone as dangerous as he was, he could be irresponsible. I remember when we were scoping a jewelry store together a few years back, Jimin had completely forgotten where the cameras were by the time we left. I had to go back myself a few days later to make sure his guesses were right. We had never let him live it down. Yoongi did not think it was very funny.
“Typical,” I said.
“Yeah.”
Jungkook’s eyes slipped closed. He was so completely at ease in my presence it was unnerving. Taking a sip of my drink, I looked at him in bewilderment. He was so much like Taehyung, trusting and easy going. It was difficult to imagine what role he played in the crew. He could have taken my place but I doubted he was as good. He had come here, hid behind my door, and then ambushed me. Then he was surprised when I acted like he was an enemy. Chuckling, I put my drink down. Yeah, just like Taehyung.
“What’s funny?” He asked, eyes still closed.
Wiping the smile off my face, I replied. “Just thinking.”
We did not talk again. I was sure Jungkook had dozed off, but he kept waking back up again. Getting up, I began looking for some pain medicine to no avail. I had not needed to put myself to sleep in a long time. Grabbing my keys from the floor, I told Jungkook I was heading out for a bit. I got no response. Patting myself down, I knew I did not have my phone and picked it up from beside the bed. Jungkook was lightly snoring.
Slipping from the room, I locked up and went downstairs. Typing in the last number I had for Jimin, I was not surprised that it was no longer in service. He changed phones like you change clothes. Deciding to call Taehyung, I went to my contacts to find him. He was the only person I saved.
“Hello?” His voice was deep and hoarse. 
Glancing at the time, I realized it was much later than I thought. 
“Sorry about the time,” I replied. “It’s Mouse.”
I heard shuffling on the other side. Taehyung had gotten himself a girlfriend, Jennie, and I was almost positive she was relatively clueless about his life. The last time I talked to Hoseok, he had said she thought he was a tech guy who was helping a start up. He must have been with her now if his silence was anything to go by.
“Sorry,” He said, voice low. “I’m not alone.”
“I just need Park’s number and you can get back to bed.”
Saying the numbers slowly, I typed them into my keypad as I made my way through the dark streets. 
“Thanks,” I stopped walking once I got to the gas station around the corner. “Get some sleep.”
“It was good to hear your voice,” He replied, more awake than he had been. “I’ll be seeing you.”
“Night, V.”
“Night, Mouse.”
Hanging up, I stuffed my phone into my back pocket and walked into the store. It was deserted except for the cashier. Giving me a stiff nod, I ignored the man before going to the back of the store and getting some bottled water. I never trusted the tap in the building. Afterwards, I got a bottle of Nyquil and Advil before going to the register.
“Let me get a pack of Marlboro Black Menthols,” I told the cashier.
Taking out my phone, I took my ID from the attached wallet as well as my debit card. The man held the pack of cigarettes and took my ID. Briefly looking it over, he scanned the barcode before scanning the cigarettes. Handing the ID back to me, he began scanning my other items before bagging them.
“Your total is $26.87.”
Nodding, I inserted my card and typed my pin. Putting my card back into the small wallet, I put my phone into my pocket and took the bag.
“Have a good night,” I said.
“You too,” He replied.
Leaving the store, I opened up my keypad and pressed the call button. Jimin picked up after four rings.
“Hello?” He answered, voice brightly and bubbly.
He always answered unknown numbers like that just in case. Jimin always prioritized having the upper hand over anything else. Anyone looking for Park would never connect him to the voice on the other side. I, however, was familiar enough with him to see through the facade.
“You got your boy hit,” I said, cutting right to the chase. “I had to give him a dress and Nyquil after popping two in him.”
Jimin laughed loudly, his fake voice gone. This was why we were friends. Our senses of humor were far too warped due to our upbringings. In another world we would have been enemies belonging to different clans, but I liked this timeline far more. Park was a great guy when you looked past the insecurities, anger issues, and tendency to seek violence.
“Jungkook’s wearing a dress?” He exclaimed, still laughing. “God, you have to take a picture for me.”
I rolled my eyes, “Explain why he’s here. I would ask him but I stepped out to get some medicine for him.”
Jimin’s laughter abruptly cut off. That feeling of dread returned. If Park was getting serious then that meant whatever the situation was must be more than I thought it would be. I was expecting them to need me to help them with a heist, but I was getting the feeling it might be more than that. Jimin sighed.
“I can’t get into specifics right now, but you need to get the fuck out of California.”
Going up the stairs of my complex, I paused. 
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re not safe here anymore.”
Growing angry, I shouted. “Enough with the cryptic messages, Park!”
Continuing to go up, I kept looking around every corner I went to. This was the worst fucking timing I could have had. Things were finally going well for me, I had friends and a job that I actually liked, and I had to give it all up again. Tears filling my eyes, I shoved open my door and slammed it behind me.
“I told you I can’t get into specifics, but there’s a reason I’m with Kai right now. You and Jungkook need to get out of that apartment as soon as possible. I don’t care where you go but you need to leave.”
Jungkook sprung up when I kicked the edge of my bed. Pointing to my phone, I mouth ‘Jimin.’ Getting on my knees, I pulled out my duffle bag from underneath the bed and threw it at the other man. He looked at me when he stood up. I noticed the way he winced and held up the bag in my hand.
“Copy,” Was all I replied.
“Get to Boston. Don’t take the truck.”
“Give me something to work with,” I demanded, taking the Advil out of the bag and tossing it to Jungkook. “I can’t be blind.”
“Cмерть не за горами.”
My entire world stopped spinning. I could hear my heart beating, feel my lungs pushing the air out of my body, while my eyes were frozen. Every single inch of my skin shivered, goosebumps springing up, and I broke out into a cold sweat. This was no heist. 
Hanging up on Jimin, I went to the window above my bed and opened it. Throwing the phone as far as I could, I turned to find Jungkook waiting for instructions. Staring at him, I decided to take a leap of faith.
“Ты один из нас?” I asked.
Jungkook raised an eyebrow at me. “What?”
Gritting my teeth, I snatched the duffle from him. Jungkook continued waiting for me to tell him what to do. I pointed to my bathroom.
“Take everything from the mirror cabinet and put it in the bag. After that, grab what you can from the wardrobe and stuff it. Only take one pair of shoes and a pair of heels. That’s all I’ll need.”
He got to work quickly. Going back to the bed, I took out my gun and the spare ammo I kept locked up at the very back corner. Placing the ammo in the duffle, I took my first aid kit from the kitchen floor and tossed it in as well. 
“Do you have a gun?” I asked Jungkook.
“Yeah,” He replied. “It’s in the jacket downstairs. I thought you would feel more comfortable if I wasn’t armed.”
Packing my small makeup collection, I felt myself shutting down. Bad girls don’t have feelings, and I was fucking heartless. Yes, I told myself, heartless. It was harder to pretend now than it had been, I was rusty and in desperate need of a distraction. The thought of finding my old family in the shadows was always frightening, but the thought of them looking for me was far more unsettling.
“Done,” Jungkook announced.
Realizing I had zoned out, I quickly put my makeup in the duffle bag and closed it. I had no time to dwell or be afraid. Heartless, Mouse, Heartless. I hated that name. Shaking my head, I pulled myself together enough to sling the duffle over my shoulder. Jungkook went to take it but I held my hand up.
“You’re not carrying this with your injuries. Just take that bag and this-” I handed him my gun. “I don’t know how quick you are but it’s probably better than me. I’m rusty.”
He nodded and we made our way down the stairs. Thinking, I began to categorize the cars that were in the parking lot and on the street. My truck was near the front but the streets were shrouded in light at this time. Jungkook’s bike was also out front. The back had security cameras but was pitch black at this time. I decided the front was the risk I was more willing to take and went through the hallway door on the first floor. Passing the doors, I paid no mind to Jungkook. He was capable and stayed in step with me effortlessly. 
We would drive for a few hours, probably stopping at a diner so I could get another car, and keep going until we hit Arizona or New Mexico. I had not decided yet. Going out the front doors, I waved Jungkook away while I walked down the street. He went to get his jacket but left the bike behind. He was back beside me in a few seconds. 
Crossing the street, I had my eyes on a Honda Accord parked on the curb. It was definitely a ‘97 model. I could start her up in a heartbeat. Unzipping one of the side pockets of my bag, I pulled out a switchblade and zipped it back up. Going to the driver’s side, Jungkook stayed at my back while I tried the handle. To my surprise, it opened. Stepping to the side, I gently tapped Jungkook’s back. Turning, he quickly shoved the gun into the backseat as I opened the door. After seeing that the coast was clear, I motioned for him to go around the car while I popped the truck. He said it was fine.
Nodding at him, I got into the car. Kicking the steering wheel, I heard the column lock break before swapping the ECUs. Taking my knife, I ripped off the lower center cover. Getting back out of the car, I opened the backseat and threw my duffle inside. Putting my knife back in its pocket, I opened the long side pocket along the front and pulled out my old screwdriver. This was far from the first jacking I had done.
Getting back into the car, I began to pry the steel cover away. Asking Jungkook for a light, I waited while he pulled out his phone from the pocket of the red jacket. He was lucky no one had taken it. With the flashlight on, I turned the switch from off, past run, to start. The car came to life instantaneously. Waving the light away, I threw the screwdriver into the center console and placed the car in drive. Finally closing the driver’s side door, I peeled off into the night.
The radio came to life and Amy Winehouse sang loudly as I got onto the I-5.
“Til’ the chips were down
Know you were a gambling man.
Love is a losing hand.”
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Jungkook was very quiet. I had just followed exit sounds and continued to drive toward Arizona. It was the least exciting state, and the people who lived there were far too judgemental outside of Phoenix, but it was the best way to get to the airport. That airport was far too big and strangely laid out that I knew we would be difficult to pick out in a crowd. Glazing over at Jungkook, he was holding the pack of cigarettes I had bought earlier.
“They’re for Jimin,” I suddenly said, switching lanes. “They were his favorite last time I saw him.”
“I think he’s smoking Camels now,” Jungkook replied.
“Can’t win them all.”
Sighing, I relaxed a bit more in my seat. So far, we have not been followed. Then again, I could be missing something. Tracking was not a strong suit of mine, and in my experience, the Russians were very, very evasive when they wanted to be. Still, I allowed myself a moment to breathe. 
“How do you know the boys in Brighton?” Jungkook asked, voice quiet and soft.
I thought about it for a moment. It was a rather long story, but knowing that we were familiar with the same people made it feel easier. Deciding to probe him for information first, I formed a plan in my head on how to go about this conversation.
“Have you ever heard of the person called Pыбка?” I asked, my American accent showing through. It had been a very, very long time since I had spoken Russian, and even then it had always been a second language that I learned from my time with the Shulaya.
“Ivan’s girl, right? The one who was murdered a few years back? What about her?”
Sparing him a quick glance, I spoke.
“Do I look dead to you?”
Jimin and I had known one another longer than anyone else in The Saints. He had been the last person to join the crew, and was deep within the Shulaya before he went to Jersey to join Hoseok’s team. I would never forget the look on his face the first time he saw me, or the fact that it took him all of ten minutes to get fully committed to keeping me safe. Everyone called me Mouse. Jin had come up with it after joking about me being able to live in someone’s attic and they would never know. It caught on and it was the only name anyone on the streets knew about. The ‘Little Fish’ of Shulaya long forgotten after the first two years of hiding. However, it seemed like my face had been seen by somebody and Ivan was not happy about my disappearing act. 
“Holy shit,” Jungkook said in awe. “We’re so fucked.”
I laughed, “Have some faith. Ivan is scary, but he’s also impulsive. I know him better than most and trust me- he doesn’t know how to keep his cool. Between Boston and NYC, I doubt he’ll get very far into their territory without raising hell.”
Jungkook made a strange noise.
“I’d be far more afraid of Yoongi than any of those Wiseguys.”
Scoffing, I saw the exit I needed to take in order to pull up at the last Holiday Inn before the long stretch of nothing at all. Jungkook seemed to see where my mind was going and began to look out of the window. After briefly going over what food options we had, we landed on Taco Bell. 
Ordering our food was simple enough. Jungkook was a huge tomato hater and was very upset to find that his Crunch Wrap had been ‘ruined.’ The motel seemed to have a few quests and I hoped we could get a room. Jungkook offered to pay. The frontdesk lady was kind and found us a room within 5 minutes. 
Using the elevator, I asked Jungkook if he still had the ‘thing’ with him. He nodded but said no more. It was probably better that way. Throwing my duffle bag onto my bed, I realized that Jungkook was still wearing a dress with the pants he had come inside in. 
Digging through my bag, I found a pair of sweatpants that would fit him well enough as well as an oversized nightshirt I rarely ever wore. I usually slept naked. Tonight, I will try to make my partner feel comfortable.
Throwing the clothes on his bed, Jungkook perked up a bit and seemed to be fine with their sizes. I wondered if he had been wearing more uncomfortable clothes at one time and shook my head. He had walked into this motel wearing that. Yes, Y/N, he has definitely been far more uncomfortable than tightly sweats. 
“You can take the bathroom first,” I pointed to the door. “You need it more than I do.”
Jungkook nodded, “Would you mind helping me get out of this thing? It still hurts to move my arms around too much.
Looking at him, I pinned him with an unimpressed look. We were not having one of those moments. Still looking at Jungkook, I unzipped the pouching with my switchblade in it and pulled the knife out. Walking to Jungkook, I quickly worked on the right side of the fabric. The left side was even quicker. Gently lifting his arm just enough to see his armpit, I cut the short sleeve from the bottom, following up with the top, and up the high neckline. Repeating it on the other side, the blood-soaked garment pooling to the floor. 
Jungkook seemed frozen. Looking at his face, his eyes were wide and staring at the blade in my hand. Thinking he might be uncomfortable with me standing so close to him with a weapon, I walked back to my bed.
“If you need help getting the shirt on, just let me know.”
“Thanks,” Jungkook replied.
Picking up the spare clothes, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. The water was on a few seconds later. Fully alone in the room, I looked around and decided to throw out the dress. With the torn up dress safely put away in my duffle, I tried to figure out what to do while I waited. 
Taking Jungkook’s phone off of his bed (he used a flip phone just like Yoongi did on the job), I quickly found my way to the contacts. Hovering over Jimin’s number, I paused. Not thinking about it for too long, I pressed it and placed my phone to my ear. He answered quickly.
“Where are you?” Jimin asked, voice very low.
“Are you safe to talk?” I replied, voice just as low.
I could hear the way Jimin rolled his eyes, a small groan leaving his lips.
“I’m fine,” His voice was still soft. “I’m at a casino right now. Did you steal his phone?”
My blood ran cold. Most of our guys loved gambling, but Jimin had always thought it was a dumb pastime. I knew Ivan had been trying to expand the Russian influence in Los Angeles, and I hoped that he knew what he was doing. Jimin tended to run into situations without contemplating everything. Instead of grilling him, I decided to ease his worries.
“We’re safe. Heading east.” I looked around the room distractedly. “And no. I’m using it while he’s taking a shower.”
Jimin sighed in relief, “Kook is a good guy. He’ll keep you safe long enough to make it back to Boston. I’ll be on my way back in a few hours.”
It was better to keep things vague. Just like I had not said where we were headed, Jimin’s answer could mean anything. I heard Jungkook cry out but he was quiet soon after. I hoped the work I had done was keeping. I had told him to keep the stitches covered.
“See you soon,” I forced a smile on my face. “I got you a pack of cigarettes.”
Jimin laughed, though it sounded more forced than normal.
“Stay safe. I have to go.”
I hung up without another word. If he had to go then he had to go. The shower was still running and I was bored again. Looking at the door, I was tempted to walk around for a while. I had a feeling I would get myself into trouble if I did, but I was curious to see if I could get some extra clothes for Jungkook. Possibly a set of car keys, too. Looking at the bathroom door, I figured he was going to be there for a while.
“Fuck it,” I said under my breath.
Getting my room key, I slipped out of the room quietly. 
The hallway was deserted, not a body in sight, but I had a feeling I could get something if I looked hard enough. Going to the elevator, I spotted a young couple laughing. Slowing my walk, I was happy to see that they were getting on the elevator.
Angling my body, I was practically jumping up and down when my eye caught on their room key. This would be too easy. The elevator chimed signaling someone was getting off. Quickly moving my body, I relied on their clinginess to sneak into the corridor without a problem. A group of people pooled out of the elevator and I drifted into their numbers.
The couple stood to the side and waited for us to pass. Using my foot, I tripped a young woman in front of me. She stumbled while I placed myself in a position to trip over her. The both of us dropped. The woman fell into the man. Falling, I shuffled closer to the man’s hand while the woman began apologizing profusely.
Quickly snatching the card from him, I slipped it into my pocket while I stood up. Adjusting my clothes, I quickly apologized as well. The couple waved the both of us off, seemingly unbothered, before getting on the elevator. Nodding to the woman, I turned toward the way the couple had come from. Looking at the keycard, I made my way toward the door with the number on it. I was lucky the woman and I had similar hair styles, but I was aware of Holiday Inn well enough to say that most of their cameras did not work.
Glancing up at the camera in the middle of the hallway, I was positive it was not working. Typically there would be a small, red dot that showed it was recording. Today, it was off. Letting myself in, I knew I had to be quick and clean.
Tonight I would only get clothes. Car keys were something I would have to snatch in the morning over breakfast. Someone would notice their keys missing in the middle of the night. Locating a large, black suitcase on the floor by the foot of the bed, I pulled it up onto the bed and unzipped it.
Carefully sifting through the clothes, I only pulled out enough for two outfits before gently placing everything back smoothly. They would probably be a bit big on Jungkook, but I doubted he would mind very much. I swore he was wearing a belt, but I had not been paying enough attention to know for sure. 
Going to the pockets of the bag, I was happy to find a container of hair pomade and hoped it might make Jungkook happy. He would be able to do his hair if he wanted. Grabbing a pack of hair bands and a pair of boxers, I was ready to leave. Going into the dresser, I pulled out the complimentary bag they gave every guest, I shoved the clothes in it before leaving the room. With the keycard in my hand, I dropped it in the spot the couple had been before making my way back to my own room.
Jungkook was sitting on his bed drying his hair when I came in. He was wearing the sweatpants and t-shirt I had given him. I was glad he was able to get it on alone, but I felt bad I had not been here to help him. Holding up the bag, I tossed it his way.
“The first robbery I’ve done in four years,” I shook my head. “You should feel special.”
Jungkook opened the bag and grinned at me. His hair went just past his shoulders when it was wet, his fluffy curls weighed down by the water. Sifting through the bag, he seemed the happiest about the hair ties. 
Getting my own clothes, I let him know I was going to take a shower. Getting under the hot water was a healing experience, and for the first time today I let a few tears slip out.
I was terrified, frustrated, but mostly- pissed.
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Twelve years ago
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Hands bound, I let my body relax. Ivan’s eyes were blazing, his anger palpable, but I refused to look away. He would never think I was weak again. Walking closer, the Russian yanked me up roughly, one of the straps of my sundress breaking.
“What the fuck did you do?” He seethed, his accent thick and almost incoherent through gritted teeth. “You always ruin everything you touch.”
Slowly, and with great care, I pooled spit into my mouth. With a quick gurgle, I spit in Ivan���s eye. My rebellion had angered just as much as it had excited Ivan. The thought made me sick to my stomach. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, his hands burning my skin. Slamming me down, Ivan roared in anger before delivering a swift kick to my stomach.
Gasping, I tried my hardest to keep the vomit down. I refused to give him the satisfaction. I wished I was with Alexei. He would never have treated me like this. As if the thought had transferred over to the man beside me, he kicked me again.
“Alexei is dead, Лох,” He shouted. “You’re mine now.”
With another swift kick, I cried out. Then, without warning my stomach twisted. Another kick. Finally, I threw up all over the concrete floor beneath me. 
For now. I was yours for now.
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Present
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With a new set of car keys in my hand, I walked into the parking lot. Jungkook was on the phone, but quickly hung up when he saw me approaching. Raising an eyebrow at him, I waved him over and we began walking together. Clicking the unlock button, I smiled when I saw the yellow Porsche. The two of us placed our things inside without a care in the world and drove off quickly after. 
I had found the targets for today the night before while walking around the hotel late last night. It was a young woman and her mother. The two of them had been a whirlwind and gave the staff hell. Unable to sleep, my head headaches from exhaustion, and their bickering only pissed me off more. Unfortunately for them, they had made a big show of their money and decided to brag about their car.
It took a few minutes to switch out license plates and even less time to steal her car keys this morning during breakfast. They were staying for another day and had not planned on leaving the hotel at all. Jungkook laughed once we were a safe distance away.
“I’m still in shock at that woman’s entitlement,” He shook his head. “Did you see the way she flipped out when they ran out of bacon before her ‘precious angel’ could get any?”
Chuckling, I kept my attention on the road.
“Her attitude was the only reason I swiped this thing. I would never get into something so obvious.”
“It was as easy as stealing candy from a baby.”
Feeling confident from the jacking, I decided to play along.
“Do you steal from babies often?”
Jungkook giggled cutely, “I’ve cut down to twice a year.”
“Oh?”
“Halloween-” He counted with one finger, and lifted another, “-and Easter.”
“Easter?” My eyebrows pulled in as I laughed incredulously.
Jungkook grinned lazily. 
“Stockings are so last year.”
It was becoming increasingly more difficult to think of him as a member of the mafia. While my age had made others test my abilities far more often than the others I never believed anyone doubted who I was. There was a look in your eye, this coldness, that separated you from the rest. I could pick out a killer in a line up- we were one in the same. However, Jungkook was impossible to get a read on. His boyish charms and good looks were not uncommon, but the innocence in his smile and the brightness that remained in his eyes were unsettling. Everything about him was unnerving. He was disarming and that alone was frightening.
Realizing the car had become quiet, I turned the radio on. It was a habit of mine. I did not like the silence. I hated it. Some trashy pop song blasted but I did not care. Jungkook did and began to look for something he liked more.
“What do you like?” He asked, pressing the screen to change the stations.
“Pick whatever,” I replied, flipping off the guy who cut me off.
Arizona was the worst state I had ever been to. The drive was not as awful as Texas, nothing will ever beat the twelve hours of hell to still be in that damned state, but it was not much better. Outside of Phoenix the towns were not as grand. Tucson gave her a run for her money, but never came close to the busy city. Driving through the desert, I asked Jungkook to pull up the directions to the airport. I no longer knew my way.
“How did you meet the guys?” I asked, eyes on the road.
Jungkook picked a pop station and leaned back in his seat.
“Through Jimin,” He replied. “They needed help dealing with someone. I had just left New York and we ran into each other in Vegas. I liked everyone so I decided to join.”
Raising an eyebrow, I quickly turned my head so he could see my expression.
“Ivan let you leave?”
“I wasn’t a member,” Jungkook mumbled. “Just an acquaintance. I was for hire.”
That was not what I had expected. Jungkook did not seem like a killer, but I had been proven wrong many times. When I lived with my parents I had met many assassins I would have never guessed who they were just looking at them. Even talking with them it was impossible to detect. Looking at the man, I found it hard to believe that we were from the same background. While I had ran from that life, Jungkook ran toward it with open arms. In fact, he seemed to pay it little mind.
“What family are you from?” I asked. “My family was under The Table.”
Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up.
“You’re from the Underground?”
I nodded, “I never really wanted that life. I’m a much better thief anyway.”
Jungkook rubbed his bottom lip. I forced myself to focus on the road. Even if we were the only people out here, I did not want to risk anything. I had stolen the car and the plate and getting stuck out here would be hell.
“I’m with Sacarii.”
The Sacarii was the sister organization to The Table. While my family had mostly dealt with members of gangs and high profile families, members of the Sacarii were the people who went after other assassins. Stealing another look at Jungkook, I looked at the tattoos on his arm and tried to find his symbol. All of us got one, mine was a tiger on my right side, but the ink was too difficult to look at while driving.
“I have a tiger lily,” Jungkook said, noticing my assessment. “I have a few of them, actually.”
Lilies are from Japan, but I knew Jungkook was Korean. His name alone gave him away. Waving my hand, I asked him to explain when he got it.
“My family moved to Japan when I was fifteen. I had my first kill there so we decided that I would get something to represent that. The prayer hands on my back were done by the organization after the ordainment.”
Ordainments were very common. It was the process an assassin went through to become an official member of their organization. Their families were no longer defined by blood but the common experiences each one shared. The Table and the Sacarii were one big family, but oftentimes we did not get along with one another. Civil at best and competition at worst. Prayer hands with a rosary were the tattoos everyone got. It was large, covering the entire center of the back, with the family oath written above and below it. 
“I never got mine,” I admitted. “I ran off before my ceremony. That’s when I met Alexei.”
“How old were you?”
Smiling sadly, I replied. “Thirteen.”
“Oh,” He said. “I didn’t know they got people that young.”
“Well, he saw me kill someone and wanted to keep me. I doubt you knew him- he died a few years ago.”
Jungkook nodded, “Yeah. What was he like?”
Laughing, I spotted a gas station and decided to stop. We were at half a tank, but I wanted to be safe. Jungkook took out his wallet and handed me a twenty. 
“He was a better man than his brother,” I answered, taking the money. “He knew how to stay calm and respect other people. Alexei always kept good relationships with the other families. Ivan is an idiot who can’t handle criticisms of any kind.”
“He’s that awful? I mean, I only know him through brief meetings.”
“I’d rather be dead than serve him again,” I opened my door. “But you already know that.”
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Settling in my seat, I glanced over at Jungkook. He looked tired and I let him know it was fine to sleep. He nodded and slipped his eyes closed shortly after. Taking my new phone out of my pocket, I decided to make a quick phone call before we took off. Jungkook and I had picked up a flip phone from Walmart on our way to the airport. It was more secure than any smartphone. Dialing the number, I waited.
“Hello?” Hoseok picked up.
“I’m landing in Massachusetts,” I replied, knowing he was aware of the situation by now. It had been a day and a half. “Pick me up at our spot.”
“Jin will be there.”
“Copy.”
Hoseok sighed heavily, “Is the kid okay? Heard you shook him up.”
Glancing at Jungkook, I was shocked he was snoring. 
“He’s fine,” I replied. “He’s definitely in pain, and tries to keep his movement to a minimum, but hides it from me. Attempts to, I should say.  I took care of him as best I could but Agust should get his hands on his ASAP.”
Hoseok hummed and I knew he was nodding. He was a very animated, lively person and could not sit still for long. He got into a fist fight with a Russian who took offense to his hand movements. 
“See you when I see you.”
“Three o’clock,” I said before hanging up.
Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I finally buckled my seat. Shaking Jungkook awake, I told him to put his belt on. He grinned at me lazily before doing it. He fell asleep again quickly. 
Happy to have a window seat, I watched as we began to take off. It had been a while since I was on a plane. The last time was when I was running to California as quickly as I could. Kansas had been nice when I had first left The Saints, but it quickly became suffocating. The silence and mundane town life made my skin crawl. California had seemed like it would be better, more fun, but it had become just as mundane after a while. 
I had always gotten bored easily. It was why I enjoyed pickpocketing. As a kid, my little hands and unassuming looks had made it easy. I never planned on getting good at it. At the time it felt less damning in comparison to what the people in my life wanted me to do. 
There was a time when I was happy killing, pleasing my family had always felt good, but that faded when my teenage years approached. Running away to New York was a quick, impulsive decision I had made when I was afraid of my future. Staring at the clear, blue sky, I scoffed. 
I had run away from one hell into another. I went from that one into another. The Saints were my family, but I would be lying if I said I felt they were any different from what I had always done. Kansas had been my first attempt at normalcy, and San Diego had been me living in that world.
And I loved it, in my own way. It was nice to have a routine. It felt good to have friends, even if they were the most surface level friendships I could allow myself to have, and I owned my own things. I had earned what I had. 
Now I was flying back to a place I was not sure I belonged anymore. I felt two halves of myself fighting one another. One half wanted to run again, to disappear, and get as far away from this place as possible. Then there was the other side of me, the twisted, dark, nasty side of myself that was reveling in all of this. My excitement was hard for me to figure out, and I began to doubt myself.
Had I ever really wanted this life? Has it all been a dream? A fantasy of a perfectly serene, normal, and legal lifestyle I had never known? Finding a cloud, I rubbed my temples and sighed. 
I doubted I would ever have an answer to that question.
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Five years ago
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Standing around the table, all of us went over the plan again. They were doing construction on the roof, so that would be the quickest, and easiest, point of entrance. I would go first while Hoseok and Jin dressed as police officers to take out the security guards in the back. Taehyung would take care of the cameras before this. Yoongi would follow behind me along with Jimin. I would lead the team after we had taken over the museum.
Looking over at Jimin, he was already looking at me. Everyone knew that this would be my last mission, and he had taken it the worst. We hardly spoke and he actively ignored me. I was surprised he was acknowledging me at all. Breaking eye contact, I went back to explaining the pieces we would be taking.
“Don was very specific about these three pieces,” I said, pointing to the Rembrandt and two pieces of jewelry. “These are our high payouts. Get these first. After that we can make quick work of the rest.”
“Who did you say the others were going to?” Yoongi asked.
“The rest are split up between some vendors I know,” I replied. “Freddie Newman, Diane Pollack, and Dwayne Smith. The jewels are for Georgie Boy, Archie, and two others. Park’s handling that.”
“This is a big job,” Hoseok mumbled. “Will the six of us be able to get it done?”
I nodded easily. 
“Yes, we’ll have all the time in the world once those guards are taken care of. I’m planning on this being an hour- two at most.”
Looking back at Jimin, I was happy to see he was grinning at me. We would be fine. Deciding we had gone over everything, I walked away from the table. 
“We’ll leave at midnight.”
“Copy,” Jimin replied.
Smiling to myself, I left the room and went to the kitchen to find something to eat.
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Getting off the plane, I kept Jungkook close as we made our way to baggage claim. Being on the East Coast again was uncomfortable. I knew this airport like the back of my hand, knew every nook and cranny of these streets, but I still felt out of place. I was even more unsettled knowing there were people looking for me. 
Standing by the conveyor belt, we waited for my duffle bag to come out. Jungkook looked around, his scouting looking natural, and I kept my eyes on the bags. It came out a few minutes later, and I slung it over my shoulder. Jungkook wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him.
“They’re here,” He whispered, a soft smile on his face. Lips brushing the top of my head, he started walking and kept me close. “They don’t know me, so we’ll be fine.”
Forcing a smile on my face, I wrapped my arm around his waist. My heartbeat quickened, and I found myself enjoying the way his body pressed into mine. Allowing myself a small glance around us, I saw two familiar faces near the escalators. Dimitri and Anton. As we neared the escalators, I knew they would notice me unless I acted very differently than what they remembered. 
Deciding to commit to our charade, I lifted my head up towards Jungkook. Kissing his cheek, I was able to hide my face from the two men. Jungkook stepped onto the elevator first. Turning him to face me, I grabbed his face and pressed our lips together. He was soft, gentle, and tasted like the licorice he’d gotten on the plane. He wrapped his arms around my waist and melted into the kiss. Pulling away, head pressed against his, I looked at the steps. 
“We’re almost at the top,” I mumbled.
Jungkook nodded and slowly moved away from me. Angling his body towards the front, he kept an arm firmly around my waist as we got to the top. Sparing a single glance behind me, the two men were none the wiser. Smirking, I ran my hand up and down Jungkook’s back in silent praise. 
Walking further and further away from the others, Jungkook’s arm did not move. I stayed close to his side, happy to have someone to lean on. It made sense now. Jimin sent him because he was less known to the others. Ivan would know him, and the people closest to him, but someone like Anton would be blindsided by his presence. They were expecting one of my boys. Stepping into the sun, the two of us were quick to hail down a taxi and slip inside. 
“We’re running a bit late,” I announced, buckling in. “Can you take us to the Hood Milk Bottle?”
“No problem,” The cab driver replied.
It was barely a 10 minute drive, but airport traffic made it feel like forever. Jungkook and I did not talk. Our closeness from earlier was officially stopped, and I felt silly for missing his warmth. Looking at him out of the corner of my eye, I grew shy. Just moments ago, his arms were wrapped around me. Catching sight of the tiger lily on his elbow, I had to quickly look back out of the window.
God, he was fucking hot.
Pulling out my phone, I found a new message on it. 
Unknown: Eating a lobster roll outside
Rolling my eyes, I replied.
Y/N: Of course you are. Two minutes.
Unknown: Lunch on me
Flipping the phone closed, I shoved it back in my back pocket. Looking out of the window, I did feel nostalgic. It had been such a long time and yet things stayed the same. There were a few new shops where old ones used to be, but the places I remembered the most fondly were still around. The mixed feelings I had were beginning to weigh down on me. 
Pulling up, I smiled. Hood was such an iconic, fun place. Looking back at Jungkook, I was touched to see him paying the cabby. Saying goodbye, the two of us got out of the car. The duffle had been in my lap. Jungkook stared up at the giant milk bottle in awe.
“Jin said he'll buy us lunch.”
Jungkook smirked, “What do you recommend?”
Walking toward the snack stand, I shrugged my shoulders.
“I’m getting a lobster roll, but if you’re not into that, the soft serve is great.”
Walking around the side, I saw Jin sitting on one of the picnic benches eating. I was more surprised to see he was still enjoying his food than the purple hair. Jimin must have convinced him to do that. Whistling, I smirked at Jin and waved.
Jin was the oldest out of all of us, and spoke the least amount of English, but we were close. Standing, he offered me a hug which I happily accepted. Clearing my throat, I began speaking in Korean.
“You look nice,” I ruffled his hair. “This color looks really good on you.”
“Thanks,” He shoved my hand away. “Lobster roll? Thought you might have missed the New England taste.”
Nodded, I turned to Jungkook.
“What do you want?” I asked in English.
He shook his head at me, “Chocolate ice cream.”
When he spoke Korean, his voice was much deeper. Grinning at him, I looked back at Jin.
“One lobster roll and one chocolate soft serve.”
Going to order our food, Jin told us to sit and wait. Jungkook sat down next to me, his elbow on the table with his head resting on his fist. I was unsure of what to make of the look on his face. He seemed so… fond of me. No one had ever really looked at me like that before. I was used to anger, annoyance, or fear, but fondness was uncharted territory. The closest person I could think of had been Alexi, but even then he had always looked at me as a child. Jungkook did not.
“I didn’t know you spoke Korean,” He said, speaking the language.
“I know a lot of languages,” I replied. “I’m mostly fluent in English and Russian. My Korean is good, but I’m not fluent by any stretch of the imagination. I speak a decent amount of Spanish as well.”
“That’s so cool. Mine are Korean, Japanese, and English.”
Jin was back with our food. 
“Eat it in the car,” He said, “Everyone is waiting for us.”
“Is Park back in town?” Jungkook asked.
Jin shook his head, “Not yet. We haven’t heard from since yesterday.”
I knew we would talk more once we were out of the public eye. There was only so much we could say out here. Taking my roll, I followed Jin. Jungkook ate his ice cream happily, his eyes sparkling with joy. It was my turn to smile fondly. 
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Pulling into a small driveway, I was confused. I did not recognize the house. Painted a calming sky blue with black shutters, a well-groomed lawn, and a small flower garden, it was unassuming and plain. Looking over at Jungkook, he seemed happy to be here. 
“Where are we?” I asked.
Jungkook smiled at me, “Yoongi’s.”
Taken aback, I froze. That had been the last person I had thought of. The last time I had seen everyone, Yoongi and Hoseok were living in a shitty condo in South End. While I was confused, and even unsettled, by the changes I was also pleased. It felt good to see Yoongi living more civilly. I wondered what had changed.
Hopping out of the Jeep, I met up with Jin and Jungkook at the hood before following behind them. The house was pristine and the small cul de sac was quiet. Eyes bulging out of my head, I fought back the urge to laugh out loud at the sight of a bird feeder on the edge of the lawn. 
Standing on the small porch, the three of us huddled close together. Jungkook gently moved my body in front of his, successfully shielding my body from the street. Leaning back slightly, I brushed my back against his chest quickly before straightening my back. I was beginning to lean into my growing attraction, but knew better than to take it any further than small touches. The airport had been for survival- nothing more. 
Jin knocked, the rhythm the only familiar thing about this place, before the door swung open. On the other side, a woman peered out at us. Her hair was short, wildly frizzy with unkempt curls, and bright red. Her eyes were brown and skin alabaster. The green dress she wore looked nice on her full figure. She smiled brightly at Jin, saying hello with joy. Her voice had hints of an accent but it was too faint for me to pick up.
“It’s nice to see you Johanna,” Jin greeted, kissing the woman’s cheek before gesturing towards me. “Johanna, Mouse. Mouse, Johanna.”
The red head gave me a polite smile before offering her hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mouse.”
“Y/N,” I corrected, glaring at Jin. “Y/N is fine outside of business.”
“This is business though, isn’t it?” Johanna tilted her head at me, a mischievous glint in her eye. I decided right away that I liked her. “Come in. Hello Kookie.”
“Hey Jo,” The man replied.
Stepping inside, I looked around. The inside was just as perfect as the outside. Brightly colored walls with pops of color scattered around, mostly in the art hanging on the walls, with plants everywhere. It smelled like apple cinnamon and Pinesol. The hardwood floors were loud as we walked along them. The size of the living room was bigger than my entire apartment. Catching sight of a collage of photos, I looked over them the best I could as I walked.
All of them were nice photos, family photos, but one caught my eye. Yoongi was smiling, a rare sight, and his eyes were shining brightly. He was on the beach, arms wrapped around Johanna tenderly, while she had a large bouquet of flowers in her hand. She wore a white dress that hit her just at the ankle, a long, thin veil clipped onto the back of her head. The Saints were there along with a few people I did not recognize. Belatedly, I realized that I was looking at a wedding picture. A wedding I had missed. A wedding I had never been invited to. A wedding I had never even knew. Eyes glued to the photo, I cause a glimpse of Jungkook in a far-off corner, almost completely cut out, but he had been there. 
I knew my hurt feelings were unjustified. I had been the one who told them to leave me out of their affairs. I had said emergencies only. Still, I found myself growing increasingly alienated. I truly had no place here anymore. The only purpose I had ever served was monetary gain. The friendships I had built along the way were as fickle as the ones I had in New York. 
Arguing with myself, I struggled to stay present. As we walked deeper into the house, the need to run presented itself all over again. Everything I had known was gone. Everyone was different. Everything was different. Sparing a glance over at Jungkook, a seed of resentment began to grow in my chest. 
No one had ever referred to me as affectionately as they had Jungkook. No one had ever seemed endeared by my failures. Hell, none of these guys even acknowledged my feelings half the time. Staring at the back of Johanna’s head, I found that I didn't really like her that much anymore. She was loved. I was tolerated.
Still, I told myself that they had come for me. They had wanted to keep me safe. And yet, the insecurities that had always lived in my head reared their ugly head and reminded me that it was for their own good. I was useful. As long as I would be of use to them, then I would be protected. It would never be the same reasons they would fight for Johanna. They would fight for her because they wanted to keep her safe.
I could feel eyes on me, but I ignored them. I did not want comfort from Jungkook. I just wanted to get this over with so I could go back to San Diego. Even if they were surface level, those friendships were still more loving than whatever the fuck I had here. I hated Boston. I hated New York. I hated the entire East Coast. 
“Y/N?” Johanna called out, looking back at me with concern. “Are you alright?”
Nodding, I replied. 
“I’m fine. Just lost in my head.”
I hated the edge my voice had taken on. I hated just how much I had to control myself around these people. I wanted to scream, shout, cry; whatever. I just wanted to feel myself lose control for a little while. The woman did not believe me but offered me a smile regardless. 
“I asked if you would like a drink.”
“Water’s fine,” I replied.
Jin seemed suspicious of me but said nothing at all. He had always known I liked my space. Still, I could tell he was worried. I knew my thoughts were out of line, I knew that I was over thinking and attempting to overcompensate, but it was impossible to stop it from happening. The downward spiral was difficult to manage. 
Suddenly, an arm was wrapped around my shoulder. Jumping, I whipped my head around to see Jungkook smiling at me. It was a goofy smile, one that he pulled when he was feeling playful, before he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“What happens when you get water on a table?” He asked.
Taken aback, I opened and closed my mouth several times.
“What?”
“It becomes a pool table.”
Mouth agape, I blinked in disbelief before shoving him away. I let out a small laugh and shook my head at him. Where in the world had that come from?
Seokjin was laughing, hands clapping, and praising the younger man for the joke. Jin was a big fan of dad jokes and enjoyed making them up whenever he could. Typically, you would have to know enough Korean for them to make sense, but they never failed to get a few chuckles out of me. The ridiculousness of the jokes coupled with the corny delivery was always funny. Johanna placed a glass in front of me smiling fondly at Jungkook.
“He’s a mess,” She said, looking at me in faux exasperation. “I don’t know how you survived the trip here. He talks too much.”
Shaking my head, I took a large sip of the water.
“It’s better than the awkward silence Yoongi brings along.”
She laughed, knocking her head back.
“Touche,” She giggled. “He is a bit intense sometimes.”
“You’ve been in Boston for an hour and you’re already turning my wife against me.”
The voice had come from behind me. Spinning around dumbly, I was face-to-face with Yoongi. The scar on his face was just as prominent as it had always been, taking up his entire left cheek into forehead, but his eyes seemed lighter than I remembered. He was skinnier than the last time I saw him, too. He was wearing a simple black shirt with a pair of jeans. He seemed completely at ease. 
“Hey kid,” He greeted Jungkook with a grin. “Heard Mouse got you good.”
Jungkook flushed, ducking his head while rubbing his neck.
“Oh?” Jin chimed, his voice mocking. “The great Sacarii taken down by a little mouse?”
Rolling my eyes, I sighed heavily.
“He didn’t even try anything,” I admitted. “I was the aggressive one.”
“He was just an idiot,” Jin teased.
Yoongi tsked, “Park was the bigger idiot of the two. He’s going to give me an aneurysm.”
“You’re too hard on him,” Johanna gently scolded. “You know Jimin has a roundabout way of being right.”
 Jungkook laughed, “A broken clock’s right twice a day.”
A silence fell over our group. It felt unnatural to be standing in a nice kitchen talking over mundane topics with everyone. It was a long ways away from the roach infested alleyways and closed off apartment complexes. I lived with Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung when I was in Boston. Our small one bedroom was always cluttered, overcrowded, and was the main spot for our meetups. The conference room had been stuffed between two twin-sized mattresses with a large, round table in the middle of it all. I slept on the pull-out sofa in the front. 
“I guess we should talk,” Yoongi said, looking me up and down. 
“I guess so,” I replied.
Walking over to him, I realized that no one else was following. Looking back at the other three, they simply looked back. Sighing, I let it go. Being alone with Yoongi was not an unwelcome thing, but it had always made me feel like I was in trouble. Laughing at myself, I followed the man out of the kitchen and into the dining room. This time I was the one who was in trouble. 
Walking out of the dining room, we were now in a small reading room with a staircase. A green, stand-up piano was tucked away between tall bookshelves and more plants. Following Yoongi upstairs, I refrained from looking too closely at things. The house was much bigger than it looked. Walking past a few doors, we stopped before Yoongi opened one. 
Gesturing me to follow, I smiled at the sight of the old table. It was far too large, held six chairs, and was cheaply made. Someone had refurbished it and I wondered if it had been Johanna. She seemed to like everything to be nice and neat. It was an aesthetically pleasing layout, but this room was all Yoongi. The dark colored walls and furniture were in stark contrast to the otherwise white house. Taking a seat at the table, I pulled out the chair directly across from him.
There was a line up of photos scattered on the desk along with a few letters. I recognized two of the women but the others were unfamiliar to me. Looking around, I scowled when I saw a picture of Ivan. I would be lying if I said he was physically unattractive. Ivan had always had this air around him and coupled with his angular features and blue eyes it was no wonder why women chased him. I knew him, however, and the slope of his cheekbones and the perfectly groomed dirty-blonde hair did nothing but repulse me. He looked everything like his brother. He looked nothing like his brother.
Picking the photo up, I looked closely. It was candid. Someone had been hiding when they took it since the man seemed to be unaware of the camera. He was smoking a cigarette and behind him was a beach. Trying to figure out where he could be was hard, but it was nowhere near New York. It was too sunny, the waves too high, and I could see a surfer in the background. 
“Johanna took that,” Yoongi suddenly said. “We were in California. It’s where we got married.”
Mind racing, I kept looking at the picture. Ivan had been close to me. Very close, in fact. Trying to figure out how I could have been traced, I thought of Kimberly and winced. It would take no time at all to figure out if it really was me. He could just send some random into the salon after seeing a post. I looked different but I was still me. He could have scouted out the place for months without me being any wiser. Closing my eyes, I dropped the photo.
“He’s known where you are for a while,” He continued. “He had asked Jungkook to take care of you a few weeks ago, but the kid refused. He knew your face. Ivan’s been trying to figure out the best plan of getting to you without pissing us off.”
“So he thought forcing me back to New York was the best option?” I spat.
Yoongi nodded, “In his mind, you’d be under his claim again so we’d have no authority. Either he’s crazy or stupid.”
“Both,” I replied. “Always both.”
“I’ve noticed.”
Eyes searching the pictures for more signs, I grew angry. 
“Why are you only just now telling me?” I demanded, picking apart each detail of the photographs. “I should have known from the very beginning.”
“I thought so, too,” Yoongi defended. “It was Jimin telling us to cool it. He thought he could get it under control since he’s known Ivan for so long. It didn’t work out and Jimin was kicked out of the family.”
“What?” I shouted.
Ivan was losing his damn mind. Jimin was the closest thing to Alexi those boy had after Ivan took over. They loved him, I loved him, and to watch him get kicked out over me would have been a massive blow to Ivan’s credibility. Loyalty was gone from New York it seemed, and it would only be a matter of time before Ivan came to the same conclusion. They don’t make them like Jimin anymore. He was only trying to keep the peace. Thinking of my friend, I willed back my tears. He had wanted me to stay in California. He didn’t want me to come back.
“They’re not doing well,” Yoongi admitted. “Georgie Boy and I talked and he’s with us regardless. The Italians haven’t been appreciating Ivan’s ways either. Hoseok spoke with the Gambinos and they said they’ll light up the Russians if they get into their territory again.”
“Again?”
Yoongi smiled without humor.
“Ivan’s boys were selling in the Gambino’s turf. Didn’t end well for them. They aren’t going to tolerate that shit again, and the other families are on the lookout as well. Have to say, the boy has lost his fucking mind.”
Going over the information, I felt more confident than I had before. Ivan was hoping to get me back into his arms first. Then he’d kill me. Or keep me. It was impossible to know for sure. Either way, he had a rude awakening if he thought my boys were going to let it happen without consequences. Thinking back to my thoughts when I first came inside, I reminded myself that we were connected. I meant more to them than property. They weren’t Ivan. 
They weren’t Alexei either.
Shoving that thought down, I refocused on the photo of Ivan. He looked worse than I had last seen him. His age was beginning to show, and I sneered at the sight of the family tattoo. I had been claimed by many groups in my life. The tiger for my family, the slope-edged star on my collar bone for Alexei, the clerk on my ribs for my skill with a blade, and St. Anthony for The Saints. Ivan’s name had been cut into my skin by the man himself after I killed a rival without permission. The scars were faded now, but I never liked to show my stomach anymore. You could still see the carving and I would always know they were there. 
 Eyes zeroing in on Ivan’s calf, I saw red as I caught sight of the dagger entwined by a snake. It was in the same spot as mine. They all represented something. 
The star was commonplace for all Russians while my clerk was far more specialized. I got it after I helped Alexei take care of a snitch. I hated thinking about that night, but it earned me my stripes. I got my dagger a few months later. The dagger was rare, only given out to a leader of a “suit” of thieves. Alexi had promoted me, and I controlled my own section of New York alongside him. Ivan did not deserve that tattoo even if he was the boss.
“Can I ask you something?” Yoongi said.
I nodded.
“Why would he want you back so badly? He hates you.”
I smiled ruefully, looking up from the picture. 
“I’m Alexei’s girl and he finds great pleasure in keeping me around just to spite him. Even if he’s dead, it’ll never be enough. Breaking me down was always the goal.”
“Were you and Alexei…”
Yoongi did not need to finish the sentence. It was a fair question and one that everyone asked at some point. The Saints never liked picking into my past too much. They knew it had been rough, they knew what Ivan and I’s relationship was like, so they put it to rest. Yoongi had seen my stomach once, said he was going to kill him one day, and never brought it up again. Latching onto the memory, I further reinforced that they cared for me. This was not a dangerous place. These are my friends.
“No, Alexei would never. I was only 13 when we met. He was 19. We were like siblings more than anything. More than he and Ivan ever were.”
“Ivan was jealous?” I nodded. “Typical.”
“He’s the one who killed him, you know,” I leaned back in the chair. “I was there that night. That’s why Ivan hates me. I know too much.”
Yoongi shook his head in disbelief. It was a completely different world than he was used to. The Irish took care of their own. While it may have involved violence and punishments being handed out from time to time, there had always been unwavering loyalty to one another. For Hoseok it was the same. Snitches were snitches but you always had people you knew were on your corner. When Ivan saw an in he took it, even if it meant killing his older brother, and everyone suffered for it. I had not said anything out of the code of ethics we built, but that never stopped word from spreading. Everyone knew Ivan killed Alexei but no one could prove it.
Yoongi sucked his teeth, “They know you came home. Jimin let us know about that. He and Kai have been all over this shit.”
I hummed, “They had a couple guys at the airport. Jungkook and I got past them easily, though.”
Yoongi looked at me strangely now. It was in between concern and pride, but I figured it was the closest thing to friendly I would get from him. It was not his fault his face looked the way it did. Wanting to lighten the mood, I decided to ask him about his wife.
“So, who’s Johanna?”
Yoongi actually cracked a smile.
“She’s a nuclear engineer. Works at BU and moved to America seven years ago.”
“How’d that even happen?”
Yoongi shrugged, “I don’t even know. We met at a restaurant Georgie took me to. She was there with some friends. We bumped into one another and she gave me her number. I didn’t call but we ran into each other again at a bar. Stuck like glue ever since.”
Gently smiling I replied, “Sounds nice. I’m glad you found someone.”
Yoongi looked down bashfully. He was like an entirely new person now. Yoongi had never been one to show emotions outside of anger and annoyance. Even with us he had been a hardass. It was strange but nice at the same time. I liked it more than the robot I was used to.
“She’s a good person,” He whispered, suddenly serious. “Sometimes I wonder if I should have left her alone. She deserves better than a life of crime and being entangled in my bullshit.”
I understood where he was coming from.
“You could always leave. Runaway to Iceland and never look back.”
Yoongi grinned, “I thought about it but I don’t have any skills outside of this. What would I do? Unlike you, some of us have never thought past our horizons. Besides, I have other people to think about.”
I also understood that as well. I had been afraid of change for a long time, and I had known I wanted it for a while. I was unsure how long they had known one another, or had been together, but Yoongi had always said he’d die in Boston. I doubted he thought that way now. 
“It’s okay to be selfish,” I mumbled. “Things haven’t been easy and there were times when I missed the craziness, but I can say it’s an experience everyone should have. I love both of my lives, but I’d be lying if I said I’d choose this over California.”
Yoongi nodded in thought. We would drop this conversation and likely never pick it back up again, so I knew I should say my peace now. Whatever he decided to do would ultimately be on his shoulders, but I thought it would be okay to push him to follow his heart’s desires. I was a dreamer and I hoped the others would find a dream to hold onto as well.
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Walking downstairs, I was tired. The traveling had finally caught up to me and I wanted to get some rest while I could. Walking into the kitchen, the three of them were still talking. Johanna had started to cook something. It smelled nice but my stomach churned at the thought of food. Making my presence known, I yawned loudly and stretched my arms above my head.
“Sleepy?” Jungkook asked, completely at ease. 
He looked right at home here. Briefly I wondered if he stayed here often enough for that to be the case. Yoongi hated other people in his space, but he had changed since I last saw him. Jungkook, however, did not seem like someone who would like living with other people. He was mostly quiet, sweet, but standoffish at times. Jin grinned at me.
“Sorry to say I’m full,” The older man took a sip from a glass. I could not tell what it was and did not care to know. I rubbed my eyes dramatically and yawned again. “Jimin and I are rooming together. I doubt you want to take the sofa. Let’s just say I’ve been taking advantage of his absence.”
“I’ll take what I can get at this point,” I replied with another yawn. Shaking my head, I groaned. “God, I hate it when that happens.”
“Jungkook can keep you,” Johanna offered. “I’d let you stay here but my niece is spending the weekend. I don’t want to put her in a bad position.”
I knew what she meant. I would not want to put a child in the middle of this bullshit either. Looking over at Jungkook, I raised my eyebrow in silent questioning. He nodded back at me with a grin. I smiled back at him.
“We should go while we have daylight,” Jungkook said, a pair of keys in his hands.
I had no idea where they had come from.
“I can wait,” I protested. “You should eat first.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes.
“I’ll be fine. You haven’t slept since yesterday.”
“Y/N!” Jin scolded.
I non committedly waved him off. Scrunching my face up at Jin, I mumbled something close to ‘leave me alone,’ but I was doubtful it came out properly. Fighting to keep my eyes open, I leaned into Jungkook’s side as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. Guiding me away from the kitchen, I knew I heard Jin make a comment about how close we were.
“You’re just jealous she likes me more than you,” Jungkook snapped back.
“Does not,” Jin replied, childishly whining.
Johanna laughed and I could hear Yoongi coming down the stairs. Jungkook lead me back into the reading room and turned left. Going down two steps we were in front of a door.
“Be safe!” Johanna called out.
“Always, noona,” Jungkook replied.
Leading me to the room, I realized we were in a garage. I was again surprised. There were two cars, both of them very nice and sleek, surrounded by expensive tools and equipment. Back in the day, I would have swiped everything in this room and stole one of the cars. Now, I was being led toward the black Marcedes on the farthest side of the room. 
“This one’s mine,” Jungkook said, attempting to fill the space.
“First one we haven’t stolen,” I joked.
Sliding into the passenger seat, I melted into the seat before Jungkook was in the vehicle. Opening the glovebox, I moved my legs out of the way as the man dug around the compartment. Finally he pulled a smartphone out and quickly turned it on. A few minutes later, the garage door was opening and we were pulling out of the large driveway. We passed Jin’s Jeep on the way out and Jungkook could not help but make a snide comment about the ugly car. I felt comfortable enough to try and fall asleep.
“You know,” Jungkook announced, making my eyes snap open. “You’re the coolest person I’ve ever worked with.”
I chuckled, my drowsiness making it difficult to focus. 
“Thanks. You’re not that bad.”
“I’ve been useless for the entire trip,” Jungkook argued. “You stole the cars, got me clothes, made sure we were able to get flights without getting into some shit for it, and you always tried to make me feel more comfortable.”
Snorting, I looked over at the man.
“I shot you.”
Jungkook burst out laughing.
“I broke into your house.”
“Eye for an eye,” I offered, laughing.
Jungkook spared me a look in order to flash one of his blinding smiles. I noticed now that his front teeth were slightly bigger than they should be. 
“Really,” Jungkook was serious again. “I feel bad for being dead weight. I’ll make it up to you, though. I’m not really known for stealing cars or running off into the night, but I know how to kill someone.”
Looking at me again, Jungkook’s boyish smile and light eyes were on. In their place were hard lines, a slightly down-turned pout, and a coldness that surrounded him I was unaccustomed to. While earnest, his expression felt wrong. Jungkook was sunshine and this felt like an eclipse.
“No one is going to touch you. I’ll cut their fucking hands off finger-by-finger if need be to get my point across.”
“Why would you do that?” I asked, confused.
We did not know one another. Hell, I shot this fucking guy. And yet here he was devoting his life to keeping me safe. It was crazy. Then again, this life was like that. Putting myself in Jungkook’s shoes, I thought about it the other way around. Would I kill for him?
“Because you’re my friend,” He answered without hesitation. “You’re my friend and I would like to get to know you better.”
Yes, I thought, I would kill for this kid.
Humming, I decided against saying anything else. I was far too tired for this conversation. Letting my body win, I closed my eyes and leaned against the car window. I fell asleep quickly, but I found no peace. Ivan’s face flashed through my mind, his eyes alight with anger, and my blood was all over his hands. My screams echoed in the background. He placed his knife against my skin again and drew a “V” right next to the “I.”
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Eleven years ago
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Standing beside Hoseok, I stared up at the apartment complex wearily. It was small, bricked, and disgusting. I could smell trash and smoke everywhere and people were yelling. I did not like it here. Not at all.
Looking over at the older boy, I made sure to show him my discontent. I could admit that South End was nicer than my old place in Brooklyn, but only for the quieter atmosphere. Everything else was just as nasty. Hoseok shoved me forward and scolded me for acting like a “freak.”
“People are going to know you’re new,” Hoseok complained. “Then  I’m going to have to break their fucking head open for stepping out of line. Then Yoongi is going to dislike you. So, just fucking walk and keep your head down.”
Anger flaring, I stopped. Hoseok bumped into my back. Groaning loudly, he went to yell at me again. Scowling, I elbowed him in the stomach harshly. When he groaned and grabbed his stomach, I turned around and punched him in the face. While he barely moved, eating the hit easily, it seemed to get the message across.
“Don’t talk to me like that, bitch,” I seethed. “You’re not my dad.”
Waiting for Hoseok to hit me back, I stood there with my fists balled up. He looked at me intensely, his hands still clutching his stomach. His eyes went from my face to the small patch of exposed skin on my stomach. Knowing exactly what he was looking at, I pulled down the too-short shirt and yelled at him again to hit me.
Instead of violence, Hoseok simply took up straight. Breathing through his nostrils, he seemed to be calming himself down. I could see the start of a blackeye forming where I had hit him. My regret began eating away at me instantly, but I refused to back down. He deserved that hit. He needed to know I was not going to be his little plaything. 
Hoseok just continued to walk, telling me to follow, and I could tell he was trying to be nicer this time around. Confused and more uneasy than before, I kept my hands ready for a fight. I was not sure when this nice-guy act would stop.
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Being shaken awake, I realized we were at Jungkook’s. Glancing at the time, I was shocked we had driven almost two hours. We were parked in a small lot with a large brick building to the right. Jungkook turned the car off and got out. Quickly following him, I wondered where we were.
It was a nice place. They looked like townhomes and I could smell someone barbecuing. Jungkook looked back at me, a few paces ahead, and continued to walk around to the front. Every house had large bushes in the front yards. Hydrangeas grew vibrantly along the walkway with spaces to make way for the entryway to homes. Jungkook turned and I followed.
The front was identical to the others. The only difference I could see was Jungkook’s ‘no shoes’ sign right out front. Rubbing my eyes, I continued to wake up and get the crust off of my skin.
“It’s small,” Jungkook suddenly said, “But it’s nice.”
“Where are we?” I asked, stepping into the house and kicking off my shoes.
“Chatham,” He replied, shrugging his jacket off. “It’s out of the way but I like the beach.”
The first thing I noticed was the large, beige sectional in the living room. On the wall was a large television above a faux fireplace. The entire house smelled like wood polish and oranges. I liked the carpeted floors and was pleasantly surprised by how clean everything was. There were no photos or personalized art hanging on the walls, but I guessed Jungkook never really liked those sorts of things. He was personable but in the moment. Jimin was a photo monster.
Thinking of my friend, I hoped he was alright. It was unlike him to go full radio silent. At the very least he would have called and checked in. Perhaps he had and no one bothered to tell me. Catching a glimpse of myself in the large, gold framed mirror hanging above the dining table, I flinched. 
I looked just as bad as I had begun to feel. I was tired, my eyes puffy, and I was embarrassed by the drool dried at the corner of my lip. My shoulder was stiff and uncomfortable from sleeping in the car and my clothes looked a mess. Jungkook had my duffle bag on his shoulder and I belatedly realized I have never even thought to grab it. I had not even brought it inside.
“Thank you,” I said.
Jungkook smiled at me. 
“It’s no problem. The room’s not being used anyway.”
“No,” I shook my head and walked up to him. Carefully taking the bag, I slug it over my shoulder with a knowing look. “Thanks for grabbing my shit. And for the room. I appreciate it.”
Jungkook scratched the back of his neck and turned red. He was not good with compliments no matter how much he seemed to enjoy them.
“Friends, right?”
I nodded, “Yeah.”
Walking past him, I distracted myself from my racing heart by figuring out where his washing machine was.
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After taking a shower, I tip-toed my way back to the room Jungkook had given me. I had been on edge since I got here. He was kind, caring, and attentive. I had never really seen someone show all three at the same time, and never toward me. My friends and I were subtle types, so to have someone so open and honest with their feelings was a hard pill to swallow. In California it was safe, in California it was expected, in California it was sacred; in Boston it was nerve wracking.
I could never be sure of how genuine Jungkook really was. When I was in his presence, it was easy to say that he was just that simple. Once I got alone it took all of me not to sneak out of a window and run. Hoseok had always said I needed to work on trusting people, so I would try.
I knew my behavior was only heightened by my attraction to him. Attractive people were the worst. Liking Jungkook would not do any favors for either one of us. I would get swallowed up by the life I so desperately wanted to leave, and Jungkook would be stuck in an awkward situation with the rest of the crew if it came to the light. No one would win and the outcome would be the same if I said anything or not. I was leaving Boston as soon as the situation was handled.
Luck was not on my side. As I turned the corner to reach the door of my bedroom, Jungkook was coming up the stairs. Carrying two cups, he flashed me a small smile and walked the rest of the way up. I froze in my spot. Caught red handed, I tried to play off my unsuccessful sneaking and took the cup with a smile. Jungkook did not seem to buy it but looked more amused than anything.
“What’s this?” I asked, smelling it.
“Cocoa,” He replied. “It’s not winter but still chilly.”
I nodded and took a generous sip. It was warm and silky. Humming in satisfaction, I took another sip and licked my top lip. Cocoa was one of my favorite things when I was a child. It was one of the few fond memories I had. Jungkook looked happy.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asked. “To get your mind off things?”
It was funny that he thought Ivan was what had been plaguing my mind. I may not be a very violent person now, but there was a time I was ruthless. The Russians did not scare me as much as they once had either. My initial response had been mostly shock, anger, and most of all, frustration. I had not been scared in a very long time. I doubted I ever would be.
“Sure,” I said, keeping my thoughts out of the conversation. What Jungkook did not know will not hurt him. He was only trying to help. “I’m not picky.”
Going down the stairs, I felt the same nervous butterflies growing in my stomach again. We were going to be closer than I would like to be. I was afraid of what that might do to the both of us. I did not know where Jungkook’s head was, but I was not foolish enough to believe that I was immune to any advances. The ball would stay in his court. I had enough self control to let that be a rule.
Sitting on the couch, I curled up on the end and waited. Netflix was already pulled up and waiting. Jungkook sat two cushions away. Picking up the remote from the coffee table, he began scrolling as we talked about possible movies to watch. We ended up on a random Jason Statham film. I watched mindlessly since every one of his movies were practically the same.
“Are you hungry?” Jungkook asked me fifteen minutes in, clearly bored and disinterested in the action sequence. I could not blame him. There was no way anyone could use a gun like that in real life, and I was becoming annoyed by the plot armor. “I have ramen.”
I nodded, “That’s fine.”
Moving to stand up, Jungkook waved me off and went to the kitchen himself. Not arguing, I got more comfortable and zoned out once more. It was hard not to feel the pull towards him. All I kept thinking about was the way his lips felt at the airport. Refocusing on the movie, I rolled my eyes at the bomb scene. There was no way in hell you were getting up and walking away from something that big.
Of course, Jason Statham had done just that. 
Jungkook came back a few minutes later, two large cups of ramen in hand, and sat down at the sofa. We ate in silence, neither one of us interrupting the bad movie again. When I went up to bed I could only think about how his hands would feel on me.
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Taglist: @ippid @jkslaugh97 @destructive-memories @ash07128 @heartjiminie @adventures-in-bookland @canyon-lwt​ 
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back2thebasics · 4 months ago
Text
Bodyguard Suguru Geto X Fem Reader
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Synopsis: Your parents hired Suguru for your protection. You come from a wealthy family and they won't let you go into the big scary world without someone always lurking in the shadows to watch over you. That is what he is to you, a shadow. What happens when one night changes your relationship forever? 
Content: Female Reader, MDNI, Sexual content, Curses, Combat, Gore(From fighting curses), Geto with an attitude
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You always feel him lurking 8 steps behind you. Never close enough to see him, but never far enough that you don't feel his presence. Your friends had nicknamed him the black dog since his long shaggy black locks made him look like one, and he always followed you around. Your interactions with him were almost nonexistent and when you spoke with him, he was cold and calculated. It pissed you off. You wanted to get to know him. He was only interested in ensuring you don't get eaten alive while getting groceries. 
You needed to get something from the beauty supply store on the way from work, so you diverged from your usual path home. You knew Suguru Geto would follow no matter what, so you didn't bother letting him know your plan. He has been your bodyguard since the day you turned 18 and your parents were too scared to let you live your life as an adult without security. You understand why it's necessary. Cursed spirits were everywhere and you had no formal training to defend yourself. 
You turn back and see him walking casually behind you a few feet back, pretending to be a regular pedestrian minding his business. What people didn't know was that he was hyper-aware of all of them and he was probably watching them like a hawk ready for an attack at any moment. He has protected you from danger as promised and in the 5 years he has been around, no one has laid a finger on you or even breathed in your direction. It felt isolating sometimes, but you were alive, so you couldn't complain too much. You finally see the shop in the distance and you hope they have the hair developer you need to dye your hair. Last time you got the wrong product and the results were horrible, so this time you want to make sure you do it right. You could go see a professional, but with your personal Shadowman following you around, it made things awkward at the salon. 
The shop is busy, which forces Geto to get closer to you so he can keep an eye on you. He pretends to browse the aisles while you make your way to the hair dye section. He follows you while you look at the products. He pretends to scan the boxes of hair dye as if contemplating a colour. His eyes occasionally glance over to you and when you catch him looking, he gives you a look that says hurry up.
“I think you would look gorgeous with pink hair.” You tell him pretending to be a stranger giving advice. He doesn't laugh.
He looks at you seriously and stoically, as always. He gives you an up and down and then continues to walk down the aisle, no doubt to check the neighbouring aisles for threats to your safety. You return your attention to the shelf full of products, a little disappointed by his dismissal. He didn't even deem you worthy of a reply. You finally find the right product you were looking for and then make your way towards the register where a nice-looking young man helps you check out.
You feel Geto looming next to you, but you don't even bother looking at him while he places some random items down onto the belt and buys them to seem less suspicious. You thank the cashier and then walk out, not waiting for your black shadow. He will catch up with those long legs of his. You know that you've been acting petty lately. It started with you trying to ditch him on purpose, then you ignore his calls sometimes just to get a reaction. He only got mad a few times, and you liked the rush it gave you, so you chased after it more. The desire to do it again rose in you and made you walk a little faster. You try to trick him a little and take a different way home. Hoping he will maybe confront you, talk to you or just do something more than intense stares and silence. 
You've been walking for about 10 minutes, surprised he hasn't caught up to you yet. You hear a loud crashing noise coming from a back alley. Passing the alleyway quickly and hoping it's just an animal digging through the trash, you begin regretting your choices. Your heart races for no reason and you get cold sweats. Why did you not want the protection of the big, strong bodyguard again? The answer seems long gone and when you turn around to check behind you, the lack of his presence makes you feel empty.
You turn back to keep walking and stop dead in your tracks when you see a nasty-looking creature standing in front of you, blocking your way. It looks like a snake with its long body decorated with scales. It stares you down with its beady yellow eyes and reveals large fangs as its enormous jaw unhinges. Long spikes adorn its back, giving it an almost dragon-like appearance. It slithers forward and you notice just how big this thing is. It could eat you whole if it got you between its jaws. You freeze in fear, not being able to move even as it gets closer, hissing at you and flexing its spikes preparing for an attack.
Just as it goes for the lunge, a flash of a figure swoops in grabs you and carries you back to the safety of a side alleyway. You finally get your bearings and realize the man leaning over you scanning you for injuries is Suguru Geto.
“Are you hurt?” He sounds different. He was affected for once. Gone is the stoic statue of a man. Instead, he looks genuinely concerned. His brows pinching together, creating deep lines. 
Several minutes pass before you can stop shaking and catch your breath. You hyperventilate and it makes you weak on your feet. Stumbling a little, he braces you up against his much larger body with muscular arms around your torso. 
“You need to catch your breath and tell me if you're hurt,” Suguru says in a firm yet soothing voice. He doesn't wait for your reply before he starts patting you down gently all over and feeling for anything wrong.
“I'm fine.” You manage your breathing finally under control.
“We’ll talk about how stupid that was later. But for now, I need you to promise me you will stay here until I come back for you. Please Y/N, you need to promise me you won't run off again.” He stares down into your eyes intensely and you see the genuine concern written all over his face. He’s worried. 
“I promise.” You nod at the same time. He releases you from his supportive embrace. You sink a little at the lack of support, your knees still shaking from the adrenaline. He places a hand on the small of your back and leads you further down into the alleyway to a fire escape, where he helps you sit on the lower staircase.
“I'll be back. Stay here.” He sets off running towards the cursed spirits' location. You listen to his request and stay put. He disappears from view and you hear scuffling and combat begin as Geto no doubt unleashes his technique. The fight seems to last forever and you grimace as you hear crunching and things shattering during the battle. Finally, you see a tall figure approaching, Shaggy black hair tousled from combat, a bit of dust smeared on his olive skin but thankfully no blood. None of his, at least because the specks that speckled his skin looked green. 
You burst into tears. You hear his footsteps quicken and he reaches you in no time. 
“Y/N? What's wrong?!” He crouches in front of you, his voice sounding gravely from fighting.
“I'm sorry.” You blubber between sobs. The heightened emotions and fear make you feel sensitive, and you can't help it when you reach out and hug him suddenly. He returns the hug and lets you cling to him with your arms around his neck. He holds you as you shake in his arms and cry it out.
“It's okay. Let me take you home.” He suddenly stands up, lifting you at the same time. You're about to ask to be put down, but the thought of being carried home sounds nice, so you let him. You wrap your legs around him like a koala and he supports you by gripping your thighs to hold you up. Resting your head on his shoulder with your arms around his neck as he makes the quick trip to your apartment building where he also lives. He sets you down at the front door and he unlocks the door using his set of keys. You stay in silence, not wanting to talk about your dumb actions just yet. 
He walks in and turns on the lights, then takes off his shoes. His apartment is in the basement of yours and his usual routine is to go straight downstairs without a word. Tonight he lingers at the door as you take off your coat and shoes. He watches you with worry in his features as he leans against the kitchen island. You wait for him to get mad at you.
“So, are you going to scold me now?” You break the silence, looking at him from the bench near the door.
“Is that what you want? For me to scold you?” The tone Geto uses sounds almost like a challenge.
“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run off like that. It was stupid.” You mumble, embarrassed.
“Yes, it was stupid and I am still a little pissed still but you need to rest. You must be tired.” Suguru approaches and places a hand on your head affectionately. You look up at him and the concern in his gaze makes your heart flutter. He always seems so cold and detached, but at this moment, you see through all that. 
He removes his hand and turns to walk towards his apartment door.
“Wait, Suguru.” You rush out and he turns around. 
You stand up from the bench and step forward. You gather your courage and decide it's time to confront your feelings head-on. If he rejects you, then you can move on and things will go back to normal. 
“Aren't you sick of following me around all the time? Do you even like me?” You ask the questions that are swirling in your head. 
Suguru looks at you, shocked. He seems to think about it for a moment and then sighs before he responds. You expect a rejection.
“Of course I like you. What kind of question is that? When I took on this job, I must admit I was apprehensive at first. Then I met you and that went away. Protecting you is the most important thing to me. You are the most important thing to me.” Suguru steps forward until he's almost pressed against you.
The proximity leaves you breathless. But you still have things you need to know.
“Why are you always so distant? Every time I try to get to know you, you push me away.” You search his eyes for answers. 
“I had to. If I got too close to you, I knew I wouldn't be able to stop myself from wanting more. I knew you wouldn't feel that way, so I kept a safe distance.” He lifts a hand and runs it through his long black hair. 
“Why would you assume I wouldn't like you?” You ask, confusion lacing your breathy voice as you stare up at him. He looks vulnerable for the first time in the 5 years you've known him.
“Because you are you and I'm me. I feel like I don't deserve you. Not in the way I want, so I settle for making sure you stay safe. At least I get that small pleasure.” He rasped, his voice husky, sending shivers down your spine.
“That's bullshit. You have no idea the amount of times I craved just hearing your voice. The amount of times I tried pissing you off just so you can talk to me.” You feel the frustration of those 5 years in your words. You wanted him to like you so badly it had gotten under your skin so far deep down that you had convinced yourself he hated you to get over it.
You had no idea that he had these feelings all along and you feel stupid for not saying anything earlier. You take matters into your own hands for once and get on your tip toes so you can wrap your arms around his neck. He looks surprised for a second before he wraps his arms around your waist and meets you halfway. Your lips meet in the middle and the force of the kiss almost knocks you off your feet. He kisses you like he has been waiting longer than 5 years. Like he has been waiting his entire life for this chance. You respond, your lips fighting with his in a passionate exchange of tongue and lip biting. He pulls back first, still not completely sure what just happened. He breathes in heavy pants, his face flushed completely.
“Y/N, are you sure about this? I don't -.”
You cut him off with another reassuring kiss. Something about showing him instead of showing him felt right. Your hands trailed lightly into his long silky strands near his nape and you hear his guttural groan. He breaks the kiss once more and disappointment washes over you briefly before he lowers himself to kiss your neck. You can't hold back the soft moan that escapes your lips. His lips suck and kiss a trail, starting from your jaw to your collarbone. He surprises you when he suddenly picks you up effortlessly. He doesn't travel far with you before he gently places you down on the edge of the kitchen island. The way he looks at you like you're a dream, like you'll disappear. It makes your stomach fill with butterflies.
“We can take it slow. We don't have to rush.” His hand cups your face gently and he looks so gentle compared to his curse-killing alter ego. 
“I have waited 1826 days for this. I think that's slow enough.” You can't help but laugh at your attempt at being funny.
Geto’s lips quirk up slightly and then a full smile that nearly knocks the breath out of you. You have never seen him genuinely smile at you like this before. He initiates the kiss this time, and it makes you wish this would have happened sooner between the two of you. It may have made his constant presence much more welcome. You grip lightly onto his long black hair once more and you enjoy hearing his reaction. He liked having his hair pulled. It sent more heat rushing down to your core where you were already starting to soak through your panties with excitement. The tension between you had to give eventually, but who knew this would be the way you decided to resolve your issues. 
His hands began to roam your body. Exploring your back, your waist, your hips. Then he gripped your ass, squeezing it firmly while he kissed you like a starving man. He slid you closer, and that's when you felt the press of his long hard length right between your thighs. Your hand traces down gently from his neck slithering down to feel the sizeable growth. He groaned into the kiss seemingly still holding back slightly. You decided to take matters into your own hands and show him just how badly you had wanted this. He was thankfully wearing black sweatpants, so it was easy for you to pull down the waistband slightly. His attention snapped down between the two of you and his breath hitched.
“Y/N shit I-” 
“What are you so afraid of?” You teased.
Before you knew it, you were being flipped over, your top half bent over the island pressed against the granite surface. Geto pushed his hips into your backside. You felt his shaft rubbing against your pussy through the thin material of your leggings. 
“You have no idea the things I've thought about doing to you. I thought I just needed to get laid, but no matter what I did, I couldn't stop thinking about you. Fuck, I thought I was going to have to quit before I did something stupid.” He whispers into your ear, one hand coming up to possessively grip your neck to hold it up to him. 
“I want you Geto please.” The request comes out of you in a mixture of a whisper and a whimper. He chuckles darkly, and it sends shivers down your spine.
“I dreamed of you saying those words to me once. Now I get to fuck you in real life, darling.” His deep, soft voice caresses your skin. He peels back the tight leggings and your thong in one swift motion. You release a breath as you feel the cold air suddenly hit your heated, throbbing cunt. Geto made a sound of approval from behind you, admiring your exposed pussy, which probably glistened from how wet you were. Suddenly, goosebumps spread on the back of your thighs as you felt his hot breath near your pussy. 
“I've always wanted to taste you beautiful. Can I?” Geto nearly purred, the gentle rumble of his voice sending flutters to your stomach and a fresh wave of heat to your core. 
“Please.” Your reply was breathy. He was making you beg for it and in some way, you felt it was your punishment for making his job harder recently. He had probably also felt like you hated him or you were pushing him away when you had been looking for a reaction like a little brat. You felt a small smile form on your lips.
“I want you to fuck me, Geto.” You decided to play into it a little more. Maybe you liked being a little daring around him. Test his limits. The next time you felt his shaft on your lips, there was no fabric between you. The contact of his warm hard cock rubbing your wet lips and occasionally brushing over your clit made you arch your back. He reached down both of his big hands trailing down your legs to stop at your knees, where he suddenly grabbed and lifted. He hoisted up your bottom half your arms still braced on the counter holding you up. He held you strong, and you felt like he could truly toss you around if he wanted to and your mind wandered to all the possible positions you could try. Geto interrupted your train of thought when you felt his wet tip lining up to your slick entrance. He found it almost instinctively and you left out a moan when he slowly pushed in. Giving you time to adjust, he slowly pulled out and then back in. You had not had anyone this size before, and the slight pinch didn't take long to dissipate into a feeling of fullness and then pleasure. Once your soft moans got louder and your hips arched even more, he took it as a cue to quicken his pace. His rhythm was a strong and quick force that made you clutch to the edge of the countertop in pleasure. He let out soft growls and groans while fucking you, which amped your pleasure even more. 
“Fuck baby, your pussy is amazing.” Geto praised his head, swinging back while he fucked you from the back, still gripping your knees and thighs in his large rough hands. He sped up even more, pounding into you with the ferocity of a man that has been holding himself back for years. You meet each thrust of his hips with a needy moan. He pulls out for a slit second and then you're being flipped over again with ease. He places both of your legs onto his strong shoulders and you prop yourself up on your elbows. Geto looks down at you with a flustered expression and pushes back into you. His hands push up your top and you help him in undressing yourself. Once you take off your bra, you notice he has also taken off his shirt. As he slowly fucks you in long, deep strokes, you appreciate his body. His defined muscles seem to ripple and shine with a sheen layer of sweat. His tousled black hair clings to his broad shoulders as he slowly starts to pick up his pace again. With every push in, he hits your G spot and it makes your moans turn into cries of pleasure. He grips your ankles, which rest near his collarbone and spreads your legs wider. Then you feel one of his thumbs press circles into your pulsing clit. The buildup comes quickly, like a rush up a flight of stairs and you come hard. You close your eyes shut and cry out your pleasure, your back arching against the cold surface of the counter. He pounds into you as your orgasm wades out. Geto places both of your legs on the same shoulder and leans in more. His other hand grips your throat, not squeezing, just holding. The intense heat in his gaze tells you that he's close to climax. 
“Fuck yes, Geto. Fuck me.” You pant out, feeling a second orgasm already building. As if reading your mind, his circles on your clit speed up to match his thrusts, sending you speeding towards a second orgasm. Just as you'd predicted, Geto was not far away and his loud guttural groan came right as you peaked. You came on his cock again, feeling your walls tighten around him just as he pulled out and you spread your legs wide so he could release his hot seed on your lower stomach. His circles on your clit never stopped as you rode out the second orgasm. He reached over to the far side of the island counter with his long arms and grabbed a roll of paper towel, using it to clean up his mess. You watched him clean you up with half-lidded eyes, his touch gentle and caring. For a man who killed monsters for a living, he sure was sweet when he wanted to be. The thought made you smile, and he caught you giving you a breathtaking smile in return. You couldn't help but pull him close and he met you halfway closing the distance. He picked you up fully in his arms, walking with you in the direction of your bedroom, not even breaking the kiss to look where he was walking. You let out a small giggle knowing he knew exactly where your bedroom was and that it wouldn't be long before round 2 started in your bed.
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